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oceandolores · 22 days ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 20

dbf!joel miller x female reader

"You poor thing, sweet, mourning lamb. There's nothing you can do."

summary: negan show you his true colors

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, pedophilia, cannibalism, human trafficking, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 20

masterlist!

previous | chapter 19

next | chapter 21

The chill seeped into your bones, spreading slowly through your veins until you felt almost numb, the dampness clinging to you like despair itself.

Every heartbeat was a labor, each breath a painful reminder of the ache that pulsed through you, but worse than the physical pain was the yawning emptiness in your chest—the thought that you might never see Joel again.

It was a raw, hollow ache, a sharp pang of grief you couldn’t push away. You knew that you were on the edge, slipping closer to oblivion, but there was one last thing you needed to do, one final message that could reach him if somehow, in a miracle, it found its way.

Weakly, you took a scrap of paper you’d found buried under debris, your shaking hand struggling to hold onto the pen as you pressed it to the paper.

With every ounce of strength left in you, you began to write, letting your soul spill out in those last, broken words. Each line held the weight of the love you’d carried, a love too big, too deep, to die even in this place.

You thought back to that very first meeting, back when his voice was a gentle lull that wrapped around you, soothing away years of pain. He had been your only light, your guiding star in a night that had grown so, so dark.

You loved him fiercely, with a loyalty born of survival, a love that had grown in the cracks of your brokenness. And even now, at the end of it all, that love was unbreakable.

"To my love, Joel," you began, words blurring as tears welled up, spilling over the edges of your bruised eyes.

"I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but if you do, know that you have been everything to me. You gave me life in a way no one else ever did. For every moment, every touch, every look, I thank you. You loved me with a love I had never known, a love that carried me through this world when I didn’t know how to stand on my own."

You paused, gathering strength, your chest rising in shallow breaths, and continued, letting the words flow with the quiet intensity of a prayer.

"I never blamed you, Joel, not for anything. I know about the things you did, the choices you made. And I want you to know that it's okay—I understand. You were trying to protect me, even if it meant walking through the fire. You did what you had to do to keep me safe, and I could never judge you for that. If anything, I thank you for it. You are my protector, my guardian, my love."

The memory of him, every part of him—the way he’d pull you close, the warmth of his hand on yours, the steady beat of his heart as you lay together in the quiet—flashed through your mind.

"I pray for you, Joel. Every night, every moment I have left, I pray. I pray for your peace, for your strength, that God may keep you safe and lead you out of this darkness. I know I’m not there to hold your hand, but you have my heart, and it’s with you always, no matter what."

You could feel your own heartbeat slowing, your strength fading, but you forced your fingers to keep moving across the paper, etching the last of your soul into each word, a final testament to a love that would outlast even this.

"If you read this now it means I found you. I found you just to tell you that I made it real far, Joel. I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. And while you were torn apart, I would still wait with you there, no matter the cost."

The weight of your words pressed down on you as you neared the end, each sentence a painful goodbye.

"Don’t think about it too hard, honey. Or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again. Don’t worry about me or these green eyes, baby. Just know that I love you. And I’ll see you when you get here."

A single tear slipped down, leaving a trail on the ink as it dried, forever a mark of the sorrow you’d carried for him, even here, even now.

"I love you forever, Joel," you scrawled at the end, closing the letter as if it were a prayer sealed with your own heart’s blood.

You looked at it for a moment, each word a testament of your devotion, the truest thing you had ever written. And as you pressed it close to your chest, you whispered a quiet vow, hoping he could somehow feel it—wherever he was, wherever you were.

"You’ll always have me with you, Joel. In your heart, in your soul. Every breath you take, I'll always be with you. Don’t ever blame yourself. You were my savior, my love. I forgive you, and I love you. I love you. I will always love you. Always."

"Good night, my love. I'll see you soon."

you whisper as you wrote, voice trembling, as if even the air itself could carry those words to him, beyond the walls of this hell, across the endless miles between you.

It hurts, knowing this letter is a goodbye, your last way of leaving a piece of yourself with him, in case you can’t make it.

You’ve always been afraid of dying, a fear so deeply rooted that it seemed impossible to unearth. But now, lying here, battered and bruised, it isn’t death that scares you—it’s the thought of never seeing him again, of leaving this world without his arms around you one last time.

Your mind drifts back to the memories of him, the warmth of his steady embrace that felt like home, his hands worn yet gentle, holding you with a kind of care you’d never known.

Joel, with his brown eyes that looked at you like you were his whole world, like you were something worth saving, worth loving. His voice echoes in your mind, gravelly and low, calming in a way that made you feel safe no matter how dark the world seemed.

You think of the way he’d call you his "doll," "babygirl," a name that melted the armor around your heart every time.

The pain in your body fades, giving way to a softness as you sink into memories. You can feel the ghost of his touch, his arms wrapped around you, as though his warmth could chase away even this darkness.

His laughter fills your mind, and in its sound, you find a strange peace, a comfort that holds you like his arms once did.

In the silence, you let yourself feel the depth of your love for him, a love so fierce it made you feel like you could rise again, like every wound, every hurt could be forgotten if it meant one more chance to see him.

You think of the nights spent curled beside him, his breathing soft and steady beside you, each rise and fall like a lullaby just for you.

His love was the one beautiful thing in a broken world, a light that shone even now, against all odds.

Your body aches, each breath heavy, but as you let yourself fall deeper into his memory, you feel something like calm. The shadows around you blur, your mind slipping into that in-between place where pain and peace blend.

Joel is still there, in your thoughts, his face the last thing you hold onto as the darkness begins to take you. You feel yourself slipping, surrendering to the pull of exhaustion.

And with that, you let go, letting yourself drift into that soft, you need a sleep for a while, you feel his warmth surround you one last time.

***

Emma stumbled back into her apartment, her hands shaking as she slammed the door shut behind her. Panic thundered in her chest, her breaths coming too fast, her mind racing through everything she’d just seen—your face, your desperate plea, the bruises darkening your skin. She could barely process it all.

“What happened?” Jim’s voice broke through, his brow furrowing as he stepped toward her.

She searched for her phone, fingers clumsy as she threw aside bags, tossed papers, looking. “Jim, I—I found her. I found her,” she whispered, her words barely more than a gasp.

“Who?” Jim asked, reaching out to steady her. “Emma, who did you find?”

“Her, Jim. Get my fucking phone!” she demanded, desperate. She couldn’t stop now—not when she was this close. Jim didn’t ask questions, immediately helping her search through the mess scattered across the counter.

The moment her hand closed around her phone, she pulled up Tommy’s number, dialing so fast her thumb nearly missed the button. The first call went to voicemail, and she cursed under her breath. “Pick up,” she hissed, “please, just pick up…”

On the second ring, Tommy answered. “Emma?”

“Tommy.” Her voice broke, raw with relief and desperation. “I found her. I found her.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Tommy asked, voice thick with confusion. “Is Joel with you?” Emma asked. "No, where is she?"

"She’s in California. You need to get here, now, both of you. She’s… worse, Tommy, she’s in real bad shape. I don't know how long she can make it.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Tommy stammered, trying to catch up. “She’s in California? How the hell did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she snapped, cutting him off. “The man who took her is Negan Smith. Me and Jim are getting his address now. We’re going to look for her, but she told me to tell you—tell Joel she’s waiting. Please, Tommy, don’t waste time, just get your fucking ass here!”

The line went silent, and she held her breath, hoping Tommy could understand the urgency. Finally, he spoke, steady but heavy with something like relief and terror all at once. “We’re coming.”

Tommy clicked off the call, his hands still clenched around the phone, trying to wrap his mind around Emma’s words. California. So far away.

He dialed Joel, only for it to go to voicemail. “Dammit, Joel, where are you?” He tried Frank next, desperate, hoping he’d find him there, but no answer.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Joel paced another faceless motel, this one in Arizona. He felt lost, like he was sinking deeper and deeper into a void where every day took him farther from you.

Each motel, each new face at the reception, each empty hallway echoed with his failure. His whole body ached with the weight of it, the guilt that clawed at his heart every time he looked around and realized you weren’t there.

The reception bell jingled as he approached the counter. He didn’t even know what he was hoping to find anymore—just some scrap, any hint of you he could hold onto.

But then his phone buzzed, and Tommy’s name flashed across the screen. Joel felt his pulse spike, something instinctive telling him this was it, that there was news. He picked up, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Hello?”

“Joel, I know where she is.”

The words struck him like a blow to the chest. His heart plummeted, hope surging painfully against the fear that threatened to choke him. “What? Is she… Is she alive?”

“Yes, Joel,” Tommy’s voice was thick, strained. “Emma found her, she’s in California. She saw her, talked to her. She’s with a man named Negan Smith.”

Negan.

That name seared through him like a brand, snapping everything into painful clarity. Negan. He remembered you talking about him, the creepy guy, the shadow he’d ignored.

Rage bubbled up, fierce and raw, as he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. For missing it when you’d been right there, telling him about this man.

Without another word, Joel bolted from the lobby and strode across the parking lot, his mind consumed with the drive to reach you, to finally bring you home.

He’d torn the world apart already, but now it felt like nothing would be enough until you were safe, back in his arms.

“Where are you?” Tommy asked, voice taut.

“Arizona. It’s a nine-hour drive to California.” He heard Tommy’s exasperated sigh through the line.

“That’s too long, Joel. You need to get there fast. Emma’s working on getting his address.”

“I’ll book a flight tonight,” Joel replied, his tone fierce, unwavering. “You call the cops, Tommy. I don’t fucking care what you have to do, just get them there. I need to get her.”

He hung up, his pulse hammering as he strode into the night.

Joel drove through the night, his heart pounding in rhythm with the steady hum of the engine. The world outside was a blur of dark shadows and streaked lights, but his mind—his mind was full of you.

Images of you flooded his thoughts: your laughter echoing softly like a melody he’d heard a lifetime ago, the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him, the warmth of your touch, gentle and steady, grounding him like nothing else could.

And now, knowing you were out there, alone, with that monster… the thought tore him apart.

Anger rose like a firestorm within him, burning hot and consuming, and it took every ounce of control not to press down on the accelerator, not to tear through the night faster, harder. He needed to be there now, not hours from now.

Every second felt like an eternity wasted. The image of Negan’s face—the face he’d missed, ignored—came to him, filling him with a fury he didn’t know he was capable of.

The man who’d stolen you, who’d dared to lay a hand on you… Joel’s hands clenched tightly around the wheel, his knuckles white with the force of his grip.

He thought of you and the memories that had kept him going this far: the nights you’d whispered your fears to him, the way you’d leaned into him when things got tough, and that look in your eyes when you told him you loved him.

The love you’d shown him was like light pouring through the cracks in his broken heart, filling him with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years. And he’d failed you—he’d let you slip away into darkness when he should have known, should have seen.

In between the flashes of rage and regret, fear twisted through him like a silent, cold shadow. What if he was too late? The thought clawed at his chest, each passing mile stretching that possibility, and he cursed himself for every second he hadn’t realized the danger.

The thought of seeing you again both terrified and thrilled him—he feared the pain in your eyes, the hurt that would linger, yet he longed to hold you close, to know you were safe and back in his arms where he’d vowed to protect you.

Joel’s mind raced back to that promise he’d made himself—to shield you from harm, to give you the love, all the love you deserves. Now, he’d tear through hell and back for you, for a chance to fulfill it.

The streets stretched on before him, dark and endless, but his heart held one single, unbreakable truth: he would find you, he would take down anyone who stood in his way, and he would bring you back into his world—safe, whole, and loved.

***

Emma's nerves were already frayed as she and Jim pushed through the dim alleys and streets of Los Angeles, searching for any scrap of information on Negan Smith.

The city felt different tonight—empty and strange, almost like it was holding its breath. Los Angeles was supposed to be bustling, noisy, alive. But tonight, everything seemed quiet. Almost too quiet.

Emma gripped the flyer tighter, her eyes tracing over the worn, printed face—the photo of you that Joel’s friend Frank must’ve spread around the city.

Seeing your face printed on thin paper only made it all the more real, and the desperation clawed at her chest. She and Jim decided to split up, covering more ground quickly. Jim went downtown, and she pushed her way into a nearby bar.

The bar was a haze of dim lights and smoke, and Emma moved through it, flashing the flyer to anyone who would look her way. She repeated herself like a prayer, "Have you seen this girl? She’s missing—please, any information."

But most people ignored her or shook their heads. She was about to turn away when a voice broke through the noise.

"I saw her before,"

Emma spun around to find the speaker. A man in his fifties, dressed in a black leather jacket, his hair slicked back, eyes sharp. He gave her a slight, knowing smile, and it sparked something in her—a spark of hope or maybe just a flicker of relief. She approached him quickly, holding up the flyer.

“You’ve seen her?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He nodded, eyes flicking over the flyer with feigned casualness. “Yeah, I saw her working at a strip club downtown.” His voice was gravelly, the sort of voice that had seen a few lifetimes and wasn’t surprised by much.

Emma’s heart jolted at his words. “A strip club? Where? Please, I need to know where she is.”

“Relax,” he said, his voice a slow drawl. He waved a hand, motioning for her to follow. “It’s just a few blocks from here. Just follow me." He turned and began walking, a calm confidence in his stride.

Emma hesitated, glancing around the quiet bar. The shadows felt heavier, deeper, and she forced herself to push down the strange unease that was growing in her.

She had to follow him.

This was the first real lead she’d had. Taking a deep breath, she slipped her phone into her pocket, her hands clenching into fists as she trailed behind him.

They turned down narrow alleys and side streets, the noise of the city seeming to fade with every step. He moved with a steady purpose, leading her farther from the lights and crowds.

She could feel the sweat building on her palms, her pulse quickening as the buildings around them grew taller and more isolated. This didn’t feel right.

She looked over her shoulder once or twice, but there was no one else around. The sense of being followed lingered, like an itch she couldn’t shake.

"Where are we going?” she asked, her voice sharper than she’d intended.

“Just a little farther,” he replied smoothly, barely glancing back. “It’s right up ahead. Just around the corner.”

Emma hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to stop, to turn around, but she pushed the fear aside. She was so close. She couldn’t give up now.

They rounded another corner, and she stopped dead. The alley was empty, an eerie silence pressing in. She took a shaky step back.

“Where’s the club?” she whispered, her voice tight with fear.

The man turned slowly to face her, a small, sinister smile spreading across his face. He took a step forward, the shadows casting his face in sharp, menacing angles.

“You said you're looking for a guy name Negan too right?" "Look, this is your lucky day, sweetheart, I'm Negan."

Emma’s heart dropped as the realization hit her. She took a step back, eyes darting around for any escape route, she's trying to run, before anything else, Negan capture her and bang her head to the wall till she unconscious.

Meanwhile, Jim was scouring the downtown area, his heart pounding as he asked strangers, bartenders, shopkeepers if they’d seen you.

The emptiness of the streets gnawed at him, a chill creeping down his spine as he moved from one place to the next. There was something off about tonight, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He kept glancing around, feeling as if someone was watching him.

He checked his phone, hoping Emma had found something. Nothing. His heart hammered, a sense of dread building with each passing minute. He took a deep breath, shoving down the unease. He had to find you. Emma had to be okay.

Then, as he turned into another side street, something cold and sharp pressed against his back. Jim froze, his stomach dropping as a rough voice whispered into his ear.

“You should have kept out of this.”

And then, in an instant Negan snap his neck, everything went black.

***

A hazy fog clung to your senses as you opened your eyes, your vision flickering, swimming in and out as you tried to grasp onto reality. Pain throbbed in your temples, like distant thunder echoing in your head.

Slowly, the room around you settled into shape, and you took in the familiar darkness, the cold, damp walls of the basement—the place you had been trapped for what felt like forever.

Then, like a sharp, jarring note that shattered the silence, you heard it—a scream. It was high-pitched, frantic, echoing in the room. A woman’s voice, raw with terror, but somehow familiar.

And then Negan’s low, mocking laugh cut through the air, making your heart slam against your chest.

“Wake up, princess,” he drawled, his voice laced with twisted amusement. “Look who I got for you.”

You blinked, forcing the blurriness to subside as you pushed yourself up, still dizzy, still groggy. When your gaze finally focused, a sick, cold dread washed over you.

Tied to one of the basement’s support beams, her hands bound cruelly behind her, her ankles tied together, was Emma.

A dirty cloth gag was tied around her mouth, stifling her desperate pleas, her eyes wide and red-rimmed with terror as she looked at you.

“No, no, no…” you choked out, the word falling from your lips like a shattered promise. Emma—Negan had her.

A wave of nausea twisted in your stomach as you struggled against your own bindings, but they were unyielding. It was all your fault. Emma had come looking for you, and now she was trapped here, in this dark hell.

Negan crouched beside her, a smug, dark glint in his eyes as he watched your horror unfold. “Got you your best friend,” he sneered, his lips pulling back in a twisted smile. “Seems like little Miss Detective here thought she could play hero. Isn’t that cute?”

Your voice cracked as you struggled to find words. “Let her go,” you managed to say, your voice wavering but resolute, despite the terror coursing through your veins. “Please… let her go.”

Negan chuckled, ignoring your plea as he grabbed a fistful of Emma’s hair, yanking her head back so she was forced to look up at him. The cruel grip made her wince, but her gaze flicked to you, desperate, pleading.

It was like a dagger twisting in your chest, knowing that you were helpless to protect her, that she was suffering because of you.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t get to make demands here,” Negan said, his tone mocking, dripping with venom. He dragged Emma’s head to the side, making sure she could see you, as if enjoying the torment on both your faces.

“This one? She came looking for you. Sniffing around like a lost puppy. Now she gets to stay a while.”

Emma’s gaze locked onto yours, her eyes wild with fear, and in them, you could see all the questions she couldn’t ask aloud, all the pain she was enduring. Tears pricked at your own eyes as guilt crashed over you like a wave, suffocating and cold.

“You… you don’t have to do this,” you pleaded, your voice shaking, but Negan merely chuckled, shaking his head with a look of cruel amusement.

“Oh, but I want to,” he murmured, his hand still tangled in Emma’s hair. His fingers tightened, making her gasp in pain. “She thought she was clever, thought she could outsmart me. So I think it’s only fair she learns the consequences of getting involved in things she doesn’t understand.”

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in as panic clawed at you. Your heart pounded painfully, and you could feel every beat echoing in your ribs like a warning, a reminder of how fragile this moment was, how everything could break in an instant.

Your mind raced, every thought a frantic, spiraling whirlwind of despair and helplessness. How had it come to this? How had you become so powerless, so trapped, that even trying to save a friend only brought them harm?

You couldn’t breathe. The thought of Negan turning his sadistic focus on Emma was unbearable. She didn’t deserve this—none of it. She’d come to help, risking everything just to find you, and now… now she was here, locked in this nightmare with you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking as you looked up at Negan, hating the vulnerability in your eyes, the tears you couldn’t hold back. “Please… just let her go. She doesn’t deserve this. None of this is her fault.”

Negan laughed softly, a sound that seemed to crawl up the walls, filling every shadowed corner. “Fault?” he echoed mockingly. “Oh, princess, I don’t care about who’s at fault. This isn’t about fairness. It’s about reminding you that you belong to me now. And she’s just the price of your little rebellion.”

You could feel the desperation clawing at you, suffocating, as if your lungs were filling with ice. Every fiber of your being ached to scream, to fight, to do anything to break free and protect Emma, but you were trapped, chained by the twisted, nightmarish rules of this place, this man.

Negan knelt down beside Emma, his hand still gripping her hair as he leaned in close, his voice soft but dripping with malice. “Now, don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll have plenty of time to talk things over with your friend here. It’s going to be a long night.” His smirk widened as he released Emma, standing up and dusting his hands off with mock satisfaction.

Your voice cracked as you begged, desperation spilling out of you like blood from an open wound. “Don’t touch her! Please, Negan, I beg you. I’ll do anything—just please let her go. Please.”

But he only smirked, a twisted, satisfied glint in his eyes. “Oh, now you’re begging? Did you already forget you killed my child?” His voice was venomous, laced with resentment that had simmered far too long.

And then his fist met your stomach with brutal force, and you doubled over, gasping as pain radiated through your body, so sharp and consuming it left you breathless.

Emma’s muffled scream echoed through the darkened basement, desperate and broken as she watched you suffer. She was struggling against her bindings, but there was nothing she could do, no way to stop what was happening.

Negan only laughed, his voice mocking, cruel. “You didn’t think your actions would have consequences, huh?” He punctuated his words with another savage kick, sending a fresh surge of agony through you.

“You… need to be taught a lesson. Acting like a fucking brat,” he sneered, grabbing your hair and yanking your head up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes gleamed with sadistic satisfaction as he added, “You know what happens to those who try to defy me?”

And then he threw you across the room like you were nothing, his rage boiling over as he stormed out, his footsteps echoing up the stairs. You lay there, every nerve in your body alight with pain, each breath a struggle.

But as soon as the door closed, you forced yourself to move, to drag your broken, battered body across the floor to Emma. You could hear her desperate, panicked breaths as you reached her and pulled the cloth from her mouth.

“Oh my god, oh my god…” Emma whispered, her voice shaking as she looked at you, eyes wide and glistening with tears. “We need to get out of here. Grab my phone. Call Tommy, now!”

With trembling hands, you grabbed her phone from her pocket, your heart racing as you dialed. Every second felt like a lifetime, each beat of your heart thundering louder in your ears.

And then, as the call began to connect, your breath hitched—a new call was coming in. An unknown number.

You answered without thinking, and your heart nearly stopped at the sound on the other end. That voice, the voice you’d dreamt of, longed for. A voice you had feared you’d never hear again.

“Emma? It’s Joel. Where are you? I’m heading to California tonight, I—”

“Joel.” Your voice broke as you whispered his name, and on the other end, he fell silent.

Time itself seemed to stop as Joel processed the sound of your voice. For so long, he had feared this moment, had dreaded that he’d never hear you again, never have the chance to hold you, protect you.

And now, hearing your voice—shaken, scared, but alive—struck him to his core. You were his heart, his soul, the person he’d die for without a second thought. Every ounce of guilt, every sleepless night, every sacrifice was for you.

“Doll,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Doll, where are you?”

Tears poured down your face as you choked out, “Joel, please, please… come now. I need you, Joel. Please, I need you.” Your words were desperate, trembling, but somehow, they made him feel stronger, more determined. He couldn’t lose you—not now, not ever.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice softened, his own panic barely masked as he struggled to stay calm for you. “Tell me, where are you? Do you know?”

“He got Emma,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “He has us both, Joel, please… he’s hurting her, he’s… Joel, I need you.”

His voice was tender but firm, a quiet strength weaving through each word as he spoke. “I’m coming to save you, darlin’. I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear it. I’ll never let you go again. Just… just hang on for me, alright? Stay strong, baby. You’re gonna be okay. I promise you, I’ll save you.”

You could hear the worry threading his voice, but his words wrapped around you, a fragile shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you.

“I’m scared, Joel,” you sobbed, unable to hold back the fear anymore, the terror clawing its way up your throat. “I’m so scared.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered, voice breaking slightly as he struggled to hold it together. “But you’re strong, remember? You’re stronger than anyone I know. Just hold on, okay? I’ll be there before you know it. Don’t be afraid. I love you, baby. Just… hold on for me.”

You clutched the phone, drawing strength from his words, the promise of his love steadying you. You closed your eyes, holding onto his voice like a lifeline, but then—Negan’s footsteps thundered back down the stairs.

Before you could react, he wrenched the phone from your hand, tearing Joel’s voice from your ear.

“NO!” you screamed, reaching out, but Negan shoved you back with a cruel laugh, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Well, well, well… look who it is.” His voice was dripping with malice, savoring every second. Joel’s voice, faint but seething with fury, crackled through the line. “I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill you, you bastard. You lay a hand on her, and I swear—”

Negan grinned, his eyes glinting with dark satisfaction. “Oh, you’ve got a mouth on you. I’ll be sure to let her know how much you care, right before I break her. You’re too late, Miller.”

Negan’s laugh echoed through the dimly lit basement, twisting around you like thick smoke, suffocating and inescapable. He tossed Emma's phone onto the floor with a careless flick, then turned his gaze to you, eyes gleaming with a sick thrill as he dragged you closer, his grip merciless.

Fist after brutal fist connected with your ribs, your cheek, your stomach, each strike dulling your senses as you felt yourself sinking into a haze of pain, your breaths shallow and gasping.

Emma’s voice cracked through the brutality, a desperate, pleading cry. “No! Stop it! Stop it!” Her words barely seemed to reach him, her voice like a whisper lost in a hurricane as he continued to beat you, his face contorted with a twisted, frustrated rage.

“Can you just stop disobeying me, for god’s sake?” Negan’s voice was vicious, laced with a fury that seemed to have no end. “You were so fucking good this year!”

You could barely hold yourself upright as he finally threw you back, the cold, hard floor against your bruised skin like ice on a burn.

You crawled toward Emma, each movement a struggle, forcing yourself to meet her terrified eyes as you tried to breathe through the pain. Negan’s voice brought you both back to the nightmare at hand.

“Oh, I kept this for a long time, as souvenir when I found them,” he drawled, hauling a large, worn burlap sack into view, his eyes dancing with a twisted delight.

“Wanted to show you something. You might recognize them… thought they looked good in my freezer.”

Your body tensed, dread crawling up your spine as he reached into the sack, the slow, sick satisfaction on his face a silent promise of horror.

He pulled something out, the shape grotesque and heavy, and when he turned to show you, the sight struck you like lightning.

In his right hand dangled Pastor Ben’s head, eyes frozen in a lifeless, glassy stare, his mouth twisted into a grotesque half-scream. And in his left, Jamie’s head, his delicate features now haunting, locked in an expression of terror.

Blood, dark and coagulated, clung to their severed necks like rust, framing their faces in a sick parody of halos.

“Say hello to your little friends!” Negan taunted, waving the heads before you with a triumphant smirk.

You felt bile rise in your throat, the world spinning around you as nausea crashed over you in waves.

Emma’s scream shattered the silence, a piercing, helpless cry, and her eyes were wide with pure horror, her skin pale as she trembled beside you.

Negan grinned, savoring your reactions as if they were the finest applause. “I took their heads! Isn’t it lovely?” He leaned in closer, eyes boring into yours. “This is what you’ll end up as if you don’t learn to obey.”

His words cut through the haze, sharp and venomous, and you felt a surge of disgust, a sick revulsion that clawed at your insides. You barely had time to process it before Negan’s gaze shifted to you, a dark smirk twisting his lips.

“Oh, and sweetheart… how was the meat?”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. No. No, it can’t be. Panic flared in your mind, snapping puzzle pieces together in a grotesque image you couldn’t bear to look at, and yet it was inescapable.

Every bite you’d taken, every piece of flesh that had crossed your lips—all of it now made sense in the most horrifying way.

Negan chuckled, watching the dawning horror spread across your face. “Oh, please, don’t look so shocked. The meat wasn’t them.” He smirked. “They were from some other girls… from Chicago, West Virginia. They tasted good, right?”

Emma’s face turned green as she doubled over, retching. You felt yourself recoil, the taste of bile in your mouth as every meal, every bite you’d ever taken under Negan’s watch replayed in your mind with sickening clarity.

The horror of it seeped into your bones, an all-consuming violation that made your skin crawl, like you could never be clean again.

“You’re… you’re sick,” you managed, voice trembling with disgust as you glared at him, the fury in your eyes a tiny flicker of defiance. “YOU ARE FUCKING SICK!"

Negan’s laugh filled the air, his amusement bright and mocking. “Oh, come on now—is that any way to speak to the man who’s fed you so well? You liked it, didn’t you?” His eyes glittered with a dark, twisted joy as he leaned closer, his voice a low, mocking whisper. “Every bite. You loved it.”

Your skin crawled, your mind reeling as you tried to comprehend the depth of his depravity. He was more than a monster—he was something far darker, something that defied words, something that preyed on the most innocent parts of you, staining them with his cruelty.

The basement had never felt darker. It swallowed you both, thick with the scent of rust and damp cement, as if the room itself was bleeding along with you.

Every word that left Negan’s mouth was poison, each syllable seeping into your skin, weighing down on you like the very air around you was suffocating, pressing you down with an invisible force that you couldn’t escape.

His laughter was hollow and sharp, echoing through the space like broken glass—each jagged shard settling into your bones.

Then, you felt something brush against your fingers: small, cool, metal. Emma’s trembling hand nudged a pair of scissors into yours. You didn’t know how she had managed to get hold of them, her hands bound and body weakened, but the feel of it, sharp and hidden between the two of you.

She was guiding them into your hand as Negan continued, his voice oily with satisfaction, oblivious.

His monologue washed over you like filth, each word sinking deeper into your mind, tainting you with his delusions. He was recounting the first time he had seen you, the twisted way he had painted your innocence into something dark and sick, a figure molded just for him.

“When I saw you on that porch,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, almost tender, “I knew you’d be the one to take care of me, in ways you didn’t even know you could…”

"I'll kill them all just for you, your parents, I was the one who saved you, not Joel fucking miller!"

The cold edge of the scissors grounded you, your grip tightening around them as you worked to free Emma’s wrists. She remained silent, her eyes locked on his, fear mingling with a fragile resolve as you both waited, breaths quiet, slow.

Negan’s smile widened, his eyes narrowing as he continued, his words punctuated by a grotesque sincerity. “We could start a family, sweetheart. I could give you a chance.” He leaned in, his voice now almost a whisper. “A daughter, maybe. She could take care of me… when you’re gone.”

Your stomach lurched, bile rising as his sick fantasy unveiled itself. Emma’s eyes met yours, wide and pleading, her lips forming the barest of a silent Now.

With a surge of adrenaline, you both lunged. Emma’s hands flew to his shoulders, pinning him with all the strength she could muster. Your arms were shaking, but you held the scissors steady and drove them toward his chest—but he twisted, and the blade sunk deep into his hand instead.

"FUCKKK" Negan howled, a guttural sound, and shoved you both off with a violent rage. Emma crashed against the wall with a sickening thud, and you were thrown to the cold floor, the wind knocked out of you. You struggled to sit up, gasping, as Negan looked at his bleeding hand with a snarl of disbelief.

“You… bitch!” he screamed, fury twisting his face into something inhuman, his eyes burning with hate as he yanked the scissors from his flesh, blood dripping thickly to the floor.

He stalked toward you, his face a mask of unbridled rage. He grabbed you by the hair, hauling you up, and slammed your head against the wall, once, twice—each impact sending a sickening jolt through your skull, blurring your vision as spots danced in the dim light.

His words were coming in snarls, disjointed and raw with anger. “I’m fucking done with this! You wanna learn the hard way? I'll fucking show you the hard way so you’ll fucking learn.”

He threw you to the ground, your body limp and battered, as he turned to Emma, the cruelty in his gaze sharpening. She tried to crawl back, gasping, but his hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground with a terrifying ease.

You pushed yourself up, weak and dizzy, desperation clawing at your chest as you reached for him. “No! Let her go!”

He only laughed, his grip tightening around Emma’s neck as her face turned red, her mouth gasping soundlessly. He looked into her eyes with sick satisfaction, a mockery of tenderness as he whispered, “Any last words, brat?”

Through her labored breaths, her gaze defiant, Emma spat out her final words. “Go to hell.”

In a swift, brutal motion, Negan drove the blade into her chest. The world shattered around you, your scream tearing through the air as you watched the life drain from her eyes, her face contorting in pain before stillness claimed her.

"EMMA!"

It felt as if your very soul had been ripped out, leaving you hollow, raw, a vessel of pure agony.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as you stared at Emma’s lifeless form, her body crumpled on the floor. Every part of you screamed, your insides twisting as though poisoned, the horror and grief coursing through you like venom.

The shadows around you seemed to stretch, swallowing you in their merciless embrace, as though the darkness itself was feeding off the horror.

Negan turned to you, his eyes dark, gleaming with a satisfaction that was worse than any nightmare. “See what happens when you disobey?” he sneered, his words twisting into the broken pieces of your mind.

You didn’t feel human anymore, nothing but a body suspended in suffering, consumed by terror and grief. Emma’s last breath echoed in your mind, a sound that would haunt you forever.

This was a hell you could never have imagined. And you were trapped, completely and utterly, with no light left to guide you out.

The tears streamed down your face, hot and relentless, each sob tearing at your throat like jagged glass. It was your fault—Emma was dead because of you.

The weight of guilt settled heavily on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs. You curled in on yourself, the reality of her lifeless body lodged in your mind, echoing endlessly, a reminder of your failure to protect her.

“I will kill you,” you rasped, your voice breaking as you glared at Negan. He still held Emma by her neck, her body dangling lifelessly, an object of his amusement.

He stepped closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face, mocking you with every slow movement.

“What did you say?” he taunted, his voice a sickly sweet whisper as he leaned in, pretending to strain to hear your words.

“I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!” you screamed, the sound raw and desperate, echoing off the cold walls. His laughter was a dark melody, wrapping around you like a noose.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his tone dripping with condescension, “you’re not brave enough for that. Just a scared little girl, always waiting for someone to save you.” He tilted his head, eyes glinting with malice.

“See you had so many chances to fight back, to break free, but you never did, did you? You’re just a kid—a broken one. Nobody wants you, nobody loves you. Nobody but me.”

His words sliced through you, a cruel reminder of your isolation, your vulnerability. He leaned in closer, the stench of his twisted satisfaction wrapping around you like smoke, suffocating.

“You think your precious Joel will save you? I’ll kill him before you even know it.”

A wave of rage surged through you, boiling over as you shouted,“Just kill me, Negan! Just fucking kill me!”

He advanced, a grotesque puppeteer, toying with the strings of your desperation. Emma’s body dangled from his grip, lifeless and haunting, a cruel reminder of what he could take from you.

The image of her crushed spirit seeped into your heart, and you felt your resolve waver.

“There’s no fun in that, is there?” Negan mused, glancing at Emma’s still form.

“Why would I want to end it quickly when I can keep you around? Besides…” His voice dipped lower, darkly playful. “You’re already dead, aren’t you?”

"You're dead inside."

The words wrapped around you, twisting like barbed wire, leaving you gasping for breath. He crushed a piece of paper beneath his boot, then picked it up, chuckling as he read.

“Oh, look what we have here,” he said, eyes sparkling with sadistic joy. “It’s your letter to Joel. A goodbye letter. How sweet. So you’ve been preparing, huh?”

He tucked the crumpled paper into his pocket, an act so cruelly casual it made your skin crawl. “I assure you, you will never see him again.”

"Now, excuse me miss, I got a dinner to prepare," he said then walking away with Emma's body.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING COWARD, NEGAN! WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL ME? FUCKING KILL ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!” you screamed, fury boiling over. But he simply ignored you, his grin never faltering.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he turned and shut the basement door behind him, sealing you in darkness. The finality of it sent a chill through your veins, a cold that seeped into your bones.

You were left alone with the grotesque trophies of his madness—Ben and Jamie’s heads, their lifeless eyes staring blankly at you, accusing you, mocking you.

The basement felt like a tomb, the air thick and suffocating, heavy with despair. You curled up on the cold floor, the dampness seeping into your skin, a reminder of the hopelessness that surrounded you.

Your mind spiraled, trapped in a whirlpool of horror and grief, each thought crashing against the next until you were drowning in your own anguish.

The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. You pressed your palms against your ears, trying to block out the memories of Emma’s screams, of Negan’s taunts, but it was no use.

They echoed in the recesses of your mind, a relentless reminder of your powerlessness.

You felt hollowed out, like a shell abandoned on the shore, waiting for the tide to reclaim you. The darkness around you was alive, pulsing with the shadows of what could have been—what should have been.

Hope was a fragile thing, and in this hell, it felt like a distant memory, a whisper that barely reached you.

But as despair threatened to consume you whole, a flicker of defiance ignited within. If you were still breathing, still alive, there was a chance—a chance to escape this nightmare, a chance to honor Emma’s memory.

You wouldn’t let Negan win.

You pressed your back against the cold wall, forcing yourself to breathe, to think. There had to be a way out of this hell. You had to find the strength to fight back.

Emma wouldn’t want you to give in, to let the darkness swallow you whole. You would find a way, no matter what it took.

And with that thought, you began to plot your escape, feeling the embers of resolve ignite within the abyss of your despair.

***

The hum of the airport was a chaotic symphony of voices and footsteps, but all Joel could hear was the steady thrum of his own heartbeat, echoing like a war drum in his ears. He had just landed at LAX, adrenaline surging through his veins, a desperate urgency propelling him forward. He fumbled for his phone, his fingers shaking as he dialed Tommy's number, praying for the answers he so desperately needed.

“Tommy, I need Emma's address now!” Joel's voice was a low growl, laced with anxiety.

“What? Are you in California now?” Tommy’s voice crackled through the line, confusion apparent.

"He's got Emma too, Tommy. I--I spoke to her. I fucking spoke to her, I--I need to save her, I got no fucking time, I have to be quick," Tommy can hear Joel's voice trembling as he mentioned you.

Tommy then spelled out Emma's address, "Okay, I'll look to her place first. Have you told the cops?" Joel asked Tommy.

"I did, but Joel if they--" before Tommy can answer Joe cut him off, "I don't give a shit, Tommy, just fucking get them here to back me up"

Without waiting for a response, Joel hung up, his mind racing faster than his feet as he rushed to catch a taxi, the city blurring around him in a haze of panic and dread.

When he finally reaches her apartment, he bounds up the stairs, knocking hard on the door. Nothing. Not a sound. He knocks again, harder this time, his fist meeting the wood with mounting fury.

He can feel it, that something terrible, lingering in the stillness like the silence itself is holding its breath. Another knock, louder—and at last, a door down the hall creaks open, and a middle-aged woman peers out.

“Are you looking for the Parksons?” she asks, eyeing him with concern.

Joel’s voice is a rasp. “Yes. They’re not answering.”

“Oh, I’m the landlord. Sometimes, those two… newlyweds, you know,” she says with a weak smile, her tone teetering between nervousness and sympathy.

“Can you open the door for me?” His voice cracks with urgency. “I’m Emma's uncle. I need to see her.”

Reluctantly, she nods, fumbling with her keys as she reaches the door. But as she turns the lock, Joel catches a sickly, metallic odor seeping out. The unmistakable stench of blood. His stomach clenches, but he swallows hard, steeling himself.

The door swings open, and the sight waiting within is a nightmare come to life. The room is in complete disarray, shattered glass and scattered furniture telling of a struggle that couldn’t have gone quietly.

And to the horror.

Jim stands—or rather, he’s been arranged to stand, stripped of flesh, skin turned into a macabre canvas, his body held upright on a broom handle speared through him from his base to his throat. He’s frozen in a ghastly semblance of life, his hollow eye sockets staring blankly ahead, his mouth agape, still stretched around a piece of paper lodged between his teeth. Blood pools beneath him, glistening under the dim light, each drop a fresh echo of brutality.

The landlord lets out a piercing scream, stumbling back in horror, and Joel, teeth clenched and trembling, growls, “Call the fucking cops.”

The woman ran back to her apartment to call the cops, Joel’s jaw tightens, his expression hard as iron. This is no crime of passion, no ordinary act of violence. This is a message.

He steps forward, tearing his gaze from Jim’s body only to focus on the note lodged in his mouth. He reaches up, his fingers brushing the edge of the paper. His heart is racing, each beat a heavy thud echoing through his chest. He’s seen violence. He’s waded through blood and death and destruction, but this… this is personal, a wound carved directly into his soul.

With a deep breath, he pulls the note free, his eyes darting across the letters scrawled in familiar handwriting.

Your handwriting.

"To my love, Joel, I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but if you do, know that you have been everything to me. You gave me life in a way no one else ever did. For every moment, every touch, every look, I thank you. You loved me with a love I had never known, a love that carried me through this world when I didn’t know how to stand on my own. I never blamed you, Joel, not for anything. I know about the things you did, the choices you made. And I want you to know that it's okay—I understand. You were trying to protect me, even if it meant walking through the fire. You did what you had to do to keep me safe, and I could never judge you for that. If anything, I thank you for it. You are my protector, my guardian, my love. I pray for you, Joel. Every night, every moment I have left, I pray. I pray for your peace, for your strength, that God may keep you safe and lead you out of this darkness. I know I’m not there to hold your hand, but you have my heart, and it’s with you always, no matter what. If you read this now it means I found you. I found you just to tell you that I made it real far, Joel. I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did. And while you were torn apart, I would still wait with you there, no matter the cost. Don’t think about it too hard, honey. Or you’ll never sleep a wink at night again. Don’t worry about me or these green eyes, baby. Just know that I love you. And I’ll see you when you get here. I love you forever, Joel You’ll always have me with you, Joel. In your heart, in your soul. Every breath you take, I'll always be with you. Don’t ever blame yourself. You were my savior, my love. I forgive you, and I love you. I love you. I will always love you. Always. Good night, my love. I'll see you soon."

The words blur in his vision, his fingers trembling as he clutches the note. It’s like a knife twisting in his chest, the blade digging deeper with each word, carving into his mind, into his heart.

No, it can't be, no, you can't be gone, no.

“No…” he mutters, his voice strangled. “No, no, no…”

He feels his stomach drop, the words blurring as his heart races, his chest burning with every shaky breath. Rage, heartbreak, a helpless desperation—it all crashes down on him, layer by suffocating layer, the letter slipping from his hands as he chokes out

"NO! NO! NO!"

His roar echoes through the room, rattling through his entire body, as if he’s trying to break open some hidden door to whatever darkness holds you now. The weight of loss is unbearable. You are gone—or so he thinks.

Then, in the stillness, his eyes catch something else. A second note, hastily pinned to the wall. The writing is hurried, yet taunting, every stroke sharp, every word a threat.

If you want her body, come to this address. P.S. Negan xoxo.

Joel’s fists tighten, rage flooding through his veins, cold and unyielding. He knows it’s a trap, knows Negan is luring him in like a lamb to slaughter.

But he doesn’t care. Because if there’s a chance—even the smallest, faintest chance—you’re alive, he will take it. He will hunt Negan to the ends of the earth.

His pulse pounds in his ears, driven not by fear, but by a brutal, vengeful need that has now taken the place of hope.

In his mind, he sees flashes of all he’s lost, the faces of everyone he’s ever failed. This time, he won’t let go. He can’t.

This isn’t just about vengeance; it’s survival—the survival of what little humanity he has left, and you, the last spark of it he’ll ever know. And if that spark is gone?

Then he’ll burn the world with Negan’s ashes.

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itberice · 2 years ago

Note

Sometimes I wonder if people actually get what kind of character Din Djarin is. He's not a Skywalker, Rey, or Leia. He's mostly a character concerned about his personal survival. He will confront injustice when he encounters it - but he's not like Leia actively trying eradicate galaxy-wide. People complain about Bo-Katan stealing the show, but Din is the one guiding her and she's guiding him. Retaking Mandalore is when Din is interested in something beyond his own needs / wants

What Din Djarin actually wants:

The rest is inconvenience.

#The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian spoilers #Din Djarin #Grogu #anon

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ribb0ngirl · 8 months ago

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𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔!!

hi you can call me Ale and this is my digital diary where I post my thoughts and literally everything else ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ I also take vision board and mood board requests! write them in my ask box!

♡ 7teen, she/her, Spanish and Colombian, currently living in bcn

♡ I post mainly about girl problems, school, drama, etc.

♡ I love: Brandy Melville, Victoria’s Secret, coffee, matcha, baking, reading, drawing, Lana del Rey, Sofia Coppola, internet drama, gossip, sanrio, coquette aesthetic, Spotify, Pinterest

♡ my pinterest

𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑠! 𝑑𝑚 𝑚𝑒! ₊˚⊹♡

DNI if: you are racist, homophobic, sexist, etc., you are a grown adult, or/and you are a creep

TW: I’m recovering from an ed and sometimes I will talk/vent about it

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠

♡ my vision board ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

♡ she's in her smart girl era ⊹˚. ౨ৎ

♡ she practices selfcare ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

♡ Her skin is always perfect ‎♡‧₊˚

𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑠

♡ sad girl 𐙚

♡ Forever a mocha girl ⊹୨୧₊

♡ written and directed by Sofia Coppola ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

♡ she's who I aspire to be ₊˚ʚ ᗢ

♡ dear mom and dad, I hope you know I am trying ໒꒱°·๐

♡ She listens to Fiona Apple ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

♡ You're losing me to a live of my own . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

♡ She has a pinterest addiction ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

♡ beauty and brains ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

♡ can't wait for pretty girl summer ⋆˚✿˖°

♡ The pink office siren .𖥔 ݁ ˖

♡ farmer's daughter ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆

♡ Mom was right, it's my fault 𖦹

♡ balletcore 🩰 ‧₊˚ ♡ ‧₊ ୨ৎ

𝑚𝑦 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠

♡ my fave youtubers !! ₊ ⊹ ♡

♡ my fave wellness by her posts ⊹ ࣪ ˖𝜗𝜚

♡ my fave movies ⊹ ࣪ ˖

♡ my fave clothing stores -`♡´-

♡ fawns ɞ˚‧｡♡

♡ my fave playlists 🎧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠/𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠

♡ my reset routine ᧔♡᧓

♡ her mindset ♡‧₊˚

♡ my weight loss guide ʚɞ ⁺˖

♡ my guide on surviving a toxic family ౨ৎ

♡ my guide on studying for finals ༺♡︎༻

♡ manifesting perfect grades ୨୧˚. ᵎᵎ

♡ achieving the girlblog vibe/aura 𐙚𓂃࣪˖

♡ my guide on achieving the "doe who turned into a teen girl" vibe ₊˚⊹ ᰔ.˚

♡ my guide on getting it together this summer and finding your self worth 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

#girlblogging #girl interrupted #hell is a teenage girl #this is what makes us girls #this is a girlblog #girlblog aesthetic #girl blogger #girlblogger #lana del rey #lana is god #priscilla presley #coquette #dollette #coquette dollete #dollette aesthetic #coquette angel

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airbendertendou · 1 year ago

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WANNA SEE YOU SHINE! ♥︎ suzaki ryo

synopsis : purge au , ryo isn't quite how you remember him to be. but, he's always kind to you. this was highly inspired by @seijorhi 's tokyo revengers piece!

content warning : a purge au so this is a darker one , murder , gore , gross comments , unwanted gestures / comments , reader is in horrible company , Peach is a made-up character , inevitable death [not related to the reader] , kinda yandere-ish ,

song inspo ; stargirl interlude by the weeknd ft lana del rey

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. Keep reading

Sweat drips down your forehead as you reshelve the food you’d been asked to. Taking a deep breath, you peek at the clock — only three more hours until closing. You closed early today, of course.

When the clock struck seven today, the world would no longer be safe.

The door opens with a ding, causing you to stop what you were doing and welcome the customer in. It was a group, all casually chatting while looking for snacks. You stand straight and prepare to greet them — your voice catches in your throat. Something about the last person seems so familiar ; so welcoming to you.

A girl with orange hair spots you and turns your way. “You work here, right?” You nod, peeling your eyes away from the red coat and shoulder length hair. She grins, “great! Can you guide me to the chocolate aisle?”

At her words, the rest of the group turns to face you. You lead the way, showing her your preferred sweets and answering questions with a practiced smile. The group disperses, leaving to do their own thing. That comforting, familiar face is standing in front of you now, waiting for your attention to be solely on him.

“Suzaki,” you say. “Suzaki Ryo. You’re back.”

His dull, unchanging face contorts into a soft smile at your words. Eyes travel down your tired, overworked form — you adjust and clear your throat in embarrassment. His smile falls, “are you alright, [name]?”

Words leave your mind at the sound of his voice. It’d been so long — so many years had passed since you last heard his voice. He calls your name once more, eyes drooping into a worried gaze. You shift on your feet, “um, I’m okay. Everyone’s preparing for tonight, you know?”

“Tonight?” Ryo tilts his head before nodding slowly. “The Purge they call it, right?” You nod, fingers intertwining and locking your mind onto something else. He smiles at your habit, remembering the times before when you’d act that way, too. “You’ll be safe tonight, won’t you?”

“I’ll be with Peach,” you admit. Your nose crinkles in distaste before you smooth your face out, plastering on your customer service smile instead. “I think we’re staying with Amagi this year. You still talk, right? You’ll be there?”

Ryo’s eyes narrow at the names. Peach — your old friend who would always take advantage of you. Amagi — his old friend who used him tirelessly. They were quite the match ; Suzaki’s beyond surprised it took them this long to get together. “Sure,” he hides his thoughts with a smile, “I’ll be there.”

Your conversation is interrupted by his group as they push their way between you. One guy with blue highlights shoves you to the side thoughtlessly — you don’t see the glare Ryo sends his way. Clearing your throat again, you lead them to the register to check them out.

Ryo lingers outside as his friends leave, his eyes watching as you get back to work quickly. Calloused, blistered hands scrub at the counter endlessly before you’re quickly sweeping the floor. You go to clean the window when you meet his gaze — Ryo only waves before turning to leave.

Poor thing, he thinks to himself. You’re working yourself to the bone just to survive. Not anymore, he reassures himself. You won’t have to tire yourself out anymore. I’ll take care of you.

——♥︎——

Shoveling pieces of clothing into your overnight bag, you think back to earlier, when Ryo walked into the convenience store. Seeing him again was strange ; exciting and overwhelming at the same time. Last you heard, Ryo and his dad moved overseas for better opportunities.

That wasn’t true. His father worked himself to death, so Ryo ran. It was no coincidence he popped back up on Purge day.

You knew Amagi and Peach would have all anyone would need in their mansion. However, the thought of using their things and therefore owing them— it made you nauseous.

Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare yourself. You’d be surrounded by rich, entitled assholes for twelve ongoing hours while trusting their security system would keep you safe. At one point, they would irritate you so bad that you’d want to take your chance with the streets.

Suzaki will be there, you remind yourself. If Suzaki is there, I won’t be alone.

——♥︎——

The Amagi mansion greets you, hiding in the woods just out of reach of the street. Cars are empty from the road, hidden in garages and who knows where else for the upcoming night. It’s almost seven, so you need to rush ; need to hurry inside before the door is locked for good. Peach’s laughter echoes onto the street — you grimace and force yourself to step inside.

“COMMENCING THE SIREN, ANY AND ALL CRIME, INCLUDING MURDER, WILL BE LEGAL FOR TWELVE CONTINUOUS HOURS.”

Sirens hit the empty street, the world pausing as people prepare for the worst. You swallow, ignoring the champagne that was offered to you. Even with laws intact, you’d refuse any drink coming from this group.

“How dull,” a voice interrupts the silence. Amagi leans forward on his lavish sofa, watching the wall of monitors he had installed. “No one’s screaming yet. Did they not hear the announcement?”

Another reason you didn’t want to stay here — the Purge was used for their own amusement. While the group you were in would never dare to participate — they wouldn’t survive — watching others slaughter each other was their monthly entertainment.

Peach sighs, “the hour just started, honey. It might take a while.” She rubs his shoulder, leaning her lips close to her ear to whisper to him. You can see her tongue peak out and lap against his ear — you hold back the urge to gag and look away in disgust.

Ryo is absent from the house — he’s not coming, you discover. He hadn’t shown up at all ; no one mentioned him coming by. It makes you uncomfortable ; makes your throat itch at the thought of them possibly leaving him on the streets to die.

You glance at Amagi’s sleazy grin as Peach rubs the inside of his thigh. “I saw Suzaki today. Did you know he was back?”

“That loser really came back?” Amagi all but shoves Peach away, murky eyes staring into yours. A snarl curls his lips as they tremble — with laughter or anger, you don’t know. “Pathetic. Thought he’d die off by now.”

You always wondered what happened between them. Up until high school, Ryo would follow Amagi endlessly. And then, one day, he was gone. Amagi would only spit out how much he hated the boy ; how he wished a miserable and lifeless future for his former friend. He never told Peach — even with the endless nights between them both.

Back then, Ryo came to say goodbye to you. He looked exhausted, bags puffed under his eyes and his nails chewed down to the cuticle. A gash was wrapped around his wrist — you cleaned it as his puppy eyes stared at you.

“You’re leaving.”

“I need to,” Ryo says. His voice is soft ; throaty as if he’d been screaming for hours. He closes his hand into a fist, flexing and moving his fingers to see how injured his wrist was. His gaze meets yours, “I’ll be back.”

One of Peach’s friends offers you a drink, bringing you back to reality again. You take it, just so they would stop shoving it your way. You wouldn’t take even a tiny sip, instead pouring small amounts into someone else’s glass.

Amagi’s gaze is still on you — you can feel his eyes burning into your skin as Peach tries to distract him. You watch a monitor mindlessly, sweeping across the silent and desolate street. Sighing, you tuck your chin into the palm of your hand.

You’d love to do anything else ; to be anywhere else.

“You look tense, [name].” Amagi speaks up. His tone is intense, cruel intentions crawling from darkened eyes. He grins, ignoring the kisses that Peach settles on his neck. “Want someone to help you relax? You can have more than one, if you want.”

At his words, his friends cheer joyfully. One starts thrusting into the air, hooting with laughter. Another winks your way as she lowers her shirt to further show her cleavage. Your arm is tugged harshly to the right, your back hitting the couch as the back of your shirt is grabbed. Peach watches on boredly — your friend wouldn’t dare speak up against her fiance.

It wouldn’t matter if you said no. Especially not tonight, but not any other night, either.

Movement on a top monitor catches your attention. A figure is stumbling, almost to a crawl as they enter the street. You squint, moving from the unwanted touches and closer to the screen. Your mouth falls into a gasp, “Ryo?”

The red jacket on his shoulders is bright in the streetlights, beckoning any attacker to come closer. He leaves a trail of darkened splotches behind on the concrete, a puddle forming where he collapses. Amagi sits up at the name, inching closer to the screen. Pressing a button or two, he maximizes the video Ryo stars in. A malicious, evil grin spreads onto his face.

“Finally,” Amagi laughs, “he’ll die like the dog he is. In the streets, covered in his own shit.”

You gulp at his words. Amagi wasn’t going to offer refuge ; he wasn’t going to allow Ryo into his home and keep him safe. Your gaze bounces to Peach — she’s dropped to her knees in front of him, begging for his attention. He just watches the screen giddily.

The people around you wouldn’t help, either. They wouldn’t dare to go against Amagi’s orders — not for a flea like Suzaki Ryo. Not for his childhood friend that left. Someone is still vying for your affections, the type Amagi offered for you, as they rub themselves on you.

You take in a deep breath, focusing on the screen where Ryo lays on the street. The room goes silent, your ears ringing as you watch him writhe in pain. Everything vanishes — you could do something. You could save him. He promised to come back, and he did.

Sound comes back in a rush, laughter and moans heating up the room around you.

Quickly, you stand and leave the couch — you leave the room and hear no complaints for your actions. Your shoes are taken off and placed to the side — your footsteps would be silent, and no one would be able to find you now. Hastened steps patter their way to the front door ; up from the safe room in the basement, past Amagi’s self portrait, to the right of the kitchen. Shaky hands unlock the front door as fast as they can.

Cold air whips into your face. You breathe in the freshness of it ; you bask in the sound of crickets and the absence of sound. You look around warily — there’s no one around except a whimpering, wounded Suzaki Ryo.

“Come on,” you call to him quietly. You sling his arm around your shoulder and assist him to hobble into the house. Right on the threshold, you can see Amagi snarling as he rushes the door to close and lock. To no avail — you pull Ryo in with you just in time. You set him against a wall, right under the window. “Made it.”

“What the fuck,” Peach hisses. She stands in front of her friends — the richer ones, the ones she deemed valuable — shielding them from the man you brought in. “Do you realize what you just did? Why did you bring in a flea?”

“It’s Suzaki,” you breathe, “we know him.”

Amagi stands over his former friend, staring down at him emotionlessly. His face is devoid of anything — even the usual hatred he doesn’t hide. He tilts his head, “what a pity. Would’ve been nice to watch someone slit his throat.”

They all leave without another word, sending glares your way. The basement’s safe room is locked ; they make it known that you’ve been locked out and uninvited.

Suzaki wheezes out from the floor, “sorry. Didn’t mean to mess things up for you.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” You crouch to help him stand, guiding to one of the bathrooms in the house. Settling him on the closed toilet lid carefully, you take in a breath. “Let’s get you cleaned up and brand new, hm?”

Delicately, you take Ryo’s shirt off ; pull his tanktop up and over his head, careful to not disturb the gash across his torso. He stares at you, eyes sparkling and wide as you grab peroxide and antibacterial gel.

“It’s not too deep,” you speak up. You can hear the group below, their insults and joy vibrating against the walls. “No stitches needed. Good thing — I can’t sew.”

A smile lifts up the right side of Ryo’s mouth. You clean his wound gently, a soaked cotton ball swiping any germ or blobs of blood away. As you apply the gel, your tongue pokes out slightly. Ryo watches you fondly, “this reminds me of when we were in school.”

You smirk, “what, when I’d save your ass a trip to the hospital?”

He laughs — you try not to watch his chest as he does. Grabbing gauze, you wrap it around his torso a few times ; not too tight, but not too loose. Ryo’s eyes stay on you as you move. “You would always take care of me. Even when your friends were worse than mine.”

“We’d look out for each other.” You correct him. You shuffle his tank top back down his body, sitting in silence as you avoid his gaze. “That’s what people like us do.”

Ryo slumps in his seat, his voice growing quiet. “People like us?”

You smile, but it isn’t warm or happy. It’s accepting — sad and empty. “People who have to work to survive.”

A rattle shakes the house — you and Ryo simply stare at each other before you make a move. Peach is coming up the stairs as you exit the bathroom, your face mirroring the confusion on hers. Another rattle — the front door is shaking.

“Yoo-hoo!” A voice sings teasingly. Ryo makes his way to you, his jacket slung precariously over his shoulders as he holds his torso with his right arm. Amagi is spitting orders in the basement — he sounds terrified. “We know you’re in there. Come out and play.”

Silence. And then, a bang against the front door as a new voice calls out. “Come outside, rich bitch!”

Tensely, you reach behind you and grab Suzaki’s hand. Stomping is heard on the stairs as Amagi guides his friends to the front door. His eyes are on fire as you pass by him, red-tinted and furious. He glares at the man behind you, “this better not have anything to do with you.”

You let out a breath as you push Ryo to the safe room, eyes dancing from screen to screen. A face pops out of nowhere — one covered in a Ghostface mask. You jump, bumping into Ryo as you do. You look at him from over your shoulder, “they didn’t attack you, did they?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I wasn’t attacked by anyone. I was… trying to get between an unfair fight.”

You smile despite the situation. “Playing the hero as always.”

“People need to be protected,” he replies simply. Ryo walks over to the wall of monitors, clicking and scrolling expertly. Though, growing up with Amagi probably taught him everything he needed to know. More people are found around the Amagi mansion, waiting for a door to unlock. Ryo’s voice carries into the air, “people like you.”

You blink, “like me?”

Ryo’s mouth tilts as he looks down at the monitors’ control center. He lets out a laugh through his nose before his eyes meet yours. “People who are soft ; kind.” Ryo looks down again, “you’re the one I want to protect the most. You were always my favorite, you know.”

A bang hits the house once more, Peach’s scream echoing with it. You can hear one of her friends insist they just go outside and start shooting — they should just get rid of the strangers while they can. A flurry of footsteps rebounds against the stairs, hurriedly burrowing your way. Ryo takes you into his arms quickly, moving you both out of the way.

“I’ll show them,” he mutters. It’s one of Amagi’s friends — one who tried to get you alone. His eyes are frantic, spit piling at the corner of his mouth as he speaks to himself. “I’ll go out there and tear them all down. Amagi will notice me, then.”

The house’s defenses are down before you can stop him.

Amagi flies down the stairs, trying frantically to get the security systems back up. He clicks every button he sees. The house goes silent as the walls whir, the defenses going back into place. It has to be enough, you bite your lip, hand intertwined with Ryo’s as you tighten your hold. Please, let us be safe.

A window upstairs shatters, high-pitched screaming mirroring the sound.

The sound of scraping is the first thing you pick up. The safe room’s door is closed and locked tight, ensuring your safety. You don’t feel safe, though. Everyone watches in silence as the door’s handle twists left then right. You gulp, hiding the shaking of your hand by holding tighter onto Suzaki’s.

A bang hits the door, causing everyone to jump in unison. A harrowing, mean cackle breaths against the door. “I know you’re in there,” they call, “let us in so we can play.”

“Fuck off!” Amagi’s friend calls out arrogantly. Amagi rushes to the man, holding his hand against his mouth tightly. There are tears in the bully’s eyes — he has no chance if the safe room is breached. His friend fights him until he’s free to speak, “we’ll kill you be—!”

A body falls to the floor. A girl with lilac hair trembles, champagne falling down her arm as the bottle she holds is in half. The man on the floor bleeds from his head — you don’t think he’ll make it. She drops the half-empty bottle, scurrying to wipe the alcohol off of her person.

The masked person outside cackles again, “attacking each other now? Let us join in, won’t you?”

Ryo’s thumb rubs against your knuckles and it’s all you can think of. He does well ; distracting you from the dire danger in front of you. But, you can’t help but also think he’s so calm ; so collected and uncaring at the threats that surround you.

Scratching is heard, the door jolting from the impact. The person outside cackles, drops of sweat fall from Amagi’s forehead. A thump against the door again — you think it’s coming off its hinges. Ryo’s shoulder bumps into yours as you back up, the sound of the door breaking disturbing the silence around you. The splintered pieces hit the floor, collecting around two pairs of boots.

A bloody, rabbit mask and orange hair greets you — another one a Jason-inspired mask doing little to hide blue hair. The rabbit giggles, swinging the axe in hand, “you’ll play with us now, right?”

Two more figures join them but your mind is so fogged from the panic. Ryo is speaking lowly in your ear, but you can’t make sense of anything he says. The girl from before is thrown to the floor, a doll-like mask hovering above her as she’s stabbed. The Jason mask creeps closer to you — he’s got you in his sights and he’s completely locked in.

A kick his sent to the masked man’s chest, sending him flying away as Ryo stands in front of you. He grabs a cheese knife from the center table, putting it in your hand. Your back is to the wall, allowing you to see every inch of the safe room.

Blood splatters as Ryo nails punch after punch onto the blue haired stranger. It’s a sickening, intense anger you’d never seen from him before. Your hands shake as you hold tightly onto the cheese knife, unable to look away from the violence in front of you. Ryo looks over his shoulder at you, blood on his forehead and nose as he stands.

The wound on his torso seems to no longer bother him.

Ryo is quick to pull you to a room, closing the door behind you both as you hold your breath. It’s a bathroom, you see, perfectly compact and hidden. Chaos reigns outside — you flinch as you identify Peach’s cries. A shaky hand cups your cheek, blood smearing as he rubs your skin soothingly. “Stay here,” Ryo pleads,”I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”

He strokes your cheek one last time before a glass is shoved in your hand. “Sip on this until I come back.” Ryo holds your hand, gaze fierce and promising, “I will come back, [name]. Stay in here.”

The door is shut and you’re left with the muffled sound of the people you were with being murdered. The handle of the knife you hold is embedded into your skin, the intricate design imprinted onto your palm. Heaving breaths escaped your chest and you know you need to calm down or you’ll pass out.

You eye the water you’re holding, champagne taste staining the flute you sip on. Panic has really set in now, the room around you blurring together into nothing but colors. Trembling legs settle onto the floor, your back to the bathtub as your eyes slide shut.

——♥︎——

“[Name],” is called lightly, a rustle on your shoulder shaking you. “C’mon, angel, it’s time to go.”

Your eyes blink open — they’re heavy, bleary as your eyesight still has to settle. You breathe deeply through your nose — it smells like iron and sweat. An alarm rings, commencing the Purge and thanking everyone for participating.

Your eyes snap back open at the words. You weren’t safe ; the security was fought through and intruders welcomed themselves in. Ryo — Ryo went out to fight. And then, nothing. You fell asleep?

The floor beneath you is wet, your fingers pruning up from the water. Another gentle jostle to your shoulder — someone was here with you. Widened, unseeing eyes blink up at him and he coos.

“[Name],” Ryo calls again. He rubs your cheek lovingly as your eyes flutter shut once more. He sighs — it was too much on your body, after all. Slowly, he wraps your legs around his waist, standing easily and taking you with him as he goes. “Keep your eyes closed, honey. You don’t need to see this.”

Suzaki speaks to someone else as your eyes flutter open and closed periodically. You can’t stay awake — what was in that water? Your mouth moves against his neck, incomprehensible mutters and noises leaving your lips. You hear him kick something on the way out and spit out something you don’t hear.

As you leave, you notice the bloody mess is wearing Amagi’s clothes.

“Welcome back.”

You feel better now ; awake and attentive as your eyes slide open. The sun is in the middle of the sky, warming up the room you’re in. Suzaki sits on the edge of the bed you’re in, clean and grinning as he rubs your legs soothingly. “About time you woke up, huh?”

The last few hours come back to you in a movie-like sequence. The screaming, the door shattering, the blood. You gulp, “what… happened? At Amagi’s?”

Ryo let’s out a sigh, shaking his head. He squeezes your knee lightly, sucking in a breath between his teeth. “It was ugly — an all out brawl. But, we survived and you came out unscathed. That’s all we need to worry about.”

But, your mind stills races. You remember seeing Amagi — seeing what should’ve been his fully intact corpse in pieces. “Peach? And Amagi? Did… anyone else live?”

“I don’t know,” he looks to the bedroom wall. His voice is uncaring ; unsympathetic as he speaks. “All I was worried about was protecting you.”

“You did.” You sit up straighter now, reaching out to hold Ryo’s hand. “You saved us — saved me.”

The room goes silent as you bask in the warmth of the sun. It’s disorienting — the world being so warm after the bloodbath of last night. Ryo speaks quietly, “I’d do it again if I needed to.”

The side of his mouth curves up as he continues, “maybe even after that.”

——♥︎——

happy halloween!! this feels a lil icky to post considering the state of the world rn, but id like to offer a distraction if i can while still using the platform i have <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any HiGH&LOW content, let me know!

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 H&L TAGLIST : @rouzuchan @yuken-gf @strxwberrychocolate @simpforchuchu @thatpoindexterpixy @cheshirecatuniverse

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#ryo suzaki #suzaki ryo x reader #Suzaki ryo imagine #suzaki ryo au #suzaki ryo oneshot #yandere!suzaki ryo #yandere!high&low #high&low the worst x #high&low the worst cross #high&low x reader #HiGH&LOW suzaki #high&low imagines #HiGH&LOW au #HiGH&LOW oneshot #HiGH&LOW the cross x reader #senomon #high and low #high and low x reader #high and low suzaki

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portraitoftheoddity · 10 months ago

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Beginner Hiking Guide: Gear - What to Bring Hiking

What you want to bring with you on a hike will vary depending on what kind of hike you’re doing. If you’re going on a very short (under an hour) and easy hike on highly-trafficked and easily accessed trails for instance, you may not need to bring much at all -- though I always recommend a water bottle, sun protection and a hoodie or something. But if you’re doing a longer trek on backcountry trails out in the wilderness, you’ll want to bring quite a bit more with you, because the stakes are higher if things go wrong.

My general rule of thumb is: Pack for the Worst Case Scenario.

What is the worst that could happen if you get lost or injured? How long would it take for someone to find you if your phone died and you couldn’t call for help? If you get stuck out overnight, how cold is it going to get, and will you be able to survive it? How about if you have to wait several hours for a rescue party to carry you out if you can’t walk?

I carry a bunch of emergency items in my pack that, on an ideal hike, I never need. But if things don’t go ideally, given the places and conditions I hike in, they could save my life. In the list below, I’ve put an asterisk next to items I recommend packing even for short day hikes (2 hours or less)

So let’s start with the most important thing:

You Need a Backpack.

If you’re going to carry supplies, you need something to carry them in, and a backpack is the easiest, most comfortable way to do so that won’t compromise your balance or leave you unable to use your hands on a hike. (On short outings, fannypacks are great, but you’ll want a backpack if you’re going out into backcountry).

DON'T: use a drawstring backpack -- this will dig painfully into your shoulders pretty quickly.

DO: use a backpack with a waist/hip strap (and chest strap if possible). Having more of your pack’s weight on your hips than on your shoulders will cut down on back pain! The more adjustable, the better; you want to be comfortable.

There are really great hiking specific backpacks out there, but they are on the pricey side. It’s something where, if you plan on doing hiking more regularly, I would recommend investing in a good pack, but for your first time your old book bag will probably do okay.

The Ten Essentials

If you do any research on backcountry hiking, you will probably see “the ten essentials” mentioned somewhere. These are the things that you’re recommended to always bring on a hike with you if you’re going out into the wilderness. The list can seem a little daunting, but honestly a lot of the things on it are pretty small and easy to acquire.

1) Navigation / Map & Compass* -- Have a paper map in a ziploc bag and a compass in addition to any digital tools and GPS you may be using to navigate. Technology fails, and having a map that you’ve familiarized yourself with before you set out will help you to stay on your route and avoid getting lost. REI has useful articles on how to use a compass and how to read a topographic map.

2) Nutrition / Extra Food -- I always bring food hiking. You burn through a lot of energy while hiking, and snacking will help boost your energy levels and keep you moving. Calorie-dense foods with sugar and protein like trail mix, nuts, and granola bars give you the biggest boost while not taking up too much room in your pack. And if your hike runs over, you’ll be grateful for the extra rations.

3) Hydration / Extra Water* -- I typically bring a full liter of water (or gatorade!), minimum when I hike. Nalgene bottles are great because they’re lightweight and virtually indestructible. You’re going to be losing a lot of moisture through sweat and through the vapor your exhale while breathing heavily, so you are going to need to hydrate. Bring more than you think you’re going to need in case things go badly.

4) Insulation / Extra Layers* -- I talked about this in the post about clothes, but always have an extra layer. If the weather shifts, or you get injured and can’t move to keep warm, or you get lost and need to wait for a rescue, the last thing you need is for hypothermia to come along and make your day worse.

5) Illumination / Light -- There’s always a chance of something going wrong, be it a twisted ankle or just misjudging the length of a hike, that can lead to you being out for longer than you anticipated -- and if you’re stuck out in the wilderness when the sun goes down, you want to be able to see where the hell you’re going to find the trail and get home. On any longer hike (especially if you’re starting later in the day), bring a headlamp or flashlight with extra batteries (and test it before you leave!)

6) Emergency Shelter -- Is there any chance that on the hike you’re doing, you could potentially get lost enough that you have to spend hours and hours out here? In the theme of extra layers, if you get lost, injured, or otherwise caught out in bad conditions and can’t hike out on your own for any reason and rescue won’t be there anytime soon (search and rescue teams take time to assemble, deploy and then hike out to you), you want to have some means of shelter. Obviously, you don’t wanna drag an entire tent out into the woods if you’re just going on a day hike, but a there’s a few lightweight options that can make a difference when you’re improvising protection from the elements, such as:

A mylar space blanket / shock blanket

A bivvy sack (basically a lightweight plastic sleeping bag that keeps warmth in and water out!)

....And if you’re on a budget, a large plastic trash bag can do in a pinch!

7) Firestarter -- On the topic of shelter, especially if you’re stuck out in the cold overnight, a fire can be an emergency source of heat and light. Since most of us are not capable of starting a fire just by rubbing two sticks together like in the movies, we’ll want to make it easier on ourselves by bringing something to start a fire with: pack something to ignite it with, and something to use as tinder to catch the flame and sustain it long enough to ignite other fuel you’ve gathered. I personally carry a bic lighter that was like, .99c at the gas station, and a toilet paper tube stuffed with dryer lint for tinder. This is one of those “hopefully you never actually have to use it” things.

8) First Aid Kit* -- You want to be able to treat an injury if it happens, and to address smaller health concerns before they become bigger health concerns. With blisters especially, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure -- putting blister pads on your feet when you’ve got hot spots before they turn into full on oozing blisters is going to make a world of difference. And as someone who has taken a nasty spill on the trail and hiked out injured, I always carry a solid first aid kit with me. You can buy a compact pre-made kit easily enough to carry with you, but you may find yourself customizing it to your needs. I recommend having the following:

Ibuprofen -- good for managing pain, swelling, and soreness

Tylenol/Acetaminophen -- pain reliever, fever reducer, better for head injuries than ibuprofen since it doesn’t thin blood (also, if you’ve hurt yourself and you’re in a LOT of pain, you can alternate Tylenol and Ibuprofen)

Benadryl or some other antihistamine for allergies

AfterBite -- good for stings and bug bites

Bandaids in assorted sizes

Blister pads

Disinfectant wipes x 2

Gauze

A triangular bandage

A lightweight SAM splint

Ace bandage - good for wrapping sprains

Tweezers - good for removing splinters!

Any important medications you personally need, such as an EpiPen or inhaler, or personal joint braces you require

9) Sun Protection* -- Even if you’re hiking under tree cover, or on a cloudy day, with hours spent outdoors, you’re getting a lot of UV exposure. Regardless of whether you’re someone who sunburns easily or not, it’s good to have sun protection. Bring sunglasses and sunscreen, and consider wearing a hat. Especially at higher elevations, where the air gets thinner and blocks less UV radiation! And don’t forget when hiking in winter, that you can get snowblindness and sunburn from light reflected off snow.

10) Repair Kit + Knife / All That McGuyver Shit -- A few lightweight and simple objects can make it much easier to jury-rig a shelter, replace a snapped bootlace, or hold together a torn pack until you can get back to the parking lot. I personally always have:

A pocket knife/multitool

Flat-wrapped duct tape

Several safety pins

A handful of zip ties

A spare shoelace

And other people may find other items useful depending on their gear and the kind of repairs they might need.

In addition to the stuff on this list, there may be weather-specific or trail-condition specific gear you might need, like microspikes for traction on ice, or rain gear for hiking in wet climates. You can use your best judgment and the recommendations of others who have hiked where you are hiking to figure out what the best packing list is for your specific hike. This list is a guideline and a starting point.

Other things you may want to bring:

Whistle -- if your phone is dead and you’re waiting for rescue, you can blow on a whistle a lot longer (and a lot louder) than you can yell. Three short bursts usually means ‘hiker in distress’ and will help other hikers or searchers find you.

Toilet Paper + plastic bag -- If you don’t think you’re going to be able to hold it, bring a means to go in the woods. But bring the plastic bag to carry out your used toilet paper so it doesn’t pollute nature (Leave No Trace!)

A ziploc bag big enough for your phone -- if you need to cross a river or if it starts pouring, have a means to bag your phone to keep it dry. If there’s a risk of rain, bring a trash bag as well that you can use as an improvised pack cover to keep your stuff dry.

Insect Repellant -- even if you don’t bring it with you and just put it on in the parking lot, if you’re hiking in spring or summer especially, you’ll want some bug spray.

Keeping It Light

You want to pack smart, which means maximizing the usefulness of what you pack while keeping things as light as possible. Try using a lightweight plastic water bottle instead of a heavy steel one, and packing spare layers that are warm without being too bulky. Put sunblock in a small tube or bottle instead of packing the huge family-size one. The weight adds up, and the final weight of your pack is what you’re going to have to be carrying along with you. Though the good news is, your pack will get lighter as you consume the food and water you’ve packed!

If you are hiking with friends in a group, there’s some things you don’t really need multiple redundancies for -- if one person has a well-stocked first aid kit and another person carries enough sunblock for the group, you don’t need three of each and every item. Communicate with your group to make sure all your bases are covered, but also be sure you stay close together while hiking. Your friend having the group’s utility knife isn’t going to help you if you go off on your own and get separated. And you will all still want your own food, water, clothing, and light.

Organize Your Bag

Having the right gear is helpful. Knowing where it is is even better!

I try to organize my pack so the weight is evenly distributed (with the heaviest objects at the center near my spine to avoid throwing off my center of gravity), but also so I can find stuff easily enough. If your backpack has different pockets and compartments, think about using those to organize your supplies. Put stuff you’re more likely to need to use in easy to reach places. I usually keep my water bottle in a side pocket that I can reach from the outside of my bag, and my snacks in the topmost compartment so they’re easy to get to and not squished.

I also have a couple of lightweight smaller bags inside my pack I organize things in -- a mesh bag I keep all my first aid supplies in so I can pull out the splint, main kit, extra bandage, AfterBite, etc. all together, and a waterproof stuff sack that I keep all my “emergency” supplies (bivvy sack, shock blanket, headlamp, lighter, knife, etc.) inside so they aren’t all rattling around loose at the bottom of my pack where I will never find them.

Using your knowledge about the hike you’re doing, the duration, the conditions, and your own body and needs will help you make smart choices about what you need to bring in order to keep yourself safe, both during your hike, and in the hypothetical scenario where something goes awry. Be informed, be prepared, and have fun out there!

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#beginner hiking guide #lena hikes #hiking gear #hiking info #ten essentials

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warping-realities · 1 year ago

Text

Dalton Academy - Prideful Son (Final)

"Trip, what kind of deal did you make with the old man? Things are weird here man." - Vincent Carmichael was sitting in the leather armchair of the luxurious apartment that came with the position of Dalton's headmaster. He had just gotten out of the shower and poured himself a generous dose of Scotch. But not even the velvety taste calmed him down because he knew that something very unusual was happening. He had led Dalton for many years and had handled the transition of several boys, many of whom had been powerful sources. None of them, however, had done what Jaime Sanchez had done. He himself had been a source although as always happened after the sealing of the contract little of that previous life had been preserved. Precisely because of this he knew that something was not happening as usual. Nothing in that situation went as expected from the beginning, so Trip Hartfield needed to clarify some things.

"Vince, you need to calm down, what the boy may think he knows is certainly not enough to change his destiny. What happened in that room is between me and my ancestor. Dalton never made a mistake, it won't be now that he starts." - Was the answer coming from the phone speaker.

"He manipulated me Trip, do you have any idea how dangerous it can be for someone who thinks like one of us to not be linked to us but working against us? And there's still the matter of Leonardo Reis, he came here for a contract at the request of Flip Thompson and I had assigned the Bear Club boys to deal with him..."

"I asked Flip to take Reis. He was one of the sources of my group and he agreed to do me this favor."

"What? Why? And why didn't you inform me?"

"Because it's part of the deal I made with the old man. He gave me a list of names of interest. Reis' name was separate from the others, not even Chad knows he was on that list . But he is as important as the others."

"What kind of game is the old man playing, Trip?"

"I don't know Vince, but we need to trust him."

…..

The boy was very good at understanding when something was wrong and that day he had the feeling that something very wrong was about to happen. The winter had been merciless, they had little food and the fight for their territory in that land had been incessant. The warriors are few and the mouths to feed are many. In that situation a seven-year-old blind boy was a burden that few were willing to carry. Of course he didn't understand all of that rationally, but instinctively he knew something was coming. His mother had been tearful all morning and his father, who never paid him much attention had hugged him tightly. Ulf knew they were both heavily criticized for letting him live, but they were in a new land and had lost so many on the journey there that sacrificing the first baby born in that place seemed like a bad omen. And when the boy started to grow it became clear that despite his visual impairment he had something different, a connection with the gods themselves and because of that they let him live. But in that winter morning that connection was the cause of his doom. While he was playing with the puppies that were his main companion the men from the village came and took him away.

The journey took a few minutes and the entire time he felt his father's hand guiding him. At times he seemed to tremble, but Ulf knew that must have been a figment of his imagination. When they finally stopped he heard his father comment.

"So much blood spilled because of this place and now this."

"They are tireless and in much greater numbers than us, Njal, and they know this land like no one else. If we want to survive we will need the help of the gods, otherwise we won't make it to summer."

"I know Gorm and I'm here, aren't I? About to sacrifice what is most precious to me, Thyra hasn't conceived again in all the years since Ulf was born."

"Then ask the father of all that this blessing be granted to you and your wife. But don't try to stop what will happen. He always belonged to the gods and Odin himself came to me in a dream asking for the boy."

"I know, so let's get this over with. Ulf, boy I need you to be brave like a warrior should be. Soon you will meet with the father of the world and I need you to ask him to intercede, to help us give what is necessary to survive on this earth. Until then I need you to lie still." - Said his father, placing him on a hard surface. Where he lay waiting as he was ordered until he felt a searing pain in his chest and felt the life drain away along with the blood coming from the wound.

When the boy thought it was all over he heard a strong and serious voice as one would expect from a king.

"Open your eyes boy."

He opened his eyes and for the first time he actually saw and before him was the father of all, Odin himself smiling at him and he was also blind in one eye. On each of his shoulders was a crow perched.

"Very good Ulf, you behaved like a true warrior. Now your real work begins.

....

The situation at Hartfield Manor could be described as weird if one weren't making a huge understatement. Jaime and Leonardo had woken up and it was up to Mike Jones to deal with it while Chad made desperate phone calls to his father, Carmichael and the other Crows. Sanchez's transformation seemed to confirm that the work was done, but what had happened to Reis put everything in doubt. The fact that they acted as if nothing had happened and had always been that way should put an end to that doubt, but how could they be sure? Until Chad talked to his father and Carmichael they couldn't be sure and Mike knew that as he stared at what should be the final version of Jaime Sanchez, the seal of their contract. And that he spoke to him as if they were friends. He knew that this was how it should be, but then why didn't he feel it?

"... with you and Chad in basketball, Eddie on the mats and if the twins accept to join you will also have two talents in football. I think the Crows have a great chance in the competition between the clubs. And if you accept him, Leo has a great talent in soccer, although his size may not seem like it. In Brazil they called him Hulk, which is also the nickname of a famous player there. I feel useless for not having anything exceptional to contribute. Unless my latino sex appeal counts for something. - Said Jaime smiling.

"Get real Jay. You look like a pimp selling us." - Interrupted Leonardo Reis.

"Well, the Crows value ambition, don't they? And Carmichael himself said we could apply to join."

"The decision of who enters or not is made together Jaime, but the final approval depends on the president." - Still uncomfortable with the situation.

"So I'm going to have to suck up to Chad? Nothing new under the sun for him. By the way, where is he?"

Chad was at that moment sitting on the balcony of the second floor of the family mansion, on a call with his father. The same feeling of uneasy that Mike felt dominated him.

"Dad, with the others it seemed right, we fit in well. Just the way you said it would be. Sanchez however... It's just that he looks and behaves the way he should be, but there's something that bothers me. And there's still the question of Reis.... What do you mean? And why couldn't I have known this before? ... I understand, but it would have saved me a lot of anguish. But what should we do now? .... Yes, maybe when he formally entering the club we will feel as we should. Until then I will do as you say and try to get to know him better and see if we fit in. At the same time I will look for anomalies. I will also talk to Carmichael in person.... Yes, I'll keep you informed. I'm going to hang up now, the other guys are arriving... thank you dad, it's very important for me to know that you're proud of me. - Chad said, finishing the call and observing the four others arrive in Eddie's car. If their integration with the twins was also strange, he would have a problem that he might not know how to solve.

….

They were dead, all of them. His father's children's children had perished and the colony was no more. Over the past few decades Ulf had learned to channel the power of the father of all into those who came to him, boys becoming warriors under their combined power. But what was a source of hope for his people in that land became a source of fear for the natives. The gigantic and brutal warriors born there were feared and hated with such intensity that a union between the different nations was made with the sole objective of eradicating them. Ulf used all the power that he was born with and that he had received through the countless sacrifices made in the name of the father of all through him and it was still insufficient. The losses for the natives were massive, but Ulf's people were completely decimated. They spared only the small children and took them out of his reach.

The God also left, without worshipers he would not survive in that place, but Ulf was trapped there, he was born there, he died there and was reborn there. His destiny was linked to that land and so was he. The father of all left leaving two little crows as company for the companion who had helped him so much. And so Ulf waited, years became decades, decades became centuries and legends about the place spread among the local population. He was already in a state of dormancy when fate smiled at him again. And smiling was what he did.

….

"I propose a little drinking game to see if you have what it takes to take become members. - Eddie said smiling to Leonardo and Jaime.

"So these are the high standards required to join the Crow Club? To be able to drink as much as the old members?" - Jaime replied.

"I wouldn't say just that, but we can discuss some other tests later. Alone." - J.B. replied, eating Jaime with his eyes.

"Be careful Sanchez. Roberts is insatiable.- Commented Jacob Miller. - I have experience and I can confirm."

"If I were you, I wouldn't doubt my boy Jay's capabilities." - Leonardo replied smiling.

"Okay, another thing. We have three Jays around here and this isn't going to work, we need to get organized." - Commented J.B. - I'm J.B. and I was the first to arrive so I'm not going to change."

"I'd really like to know why you have that nickname, Roberts." - Said Leonardo.

"It's a diminutive of Johnny Boy, Eddie started calling him that and we ended up adopting it." - Chad replied next to Mike.

"Well, then if that's a nickname of a nickname maybe he should change it." - Leo replied.

"Fortunately I arrived earlier and have primacy, while Jaime here hasn't even joined the club yet." - J.B. responded with a smirk.

"Hey, I didn't even say anything. Stop picking on J.B. Leo." - Jaime intervened.

"You can call me Jake and that's fine." - Said Jake Miller

"Leonardo is easy, we just call him Leo. Which brings us back to you Jaime. We can't have someone without a nickname between brothers." - J.B. continued, being interrupted again by Leo.

"I didn't say you could call me Leo."

"Dude, stop teasing, that's already your fucking nickname, come on!" Jaime intervened again before addressing J.B. - So, any suggestions?"

"Jaime Sanches... J.S. no, it doesn't sound..."

"That's not his full name. - Chad commented while sipping his bourbon, the arrogant expression back on his face. - Our dear colleague is Jaime Caetano Sanchez."

"So we're talking about a J.C. - said Greg, sitting side by side with Jake"

"Better than J.S. but there's still something missing." - replied J.B.

"J.C. um... how about Jace?" Jake said thoughtfully. "I can already imagine the repercussion of the posts. Jace and Jake. The contrast between the skin tones will draw a lot of attention. Apart from the fact that we're both hot." "

"If that's what you're looking for, Jake, maybe Mike would be a better option. But hey, Jace is a good nickname." - J.B. replied.

"Ah, don't worry, he won't escape, in fact none of you will. You are all an excellent source of followers." - Jake said smiling and making all the Crows look in Jaime's direction at the mention of the word source. But he didn't show any reaction to that.

"Well, if you want me to be Jace, so be it. So how is this game going to work?"

"That's easy, we ask, you answer, everyone drinks." - Eddie replied.

"What's the point of that if everyone's going to drink?" - Leo asked.

"Exactly." - Eddie replied, smiling and filling several glasses of tequila.

….

Ulf watched the two native boys approach his territory. The clearing had shrunk a lot over the years, nothing was left of the old village except some broken utensils long forgotten. It was precisely the boys messing with the rusty trinkets that had once belonged to Ulf's people that woke him up. He approached the edge of his territory and waited for the boys to approach.

"Kitchi, we shouldn't go further, it's dangerous. The elders..."

"I had no idea you were a coward Keme."

"I'm not a coward! Take it back brother!"

"I'll take it back if you accompany me to the clearing and prove me wrong."

"Fine, but if the elders find out we did this..."

"They'll only know if you talk. Let's go"

Ulf followed the interaction between the brothers with interest. They didn't speak his language but that wouldn't be a problem. He waited until the boys were in the middle of his clearing before appearing.

"Hello, I'm Ulf" - He said smiling and scaring the two boys who immediately got into a fighting position.

"Get away from us evil spirit." - Said the one called Keme. While his brother Kitchi relaxed.

"Brother is just a little boy, one of the invaders."

"He's too far from the cities to be one of them."

Invaders? And cities? Had his people returned? If that were the case, the God could have returned with them and Ulf would no longer be alone.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I've been alone for a long time. I just want to talk. Tell me about these invaders."

"Get away. We shouldn't have come here. Let's go Kitchi. - Keme said pulling his brother. Ulf could have stopped them, in that place his power was absolute although it was a pale shadow of what it once was. But he noticed something about that one called Kitchi, there was the same kind of power in him that Ulf himself had possessed before the God. And the boy had felt that connection between them. So Ulf let them go knowing that the one he was interested in would return.

There was no need to wait long. Within a few days, barely a blink of an eye for Ulf, the boy was back.

"What are you?" - He asked from the edge of the clearing.

"Come here and I'll tell you."

"I'm not stupid if I go in there you'll kill me or worse."

"If so, why didn't I do it when I had the chance?"

"I don't know, but I don't trust what you say."

"It's okay to stay where you are, I won't force you to come in. One day you'll choose to come in on your own."

"I will never do that, spirit"

"We'll see" - Ulf replied smiling as if he were the most innocent being in the world.

….

"Sexual orientation?" - J.B. asked, holding the glass of tequila in his hand.

"Straight." - Leo replied.

"Boring as expected, Reis." - Replied J.B.

"Open to experimentation." - Jaime replied with a smile.

"That's what I'm talking about! Drink!" - shouted J.B. happily before chugging the entire shot in his mouth, followed by the rest of the boys. The question game combined with alcohol had helped them all to integrate, there were still fights here and there, but that was expected given the fact that they were not clones of each other and each should have their own personality. Almost all of the Crows seemed to have accepted that Jaime, or rather Jace, was fully integrated and that Leo had come to them as a bonus. But both Mike and Chad, who were in fact the most similar among them, still didn't completely accept that as true.

"Favorite sexual position?" - Greg asked. But before the colleagues could respond, Chad interrupted them.

"Put your glasses away and try to keep a slightly convincing face, gentlemen, we have visitors. Carmichael is coming here."

"Why would the headmaster come to your private home Chad?" - Leonardo asked.

"Because you idiots made such a fuss that the neighbors complained to him."

"You speak as if you haven't done the same."

"I beg your pardon. Chad Hartfield would never do something unworthy like a fuss. - Jaime said in a mocking tone. Making everyone, even Mike, burst out laughing.

"I'm serious, glasses in the kitchen now. - Chad scolded, but without being able to completely hide a smile as he watched with satisfaction that bunch of gigantic grown men carry out his orders, with a feeling that it was too good to be true. And that was precisely the problem, that uneasy feeling didn't go away.

"Either he really is one of us or he is a great manipulator which in a way makes him one of us." Mike commented next to him.

"I asked Carmichael to observe him. He is the alive person with the most experience on the subject. But I agree with you, I saw my father with his group my whole life. Or at least I have memories of it. - Chad corrected himself before saying continue - And the truth is that when they are together it's like watching a machine in action, the gears fitting together perfectly. It seems like one knows what the other is going to say or do before the other has even finished thinking about it. That's the kind of thing I expected here. The morning was amazing and I liked them both, we needed someone to slow down J.B. when necessary and Leo does that perfectly and as for Jaime, I mean Jace, he's the most similar to you and me out of everyone, It's like he's a third part that we're missing, Mike, and we don't even know it. I really want to believe him. But there's still something forced, don't you feel that too? I can't even call him by his nickname without feeling my tongue curl as if I wasn't saying something true.

"I know man, I have the same feeling, I want it to be true I feel like it should be true but at the same time it's not... let's wait for Carmichael and see if he sheds any light."

While the two were having that conversation, two others were talking in the backyard of the house in whispers so that they would not be heard by anyone inside.

"You think they suspect something, man?"

"Despite all the bro talk they are tremendously intelligent Leo, I believe we did a good job and that they should at least be willing to believe in us. And that will have to be enough."

"What a mess you've gotten me into, Sanchez."

"I didn't mean to, Leo. But I won't lie and say I'm not grateful to have an ally."

"So what do we do now?"

"We'll wait until we get back to Dalton. You'll have to find a way to get rid of his bones. I'm sure they're behind that red door in their headquarters."

"And you?"

"I'll take the hardest part. Find a way to get us there."

….

Kitchi was waiting for him at the edge of the clearing, always avoiding putting himself within range of Ulf's power. But it had been a long time since the boy who wasn't a boy decided he wouldn't do anything to the boy. Because he had learned to like the other boy. He was brave and fierce in the way Ulf had been taught by his people and his God to admire. And through him Ulf discovered what was happening in the world outside his clearing. That was how he discovered that the invaders Kitchi had spoken of the day they met were not Ulf's people or if they were they were very changed, they did not have the same gods or the same customs and did not seek the glory of death in battle. Strange as it was, Ulf had learned to respect and like a member of the people who had decimated his own people and made the God leave. Also he hated to think that these new invaders with their strange customs could be what his people across the sea had become.

"What news do you bring from the world beyond brave warrior?" - He asked smiling. But without getting a smile in response.

"I came to say goodbye Ulf. My people go to war against the invaders. They never found out that I came here. I broke traditions for too long and even though I see that they are mistaken about you now I am a man and I don't I can act like a boy anymore. Goodbye, spirit."

"Kitchi wait..." - But the boy didn't listen to him and left while Ulf resigned himself to returning to the helpless existence he had known over the past few centuries as he had known would happen someday, but had hoped it would not be so soon. Kitchi's few occasional visits had been a relief from the centuries of solitude. So much so that when he felt the boy approach his domain after just a few days he felt a sense of relief that in his entire long existence he had not known he would be capable of feeling.

"I thought you wouldn't see me again, great warrior." - He spoke in a mocking tone towards the approaching figure. Only to have another surprise. Kitchi crawled towards him, injured in so many places that he didn't know how the boy had survived. - Boy, come to me, let's go. You can do it, just a little longer. - He said encouraging the boy, who little by little crawled towards him, only to fall to the ground a short distance from his territory. And when everything seemed lost, contact was made when the boy managed to enter into the clearing. And Ulf set to work, using what little power he hadto heal the boy until he could speak again.

"They're dead Ulf, all of them, my father, my brother... there's nothing left, there's no one left."

Ulf felt it as if he were experiencing the death of his own people again. Which was curious since it was the people of Kitchi who had caused that to them, not that the boy had any responsibility for what happened.

"I want…. I need..."

"What?" - Ulf asked, knowing exactly what the request would be.

"Give me. Your blessing. The one you gave to the warriors of your people."

"What good would it do you now, if your people no longer exist?"

"It's good for me to take as many of them as I can, it's good for me to be reunited with my people knowing I did what I could to bring them justice."

"I can do what you ask of me but the source will be you, and you will be different, more like the men of my people than yours. You will become what your ancestors gave their lives for detain. It may be that when your time comes you will not have a place among them."

"I don't care. The men who killed my ancestors are dead, the men who decimated my family are still breathing and I want to be the one to take their last breath."

"I can't deny you that, it's my mission, the reason for my existence. But I'm going to miss who you are."

"Just do it, spirit!"

And Ulf did. Between the screams of pain and despair he felt the boy he knew change before him. Ferocity exacerbated to the limit of cruelty, cleverness becoming malice, a mind modified with a sole purpose of revenge and decimation and a perfect body for that. Gigantic arms ending in hands powerful enough to crush skulls. A massive torso capable of withstanding the most powerful blows and legs strong enough to carry all of that.

It was done and Ulf for the first time since he had been given that fate was unhappy about doing the work assigned to him. The monster in the form of a man that he had created turned his back on him without even saying a word and he did nothing to stop him even though he knew the fate that awaited him, just as he knew his own fate. He was destined to fade into oblivion or continue to create monsters like that. For the first time in all those centuries, oblivion seemed to be the best option.

…

"I can't answer you. Both he and Reis seem quite integrated to me, but the whole situation is atypical. The contract that your father made... well, what's done is done. Who knows, maybe things will work out after the initiation ceremony, with the old members here in Dalton." - Carmichael said to Chad in front of the entrance porch of Hartfield Manor.

"I thought the ceremony was just symbolic, that the act of acceptance and the transformation itself were what validated the contract."

"Usually yes, but as I told you, everything about this particular contract is unusual. You ended up with one more member than expected. Two in fact, if you count the fact that Gregory Miller was a side effect. Extremely unusual . I don't even know how to explain what happened to Reis. And unless Dalton himself does it..."

"So what should I do?"

"Keep an eye on him, on both of them. Maybe they'll reveal themselves if they're pretending or maybe Dalton himself has some more surprises in store for us. Now let's all go back to school and wait." - Director Carmichael concluded as he headed to his car, leaving behind a thoughtful Chad.

...

"Knock, Knock" - J.B. said in a jovial and cheerful voice at the door of Jaime's bedroom.

Jaime himself, upon hearing that, smiled. He had managed to get rid of Greg so he could have the place to himself and his target. Practically naked with his muscular, tanned body on display and a bright smile on his face, he opened the door.

"Jace, you pervert trying to seduce me?" said J.B., admiring him with hungry eyes.

"Please, as if you need convincing to do anything." - Jaime replied with a smile, slowly approaching his colleague's face, until their lips were about to touch.

"Sanchez you are playing with fire."

"I'm not afraid of getting burned." - He replied, grabbing J.B. while giving him an intense kiss and dragging him to the bed.

"Jace you rascal, hiding the game all the time." - J.B. said breathlessly as Jaime took off his shirt.

"And I thought I had left obvious signs in response to your advances." -Jaime replied as he kissed J.B.'s neck and powerful chest.

"We're going to need to talk about what you consider to be obvious."

"I don't think so, I won't be able to answer anything for now." - Jaime said, approaching his colleague's now fully erect member and engulfing it with his mouth.

....

Leonardo was pissed about the whole situation. He had tried to adapt to that place, he had chosen to ignore his more aggressive instincts towards that country, controlling his bad temper and for what? To become a pawn in a damned game of manipulation controlled by the spirit of an old megalomaniac capitalist.

He almost pissed his pants off in that vision. The damned crows seemed to have flown towards his face and after what he saw happen to Dalton's eye he threw himself to the ground like a scared boy.

"Get up Leo, we have little time and I don't know what I'll be like when I wake up, I'll need you to be my anchor and I don't even know how to do that right." - Jaime said while extending his hand to him.

"I don't want any part of this." - He responded without extending his hand back.

"I didn't want to either, but unfortunately we're stuck with this. All of us. Help me find a way to end this once and for all." - And Leo extended his hand.

When he woke up he was completely changed physically and he felt that something had changed in his mind too. But he still knew who he was and what he would have to do.

However, he was amazed at how far Jaime was willing to go to get what he wanted. And now in Dalton's basement, as he looked for a way to get rid of the old man's damned bones, he wondered if his colleague hadn't already gone too far on the path to becoming one of them. That train of thought was interrupted when he found what he was looking for.

"Perfect" - He said, looking at the gallon of kerosene with shining eyes. Without realizing that perhaps he already had walked a few steps along that same path.

....

"Turn your back." - Jaime said to J.B. with a commanding tone after giving him one of the best blow jobs he had ever received. Which made him obey immediately. - So, Johny Boy, I was thinking. What do I need to do for me to be formally accepted into your Club? Greg and Jake were accepted immediately while I'm still pending- Asked as he positioned himself on top of the other.

"I don't know, I thought Chad was going to announce it at Hartfield Manor..."

"I thought I was important.-Jaime said, now holding J.B.'s hair tightly.-That I was special.-He continued with a kiss on his colleague's neck.-Even irreplaceable." - He concludes by placing his swollen cock close to J.B.'s ass but without making any effort to continue.

"Jace...I don't know...ungh."

"Don't you know or don't want to tell me?"

"I don't know if I knew...."

"I believe in you. - Jaime replied, gently penetrating his classmate ass. - But there is something you know and can tell me." -He continued while increase his pace.

"Ungh...no...don't stop. What? What do you want to know?" - J.B. asked amidst waves of pleasure. Causing Jaime to increase his pace even more and open a wide smile.

…

For 150 years Ulf remained silent, ruminating on his own existence, determined to ward off any man who approached him. He knew he couldn't deny it if someone entered his territory and asked for his blessing and even though the probability of that happening was very small after what happened to Kitchi, he took precautions. The forest area around his clearing became surrounded by wild and cruel creatures. And quickly the legends about the cursed place spread among the few remaining natives and also among the invaders. But that introspective calm didn't last as long as last time. One spring morning many men approached his territory and set to work. Just like Ulf himself. Quickly the entire region was filled with wild animals. Crows attacked men while they were working. Wolves howled at night, scaring the pack animals and making them flee, bears invaded the camp and destroyed the food. And yet they continued to work.

An iron will drove that men, an unstoppable force of the kind that Ulf would have admired if it hadn't been bringing those men closer every day to his territory and to the possibility of him being forced to resume the role he wanted to avoid at all costs. And despite everything he did that day came. He watched the men approach his clearing, some armed to the ground shooting at the animals he sent, others cutting down the little brush that still separated his clearing from the new road they had opened and then... Ulf felt his territory. suddenly increase, regaining almost all of its original size. The place where his village had been now housed the beginning of a large construction and beyond that there was already a small village in formation.

He did not introduce himself to those men, resisting with all his might the impulse to do so. He held out until night and then brought hell upon them.

The next day the men left, leaving behind them the unfinished construction, dead animals and some of them buried. Ulf watched this with relief, believing that he could once again return to his state of contemplation.

For weeks it seemed to him that it would be so. Then one night the man arrived.

….

"What the hell are you carrying around there?"

"The solution you asked me for."

"Man, we could burn down the whole school if we use this."

"I don't plan on using it here, dumbass. We go in, take the damn bones, put them in these backpacks I brought and take them to the middle of the woods where we can set them on fire."

"A forest fire isn't much better than a school fire."

"I haven't seen you do anything useful so far."

"Then see." - Jaime replied. He approached the digital panel next to the large door of the Crows headquarters and entered the password as he spoke it out loud.

"0 - one - nineteen - eighteen - 0 - nine. Edgar Allan Poe's birthday, it was kind of obvious if you stopped to think about it. It would only be more obvious if it were Dalton Hartfield's birthday."

"If it was that obvious you wouldn't have needed to suck Roberts' dick."

"Shut up, asshole. We're inside, now we just have to go to the damn red door and..." - Jaime began to say, interrupting himself when looking at a solid wall without a single door.

" Puta merda" - Said Leo when faced with that.

"I don't understand, everything pointed here." - Jaime said, running his hand over the exquisite wallpaper in the hope of feeling a hidden door behind it.

"We're fucked man. Why did you have to drag me into this shit?"

"I didn't ask for this either man. I just wanted this shit to end."

"Good, we can still finish." - Reis replied, lifting the gallon of kerosene.

"Are you crazy, dude? This could turn into a huge mess."

"You said yourself that you want to end it all."

"But not like this. Let it go, no one is going to burn this school down." - Jaime said, making Leo release the gallon.

"Certainly not. - Chad said standing at the door - You almost fooled me Jaime. But your mistake was believing that just because he's a slut J.B. would be stupid. He's a Crow and a Crow is always smart. Which proves you're still not one of us. I knew there was something wrong with you two.”

"Fuck you, you psychopath" - Was Leo's response. While Jaime pondered what to do.Then cursing himself for choosing that path he made a decision.

"You're right. I'm sorry for using him like that although he certainly liked it. But the truth is that Reis came to me thinking I could help him and at the same time I felt like you still didn't trust me Chad. So I came up with a plan to find out what Reis intended to do and at the same time gain your trust."

"You fucking piece of shit. What do you think you're doing? I trusted you!" - Leonardo shouted, lifting the gallon again.

"I already told you to turn that shit down!" - Jaime shouted back and again his colleague obeyed him. Something Chad can't help but notice.

"If what you say is true Jaime, why don't you prove it!"

"Call me Jace, man - Jaime said in an attempt to convey confidence - and what do you want me to do? How am I going to convince you?"

"Nothing you say will make me trust you... Jaime. - Chad replied, highlighting the name. - But you can prove it by making our dear colleague one of us."

"I... I don't know how..." - Jaime began to respond.

"Fuck you, Chad. I'm going to get out of here..." - Leonardo interrupted.

"Tell him to be quiet" - Chad said.

"Leo, shut up and stay still." - Jaime said and to his surprise and that of Leonardo himself, he remained motionless and quiet in the middle of the room."

"As I suspected. Looks like you'll get the chance to prove yourself after all...Jace." - Chad said with a bright smile. And while mentally apologizing, promising to fix it when he could, Jaime turned towards Leonardo and instinctively began to do the work assigned to him."

….

Ulf watched as the man approached and sat on a rock right in the middle of his center of power. The man reminded him of the God. He was old in appearance although he was infinitely younger. But the aura of power and the absolute certainty of deserving that power were the same. Very different from what Ulf himself felt, forever trapped in that contradictory state between a child and a centenarian being. He was already ready to try to scare away that figure when the man spoke.

"I know you're there, I feel you there. I came to talk and come to an understanding." - And then Ulf realized that the man just like Kitchi and Ulf himself had the power within him. The man's light was weak, blurry and Ulf realized he wouldn't have much time on this plane. But also that that light should have been as bright as Ulf's own had once been. That made him consider listening to what the man had to say. But what made him lower his guard was the fact that one of his crows flew and landed next to the man and he didn't even flinch.

"Hello. I'm Ulf" - he said, becoming visible to the man.

"Hello, Ulf. I'm Dalton. I think we have a lot to talk about." - Dalton Hartfield replied to the boy who wasn't a boy. For several hours they talked. At dawn both had a new understanding of various things and an agreement was made. And for the first time in decades Ulf was happy with his purpose.

….

"What's the purpose of all this hate, Leo? All this poorly disguised anger. Because no matter how much you try to hide it, they're there. What did we do that was so bad to you?" - Jaime asked his colleague, now sitting and staring at him with vacant, distant eyes. - You can talk."

"Where to start? Maybe it's because I'm trapped in a place full of psychopathic troglodytes guided by an evil spirit who intends to turn me into one of them? Or maybe because someone I thought I could trust turned out to be exactly like them? "

"He has a good point. - Jaime said to Chad, still trying to make the other trust him. - But it's not just that, you hate America. You hate our country but you're still here enjoying our blessings." - Jaime continued, not believing he was saying something like that.

"I had no choice in being here and I don't hate America. The entire continent is..."

"Cut that leftist bullshit. You're in America now, in real America. Where the real football is played, the real land of opportunity and you know what else I think you know it and resent it, don't you? That's where all this anger comes from." - Jaime continued, at the same time hating and feeling a perverse pleasure in those words.

"No... no... it's not true. I love my country."

"No one said otherwise, Leo. After all, you are a typical Brazilian. A happy, funny guy, concerned with enjoying life and a bit of a rogue when needed."

"These are stereotypes man... the worst... about Brazil"

"Liking soccer is also a stereotype and you like it."

"It's different, not every Brazilian likes football. And it's not just because it's a stereotype that I need to stop liking it."

"Exactly! Just because it's a stereotype doesn't mean it isn't true, does it, Leo? Which makes what I said about you true."

"No... I... I'm not a playful kind of guy... I'm not a clown... I have goals."

"Of course you do, you're in Dalton and to be in Dalton you have to be ambitious. You can't wait to get your hands on your grandfather's fortune."

"I never... needed it."

"Which doesn't mean you don't want to. Imagine everything you'll be able to do with all that money, make the most of the countries you love so much, the one in which you were born and the one that welcomed you and that you chose for yourself ."

"I... no...."

"Let the anger go and call it only against your enemies, America is your second home, the home you chose and we are your brothers, the ones you chose when you agreed to come to Dalton and we chose you, you are not a clown, you are our priest, you are the one who makes us smile when we need it and you are the one who controls J.B. because he is the only one who can make you impatient even though he wants to enjoy life as much as you do, and because all of this your place is among us so accept it." - Jaime concluded, almost believing his own words at the same time that Leonardo tried to avoid getting carried away by them, with his hands covering his face. And Chad looked at them both in amazement. The seconds seemed to drag by until Leo uncovered his face. And there was a combination of joy, malice and arrogance in him. There was no doubt. He was one of Dalton's Crows.

That realization opened a hole in Jaime's chest. He had done that, he had plotted and deceived and manipulated and finally done that. He could justify all he wanted, he could say he dit it just to gain Chad's trust and thus be able to figure out how to reverse it all. ...but it still didn't change the fact that he had done it. And Chad seemed to think the same way.

"I was wrong, you are one of us. Only one of us could do this. Welcome brothers." - He said smiling with what seemed like genuine joy combined with a great deal of relief. Jaime had thought about denying it, about throwing everything away, about punching that face until that bright smile was erased. - "Thanks, bro" - He heard Leo say next to him with a voice that was both arrogant and happy at the same time that made the feeling of nausea he felt increase. He turned around thinking about what he was going to do... but before he could decide what it was he found himself staring at the same wall where he had unsuccessfully tried to locate a hidden door minutes before, a red door that had appeared to him in dreams, that had tormented him for days without revealing what was behind it, a red door that didn't exist but was still there right in front of him. He stepped towards hearing Chad and Leo calling for him but ignoring them. With his hand shaking with anxiety he turned the handle, opened the door and physically walked through it for the first time.

….

The door that existed only when Ulf allowed it opened and the one he expected to see entered. He assumed the form the man expected to see and addressed him.

"Chadwick Wentworth Hartfield the third, what brings you here?" - He asked, knowing exactly what brought the descendant of his old friend there. The old friend whose image he used at that moment in a replica of the room he had planned and never got to occupy in the Academy that bore his name.

"Hello, sir. I... I come with an offer to make to you.

"Proceed."

"There's a kid in California, Jaime Sanchez, one of my scouts found him and..."

"I'm aware of the kid, Trip, your scouts are my scouts after all."

"Sir, I didn't mean to..."

"Calm down, you gave them the necessary resources to reach the boy. And I recognize that. So answer my question, what brings you here?"

"It's my son, he is... a disappointment, sir. Unworthy of your legacy. I failed... I failed the Academy, I failed you, and I failed him."

"I understand. But you still haven't answered my question, what brings you here?"

"I need you to do your thing with him."

"I see, that's all? Sanchez is extremely promising and you found him for me."

"Well, if you can ensure that the Hartfield legacy continues without major obstacles, it is your legacy as well and the one that helps ensure Dalton's survival."

"So you want a contract? Is that it?"

"If possible."

"Yes, it is possible. Both requests are. But it will not be easy. The blessing in its pure form, without the help of a source is a different experience from what you are used to seeing. But it will be necessary, your son should be the one who will guide the contract and in his current form he is totally inadequate. After that the steps must be followed specifically. I will give you a list of names of boys who should be brought to Dalton, boys who in the future will be a source of problems for the Hartfields and other people of interest to the perpetuation of the academy. Your son must be informed of what to do with all of them with the exception of one. He must not know that the last one came with the same objective as the others, find someone to be the sponsor in your place, not even Carmichael must know that he is a party to the contract until we are close to completion. When they and the source are under the roof of the academy things will have only one direction to go. Now Seek your son and prepare yourself, you You won't be pleased with what you see."

"Yes sir." - Chadwick Hartfield III responded respectfully, leaving and closing the door behind him.

Ulf waited in anticipation. It had been a long time since he had used his original method of working, after Kitch and before Dalton the prospect of doing so would have saddened him. But in just over a century and a half he had learned much more than in the entire previous millennium. And knowing that made him smile when he saw the door open.

...

The door opened and Jaime entered.

"You have got to be kidding." - He said when he saw where he was. For he was in the old familiar office of the Dalton headmaster.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist." - Someone said but he wasn't who he expected. - I'm Ulf and I think I owe you an explanation. - Said a blond boy smiling.

"I don't understand..." Replied Jaime.

"Let me help you." - Said the boy. And suddenly Jaime found himself standing in a snow-covered village where a blind blond boy was playing with puppies.

…

"I must say that you are the first since Dalton himself to know my whole story Jaime. Pitty."

"Why?" - Jaime asked.

"Why don't we clarify your doubts? I imagine you have many." - Ulf replied with a smile that Jaime had already seen mirrored on many of those who frequented Dalton.

"So this whole time it was you? The dreams, the visions? My grandmother... I thought... And the bones?

"Oh, where do I start?" Your grandmother. An unforeseen event, something rare in my plans. And what a formidable woman she is! It is very difficult to make the journey back to this plane. And she did it quite easily twice. But she couldn't be a match for me, not here in my territory. I had a conversation with her and she agreed to leave when she understood that there was nothing she could do against me. But she was not as upset as one might think because she understood that I like her want the best for you." - Said the boy with a friendly smile.

“Is she allright?”

Yes Jaime, there’s nothing she could offer me that you couldn't either. I released her. Which brings us to the visions. Each source manifests his power in a different way, since Trip Hartfield's scouts found you I have longed for know what yours would be. Many of my current skills came from the different sources that attended Dalton. The choice of your club mates came through the ability to look into the future that I inherited from one of those sources. But I will talk about that later. When It was clear that you were a dream walker I used that to guide you in the direction I wanted and I admit I had a lot of fun in the process. The physical limits to which I am restricted do not allow me to know the world with my own eyes. But Dalton gave me ways to interact with different people from different cultures and expanded my horizons. Plus I'm proud of our library, the books took me to places I could never physically go. I like spending my time there among them. And we had some interesting conversations there."

"I…did we?"

"I'm very proud of my impersonation of a grumpy old lady."

"The librarian? Mrs O'Malley? Was that you???

"One of my multiple personifications within these walls. I like interacting with the boys under my tutelage. But as I told you Mrs.O'Malley it's the personification that I'm most proud of and that allows me to spend my time with the books. I'm particularly interested in Mr. King's work. I don't know how he managed to escape Dalton when he lived so close to me. But it takes one to recognize the other. And his work on The Shining made me to think that he was always aware to some degree of what we were doing here. It's a shame indeed that he managed to escape me. I wonder what I could have done to someone like him. But in a way I'm not sad, I don't know if there would have been much left of his light or shining as he called it, if he had come to me and me. Then I wouldn't have his wonderfull works to help me kill time. And he was useful for my plans, he helped me put you on the path of The Crows Club.” - Ulf said, pausing and looking at Jaime, waiting for any doubts. When the boy didn't speak, he resumed his long monologue.

“Which brings us to your third question. The bones. Dalton was a genius and a true warrior of his time. He showed me that there was another ways to perform my role. That times were different and that I could create another type of warrior. A new kind of warrior for a new time and since then I have been adapting to the times and looking for new ways to expand my influence and share my blessing. And it was Dalton Hartfield who made me realize that what I do is indeed a blessing. And also who gave me the means to ensure that it reaches every corner of this country. His bones were crushed until they turned into powder and were mixed into the very mortar that built the walls of this institution. Which is the Destiny that part of the bones of every Academy student shared after the end of their passage through this plane. The other part of the bones of these former students is buried in their respective home states. I can't leave my territory, Jaime, as you yourself testified. But everyone who steps on it is subject to my influence and those who receive my blessing receive a part of me. A part that remains in the soul, but also in the body, in the bones. And it is these bones with my essence, buried in every corner of this country that guarantee my influence no matter the distance from my center of power. Every time one of our recruiters goes to visit a prospect, he takes with him a piece of Dalton on his body, a ring, a pendant. Made from the bones of deceased former students, some of these objects are so old that they were made from the bones of Dalton himself. Bone magic Jaime. Something that my own people did and that a source from Scandinavia brought to me about a century ago. And so I answered your questions. But let me get ahead of you. You're curious as to why I chose each of the others.”

Jaime was actually more concerned about reversing that situation. He had done things that he never thought he would be able to do with that single goal and now he saw no alternative to completing it. Then he let the apparition continue with his speech. - "Of course"- He replied thinking that at least he would buy some time to try to escape that trap he had found himself in.

"Liar - the boy replied without letting his smile waver - But I'm indulging myself so you'll have to put up with it. Michael Jones would become a public prosecutor who, together with the workers' union leader Jacob Miller would launch an investigation into one of the main arms of the Hartfield conglomerate after the death of Miller's twin brother in one of the Hartfield's slaughterhouses . A completely accidental death due to the drunken state of Gregory Miller, a notorious drunk stuck in his glory days as a college football player who had a career interrupted by an injury. The Hartfield Company would win the case but at the expense of a lot of money. Money that would already be compromised because Edward Chang,whom after inheriting his father's restaurant empire would transform them into a vegan chain, thus cutting one of Hartfiled Company's main contracts. To make matters worse the ore export contract for the steel industry another of the Hartfields' main sources of income would be suspended when Leonardo Reis, a staunch Brazilian nationalist, took control of his grandfather's mining company and decided to strengthen the Brazilian national industry. Crowning the disaster, Senator Jonathan Roberts managed to approve a new law increasing taxes on large fortunes. All of this being published in the country's biggest newspapers, including a particularly incisive article written by the famous political journalist Jaime Sanchez. The Hartfields are one of Dalton's biggest sources of funding, this could never happen and thanks to the good work done by both of us, Jaime it won't. Thanks."

"I didn't help you, not willingly!"

"Jaime, you chose to leave the twins under the influence of the Crows. You seduced Roberts to gain access to the club headquarters. You used, abandoned and remade Reis in Dalton's image just to achieve your goal without knowing that in doing so you achieved mine. You are mine Jaime Sanchez. And you gave me the chance to have my men in the place where the greatest dynasties in the world were born and died with secrets that could be useful to me, in the place that houses the largest unexplored area in the world, I found myself excited just thinking about what the Amazon has to offer me. You gave me an unexplored past through Chang and Reis, and promising future through the Millers. With them you gave me the opportunity to extend Dalton's ideas to millions through the screen of a cell phone. "

"I... I didn't mean..."

"Of course you wanted Jaime. You are a Crow. You accepted being the moment you sought out others of your own free will and thus sealed the contract, what came after were only the consequences.Everything happened as planned as always happens. As the board predicts. The board never makes mistakes Jaime, because I am the board. Our time It's ending. The last part of my blessing will fall on you. And as I said, it's a pitty. To be fully integrated with your brothers, you'll forget. Forget what you saw here. Forget me. You'll just know that Dalton changed you and that you are grateful for that. If it serves as compensation, know that your work is not finished yet. The old sources become my main scouts, using what is left of their light to locate other potential sources and continue with the good work. And This ends our conversation Jaime." - The boy concluded and Jaime realized that it was indeed true, that he had no escape.

"Before I go I would like to ask one more question."

"I think you've earned that right."

"Why do you do this? Those men killed you and forced you to act like this, why continue?"

"Eternity is too heavy a burden to bear without a role, boy. For a while I hated what I did as you saw for yourself. But then Dalton gave me the chance to do what I was created to do in a way that I didn't hate it. And at the same time gave me the opportunity to grow in a way that was denied to me by my own people. Although they taught me something that continues to be real to this day. This world needs warriors, leaders, the alphas of the pack. And I provide these leaders without prejudice of race, origin or sexuality. And that is why I will continue." - Understanding that the final moment had arrived, Jaime asked one last question.

"I never had a chance, did I?"

"Jaime, this is your chance. Goodbye, You have my blessing. - Jaime closed his eyes one last time. - It's time for Jace to wake up."

….

It was graduation day. Chad had been the valedictorian, praising the way of life and legacy of Dalton, drawing applause from everyone, even though they knew he was preaching to the converted. After tha he had called Senator Roberts to speak. J.B.'s father had become much more receptive to Dalton's culture after a visit there a few months earlier, even more so after Eddie and Chad's parents talked to him about his chances of running for president.

After the ceremony, a big dance was organized in the school's main hall, welcoming the families of all the graduates. The Miller twins were a sensation among the girls, being stopped all the time to take selfies or record a video. Their Tik Tok had boomed and they had already been invited to participate in talk shows and even a Netflix series. The other Crows had also shared that fame to some degree. Videos featuring the three Jays were particularly popular. The twins father to the surprise of the closed-minded community where they had been raised supported them unconditionally after a conversation held at the Academy and a good portion of land annexed to the family property.

Jace was very interested in visiting the place in the company of Caroline, the twins' younger sister, and he was not the only one to strengthen relations between the families. Melissa, his own sister, was talking to Leo and something more serious had already been established between Mike and Amelia, Chad's sister, who in turn was already engaged to the English socialite Charlotte Humphries sister of Louise, Eddie's current girlfriend, whose sister Lilly, in turn, was involved in a serious but secretly very open relationship with J.B. Only the twins were single for marketing reasons as they should be available to satisfy the desires of fans of both sexes. Which didn't mean they were inactive, because at that moment the two were leaving the room accompanied by three girls and a boy, probably for a quick orgy.

Jace suppressed his smile as he glanced across the dance floor where Mike and Chad were dancing with their respective partners, moving on to the table where Eddie and J.B. were secretly exchanging caresses while their ladies did exactly the same, and turned his eyes to where Leo, in turn, courted his sister in an undisguised way. He would have a conversation with his friend about that. Nothing would give him more pleasure than being Leo's brother-in-law with his millions of dollars, but if he somehow hurt his sister the other Crow would see an entirely different side of Jace. Finally his eyes fell on Caroline Miller and he prepared to do exactly what Leo did with his sister. He was interrupted, however, by an unknown man, clearly a Dalton alumni.

"Jaime Sanchez I have longed to meet you. I am Philip Thompson."

"Ah, of course. From the same class as Trip Hartfield. You can call me Jace Mr. Thompson, it's my nickname between brothers."

"So call me Flip, Jace. My partner Brent Woodward have wanted to talk to you for some time, but due to the nature of our work we haven't been able to attend the official meetings."

"You're scouts, aren't you? Chad mentioned that you two were the sources for his father's group."

"Yes, we were. We were much less powerful than you were. I can't tell you how much because..."

"Because you don't remember. I understand the feeling. I confess that I don't know exactly how a scout job works.

"That's why we'd like to talk to you. I know Vince Carmichael expects you to replace him one day at the head of the academy. But that's not going to make your job as a scout any easier. So why don't you wait until that job is no longer necessary to take on a position here? Until then we would like to offer you another official job offer."

"I still have college ahead of me sir."

"Our offer won't interfere with your studies, boy. You can start as an intern, paid of course. Woody and I are senior partners at Alpha, one of the biggest marketing agencies in the country and we'd like you to join us. I've read some of the your written works and they are excellent. Furthermore, constant work travels are a great way to justify absences due to scouting jobs. You will need to be in different parts of the country looking for sources and ensuring their recruitment and transfer to Dalton. If If you want to get married one day, believe me, you'll need a solid excuse for your absences. And by the way you can't take your eyes off that beautiful red-haired girl, I believe it's in your plans."- He finished with a smile that Jace couldn't help but return.

"Flip, I feel honored to accept your offer. When do I start?"

"The day after tomorrow, when you've recovered from the tiredness that redhead will give you."

"Flip, please, we are proud Dalton’s sons it takes a lot to tire us out."

….

Epilogue - 30 years later

"Jem, calm down. - Jace said with a serious tone of voice to his eighteen-year-old godson sitting next to him in the backseat of one of Alpha’s luxurious car. - If you're going to be the leader of the Crows this year you can't just be anxious for going to visit a prospect. What would your father say about that or your uncle Chad?"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jace. I'm doing my best to honor the legacy of the family and the Academy. But I can't completely avoid the anxiety. We are meeting the most powerful source in the last 30 years."

"Indeed, and do you know who was the most powerful source before him? Me. And I'm here by your side, a man from Dalton. You may be thinking you'll find some terrifying thing waiting for you, but in reality you'll find a scared boy who doesn't know why a prestigious school is offering him a scholarship. And it's up to you as president of the Crow Club to turn this scared boy into the terrifying thing. Your cousin Fritz went through this two years ago and Teddy Roberts last year. They had help from their brothers, Fritz had Eddie Miller and Teddy had Johny Miller and Mike Chang. You already have the upper hand Jem, I'm going to take over as Dalton's headmaster and take the twins with me and Leo Jr. will be there too You're covered, so put on your best smile and go to battle James Wentworth Hartfield-Jones." - He concluded as their car parked at a suburban house, making the boy relax a little.

Later while Jem was talking to the source he did the same with his father.

"In Dalton your son will be surrounded by the best professionals that the education system has to offer in addition to the company of extremely promising young people, Mr. Ansari. Jem, who is talking to your son now, is my godson and the son of the Supreme Court Judge Michael Jones, one of the youngest to hold the position during President Roberts' term. Theodore the president's grandson, studied at Dalton last year. And I know we only met and I'm taking over the institution, which may seem like a bias to you, but I studied there and I am a partner in one of the largest marketing companies in the world. From my class came great businessmen from the most diverse fields, in addition, Judge Jones himself also an Oscar-winning actor and a former football player, I'm talking about the Miller brothers, my brothers-in-law who you certainly know. Believe me you couldn't be putting Kamal in a better place."

"I believe you, Principal Sanchez. But I can't help but wonder what a place like Dalton could want with my son."

"I understand you, I thought that about myself one day, Mr. Ansari. The best answer I can give you is that I see a lot of myself in him." Jace replied with his usual arrogant smile.

#corruption #reality change #mind change #male tf #fratification #jockification

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