#and I guess that’s a majority overview

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

Lore post about Villain Mateo/ VM au for @dream-bandit :D 👍👍 thx for being curious/letting me ramble :3

pt. 2

Ima start with Nightmare King’s changed lore bc Migo’s lore is muy importante for this

So it starts the same: Lunia makes Migo and all that jazz but it changes slightly when the reason Lunia starts spending time away from him is because she has a kid (yeah Logan = Lunia’s kid batshittery continues lol) so blah blah he gets bitter and when Lunia brings little Logan to Castle Nocturnia for the first time Migo straight up just attacks him. Lunia gets pissed and kicks Migo out of the Castle and sends him to the time out corner (really just a rock floating out in dream space) and then slowly Migo’s own anger and sadness from seemingly being replaced (+ some other stuff/miscommunication) corrupt him and the Dream world around him turning him into the Nightmare King and the stuff around him into the Grim Realm. And this is where Night Hunter comes in. Night Hunter’s just been chilling, he’s got Hannah and Zoey (both of whom he loves very much) and a decently high ranking job at the Night Bureau. This all goes down the drain though when Hannah gets hurt on a Night Bureau mission, gets sick, and passes away. Night Hunter gets hella pissed at the Night Bureau because it was their fault Hannah hurt and they did nothing to keep her from dying so he turns on them. He generally just makes the Night Bureau‘s job trickery for the next little bit until the day he finally stumbles across the Grim Realm and realizes just how powerful The Nightmare King is. The two then starting coming up with their master plan to get everything they’ve ever wanted; they’re going to utilize the true power of the dream world by locking dreamers deep within their minds to siphon out dreamers ability to alter the Dream world so that they can make an entirely different Dream world that’s more akinned to a Lucid Dreaming world. This would make it so that the two of them could basically create Dream versions of Lunia and Hannah so that they can live happily ever after with them the way they want. Of course because her dad starts spending a bunch of time working with the Nightmare King, Zoey is somewhat abandoned so she goes to live with her bestie, Miya, but then they have their falling out so Zoey calls her aunt and goes to live with her in Brooklyn. (I should note though that Night Hunter and Dream Bandit both don’t know the other’s identity)

And finally we come to Mateo lol. The Garcia family’s inciting incident that makes them stray from how they are in canon is that instead of Mrs. G just leaving the parents get a full on divorce that ends with Izzie and Mateo being split up. Mateo goes with their mom and Izzie stays with their dad. Unfortunately of course Izzie is a bit to young to remember most of this, including her brother’s best friend. Additional Mateo also starts being homeschooled which puts a strain on Cooper and his friendship because Mateo also moves further away. Mrs. G also refuses to even talk to Mr. G so the siblings go from only seeing each other on holidays to basically never seeing each other period. Very tragic 😔. Anyways at some point Mateo’s aware dreamer-ness kicks in and he happens to meet up with Zoey in the Dream world where, very slowly, they become friends. Night Hunter ruins this of course. He sees Mateo’s potential, especially since Mateo brings Z-Blob into existence ever night, so Night Hunter begins to start being a Shady Mentor ™️ for Mateo and manipulating him into believing that himself and the Nightmare King are the only ones who think he’s special, and cool, and talented and that Zoey just wants to use his skills to help her defeat Night Hunter & Nightmare King. Eventually this all topples over and Mateo ends up betraying Zoey. Zoey of course is really hurt by this and Miya’s betrayal so Zoey becomes even more of a lone Wolf than before and swears off trusting anyone ever again. Once Night Hunter gets Mateo on his side he takes Mateo to the Grim Realm where he fills Mateo in on their plan. Mateo of course is equal parts horrifyed as he is kind of intrigued by their plan (a world where everything could be how he wants? No bullies, no divorced parents? Hey sign him up if you find out a way to do that without capturing and imprisoning hundreds of dreamers) but after a bit of mind meddling from Nightmare King, Mateo quickly joins the bad side.

Now that the pair have Mateo on their side Nightmare King uses Mateo to track down Castle Nocturnia (bc Nightmare King and Night Hunter can’t find it as traitors to the Night Bureau but bc Mateo is a regular “Dream chaser” that hasn’t labelled a traitor yet he can) so the Nightmare King and his army roll up to the Castle and take it over, killing Lunia in process and leading to Mr. Oz/Albert to have to take Logan and go on the run. Due to the chaos of the battle Lunia’s hourglass falls into the hands of Mummy Guy who does his best to keep it from the Nightmare King’s hands. Mummy guy however is forced to teleport into the waking world when he gets into a fight with Night Hunter who shoots him with a corruption arrow. Mummy Guy of course fucks up his teleportation and appears under Cooper’s bed, so before turning into a Night Terror he gives the hourglass to Cooper (who’s been awake all night working on a model car) and then Mummy Guy gets turned into a Night Terror but disintegrates from the light from Cooper’s lamp. This of course leaves Cooper with the task to protect Lunia’s hourglass but unfortunately for him that means he’s about to be put on the hit list of basically every major force in the Dream world.

[nopanamaman]

How do mutants in the Facility live?

Patreon Loredump. August 2023

One of the most frequent types of questions I get are about life in the Facility. So it seems like a good topic to start my loredumping series with! 

Apologies in advance for all the photo examples, I hope they work fine for getting the vibes across.

Overview

The facility dome is visible in the distance.

The facility in general – or, as it’s officially known, the Zh. I. Alferov National Institute of Anomalous Research – is a large structure located on the border of the Zone. Its most notable feature is the massive dome surrounded by an outside wall.

The wall. In real life, the famous building of НИЦЭВТ.

The latter is a building in itself, containing offices, lecture halls, resting and dining quarters for researchers, as well as minor labs. All entrances are supervised, though not totally closed off to the public. Excursions, official meetings, TV reports – all of those happen within the wall.

But you will not find any mutants here. As you may have already guessed, all the major laboratories, anomalous artefacts, and, of course, mutants are housed in the dome. The entrances to the dome are monitored and equipped with anomaly scanners, allowing only authorised personnel and mutants to travel between its sectors.

Mutants cannot traverse the facility unsupervised.

What is the mutant classification system?

Depending on their anomalous characteristics, cooperability and method of containment, mutants are sorted into types and numbered groups. Individual mutant numbers usually look like XT000-000.

Let’s use Dmitry as an example.

Dima’s serial number is DT001-319.

The type constitutes the first part of the mutant’s number. Dima’s mutation is Directional Type, hence the letters DT at the start (for the record, KT stands for Kernel Type).

Next we have the 00X number. Mutants are assigned a 001, 002, 003 or 004 class depending on the potency and containability of their mutation – kinda like SCPs, yeah. Dima has a very powerful mutation he has good control over, plus he is sound of mind, making him suitable for 001 containment.

The last three digits are the overall number of the mutant within their type. So if Dima’s are 319, the facility has had 318 directional-type mutants on record prior to his arrival. This does not mean they were as powerful or had the same level of control over their telekinesis, just that they possessed a similar mutation to some extent.

How do different mutant classes live?

001

001 quarters example. Not too different from a hospital or sanatorium

Subjects ranked as 001 are extremely powerful, have good control over their powers and are, most importantly, docile. Since their mutations are very potent and difficult to forcefully contain, the go-to approach is making them not want to leave.

001s spend most (if not all) of their conscious lives surrounded by doctors. The latter foster a particular mindset in their subjects, where the world outside is presented as a place that is unanimously hostile to mutants. This is done by means of propaganda, reminders about their family’s supposed mistreatment and, in case a mutant has some favourable recollections of their childhood, gaslighting. Additionally, subjects are never left alone with each other.

001s get very luxurious treatment by facility's standards, with much bigger, more comfortable rooms than other mutant types. They're even allowed to have gaming consoles, TVs with VHS and video players, and their own bookshelves. Each mutant has their own separate room, which is kept under constant camera surveillance with the toilet being the only blind spot.

Special folders are issued to 001s before experiments with lower-ranked mutants.

Experiments held on 001s are relatively humane so as not to discourage them from staying at the facility. They do undergo daily checkups mostly designed to monitor their mental state. 001s are also active participants in experimentation on lower-ranked mutants, who they are taught and encouraged to treat as lesser beings.

001s are a high-risk investment, so their numbers are far smaller than those of 002 and 003-class mutants. Additionally, because of the potential danger they present, the institute is quick to dispose of 001 subjects by either termination or reclassification to 004. Though, if a 001 manages to stay cooperative long-term, they can become a very valuable asset for the facility.

002 and 003

002 and 003 quarters example. Though, they’re typically not as well-kept

002 and 003 mutant classes can be grouped together, since their treatment is largely the same. Both of these types’ mutations are easy to forcibly contain. The difference is their danger levels. 003s require close monitoring to not be harmful to others, while 002s are borderline harmless. Both types are characterised by general cooperability.

002s live in wards for 2 to 4 people, while 003s are more commonly placed in single-person wards to prevent accidents. A standard room includes a bed, a desk and a small bathroom (multiple beds and two desks in bigger wards).

KT got to take a dinosaur plushie to her room for good behaviour.

Mutants are allowed to borrow books from the library, as well as get drawing and writing materials. If they behave well, they can get a toy or even be lent a handheld console for a few days. 

002s and 003s have breakfasts, lunches and dinners together, and can spend some time in the playroom with other mutants (that’s also where they can play computer games and watch TV) – all under very strict surveillance, of course.

In some ways, their treatment is much less cruel than that of the elite 001 subjects.

KT before the DT experiment.

Though, not when it comes to experiments. 002s and 003s are very common, and are thus treated as disposable material in a scientific sense. The people holding experiments on them are a lot less concerned with minimising the subject’s pain or discomfort. Consequently, it’s not uncommon for mutants of these classes to sustain serious injuries or die as a result of experimentation.

That said, 002s have the highest likelihood of getting released from the facility, given they meet the conditions for it (more on that below).

004

004 quarters example. Basically a prison bunker

004 is a special category reserved for powerful mutants that refuse or physically cannot cooperate. This number can also be issued as a temporary or permanent punishment to misbehaving mutants. The 004 quarters are located underground and have the highest level of security, acting as a sort of bunker for the most dangerous subjects the facility has.

004 rooms are even more barebones than those of 002 and 003s. They have no access to entertainment (unless it is somehow required to contain their mutation) and cannot leave their room under any circumstances. They are more weapons than test subjects.

Do mutants receive education?

All mutants from class 003 and above receive basic education, learning to read, write and count. They additionally get curated history and sociology lessons. Some mutants, namely 001s, attend mandatory classes in certain disciplines to better apply their mutation. For example, Dmitry studied anatomy to know the precise positioning of internal organs.

Mutants are also free to study whatever sciences interest them in their free time by asking for educational materials at the library. Needless to say, most kids aren’t too interested in that, and are very uneducated compared to their outside peers.

Is there censorship in the facility?

All the media mutants are exposed to at the facility is strictly controlled.

6 y.o. Dima and his politically correct PSP.

The only movies, cartoons, comics, books and games allowed are those that either don't feature the Zone or mutants at all, those that show the discrimination mutants face outside, or those that are very obvious anti-mutant propaganda.

In essence, there are no positive depictions of human-to-mutant interaction, aside from ones between mutants and noble scientists. And, of course, nothing that goes against the general government ideology.

Can mutants be released from the facility?

It is generally assumed that mutants that go into the dome do not come out.

While they are largely dehumanised, the facility is still publicly presented as a sort of scientific sanatorium and hospice for those that cannot safely exist in society. Releasing mutants that know the truth behind the institute’s experiments into the wild is simply of no benefit to the government. So the majority are terminated once their scientific potential is exhausted or if they become too expensive to contain. As a result, few mutants live to adulthood.

Though, there are exceptions to the rule. Occasionally, mutants deemed non-hazardous can be released back into society. This is applicable to mutants that have not experienced significant mistreatment from the facility, lack the ability to talk about their experiences and optimally have been brainwashed by an appropriate 001 subject.

Have other mutants before DT and KT ever escaped?

The funny thing is, escapes aren’t a particularly rare occurrence.

Dmitry and Katya’s escape in KT’s Official Guide to Coolness.

Despite getting a lot of funding, the facility itself is very disorganised. Most of the money is blatantly pocketed by the higher-ups, so a lot of its structures and equipment are subpar – this includes its outdated safety systems. To top it all off, the security staff isn’t especially well-paid, so their diligence is highly questionable.

With all that piling up, there are around 3 cases of low-level escapes every year. Because of tight budgets and plenty of work to do as is, these escapes are generally brushed under the rug. The institute still keeps tabs on the escapees in case they happen to show up on the radar, but it rarely organises active searches or alerts the public for that matter.

DT and KT’s escape stood out because it was anything but low-level, and pretty bombastic at that. But even that didn’t warrant a public announcement for fear of panic and reputational damage. So if you’re an 003 mutant looking for an opportunity to sneak out… Hell, man, just go for it.

Wrap-up

That’s about all I can say about mutants’ life in the research centre, scratch some small factoids here and there. I tried to answer the most common questions regarding the topic, so I hope your curiosity was satisfied!

[spockvarietyhour]

The evolution of Worf's Sash

Worf's Baldric has changed a few times over the course of the series he's been on. Here's a quick overview

Season 1

Just straight off of TOS, Soft,cozy, pageanty. Don't know what the symbol might be but Kang and Kor wore the same symbol.

(seems sparklier) It doesn't denote their house, so who knows.

Worf's sash remains unchanged for the entirety of the first season.

Season 2 brings Worf's iconic baldric:

It's made out of bike chains.

sometimes it goes off center and you can see how it's attached:

the next major change comes in Generations

The Symbols on it have changed, I'm guessing so it pops more on screen. The bottom one is the Crest of the House of Mogh. He'll carry it over to DS9:

although I am noticing it is now upside down. but that is how it stays.

It looks like a bug. As it is set this way by the time First Contact rolls around it is also facing the same way

The whole saga of the second and final of the House of Mogh and Worf joining the House of Martok means the crest is replaced with one ripped from his sleeve.

And while Insurrection and Nemesis barely acknowledge and actively fight Worf's time on DS9 he still has his Martok family crest.

Now this would be the end, normally, but Star Trek Picard gave us this

New baldric, probably less heavy. The Crests have changed, somewhat. The Martok family crest's arrow is now much bigger than the claw, so something might have changed in the family? and the top symbol is also differently stylized.

Worf's primary sash is unique throughout Star Trek, we've never seen any other Klingon wear the bicycle chain.

this seems to be the common sash in the KDF.

Finally, a couple of ceremonial sashes:

What's this one on his Ceremonial/Dress sash? maybe a fancy version of the family crest? or both symbols together?

And then sad Worf sash from All Good Things....

Thank you for reading thru Sash Talk.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Mental Illness in Anime

I saw someone say Komi Can't Communicate is the only anime they've ever seen that talks about mental illness and that's kinda sad, so for you to not end in the same boat, I've decided to put together an overview of mental illness in anime, what I'd recommend, what comes with caveats, and so on.

It's a little nebulous what "talks about mental illness" means as lots of anime depict characters who are very obviously depressed, traumatized and even suicidal (suicide will be mentioned a lot in this list, so watch out for that), but don't directly name mental illness. It is very stigmatized in Japan, even moreso than many other countries, you don't see much talk about therapy and so on.

However, naturally there are many Japanese people who are mental health advocates, and I found an interview with Makoto Kageyama, a mental health awareness advocate who volunteered at Aokigahara forest. He points out anime he feels deal with mental illness. One we'll cover fully, many of them I haven't watched:

I think the most accurate and positive portrayals I got were actually from Kiriyama Rei (March Comes in Like a Lion), Naruse Jun (The Anthem of the Heart), Miyamura Miyako (ef: A Tale of Memories), Takeya Yuki (School-Live!) and Smile (Ping Pong: The Animation)

I'm super open to suggestions for additions, and might be adding them as reblogs and under the cut.

I'll also be making a post on mental illness in manga if this post does well, which I will link here when I post it.

So I'll start:

Anime that directly discusses mental illness:

March Comes in Like a Lion- not only is the main character one of the most accurate depictions of depression I've ever seen, it's the rare anime that actually talks about counseling, showing a traumatized character attending counseling and slowly getting back on her feet.

Orange--it...certainly is about mental illness, but it's a pretty mixed/problematic one because it seems to be confused by how mental illness works at times. It centers around a character who's suicidally depressed and his friend's efforts to save him after receiving a time travel message about his future suicide. It also does mention offhand that this character was supposed to go to therapy and is skipping out at one point. But yeah, how it handles it is...not always great. It kind of gives an impression that if you try hard enough you can "fix" someone's suicidal depression. With friendship. I guess. You have been warned.

I haven't watched it in a really long time, so it might even be worse than I remember. But I'm including it bc I definitely cried and felt parts of it were very relatable when I saw it way back when. so there's some resonant stuff there.

Monster: Kind of mixed, but it's definitely notable as an anime that not only has a psychiatrist as a major character, but also shows prominent characters going to therapy and getting better. Characters go to him for alcoholism, depression, PTSD (PTSD is not named but yeah it's definitely PTSD). At one point he helps a main character recover some repressed traumatic memories.

What makes it mixed is that while several heroes definitely are mentally ill in some way, the (complex) antagonist of the series also has some sort of mental health condition , and the story is often weirdly muddled about it. At one point they make it out like he has Dissociative Identity Disorder (calling it "split personality") but then he never shows any symptoms of that and it's kind of dropped and not bought up again. He does definitely have repressed traumatic memories though, so maybe that's all they were getting at but said it very badly.

A heroic character that actually seems to have Dissociative Identity Disorder and YMMV in how it's handled and how accurate it is. It's a "the other personality is violent" one, but rather than the other personality being evil, it's. a defense mechanism, and the violence is always in self defense or defense of others..

Sort of names the problem:

My New Boss is Goofy: One of the main characters is recovering from an abusive boss, and definitely has anxiety attacks and flashbacks as a result. This is directly named as "trauma" (though much like in the West where the loan word came from, anime characters use the words to refer to minor things that aren't mental illness too. But in this case it's treated very seriously). At any rate, the entire anime is about others helping the MC slowly recover with his new boss and friends showing immense compassion for his anxiety and other problems. Here's a good article going into it!

Anime that focuses on social anxiety:

I think what stands out about Komi is that it directly says she has a communication disorder, but tons of anime focus on characters with social anxiety, and even state what the problem is directly.

Bocchi the Rock- The girl with the social anxiety is the main character and not the bland self insert guy who has a crush on her?, amazing. it lets her be a mess too? whaaat. Yeah, Bocchi does say directly she has severe social anxiety, and the series is very relatable in how it explores that. There are a lot of gags about it, but in a knowing, sympathetic way. Her recovery is realistically slow, and sometimes she backslides. She talks directly about her social anxiety, using the term.

Tsuritama: MC's social anxiety is so bad he can have panic attacks when people talk to him...the attacks are also represented in this really interesting way where they have water come in to drown him.

My Roommate is a Cat: Man dealing with social anxiety slowly recovers with the help of his cat. It's cute. Here's an article going into it!

Anime that don't namedrop mental illness directly, but really resonates:

Natsume's Book of Friends: I wrote an entire article about how relatable it is to me and my mental illness, how it uses the characters seeing yokai as metaphor for mental ilness at times (Natsume was textually mistreated by so-called guardians who thought he "wasn't right in the head" and his grandmother was often called that too) but also Natsume shows a lot of textual symptoms of trauma (possibly PTSD), depression and so on, and they're explored very poignantly. Here is my article: “The Courage to Speak”: Mental illness and recovery in Natsume’s Book of Friends

Revolutionary Girl Utena: Probably one of the most poignant explorations of what it means to be depressed and traumatized as a teenage girl. Several moments with Utena herself resonate, starting with when she was a child and declares she doesn't want to go on living, Anthy is also...dealing with a lot, and it's powerful how the show goes into it.

Neon Genesis Evangelion-- Many characters in it show symptoms of mental illness. Though it isn't named as depression directly (i think?), but Shinji shows every symptom you can think of, and the director Anno has said that he was extremely depressed while making it and channeled a lot of that into the characters, and we definitely see his mental journey for the better very strongly reflected in the reboot.

Kyousougiga: One of the main characters is suicidally depressed (this one is graphic, because he commits suicide on screen...only it turns out he can't die), and his journey towards becoming okay with living is a focus and was very resonant to me.

She and Her Cat: A short anime about a girl who definitely has depression and how her cat helps her. Rather simplistic ending but it's good otherwise. CW animal death too, but in a very gentle way.

Haibane Renmei: It deals with suicidal depression and other mental health struggles in a pretty intense way, it's touching, but if you have triggers consider looking into it.

Fruits Basket: Truly a cocktail of mental illnesses among the cast. YMMV on how it's handled but some parts really resonate. These articles go into it:

The Always Smiling Girl: How Tohru critiques toxic positivity

“A Man Who Can Experience His Feelings”: Fruits Basket, toxic masculinity, and mental health

Colorful: This is a submission from Nickyenchilada from the notes of this post: "I would also recommend the movie/novel Colorful. I think YMMV on how it handles the central issue of suicide but I think it does portray how even kids can be thrust into very complex situations without necessary outlets for coping with them."

Vinland Saga: This was an addition I got from a discord conversation, the entire second season explore the main character's PTSD

Yuri on Ice- A conversation on discord reminded me that a lot of people read Yuri as having an anxiety disorder, which I can totally see!

A Silent Voice- a submission from @boku-no-anime-phase who says: "I think it deserves its own shout out! This movie is nuanced, gentle, beautifully told and brimming with hope. I love the fact that just like in real life, things don't resolve particularly easily; but the characters make important progress that's rewarding to watch. TW for suicide discussion, ideation and attempt".

Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai - From boku-no-anime-phase who says: "YMMV but there's an arc that deals with bullying and memory loss where a character who deals with those things is supported and encouraged through it".

My Happy Marriage - From boku-no-anime-phase who says: "also YMMV but I think there were some lovely moments in this where you can see Miyo beginning to heal from her trauma and abuse, and learn to trust."

Anime Feminist has a whole host of articles on mental health in anime and they're all here. It covers a lot of different anime I don't know about or didn't mention and offers a lot of cool perspectives, so check 'em out! Here's a few that stuck out to me:

Finding Inner Magic: Depression in The Ancient Magus’ Bride

(I don't like this anime's narrative due to the issue with the ending pointed out in this article, but it did have resonant moments of exploring depression).

How Clean Freak! Aoyama-kun compassionately handles mental illness

The Sound of Depression: Liminal spaces, sound design, and Super Cub

From Yandere Girlfriends to Social Anxiety: Handling mental illness in The Future Diary and A Silent Voice

Footnote on Hikikomori in anime:

Any anime that focuses on Hikikomori characters are dealing with characters that are mentally ill, as being so depressed/traumatized/agoraphobic/anxious you can't even leave your room or house is obviously not mentally healthy. But what really matters is how that’s handled and if these issues are explained, as Makoto Kageyama notes:

Usually, the most common issues I’ve seen covered is the “hikikomori phenomena” and light eating disorders. Basically, a bullied character that becomes a recluse out of social anxiety, but… The characters don’t usually get shown correctly, since their issues are not explained properly and basically it ends up with a “Hey, see? People are not that bad, we are your friends!” and “Yay, I have friends, I am cured and I can trust others again!” Which is not the case, because real hikikomori can take a lot of talk and patience to get them out and when they get back to normal society (if they do), they become very wary of others. And ironically, “hikikomori” has also been used as a “moe trait” in anime even though it’s a mental health issue.

One I saw a lot of people namedrop as handling it well when I googled around was Welcome to the NHK, though I haven't seen it. But, if you look at Nickyenchilada's take in the comments to this post, it's mentioned as being resonant and it's noted that the recovery is not an easy fix, and it's also noted that several characters in the story are mentally ill.

Bonus list:

Neurodiversity in Anime- (that don't namedrop mental illness directly, but really resonate)

I initially didn't include a neurodiversity section in this post because I honestly could not think of any anime that directly talks about neurodiversity or has a textually neurodivergent character.

(However, there are manga that actually do! I pointed some out in my Mental Illness and Neurodiversity in Manga post I did to complement this one!)

You can also read some articles about neurodiversity in anime here

And the list of characters that can simply be read as neurodivergent is huge, and if I tried to list every popular read it would be endless, plus I don't feel comfortable "diagnosing" any characters with developmental disorders I don't personally have. However, I am willing to take suggestions from others on this one, so here are a few!

Mob Psycho 100 - submitted by boku-no-anime-phase, who says " Mob is autistic and I will die on this hill; the trouble he has with fitting in, relating to others and knowing the right things to do imo stems directly from that."

Princess Jellyfish - submitted by boku-no-anime-phase, who says "I'd be willing to bet that all the women who live in that apartment are neurodivergent. They all have their special interests and they live together in mutual neurodivergent infodumping bliss and it's wonderful. (Unrelated but TW for sexual assault and some transphobia)"

Chihayafuru- submission by @noisepartythumpingmusic who says "It's never noted explicitly, but I firmly believe the main character of Chihayafuru has ADHD, which is perfect for a main character of a sports" josei. As someone who does have ADHD, I personally can totally see that read of Chihaya (the main character)!

Anti-recommendations (as in seems potentially resonant but then drop the ball hard, because if I listed all the anime that's blatantly gross about mental illness from the second the subject comes up we'd be here all day) (Dead Dove Do Not Eat)

Wonder Egg Priority: Starts out like it's going to be a nuanced exploration of recovering from abuse, suicidal depression, and so on, only to end up incredibly stupid and offensive. The writer also believes some stupid and misogynist things about "reasons" girls commit suicide. This article goes into it a little.

Your Lie In April: Depiction of depression and trauma is completely undermined by how all the characters tell the MC he needs to get over it because his talent for piano is more important, and the clumsy, gross take on forgiving your abuser, and so many other things. This article goes into it.

---

And that's it for now! Again. I might be updating this with new stuff based on feedback or me remembering something I missed, through both updates and adding stuff under the cut.

[fairuzfan]

is it ok if i ask what fallahi and madani are i googled them and got results about dialects i guess they are specific communities in Palestine?

of course its ok. so yes dialects do have something to do with it but fellahi means "peasantry" and medani means "city-folk". these are i *guess* "different" communities in palestine but it has to do with the way of life of palestinians within different regions.

medani, like my dad's family, live in cities and are considered "richer" (though after the nakba this is relative to within Palestinian communities). they work in tijarah — which the english word escapes me but i think its trade — and culture. glassmaking is famous from my dad's hometown which is Al-Khalil/Hebron. medani also do a lot of textile arts (think of hirbawi which is in Al-Khalil).

now this isn't to say that fellahi aren't major contributors to culture, i'd argue that fellahi are the biggest contributors to tatreez/embroidery. but they make the most of their *income* from farming. women make *their* unique income (which was especially useful for widows) from embroidery/dressmaking, though.

there's also bedouin which are nomadic but a lot of bedouin in palestine settled in one place after the nakba. i cant say i know too much about bedouin unfortunately but if bedouin followers want to provide more input.

now regarding accents: my mom for example is fellahi and she has a different accent (she says the "k" sound as "ch" when talking to her family) and my dad has more of like.... a "standard" palestinian accent (as in something people categorize as "palestinian" when hearing it). but khalaelah (which is what we call people from alkhalil) have a unique accent that people describe as "singsongy." my cousins tease me sometimes because apparently i have a soft accent despite my dad not speaking it and my grandfather getting rid of it after a while.

but yeah this is just a quick overview of the difference between medani and fellahi.

[inbarfink]

So the AA Fandom has no shortage of jokes about how our favorite Anime Laywers generally prioritize stuff like the Power of Friendship above more mundane concerns like 'getting paid for doing their job' but...seriously now, how often do they actually get paid for lawyering?

Well, welcome to...

The Big Overview of WAA Lawyers and Actually Getting Paid!!

The vast majority of AA Cases do not discuss payments for legal services explictly, so I will be Ranking how probable I feel it is the Lawyers got Paid. With a 0 standing for 'explictly and unambigiously did not get paid' and 1 standing for 'explictly and unambigiously did get paid'

The First Turnabout

That's an easy one, it is actually explicitly mentioned that no, Larry did not pay Phoenix for his services as a Lawyer.

And so, my first trial came to a close. Larry slapped me on the back and said, "Gee, Nick, it's good to have friends!" But I'm pretty sure he's not going to pay us. Unless you count the clock he gave Mia.

Which is brought up again months later during 'Turnabout Goodbyes'

Butz: Whoa… Nick. S-so, is that why you helped me out for free? Phoenix: Uh… yes. I helped you because I believed in you. (Except I don't remember saying I'd do it for free…)

So Phoenix expected and wanted to get paid, but he’s just, like, not assertive enough to get his money off Larry. And thus a long legacy of Not Getting Money was born!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0

Turnabout Sisters

Okay, so the subject of money does not come up directly in ‘Turnabout Sisters’ but like… Maya does not seem to have a lot of liquid funds on her at this point. For most of the games she generally relays on Phoenix to pay for things for her. At best right now she is semi-dependent on Morgan for cash - and considering her motivations, she probably came out with some excuse like ‘oooh Mystic Maya must prove her independence in such a dire situation or something, the whole Fey Family is broke we can’t afford to give you any more money I feel so bad ooooh’.

So I think if Phoenix got paid for defending her that was mostly a token symbolic gesture of gratitude more than actually anything that’ll help him pay the rent. And obviously Phoenix wouldn’t gain anything if he paid himself for that second trial of the case lol

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

Turnabout Samurai

Okay, so this is the first case where I think it is more likely than not Phoenix Actually Got Paid. There’s nothing textual, but I think with the implications of Phoenix starting the case fretting over how to pay the rent:

Phoenix: A month has passed since my trial. Mia's murder was the talk of the town for some time… But no one paid any attention to the Wright & Co. Law Offices… How am I going to pay the rent this month? Maya: It'll be okay. I'm sure some big client is just around the corner! Phoenix: Hmph.

And THEN his new Client is Will Powers who is:

a fairly sucessful actor whose life and career seems to be unglamorous but financially stable.

the first cilent Phoenix has who isn't a friend, a relative-of-a-friend or Literally Himself

generally just a really nice and wholesome guy.

It seems pretty likely to me that Phoenix and Maya got paid for this one!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

Turnabout Goodbyes

OKAY so, I've seen folks say that Phoenix would've probably done this for free cause he sees this whole thing as repaying a debt for Being Nice to Him in Fourth Grade because as we all know, Phoenix is a Certified Ridiculous Human Being.

Phoenix: This is my chance to finally pay you back. Maya: Pay him back…? Edgeworth: Pay me back? For what? I don't remember ever doing anything for you. Phoenix: Never mind… I guess you don't really need to know.

Buuuuut... Larry at the time was also part of that Class Trial Bestie Pact and Phoenix did expect him to pay I mean Larry is not the Love of His Life but still.

And more important, this case ALSO established that Miles has a problem expressing gratitude and overcompensate using financial gifts.

Phoenix: Thank you. Oh, wait! Umm… I was wondering, how much is bail going to be? Gumshoe: Don't worry about that. Mr. Edgeworth is posting the whole amount. Phoenix: What? Edgeworth…? Gumshoe: Didn't I tell you? He's grateful to her for what she did. Alright, pal. Well don't forget to go pick her up, okay? Phoenix: (Hmm… Maybe I can get Edgeworth to pay this month's rent, too…)

So I feel, like, regardless of what Phoenix wanted - at the end of this trial - Miles IS going to make sure he is GETTING PAID. Dude was probably shoving checks into his mailbox like a full month after the trial concluded.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.9

Rise from the Ashes

So... the person who initially hires Phoenix to the case is Ema Skye, a 16 year old girl whose main funds are her allowance. And Phoenix was kinda willfully ignoring his financial situation at the start and only took this case for sentimental reasons. (just more evidence that Miles was STILL sending him payments for 'Goodbyes' lol)

It's been two months since Maya left the office… Two months without a single trial. I've had offers… But none I took. That is… until the day that girl showed up.

However he does get 'formally requested' by her probably-well-off-considering-prosecutors-in-this-series older sister shortly thereafter.

Lana: … Mr. Wright? Phoenix: Y-yes? Lana: I believe our discussion here is ended. The rest… I leave to you. Phoenix: …! Um… you mean, you're requesting my services as your defense? Lana: Don't lose any sleep over it. Your client has confessed, after all. The case is over. Phoenix: Right… I'll do what I can to get to the bottom of this. Lana: …

And after a very long and harrowing journey of being in-conflict with his own client, Lana did end up being very grateful for what he did. And again, this case espacially emphasizes that 'prosecutors make the big bucks' - so she had both the means and will to pay him.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.6

The Lost Turnabout

Alrighty, so, Maggey is generally a nice girl and also a fangirl of Phoenix Wright and that gives her an incentive to support him financially...

Actually, I really love to watch court proceedings, and I always root for you to win! When I'm off duty, I like to come here and…

But with how unlucky she is, that might imply that she could have Money Troubles. Although on the other hand she at least has a stable job at the moment... But on the other OTHER hand she does mention how all the other lawyers 'laughed her off'

Just when I thought all hope was lost; when all the other lawyers had laughed me off… "Leave it to me!" you said! You! The one and only Phoenix Wright came to save the day! And just like that, I was moved to tears, sir! I'll never forget what you're doing for me, EVER!

Which usually I wouldn't note as a financial thing. Usually when an AA Defendant is like 'oooh I have no one else to turn too, all the other lawyers turned me down......" this is because the case is considered too impossible to win or Unbearably Wacky (or some sort of conspiracy like with Maya in 'Sisters'). But, like, this is a Tutorial Case. Phoenix won that one with Fucking Amnesia. The 'impossibility' of the case was not the issue, so, yeah, it might legitimately be the money?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.4

Reunion, and Turnabout

It's Maya Murder Trial Time Again! Pretty much the same as before with the two added factors being:

Maya is now officially employed in the Wright & Co. Law Offices during the duration of the trial.

AFTER the Trial, when Morgan is like, in jail - Maya might have a bit more acess to her family funds. Although they are established to Not Be Doing Well Financially in general....

A piece of cloth with a ton of finely-written characters jammed onto it. Probably esoteric knowledge only mediums should know. …Hmm, let's see… Here's one in English… It says… "100 Ways to Save Money". … Being a medium sounds like a rough way of life…

I think all in all these kinda even out to the same Chances of Getting Paid at last time??

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

Turnabout Big Top

So if you ever start discussing how pointless the AA 'middle cases' are - just remember this one crucial detail; they are the most reliable way Phoenix Wright gets food on his plate! We once again have a stranger (that Phoenix won't feel obligated to defend for free) that is very explictly Fabulously Wealthy.

He's not as nicey-nice as Will Powers is but I feel like paying Phoenix's legal fees is not something Max will bet an eye at.

Phoenix: It's a table for guests… There are some papers scattered on top. Maya: Ah! Look at this! Max's salary is written on this piece of paper. YIKES! Phoenix: W-What is it? Maya: I didn't know a magician… This salary is incredible! Phoenix: (She looks like she's about ready to pass out from shock…) How much is it!? How much is it!? T-T-THAT MUCH!? Maya: Incredible, huh? Phoenix: You can say that again.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Farewell, My Turnabout

Okay so this is the Big One. This one’s a really complicated one to determine.

Let’s just get the first thing out of the way, the fact that Phoenix “”lost”” the case does not matter one way or another. Criminal Defense Lawyers, as a general rule, do not work on a Contingency Fee Basis. That means they are paid regardless of the result of the trial. So if this was a normal trial, Phoenix would probably be paid.

But this was not a normal trial, was it?

Phoenix was FORCED to work as a Defense Attorney due to a KIDNAPPER. And, like, my first instinct is ‘if you are already forcing someone to work via criminal means, why the hell would you also pay them??’ 

Buuuuut….. This is MY instinct, not the instinct of goddam Shelly De Killer. 

Since Shelly’s whole thing is being the Honorable Assassin, and he has some level of respect towards Phoenix as like a Fellow Professional. I can see him thinking maybe wanting Phoenix to get paid for the work he is Coercing Him To Do Under Threat of Murdering His Best Friend for the sake of Honor. 

But also also, Phoenix’s terms are not officially with De Killer, it’s with This Asshole!

And Matt Engarde is absolutely the kind of guy to casually take advantage of Phoenix’s frantic ‘please please just let me be your lawyer or my Friend is gonna Die!’ thing where, like, obviously getting paid is NOT gonna cross through Phoenix’s head atm in order to not pay/severely underpay the guy even though he can obviously afford it.

All in all, things are not looking good for this case’s probability, which is a shame considering how it ends.

Powers: Um, anyway… So, who's paying for this lovely dinner party? Maya: As if you need to ask! Everyone say, "Thank you" to Nick! Phoenix: Huh? Gumshoe: Ah, yeah… I'm kinda at the point where I can't even buy instant noodles, pal. So I kinda already put your name on the bill.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Memories

First time covering a Lawyer that’s not Phoenix!

Now, Mia’s client in this case is a college student who probably doesn't have tons of personal funds, and considering her own motivations for taking on the case she probably would’ve done it for free but…

At the time she was employed at the Grossberg Law Offices, and Phoenix hired just the office in general and then Mia took over the case just last night.

Grossberg: Still, you surprised me… What, with your earnest request last night… "Let me handle this case!" you suddenly said. And quite forcefully, too! Mia: I just found out yesterday. About the case, I mean.

So... really this is just the Vibes I get from the Grossberg Law Offices, being generally the more professional and by-the-book law offices compared to the utter chaotic energy of Wright and Co, that makes me assume that they usually reliably charge their clients and pay their lawyers.

There’s some evidence further down the line (which we’ll get to soon) that some of their lawyers do some pro-bono work - but I dunno if Phoenix’s case was extreme enough to necessitate that (I mean he might be a broke college student but his family would probably help him with the legal funds although that assumes they even exist) . So my assumption is that Mia probably did get paid. Probably?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.75

The Stolen Turnabout

So, Ron DeLite used to really financially struggle to keep up with his wife’s shopaholic habits - but that seems to have stabilized ever since his ‘benefactor’ showed up. So I’d assume he still has some funds left to pay his lawyer. I mean I guess it won’t be totally implausible if Desiree did manage to blow through them all…. Or maybe being a a high-spending shopaholic means that she’d want to pay extravagantly for her lawyer as well?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Recipe for Turnabout

It’s Maggey again! And now she’s:

Closer to a friend, or at least a friend-of-friend. Rather than Just Another Client.

Is probably in a more dire financial state than before, on account of being unemployed and also in jail for the last two months.

Also being a waitress isn’t that prestigious a job anyways 

And if anyone is gonna help her cover her legal fees it could only be Gumshoe which… does not bode well to anyone involved!

Pissed at Phoenix cause it took her some time to realize that no, that guy who got her found guilty two months ago is not him

So basically everything that changed since her last trial makes it less likely that Phoenix charged for his legal services. I'm sure she'd try her best by the end, but Phoenix might just wave it off to save everyone a headache.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Beginnings

So first things first I want to reiterate that Criminal Defense Attorneys generally get paid regardless of if they ‘win’ and while I couldn’t find any concrete statements about the matter - I believe they get paid even if their clients die mid-trial??? I mean, the legal fees just get added to their posthumous debts? So the lawyer would hypothetically be able to claim their due payment from the deceased’s remaining funds and possessions. If they wanted to, that is…

Cause, well, this is why I said the Grossberg Law Offices might do some pro-bono cases. Terry Fawles was, like, a part-time tutor who has been incarcerated for the last five years. If he has any family or friends outside that could help him with his legal fees, he never mentions them. 

So I’m really not sure if he bought Mia services or if she volunteered to do this pro-bono after hearing he had no options for legal representations out of concern for, like, prisoners rights. 

And even if he was supposed to pay Mia for her service, after the grim ending of the case - I’m not sure if she would’ve even tried to pursue getting her legal fees from Fawles’ posthumously/from his next of kin. From how deeply traumatized she was by that trial, I think that would’ve only made her feel worse about the whole situation. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.05

Bridge to the Turnabout

Iris is a nun from a small temple that is mentioned to not-be-doing-so-hot (cause it’s tied with the Kurain Channeling Technique and it’s been on a downturn since DL-6), but she does have at least enough personal funds to have her own cell-phone and occasionally go into town. So it’s not a lot, but I think it’s enough to get Phoenix at least a a symbolic token-of-gratitude payment.

Also, it might be possible Phoenix will wave off the fees due to the Personal Connection to the case. You know, he was doing this primarily to Uncover the Truth and get some personal closure for the Dahlia mess.... Or maybe not, cause he did still get paid (or tried to get paid, or forced to get paid) to save his two Fourth-Grade-Life-Debt Childhood Best Friends in court?

(And I do mean just Phoenix, Miles probably would never charge for his services as ‘acting defense attorney’, we don’t need that farce to get any farcier)

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Trump

Now this is a complicated one, let us list the factors here one-by-one:

1. As per Apollo’s comment in the next episode, the Gavin Law Offices probably operated strictly quid pro quo.

(Good-bye, quid pro quo. Hello pro bono. sigh)

2. Phoenix is supposedly friends with the boss of the Agency. And in reality, Kritoph Gavin has a very VERY vested interest in making sure the trial goes According to Plan. Incentivising him to at least give Phoenix a discount.

3. Phoenix is also not doing that great financially right now. 

4. Oh right, that entire law agency disbanded once the boss got arrested at the end of the trial!

…Speaking of which, I may be out of a job. I work for Gavin Law Offices, after all. (I still can't believe I just saw Mr. Gavin get led away in handcuffs…)

I think it is most likely that Phoenix got some sort of “”Friend”” Discount from Kristoph. But I really don’t know what happens if an entire law firm gets disbanded right after the trial cause the owner got arrested as a result of it. It probably depends on whether Phoenix was in agreement with the Gavin Law Offices who then assigned Apollo on the case or if Phoenix had an agreement with Apollo directly.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.5

Turnabout Corner

Oh hey, look! Another rare case of an Ace Attorney that actually discusses the issue of money directly!

Well, I mean we know how much Apollo got paid for solving the case of Phoenix’s accident and Trucy’s panties (nothing) and for solving Eldoon’s Noodle Cart Theft (a free bowl of ramen). We don’t see them directly discuss the subject of payment regarding Apollo’s Actual Job…

Apollo: Your request… let me guess, something's been stolen? Alita: Um, your flyer… It says "now defending" so I thought… Apollo: Whaaaat!? You mean, you mean you want me to defend you? Me? Trucy: Maybe you can tell us what happened? Were you hit by a car? Did someone steal your stand? Or your panties? Alita: No! No… I'm not the client, actually. The client would be my… well, my fiancé, I suppose you'd call him. Apollo: Fiancé…? What happened to him, then? Alita: He was arrested this morning. The charge… was murder.

But as he was complaining before about not only being pigeonholed as some sort of a detective, but also not getting paid for anything…

Um… I was wondering when I get paid? We solved the case of your accident, and um, found a missing article of clothing.

And then getting this job and being so happy about it...

Trucy: Polly! You look as happy as a clam in its shell. Apollo: For a lawyer this is it, the place where the battle begins!

Implies that He’s Getting Paid - just as much as with Phoenix’s rent stuff in ‘Turnabout Samurai’ if not more. 

Also, I don’t think the fact that the person who hired him wanted him to fail and is now going to prison is a factor here.

As I already mentioned, Defense Attorneys get paid regardless of the outcome of a trial and logically that would apply both when they lose and when they win. Plus, I am pretty sure Alita filed her request officially through Wocky’s name or the Kitaki family in general and they were obviously very grateful for what Apollo did, and they had both the wins and wills to pay him.

So let’s give a big round of applause for Apollo Justice, the WAA Lawyer most likely to get paid!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.99

Turnabout Serenade

These kind of showbiz-focused Middle Cases are generally pretty good for Getting Paid Probabilities, but this case is a bit more complicated.

Cause the plot of this case hinges on Machi being so desperate for money that he was willing to risk death via cocoon smuggling,

Situation… I cannot explain. But money. I needed. Very much money.

That doesn’t necessarily mean he was unable to afford a lawyer - without details of why exactly he needed that Sweet, Sweet Cocoon Money we can’t be sure.  But it’s plausible that hiring Apollo was not out of his price range but he was desperate for something far more expensive. 

Considering his young age and… you know, until the final day of the trial he pretended to not understand a word of English, it’s also possible hiring Apollo was a matter handled by Lamirior and/or the duo’s agency. Both of which will probably feel committed to Actually Paying, each from their own angle. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Turnabout Succession

Now, HERE’S a complicated one! 

Going generally over the usual stuff, Vera is a pretty nice person and she’s clearly grateful for what Apollo and Trucy did for her. And while the Misham Family was driven into forgeries by financial desperation, at the present-time they seem stable enough that Vera could at least afford the rates of the WAA. If this was just another case, it’ll get like a solid 0.7 at minimum. Pretty typical stuff by now.

But this isn’t just one more ordinary case. This a weird sort of ‘Test Trial’ for the Jurist System with every factor - including the Defendant and the Attorney - arranged by Phoenix’s weird little committee.

Well, for one, I'll be chair of the Jurist System Simulated Court Committee. The chair constructs the ideal situation… choosing the case, the jurist candidates… …even the judge and the courtroom.

Apollo: So… what kind of case is the trial simulation about? Phoenix: Well, since it is the first run through of a new system, I wanted something simple. Trucy: Good thinking! No sense wearing yourself out on something too serious! Phoenix: True. The case is a murder. Apollo: That's not simple at all!! Trucy: By "simple", did you mean that the defendant is… Phoenix: …Guilty. Yes. Most likely. …So, good luck, Apollo. Apollo: Um… with what? Phoenix: With the trial tomorrow. You're defending, of course. Recall that I said it had something to do with you.

So I guess the question here, did Phoenix basically make Vera officially hire Apollo? Did the committee hire Apollo and they’re the one paying him? Is this another case of Phoenix trolling Apollo into doing Free Volunteer Work for him?

Honestly I wouldn’t put that past the AA4 version of Phoenix..............but also if he did that I doubt he would’ve missed a chance to crack a joke at Apollo’s expense about that. 

...You know, I started this thread of thought with the thought I’m arguing for a lower Getting Paid score for this case but I think I just talked myself into increasing the probability.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

Also bonus round: THE TRIAL OF SHADI ENIGMAR!

Zero fucking chances Phoenix got paid on this one. HIS CLIENT DISAPPEARED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COURT PROCEEDING! And even if Phoenix gets paid before a trial is concluded (unlikely, since he didn’t know Larry wasn’t paying him until after the case was closed), he was his attorney for like half-a-day before he disappeared so wouldn’t have much of a chance either way.  And considering Zak’s character (and how he also tried to sabotage Phoenix’s current Poker-based career seven years after that), I doubt he put that much thought into Phoenix and his financial considerations to give him a down payment in case he had to to do his disappearnce act or whatever. The only thing Zak left Phoenix with when he left was his goddam abandoned child and ONE LESS BADGE!

So I think this case deserves a very special score!

Probability of Getting Paid: -1

Turnabout Countdown

It’s time for Athena’s first case! Or second case, depending on how you look at it.

Now, one of the major ways that Dual Destinies is gonna shake this Deep Serious Analysis up is that before we had, like, one Active Full-Time Lawyer at any time (maybe with a backup lawyer for Flashback Cases), and we now have Three Different Lawyers actively working together on the same cases. My main concern is primarily not which WAA Lawyers get paid for these cases, but IF any of them got paid at all. Still, shenanigans of cases changing hands officially and unofficially are gonna play a factor in my analysis as well.

And it’s here right from the start! We once again have a Lawyer defending their bestest friend in the whole world, and while some people’s instincts might suggest that means that Defense was for free, well… First things first, we already established Precedence for that back in the first trial of the first game with Larry (not for Lawyers getting paid by their friends, but at least expecting payment) and Juniper’s family is probably doing Just Fine considering she attends this super-fancy-pant prestigious Lawyer High School - so she would want to financially support Athena I would think.

And ALSO, Juniper technically didn’t hire Athena, Apollo was the one supposed to defend Junie in court at first. And although Juniper is… growing closer to Apollo at this point in canon, I don't think it's quite the ‘defend me in court for Free’ point of their relationship, compared to where Juniper and Athena are at. So this is just, like, one extra point to the Final Score!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

The Monstrous Turnabout

So in this episode, we actually have two different jobs we need to make sure if Apollo actually got paid for. We have the actual criminal defense case, and we also have Babysitting Trucy.

Trucy: Oh, we'd better hurry. Doesn't look Daddy's going to make it, so let's get going. Apollo: Huh? Where are we going? What about the job he mentioned? Trucy: This IS the job, Polly! You're supposed to keep me company today! Now, come on! Apollo: Another day of not being a lawyer. Should've seen this coming. Trucy: Well, this is the "Wright ANYTHING Agency," y'know. And there's no law-related work at the moment, so… Apollo: (Tell me again why I chose to "work" here?) Where is Mr. Wright, anyway?

That being said, Phoenix might still be a bit of a troll but the WAA is doing a lot better financially now that Trucy has those Sweet Gramarye rights and he’s not quite as mean to Apollo as he was back in Hobomode. So I get a feeling that even with this little runaround, Apollo is probably at least getting paid for chaperoning Trucy around?? Probably?

The actual case is actually a lot more clear cut. It is directly mentioned that Damian Tenma could probably afford lawyers much more prestigious than the WAA, it’s just a matter of the WAA being the only ones crazy enough to take on this ‘doomed’ case. 

Trucy: Apollo! Maybe this is your chance. Apollo: Chance for what? Trucy: To do the right thing and defend Jinxie's dad in court! Apollo: Who, me? Wouldn't a man like Mayor Tenma have access to more experienced lawyers? Jinxie: Umm… You wanna know what the detectives said? They doubted there was a lawyer who could get a not-guilty verdict in this one.

And with Mayor Tenma’s personality being based around being almost overly-generous and grateful…

Tenma: How… incredibly… RUDE! Apollo: Umm, sorry. Did I do something to offend you? Tenma: A visitor when all others shun me like a common criminal! And here I am with nothing to offer! I am the epitome of rude! Apollo: (………Wait, so he wasn't mad at me?)

I feel like it is almost a certainty that Apollo and Athena did get paid for this case! 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.85

Turnabout Academy

Okay so, it’s Junie again! Or Junie for the first time depending on how you look at it!

So all of the points I already brought up about Juniper from ‘Countdown’ still apply (save for the stuff about Apollo, of course) but ALSO this is right when Athena and Juniper reunited and their whole emotional arc in this case is about Athena feeling Juniper is being Uncharacteristically Cold and Distant towards her. So defending her on a Friend Discount would be a bit strange at this point. Maybe I can see Athena trying to insist she’d do it for free but Juniper refused?

Although I think that IS a bit weird that they had this big whole scene with Professor ScaryStatue taking over Juniper’s case and the issue of payment doesn’t even come up in passing. I mean, yes obviously, the issues of Trust and Truth and Aristotle Means being Sus as Fuck are the important things in this narrative but I’m suprised there’s not even a mention in passing. Like Means accusing Athena and Apollo of wanting this case back for the Money but they refute him???

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

The Cosmic Turnabout

Okay, look, I know I keep bringing up the Larry Precedence but it really IS quite relevant. If Actual Overly-Sentimental Human Disaster Phoenix Wright tried to charge a rate for his childhood best friend who was drifting through life doing weird odd jobs at that time. - Then Apollo, who is generally more practical minded, is probably going to charge a rate for his older acquaintance with the stable Astronaut Job. And while Solomon is a bit of a Space Larry, I don’t think he’d try and avoid the payment in quite the same way. Probably.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Turnabout for Tomorrow

This trial has Phoenix defending one of his own employees in a trial forced on by a hostage situation. I feel silly even extending this paragraph any longer. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.01

Turnabout Reclaimed

First things first, yes, an Orca cannot pay for an attorney - but I assume that the person who hired Phoenix is officially Sasha Buckler. Who IS a human being with her own funds capable of hiring a lawyer. Especially as we know that other lawyers turned her down specifically because her case is ridiculous (and not for financial reasons). 

Phoenix: What's the real reason you picked me, Sasha? Buckler: …Well, to be honest, I asked a whole slew of lawyers, but they all refused. They said stuff like, "There's no merit to taking your case," or "I'm not sure I can help." They're all as cruel as sharks, with hearts punier than whitebait!

She does mention doing a performance as thanks at the ending of the trial but that’s probably no replacement for Actual Money.

But I think most notable for our analysis about this case, is not actually any of the Orca stuff - it’s this exchange right here.

Blackquill: Today, the orca. Tomorrow, Sasha Buckler. You intend to save them both? Hmph. You say you "believe" in your clients, but isn't money really your true motivation? Why not admit you're only doing this for your own benefit? I could understand that much more readily than your empty, righteous talk. Athena: Our own benefit?! That's not why we're doing it! Phoenix: Now, Athena. Try not to let him get to you.

Yet another rare case of the game Acknowledging Lawyers Are Paid As a General Rule! And notably, when Phoenix and Athena deny it, they don’t deny the fact that they are getting paid - just that it’s not why they’re doing this. This is not exactly an explicit confirmation of Getting Paid to get the score up to a full 1, but it’s probably as close as we’re gonna get. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.95

The Foreign Turnabout

Okay, so Phoenix basically just bursted into the Courtroom and bluffed his way onto the empty defense bench despite the protests of his own so-called Client. Said client also only started unlearning his Defense-Attorney-Hate during that same trial. And is ALSO a tiny little child who has to work part time as a tour-guide to make end’s meet. I highly doubt Phoenix asked for anything more than, like, a very token rate or maybe a discount on his next tour. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

The Magical Turnabout

Considering how this case has a WAA Lawyer defending the actual CEO of the WAA, I highly doubt the WAA got any money from it. But maybe Trucy could give him some of her personal funds as a token of gratitude?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.2

The Rite of Turnabout

It’s MAYA TIME again! And while some consideration has to go to her bond with Phoenix or the possibility of some sort of Frequent Accused card the WAA issued for her - the fact that she is not currently a Coworker at the law office and has been an Actual Independent Adult for quite some time now means it is actually a lot more likely she’s able to pay Phoenix now than in any case in the Original Trilogy!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.5

Turnabout Storyteller

This one’s a pretty average case. The Defendant is not a total stranger, but he is more of a friend-of-a-friend (and Simon was originally planning to get Apollo or Phoenix into the courtroom so the connection was even more distant when he contacted the WAA). He seems to be doing alright financially with his own noodle business, and he’s a pretty alright kinda guy. The only possible concern is that he’s too totally slushed to remember he’s supposed to pay his attorney. But then again, Simon might be ‘officially’ the one who hired the lawyer for the case.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.6

Turnabout Revolution

It’s time for the THREE CASES IN ONE SPECIAL!! Because we don’t just need to consider Dhurke’s trial, I think it’s only appropriate that we take into account both Apollo and Phoenix’s side of the civil case. They are both WAA Lawyers, after all.

On Apollo’s side, he is defending Datz Are'bal, an escaped prisoner/wanted revolutionary criminal in his own country hiding away in an abandoned building and making homemade lizard skewers for food- but Datz did apparently enter Japanifornia legally via legitimate means.

Apollo: What are the charges this time? Datz: Unauthorized entry, or something like that. They think I'm an illegal alien! And I can't prove otherwise ‘cause I lost my passport! Trucy: Is there any way they'd let you go? Datz: Not without my passport… If only I had it! Dhurke, AJ! You gotta find my passport! Apollo: …All right, we'll find it. (One more thing to add to our to-do list. Now, where might Datz's passport be?)

So he presumably has some sort of funds to pay Apollo for his legal services, at least a little bit. 

And with him being Dhurke’s best friend and knowing that he also struggled financially to make end’s meet as a defense attorney at first - I would like to think that’ll incentivise him to support Apollo financially if he can?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Meanwhile on Phoenix’s side, while Phoenix uses the word ‘hire’ when talking about working for Atishon. Phoenix was once again coerced via kidnapping into the position of attorney. 

And THIS time, there is no Assassin with a Code of Honor who might consider paying Phoenix a fair rate. Both Atishon and his ‘benefactor’ are sleazeballs who would not pay Phoenix a dime if they can get away with it. Plus, with this being a civil case, there might actually be a Contingency Basis going on when Phoenix basically quit and then they lose.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.001

And finally, the grand event of this case - the Trial of Dhurke! 

So… Can a summoned undead spirit pay for an attorney? I suppose it’s probably easier in Khura'in than in other places. And it’ll mostly work the same as if the client died before the case finished, right? It’ll be considered a debt to be carried by their next of kin. Who in this case will be Nahyuta… but also maybe Apollo? Still, considering all of Dhurke’s living family ranges between ‘wealthy and well-respected’ and ‘Literal Royalty’ - I’m going to assume they’d be more than happy then to pay their Weird Brother for his help. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.75

Turnabout Time Traveler

And here we are! The last case, and a relatively straightforward one at that - at least compared to the last one lol!

Ellen herself does not have many funds as a housemaid, it seems - but since she literally just married one of the richest inventors in the world, I assume her husband is gonna cover the legal fees. The WAA Legal Team and Also Edgeworth and Ema also got an invite to the Wedding but I assume this is not instead of actual payment?

That is, of course, unless it’s technically Larry who hired Phoenix actually.

Then he’s never getting the goddam money he deserves for his labor.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Average Probability Score for All Cases (not counting the Zak Bonus Round): 0.51721875

So what have we learned today? I think that while the WAA’s reputation for basically giving away legal services for free is not entirely unearned, it is perhaps somewhat exaggerated. While there’s certainly a lot of Shennanigans and their rates are probably not high (especially not for people they know), they still get paid for a decent amount of high-profile cases. I mean, this Getting Paid Probability Score is over the 50% mark at least....

And… the odd thing is that the First Turnabout really is the only time the subject of the lawyer getting paid is really brought up directly. I get that it might, y’know, ruin the Drama if we acknowledge that our Brave Heroes are getting paid to save people from being convicted of a crime they didn’t commit - or on the other hand of the equation, that they should get paid cause They Need Money to Live. But still…

Is the fact that the only time payment is brought up directly is when Larry isn’t paying Phoenix a bad sign for the general financial situation of our Anime Lawyers? Or is it actually a good sign? Like, that they only mention Larry not paying implying that every time it is not mentioned that means the client did pay them?

[ereardon]

In The Skies || Ch. 1 [Major John "Bucky" Egan x Reader]

Overview: On a night out in London, you meet fellow American Major John “Bucky” Egan of the 100th. As war rages on, you take a leave of absence during the spring of your third year at Oxford to sign up as a nurse on the front lines in England. Time and time again, you and Bucky find yourselves thrown together in the hospital ward as you tend to him and his teammates after missions gone awry. What happens when you find yourself falling for a man who might never return from the skies? 

Pairing: Major John “Bucky” Egan x Reader

Chapter summary: You spend one eventful night with Major "Bucky" Egan after a night out in London. Will you ever see him again?

Warnings: Smut, alcohol, cursing, definitely historical inaccuracies

WC: 2.6K

Masterlist here

“Want a drink?” 

“Sure!” Your voice got lost in the crowd. The bar, somewhere in Camden, was packed, a mixture of men in uniform and women with drawn-on hosiery packed like sardines in the tiny room. Music swelled over the chaos of voices, and you could feel your heartbeat in your ears from the sheer volume of everything.

It was exhilarating. 

It was the week before exams, and you and two girlfriends had decided to throw caution to the wind, taking the train from Oxford and staying in the city in a flat that Mary’s sister rented, the four of you squished in two tiny beds with one mirror and a bathroom in the hallway. 

But the allure of London was such a vibrant change from Oxford. Even during the war, there was something romantic about the city. Maybe, in the fact of everything, it was the potential. To be who you wanted to be. To live a life worth living. 

Or, perhaps the real reason your friends had wanted to go to London for the weekend, was the men. 

So many military men. 

You’d had your share of flings with Brits. There were the other students at Oxford. The townies nearby. You even danced on the edge of a romantic relationship with a professor. But in the end, they all went belly up. 

Mary pressed a drink into your hand and you took a sip, eyes darting around the room. You had come to London only a handful of times in the two-and–a-half years you had been at Oxford. It was overwhelming, after the quietness of rural England. The hustle, the sheer volume of bodies, the loud voices and incoherent accents. Almost three years in England and you still could barely understand a British accent. 

Mary and Eileen had an easier time adjusting. Eileen was also an American, from California. She looked like a film star, and you envied her sometimes. Mary was more quiet, originally from Dover, with diminutive features. 

Barely an hour into arriving, they had both been swept into conversations with handsome men. You waved them off with a smile. That was the purpose of going to the bar, you reminded yourself. Experience life outside of the Ivy-covered halls of Oxford. Throw caution to the wind, just once. In the midst of all the tragedy and the chaos and the death, you were twenty one. You were just starting to live. 

“Need a refill?” The voice was unmistakably American. Midwest American if you had to guess. You looked up from where you had been lingering against one dark wall in the corner of the club. 

That voice. It was deep and throaty, and belonged to a tall man leaning against the wall to your right, his head cocked to one side, deep blue eyes staring straight at you. 

You felt your stomach flip. There was something unmistakeable about his gaze. It cemented you in place, grounding you. He smiled, small lips turning up beneath a groomed mustache. 

“I’m fine,” you replied, hating yourself instantly, the empty glass in your hand saying otherwise. He was going to walk away, try his luck with the next girl, and you cursed yourself. 

Instead, he stayed rooted in place, nodding. “That’s alright. I recognize an American anywhere.”

“New York,” you replied. 

“Wisconsin.” You told him your name. He reached out one solid, large hand. “I’m Bucky.” 

“Bucky? You must have messed up big time to get that as your nickname.” 

He smirked, his hand warm where it was still enveloping yours. You didn’t want to pull away. There was something magnetic about him. “You’re a long way from home.” 

“I’m a third year at Oxford,” you said. He had to lean in closer to hear you above the noise of the club and you could smell the tobacco on his jacket, the musk of whiskey and oranges. “Just here for the weekend.” 

“Seeing a boyfriend?” 

You shook your head. “No.”

Bucky smiled. “Good.” Despite the noise of the club and the competing senses — boisterous laughter, the scent of sweat and perfumes mixed together, the rush of bodies all around — you found yourself entirely captivated by Bucky. He straightened up against the wall where the two of you were leaning. “Want to get some air?” he asked. “Take a walk?” 

“Yes.” He held out a hand and you took it without thinking, not bothering to find Eileen or Mary in the crowd and tell them you’ve left. You simply let Bucky sweep you out into the cool London night. 

The air outside was biting against the thin silk of your dress and you shivered almost immediately. He shrugged off his jacket, a fur-trimmed bomber coat and wrapped it around your shoulders without you asking. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “What’s your real name?” you asked quietly. “Unless your mother had an awful sense of humor and named you Bucky from birth.” 

He laughed, the sound echoing in the empty street. “John Egan, ma’am.” 

“Ma’am,” you repeated, the word slippery on your tongue. “Makes me feel old.” 

“You don’t look a day over twenty.” 

“Twenty one,” you replied. “Last week.” 

Up ahead, yellow street lamps tossed delicate rings of light into the road. It was a T junction. You could go left or right. He stopped underneath the lamp at the intersection and you turned to face him. “Y/N,” he said. “I’m leaving tomorrow. What do you say we make this a night we won’t forget?” 

“Do you say that to all the girls?” you whispered. “Or just the ones you pick up in clubs.” 

Bucky smirked. “I say it because it’s true.” He paused, his face falling. “And because this time, we might not come back.” There was something dark and defeated in the way he said it. 

Again, without thinking, you reached up, trailing one hand over his cheek. He pressed into your palm without thinking, closing his eyes for a second before popping them open. “Can’t let a soldier go off to war without a proper sendoff,” you replied quietly. “Wouldn’t be very patriotic of me, now would it?” 

He reached out, pressing both hands to either side of your face, delicately stroking your cheek with his rough, large thumb. “No, it wouldn’t. And you’re a good little American, aren’t you sweetheart?” 

“For my troops?” you whispered. “Anything.” 

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours. You felt goosebumps prickle at your skin. He tasted warm, like tobacco and whiskey, and his mouth opened gracefully, accepting your lips across his, his tongue finding yours with soft padding. 

Bucky pulled back, sliding both of his large, warm hands across the sides of your face. His slate blue eyes bore into yours for a moment and even though you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in London, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, and empty space all around. 

At the hotel, you slipped off your heels near the door, looking around. It was a small room, just a bed in the middle, a chair next to one wall, and a window overlooking the street. Bucky closed the door. You turned to him, eyes wide. “You ever done anything like this, sweetheart?” he murmured. 

You shook your head. “Can’t say that I have.” 

“So why me?” he asked. “Why tonight?” 

“It’s war, Bucky,” you whispered. “People do things because they can. While they can.” 

He stepped closer, his scent surrounding you. He was tall, so much taller without your heels on, and you craned your neck up to look at him. He cupped your face gently. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Might be the last pretty face I ever see.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“It’s true.” He pulled away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Silently, you admired the way his thighs stretched the dark green fabric of his uniform, how long his legs were as he tapped one brown leather shoe against the carpet. “You don’t know what it’s like up there. Not knowing if we’re ever coming back.” 

“Do you have a wife back home?” you whispered. 

He looked up, frowning. “You think I’d be here with you if I had a wife?” 

“I don’t know. Some men might.” 

Bucky shook his head. “No. I don’t have a wife. Or a girl.” 

“Tonight I’ll be your girl,” you whispered, slotting yourself between his legs, Bucky’s fingers automatically reaching out, tracing along the lines of your legs covered in hosiery. His fingertips ran along the back seam of your pantyhose behind your knee as you sucked in a breath, winding your arms around his neck.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, voice thick and deep. His eyes pierced yours. 

“Are you going to come back safe?” you whispered. 

“I’ll do my best.” 

“Then it’s a promise,” you murmured, leaning down, pressing your lips to his, Bucky’s hands circling your waist, tugging your body against him, one of his hands threaded in your hair at the base of your neck where it was pinned under. He tasted of tobacco and drink and you let him slide his hands up beneath your dress, gasping as his fingers gently brushed over your bottom, fingertips grazing the snaps of your garter where it clipped to your thigh highs.

“Can’t tell you the last time I touched real stockings,” he whispered. You didn’t have the heart to tell him they were your last pair, and that you had been saving them. Most days, you drew a line up the back of your leg like all the other women, replicating the seam of stockings but going without in order to support the war. 

“And how do they feel?” 

Bucky looked up, his enormous hands clasped around the back of your thighs where your bare flesh sat between the edge of your panties and the top of the stockings. “Amazing.” 

You tipped your head back in a sigh as he gripped your bottom, squeezing the bare flesh tightly. He unclipped the stockings, rolling them down your left, then your right, leg, slowly. You reached out, undoing his tie, his blue eyes watching yours with rapt attention as your fingertips shook while you undressed him. 

His skin was warm as you slid your fingers over his bare chest, admiring the smattering of hair in the center of his sternum, the small scar on his left shoulder blade. You couldn’t help but run your hands over his abs, so clearly defined but still soft, the way the muscles melted into each other like rounded mountaintops. 

You spun around so Bucky could undo the buttons on the back of your dress. There was an intimacy as he worked his way down your back until the dress peeled off. You placed your hands over your chest, turning around shyly. 

“Don’t cover up, baby,” he whispered, voice low and gravely. “Let me see you.” 

Slowly, you removed your hands, standing in front of him in only your sheer ivory slip dress. Buck reached up, tracing one hand over your breast, your nipple straining against the fabric, the air in the room full of expectation. You gasped as he slid the lacy strap off of your shoulder, exposing your chest, leaning forward and taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard as you threaded your fingers into his curling dark hair. “Oh!” 

He pulled you down against him, rolling you over until your back was against the bed, his head still level with your chest as he kissed across your exposed skin. Your fingertips dug against his back, eyes closing as you widened your hips, letting him sit between your thighs. 

You had been with men before. Oxford, for all of its poshness and etiquette, had seen a spike in debauchery since the war broke out. So different from back home. You were different here than you were at home. 

But being with those other men was nothing like being with Bucky. His mustache tickled over the exposed skin of your neck as he pressed inside of you, his arms wrapping around your whole body, keeping you warm, holding you as close as possible as you moved together, your fingers tangled in his hair, your ankles curled around his hips, your moans drenching the small gap of air between the two of you. 

And as he finished, his forehead pressed against yours as he moaned into the night, hips shuddering against your body, you let go. 

You laid in the bed, tucked squarely in Bucky’s embrace, your face close to his chest as he lit up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from you. His fingertips danced over your shoulder. “So how do you like England?” he asked. 

You pushed up off of him, chuckling. “England? Oh it’s fine. All beans and toast and pints. Still not used to the accents. I have to ask my professors to repeat themselves all the time, they think I’m hard of hearing.” 

He smiled. “What are you studying?” 

“Biology.”

“Biology?” He took a puff of his cigarette. “To do what?” 

“Research. I like plants and gardening and animals.” 

He reached out, playing with one ringlet of hair that had fallen loose from your updo. “A New Yorker who likes gardening? Never heard of such a thing.” 

“We had plants on our rooftop. I used to go out there every afternoon to sit with my schoolwork, reading by the fire escape. Dream about being anywhere else. Somewhere green.” 

“England is green,” Bucky said. “Outside of London of course. From up there, it’s all green.” 

“What’s it like?” you asked. “Flying.” 

“Scary as shit,” he replied and your eyes widened. He stubbed out the cigarette in a bowl on the nightstand. “No matter how good you are, no matter how many times you’ve made it back, you never know what you’re going to find.” 

“You’re scared?” 

“Fucking terrified.” 

You traced one hand down the side of his face. “What if you didn’t go back to base tomorrow?” you whispered. 

“I have to. I have my men to worry about.” 

“Tell me about your friends.” 

“Well there’s Croz. Smart sonofabitch, but sick every time he gets in the air. There’s Curt and Rosie.” He smiled. “And then there’s Buck.” 

“Buck?” You frowned. “I thought you were Buck.” 

“I’m Bucky, he’s Buck,” he clarified. “It’s a long story.” 

“Two peas in a pod, then?” 

“He asked me to be his best man,” Bucky said and you saw the way his face turned up in a soft smile. His eyes were far away, like he was dreaming. 

“Bet you look good at a wedding,” you whispered. 

His eyes returned to yours. He grabbed your hand, pulling it in, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “Be my date?” 

You laughed. “To a wedding for two people I’ve never met?” 

“They’ll love it. Trust me, it’ll be great.” 

“Alright, you promise me to come back home safe, and I promise to be your date to this mysterious Buck’s wedding. Unknown date or location.” 

He grinned. “Now don’t go breaking that promise, sweetheart. You’d just about break my heart.” He leaned in for a kiss and you tumbled back onto the bed, a heap of arms and legs and sighs. 

In the morning, you crept out of bed. Bucky laid on his stomach, arms tucked beneath the pillow, snoring softly as you rolled on your stockings, buttoned your dress behind you. You sat down at the desk in the corner before tucking the note into his jacket pocket and stepping into your heels. 

As you opened the door, you took one last look back. He was handsome. So damn handsome. 

You hoped with your whole heart that he would return from the skies. 

A/N: This is my first time writing for MOTA or doing anything set in a different period so please bare with me as I work on my period writing skills!

Tagging some people I think may enjoy this:

@gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @iangiemae @tgmavericklover @sunny747 @perfectprettypisces @na-ta-sh-aa @ryebecca @kmc1989 @spinning-away @yorkshirekiwi @clancycucumber230

[lawva-girl]

Historically.. We don't mix.

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Notes: the things that don't mix are history and stem majors!!! this came to me in a dream forever ago and ive been sitting on it since. This is only part one to... idk how many but yes! I have a loose outline, we can bet on 5 parts but thats a scary bet to make methinks. Enjoy :) also i apologize if the pov switching in the first bit is weird, i thought i was cooking and i kinda think its cute now so it is.

WC: 1976

The classroom was quiet, you were the only one there. Class officially started in 4 minutes. Right as you pulled out your phone to double check the room another person walked in. You assumed she was a student since she was about your age, at least she looked it. When the woman instead walked to the front of the class you realized she was the professor. Shoulder length black hair, with bangs trimmed right to her eyebrows. Wearing a white cowboy hat, which you thought was peculiar. 

She removed the hat and set it on the desk, resting her bag in the seat. 

She wrote on the board “Robin, overview of women in war” then she leaned against the desk and pulled out her phone.

You looked back at yours, 11:18. Two minutes until class began, and there was now roughly 15 people in the room. You sat in the second row back from the front, and you noticed only one person in the front row. He had a weird beanie on, dark hair, and pierced ears. You tried not to stare, since you knew he could glance back at any second.

“Okay everyone, I am Nico Robin. I’m your professor.” She smiled for the class, and continued, “this class should be very exciting, we get to learn about women like Joan of arc, who really was a delusional farm girl, and Molly Pitcher, a women who fought in the American revolution. The syllabus is online, you will need books by next class. The student store has them for 15 dollars, I won’t take any excuses.” 

The professor paused, then opened her bag and pulled out the book, “it looks like this. It’s a small booklet of primary sources, mostly text and images, that we will take a deep dive into. Your grade this semester will be 40 percent exams, 25 percent homework, and finally 35 percent participation. Yes it is a lot, this class is modeled after my time researching, you cannot be a historian or teacher without being able to work as a group and communicate. I know it’s a challenge but try your best.”

A beat.

Law felt sick. He was not a talker, especially to people who were history majors. The men were always blood hungry, the women always poetic. This class would be rough, but if he could find one person bearable enough it might be okay. Sitting in the front seat, he couldn’t glance around to see his peers. While the professor was going on about the school's mandatory syllabus information, he took a quick look behind him, as if checking the clock. 

No one was paying attention, and he glanced quickly around the class. There was only one person who looked back at him, meeting his eyes. Of course they looked away immediately, and so did he.

The professor finally finished and gave the students time to “meet their neighbors”. Law turned and found the one student who made eye contact with him. 

“I’m Trafalgar Law, I’m a double major in history and biology.” He stated right to the girl, with no excitement in his voice, tone steady.

“My name is Dracule y/n, I’m a history major, and you are insane, Trafalgar.” She had a bit of sarcasm in her tone, which he took offense to. She was the fifth person to tell him that today.

“I’m not insane, I just like history and I want to be a doctor.” 

“That’s cool I guess, I’ve never met a stem major I liked though. You guys are all so “history is just memorization and dates”, I can’t stand talking to ‘em.” 

Law looked back at her and thought ‘I have never met a history major I liked either’. He decided on saying, “If you ask me historians are basically philosophers, you just think all day and pretend like the world changed.” 

She made an obvious frown, putting her hands onto the table with a bit too much force. “Huh?!”

“History majors have two options, teach or research, both are dead end jobs that don’t help people. It’s simple.” He stated nonchalantly, like it was crazy to major in history. 

“Well life isn’t all about jobs and helping people. It’s about living?” She looked him dead in the eyes before finishing with, “it’s not like the world collapses when doctors aren’t around.” 

“Well it was nice talking, but I’m gonna chat to my other neighbors.” He said with a huff, he didn’t have to talk to you at all, in fact he hoped he wouldn’t have to again. 

After about 10 more minutes, professor Robin spoke up again, “okay okay, since we don’t have textbooks yet I decided to make a fun assignment. I’m giving you your first and last handouts, you will need to fill them out before next class. Other than that, please look at the canvas page. Read over the syllabus and take my obligatory syllabus quiz. You are now free from this class.” 

You walked out into the hall, and booked it to the student store. You told your only friend and sister, Perona, that you would meet her there.

Law, coincidentally, told Bepo the same thing. Bepo was his only friend, having grown up with the white haired bear. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only 10 minutes after class had dismissed you arrived at the store, already spotting Perona’s pink pigtails. 

“perona!” You whisper-screamed in her ear, trying to scare her. 

“Ahhh y/n”, she sighed, clearly unaffected, “you know you’ll never scare me. Anyways, what is my cute depressed friend doing on Friday?” 

You and her walked into the store, “studying... So I’m busy.” Giving her a quick smile before you two settled in the textbook section. 

“You are so coming with me then! I’m going to the mall that’s next to campus, I’m already so bored of our dorm room decorations. If we go to 5below I can get way cuter stuff for us! You need to come since it’s your dorm too, so I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Perona you have really good taste in stuff, you should be fine on your own!” You put some enthusiasm behind your voice, to encourage her. 

She frowned back at you, not buying into your typical antics. “If you don’t come then you won’t be leaving all weekend! You need to go outside y/n!” 

“Perona!? Hi!” A voice from behind you called out to her, causing you to turn instantly. 

“Bepo! What a coincidence! Do you have a picture of the textbook we need for thermodynamics?” Perona said, already stepping towards the bear.

“Of course! I have to be studious this year!” 

The two of them found the text book, it costed a whopping $300 dollars, and was written by their professor. 

“We can share, right Bepo? That way it’s only 150 dollars?” The both of them had a cloud over their heads as you watched the sad situation unfold. Peronas face was for sure one of desperation.

“Wait is there a digital version? It’s usually cheaper.” You suggested, reaching to pull out the info card. 

“Bepo! I’ve been looking.” Whoever said that sounded quite angry, and familiar?

“I’m sorry Law! I saw my classmate and got excited… sorry” Bepo turned to face the man. 

“You couldn’t have texted? just once?” Law replied, only just then looking at the two people who were with Bepo.

“Great this guy again.” You said with sarcasm dripping from your voice and turned to Perona, “we should leave, he hates me.” 

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.” Law said, pinching his nose.

“Whatever, do you have Bepo’s number Rona?” Calling her by her self appointed nickname always made her happy, right now you were hoping it would get her to leave with you to the history section. 

“I don’t actually! Bepo! Here, put your number in!” She said with a smile, being way more friendly than usual. “I’m Perona by the way, how do you know my friend y/n?” 

It was a simple question but the way he answered really bugged you, rattling off a “we have a class together”. He was looking down at his phone and didn’t even bother to look up when he answered. Hell he didn’t even bother to introduce himself! 

“His name is Trafalgar by the way, we have women in war together.” You had a straight face, conveying how much it bothered you well.

“Awww how wonderful!” Perona had an enthusiastic tone but looked at you with a smirk like no other. “Would you be her friend? I’m the only one she has right now!” 

You cursed your friend and her constant medling. She loved to stir the pot, and when you got upset she would always say “you are so cute when you’re mad though!” With her words to Law, he finally looked up. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly interrupted. 

“He only had one friend too!” Bepo handed back Perona’s phone, “it’s me!” He said with a big smile.

“He seems like he would have no trouble! My y/n is super awkward and shy!” Perona practically ignored you, as you had started to form words before she interrupted you.

“No no! He’s pretty judgmental so a lot of people stay away from him, he also thinks he’s smarter than everyone!” Bepo replied back, as if they were two parents gossiping about their kids.

“She thinks the same! Maybe they could be friends?” Perona and Bepo look at you and Law.

“I am smarter!” Both you and law said in unison. Immediately looking at each other with frustration.

“Don’t say what I say!” You said to law.

“How would I know what you were going to say? Do you even think?” Law argued back.

“Of course I do! Do you?” You couldn’t think of anything better… 

“Good one. Bepo we’re leaving.”

“Rona we are leaving too! At least I don’t constantly speak in contractions…”

Law turned his head so you would hear, “you just said one too!” 

You and Perona had already turned the corner, you quickly led her to the history section. You spared her no look, you figured you would talk about it once the two of you got back to the dorm. Once you reached the history section, you squatted down in front of the book you needed and saw there were 3 left. Grabbing one then standing. Just as you were about to go pay for the book, you heard him again.

“Are you following me Dracule? Typical.” He said, with a touch of sarcasm. 

“Typical? We both know you don’t have anyone interested enough to follow you. Also, are you even thinking? We are in the same class so of course we would both need the same book.” 

“Whatever, I’m getting my book and leaving.” He quickly bent over, grabbed a copy and was gone.

“No comeback!?” You said, just a bit too loud. You wanted him to hear you, so that he knew you knew he couldn’t come up with anything. Feeling a bit triumphant you turned to Perona, who was standing behind you with a smile. 

“What now?” 

“He’s cute y/n!”

“No chance. He’s mean, and a biology major!” 

She scoffed, “there is always an exception to the rule! Like me!” 

“Yes Rona, an exception. A single exception. There can’t be two exceptions.” 

“Anything could happen! Plus if me and Bepo end up sharing a book you might be forced into hanging out with all of us! Who knows, maybe they also share a dorm!” 

You sigh and look at her, she looks so happy at the prospect that you might have a friend, especially one that’s a guy. You settled, your good side winning out. “Fine. I’ll be open to it. Only if he is nicer.” 

[generic-whumperz]

Wyatt (Character Sheet)

Picrew

Playlist | Masterlist | Character Info |

⚠️Proceed with caution, Wyatt is a Grade-A asshole⚠️

Here's a lengthy list of his TWs in lieu of a character overview. This is everything you need to know; when I use #cw Wyatt, it encases the following:

Murderer and mock executioner

Slaver (although, in his defense, he did not buy one, his mom willed him one)

Torturer

Rapist and sexual sadist with a blood kink (hematolagnia)

Gaslighter™️

Misogynist and egotistical predator who objectifies, demonizes, and degrades those he views as lesser (which is damn-near everyone)

Has anger issues and can’t chooses not to control his temper. Exploiter and raging narcissist (has anti-social personality tendencies + probably some other shit but I’m not a psychologist) who victimizes himself in every scenario despite him being the canonical villain in every sense of the word—he would win a gold medal in mental gymnastics.

Mentally, physically, verbally, and emotionally abusive. Bully and mean-spirited, humiliates people for fun (especially The Aid).

Drug addict and alcoholic, smokes weed (the only chill thing he does) and cigarettes, chews tobacco, consumes copious amounts of cocaine cut with meth and/or who knows what, and has picked up the habit of consuming Mystic blood (no, he's not a vampire, just a hematolagniac) to get out-of-this-world high he now can’t function without. Uppers > Downers.

Dabbles in cannibalism (a few times, but it does happen, so on the TWs it goes because wtf)

Porn addict

Gambling addict

Absent father

Mommy issues, Daddy issues, was abused and neglected as a child but never processed it healthily and sought help, so now he's just a menace to society and repeating fucked up trauma/abuse cycles (hello generational trauma). Has major beef with his older brother, Waylon, and was horrible to his younger sister, Winny, when they were kids.

Drunk driver (shouldn’t be driving because DUIs)

Owns firearms and weapons but definitely shouldn’t (although everyone does in Apocamerica)

Spoiled rich guy with a complex, doesn't accept "no" as an answer

Pretty much the worst person you'd ever have the misfortune of meeting

All-in-all: bastard-ass, creepy, intimate, sadistic Whumper

Full name: Wyatt Wilder Sullivan (Wy)

Role: main antagonist, Whumper

Date of Birth & sign: April 16, 1975 (56-57), Aries (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: thinks of himself as just hetero, but falls under general sadism and dominance.

Height: 6'10"

Weight/body type/build: approx. 350lbs (I'm bad at guessing weight, take this with a grain of salt). Giant, solid build. Broad-shouldered, burly, and more heavy-set with a semi-prominent beer gut. In his youth was more brawny and muscular, now is a bit more flabby cause the only work out he’s doing is running to the liquor store, but still maintains a bulky physique.

Hometown: San Diego, CA

Family Members: Sullivan family tree. Has a daughter, Haylee, with ex-wife (how the fuck was this man even ever married is beyond me). Lost visitation rights to see his daughter and blames the Aid for it, but has made no effort to be a better person and reach out. Lives with The Aid in Eleanor's old house.

Left/right handed: right

Fav genre of music & anthem: classic rock, Ramblin' Gamblin' Man by Bob Seger

Occupation: trust-fund nepo baby. Used to be head of logistics security for family business. Now claims to be in finance and an investor (really sir, during the apocalypse?), and self-proclaims himself as a professional gambler and "independent media producer" (makes torture porn for fellow pervs on the internet—again, during the apocalypse no less). Barely graduated high school.

Ethnicity (+ American): Italian, French, Greek, North and West European, English

Hair color & length: ashy brown, silver-striped, cut short, combed to the right to hide his cow lick. Uses pomade. Facial hair: grown-out chevron mustache; rest of face clean shaven but gets 4 o'clock shadow soon after. Usually has stubble since he shaves about once a week. Body hair: moderately hairy with chest hair.

Hygiene: leaves much to be desired. Showers when sober enough to do so—or more so is sober enough to care that he reeks of BO, cigs, and beer, or after he's woken up in a pile of his vomit. Poor oral hygiene from chewing tobacco, drug use, smoking, and alcohol; thinks whiskey counts as mouthwash. Teeth yellowed and crooked with irritated, swollen-looking gums (from drugs and lack of daily care). He’s just a hot mess. The Aid has tried to clean this man up, but Wyatt ain’t having it.

Eye color: wide-set icy blue, downturned, deep sunken eyes under protruding brow.

Skin tone: light, apricot-colored skin with warm, reddish undertones. Face usually red and puffy (substance abuse)

Facial features: wide, triangle-shaped head. Thin-lipped downturned mouth. Prominent, hawkish, and rubescent nose. Arched, bushy eyebrows. Bigger ears with droopy lobes. Broad and heavy chin, slight underbite. From age, substance abuse, and lack of skin care (+ living in a dry climate): frown lines, forehead lines, crow's feet, blush-burned and puffy cheeks from constant flushing

Mannerisms: always scowling and glaring. Sniffling and wiping nose. Clearing throat. Hocking loogies and spitting chew in an old beer can. Scrunches nose with curling upper lip. Pinches bridge of nose. Loud, overly dramatic sighing. Tsks a lot. Grinds teeth. Rubs chin with index finger, rubs forehead with back of hand. Loud, heavy steps when walking. Crosses arms. Sucks teeth. Uses height to initiate others and takes up a lot of space. Constantly smokes cigs and probably has a beer in hand. When loaded and buzzing: jittery manic energy, crazy eyes, random face twitches. Bursts of movement in sporadic jolts, such as slapping or pounding fists on a table/nearest object.

Nervous ticks: nervousness presents more as nervous anger or agitation. Throws things. Grunts. Yells. Curses. Kicks, hits, punches whatever is closest to him (or uses his human punching bag, The Aid). Long car rides with blaring music, reckless driving. Tries to self-soothe by doing lines or watching porn.

Posture: carefree but domineering. He acts like he owns the place wherever he's at.

Style: basic T-shirt, collared cotton shirt with jeans and boots, casual leather oxford shoes (Dr. Martens), plain jackets. Very basic, solid-colored clothing, no fancy patterns or fun colors. Will wear a suit on occasion, but isn’t happy about it.

Health: amazingly, he hasn't had a heart attack (yet). Has had a fair share of overdoses. How is his liver still working? He doesn't take care of himself physically or mentally and should be dead, but he has the durability of a cockroach. Please drop dead

Piercings/tattoos: none

Birthmarks/scars: refer to the scar chart below that totally isn't an autopsy template (shout out to my boy for fucking Wyatt up as much as he has, I'm proud of you bby!)

Language(s): English

Personality: domineering, addictive, disagreeable, aggressive & argumentative, selfish, short-tempered, reckless, greedy, narcissistic, possessive, cruel, dishonest, grouchy, moody, violent, vulgar, prideful, dismissive, unpredictable, cold, impulsive, over-indulgent, jealous

Vices: addicted to everything he can get his hands on. Hardcore addict, and latest fixation is Mystic Blood cut with coke. Drinks more alcohol than water. Will fight and fuck his way to get what he wants. Will thrash and destroy everything when pissed off, then makes The Aid clean it up and beat him up if he doesn't do it fast enough; likes to wind down with a foot rub and/or full body massage from The Aid (*gag*).

Voice: gravelly with a tinge of teasing sarcasm, it ranges from monotone to raucous and taut. After a night of bruising and boozing, it can sound more strained and raspy/horse. (In my head he sounds something like Thomas Church?)

Smells like: as described from this scrapped excerpt left on the cutting room floor: "On a good day, Wyatt smelt of generically fragranced clean linen laundry detergent, slightly masked by an ever-present light odor of dewy sweat, salted sunflower seeds, and worn-off Old Spice. On a bad day, he reeked of one part odious stress sweat, three parts foul breath—a coalesced stench of alcohol, cigarettes, and beef jerky."

Face claim(s): John Goodman (I'M SORRY JOHN), but specifically these pictures below. Honorary mention, Douglas M. Griffin.

Character inspiration: Jonathan "Black Jack" Randall (Outlander), Ramsey Bolton (GOT), diabolical combination of Homelander and Billy Butcher (The Boys). Biggest YIKES.

Other: irredeemable POS; please openly hate this man; he's made to be shit on. That being said, as I mentioned many times above, Wyatt struggles with substance abuse, and there are references to drug use in text. But just to be crystal clear, he is not a bad person because he uses substances, and I do not intend to vilify individuals dealing with substance abuse. His purpose aims to illustrate the destructive nature of addiction—the monster it can create—the compounding impact of unaddressed trauma, and the correlation between the two. (I come from a long line of addicts and have lost family members due to overdoses; this is how I’m dealing with it; you don’t need to like how I’m going about it, but I don’t need anyone getting on my ass about it either. I’m working through some shit. To me, Wyatt is the personification of the disease of addiction and how it will drown anyone it comes in contact with.)

While the drugs exacerbate his behavior, it's important to note that he was already struggling with personal issues and has fully embraced his negative traits, and is incredibly self-destructive. Wyatt is a complex character, albeit a deeply flawed one who consistently makes poor choices and is a massive piece of shit. But deep down, he’s a sad, unfulfilled man who got the shit end of the stick and is the byproduct of bad parenting and abuse himself. He is not for the faint of heart; I think his character inspos say all you need to know about the kind of person he is. But still, fuck him.

Cursed mood board

Honorary tag request: @whumped-by-glitter

[oz-moth]

Nature Of The Addisons

" All Addisons are ever made to do Is sell, Queen says they are all equal...But some of them are more ' Equal ' Than others... " -Dess Holiday More under the cut!

Hierarchy [Highest to Lowest Rank] 1. Red Addisons 2. Yellow Addisons 3. Pink Addisons 4. Green Addisons 5. Blue Addisons 6. Purple Addisons 8. Orange Addisons 9. Defect Addisons

Public Models 🌐｡ Public Models are Cheapily made in any old factories 🌐｡They come out with no purpose, no Add-ons, and no Personality until they develop one of their own. 🌐｡They are Assigned Stores and Companies by Red Private Addisons . 🌐｡ Public Models will always be the lowest in their color. If two Blue Addisons where in a Room together. A freshly made Private Model and an experienced Public model. The Private would be higher in respect. 🌐｡Private Models Also HAVE to join companies or they die. Selling Keeps them alive. After no sales for 3 months they die. 🌐｡If A Public Model is Defected its Basically Scrapped on sight. 🌐｡Public Models Also have to work twice as hard just to be taken Seriously. 🌐｡Its much harder to install Add-Ons into Public Models. Private Models 🌐｡Private Models are made directly by the Queen or Swatch. 🌐｡They can sell alone or MAKE companies. 🌐｡They are given 3 Add-ons of their choice during being manufactured. 🌐｡Defected Private models are given to public models to help with selling. Or can Join a Company. But can't ever Make one. 🌐｡Private Models are VERY customizable by Default and don't need it as an add-on. 🌐｡They don't need to sell to live. If they really wanted to they could never sell at all and live a job-less life. Other/Extra 💿｡ Most Same Colored Addisons aren't paired together in Companies. They are territorial. So they rather arent Hired or just kept AWAY from eachother. 💿｡Some Addisons (Public or Private) Can be used as personal assistants (think Pearls from Steven Universe!) 💿｡Romatic Relationships between any Addisons lower than their rank is frowned Upon. It can risk some Addison jobs. 💿｡All Addisons come out of Factories Genderless. They can change their bodies to be however they like. One could present Fem but identify as a boy. Gender is just REALLY fluid for Addison's. 💿｡Public Models can Cannibalize Private Models to Stay Alive if they cant sell. Color Roles [These are just the most common types of these Addisons, Not all of them are like this. For Example, Red Addisons USUALLY are Bossy. But they don't HAVE to be.] Red Addisons 🍒｡ Majority Private Models🍒｡ Head of Manufacturing all kinds of Addison's, Public, Private, any and all! 🍒｡ Live in the mansion. Are Rarely seen as Assistants and Tend to have 2 Addison Assistants around them at all times. 🍒｡ Known to be very bossy and grumpy. Short-tempered. 🍒｡ Takes up a very small percentage of the Addison Population. Very Rarely made as a single Red Addison can Overview tons of factories. Yellow Addisons 🟡｡ Majority Private Models 🟡｡ Usually CEO's of companies. Typically sell weapons for self-defense...or other means. 🟡｡ They usually have large lavish Penthouse Apartments, If they can tolerate each other they also Live together. Basically, a Penthouse filled with gay grumpy twinks I guess! 🟡｡ Not many are made, Just more than the Red Addisons. 🟡｡ VERY egotistical. Will get into Physical fights over if they are 'better' then the next Yellow Addison. Pink Addisons 🎀｡ A mix of Public and Private Models 🎀｡They tend to always be Co-Owners of companies, 🎀｡ Most of them are very flamboyant... 🎀｡Very good at selling makeup and Candy. 🎀｡VERY bratty. Will huff behind a customers back if they are being 'stingy' 🎀｡Will Indirecly insult you. 'Babes you look great! however maybe some foundation might...Add! to that beauty?' 🎀｡Theirs a running theory Every Pink Addison is in one huge Polycule because they all seem to get along great for Addisons of the Same color. They kiss and Everything! Woah!

Green Addisons 🍃｡ Mix of Public and Private Models 🍃｡ General Use, can be made to sell Just about anything! They mold their personality to match what they are selling to! 🍃｡ Very Bland by themself, can't do a whole lot without guidance. 🍃｡ Most Green Addisons function like deadpan robots when they aren't told what to do. 🍃｡ Higher-up Addison's just see them as a way to make passive income. 🍃｡ Despite how lackluster they are, they seem to love trying to flirt with Customers to get sales. They will do ANYTHING to feel wanted due to how...bland they are. Blue Addisons 🌊｡ Mostly Public Models 🌊｡They are always very kind! sometimes so much so it doesn't really come off as genuine to some people. 🌊｡HUGE gossipers. Somehow knows rumors about customers the customer didn't know. 🌊｡Sells pastries most of the time, but they can be used as general-purpose sellers too! 🌊｡There are some cases where they are higher in company Rank than they should be. But that doesn't stop them from being treated like lower ranks. 🌊｡1 2 3...123 blue Addison cyber cafe sex

Purple Addisons 🔮｡Mostly Public Models 🔮｡ They are mostly Assistants to Higher Addisons. However, they are swapped and passed around a lot. 🔮｡They sell whoever they are serving small snacks to stay alive. 🔮｡Due to how many High ups they meet they all spread Drama to their new 'owner' about their previous one. 🔮｡If they do get the chance to sell alone, they Sell pants or pets! 🔮｡Due to their most common job as Assistants, If they slip up once they tend to be scrapped. So its caused them to be VERY paranoid when doing big Tasks for their 'owners' 🔮｡Higher ups hardly buy from them to keep them Alive. So there is a rising issue among Purple Addisons about them Cannibalizing their 'owners' to stay alive. Orange Addisons 🍊｡Basically ONLY public models. 🍊｡Its rare they sell. They get used as Guard Addisons or just people to sort out paperwork. 🍊｡Despite anything, they are very laid back guys! 🍊｡They are good at selling when they get the chance though! 🍊｡They are so low on the Addison 'food chain' as they die easily. 🍊｡As their job is to protect ANY Addison they are assigned to, they could be a group or a single Red Addison. They tend to learn that putting themself in dangers way keeps their 'owner(s)' safe. 🍊｡They are mass manufactured due to this, Cheaply made and cheaply sold. 🍊｡They also have a bad issue with cannibalizing those they are assigned to... Defects ☁️｡Being Defected is mainly a physical thing so it's hard to organize them. ☁️｡Public model Defects are just killed on sight. Scrapped ☁️｡Private modes can TRY climb into higher ranks but its hard, ☁️｡The last Defect who tried to hit it big had his life ruined! ☁️｡So no other Defect has tried to make it past a Pink Addison, Look where that got the first guy who tried.

Add-Ons 🎧｡ Customization This allows Addison's to change their color, hairstyle, Name, Tail Style, Eye color, and body type through a hologram menu. 🎧｡ PaintSkin Basically MSPAINT on their skin, you can doodle on them for fun. But its mainly used to take notes or other important info. 🎧｡ Defense Makes them be able to summon things like Fire Walls (big walls of fire, Creative I know), AD Block (Ad Block Tabs to use as Shields), It can be used for other types of defense but these are just what came to mind. 🎧｡ Attack Be Able to summon things like Spears, and Mantis Blades (Stolen from cyberpunk...they are so cool.) Large Pointer Arrows as Weapons, Guns, Grenades, the Whole lot! Or modified WireFrames that can function like Whips or just hard-hitting metal wires. 🎧｡WireFraming They are able to plug a wire that comes out from the back of their head into any device to 'jam' it. Addisons use this to screw over others. But its supposed to be used if the Device has a virus that could spread.

I have reading issues and cant type very well, sorry for any errors ^^'

[y-rhywbeth2]

Naming Systems #2

Elves and Drow, part 1 (and people descended from them)

Given names | Surnames (Houses)

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Given names may in fact be a big deal, as are clan and house names. Elven names are not the most pronounceable in the world.

Shockingly(!) the elves have a stupid amount of lore and then I got carried away examining sourcebook names and created a self-indulgent monstrosity. Once again, this is one part canon and one part educated guessing.

Long post:

Elves have their given names and their surname.

Child names are a long since antiquated practice amongst the elves of Toril, and the name given to a child at birth is normally their given name rather than one they had to 'earn.' Nobles are known to name their heirs after themselves; so you can get Garynnon I and his son Garynnon II. There's a trend of giving half-elven children gender neutral names.

Apparently discarding/changing your name is frowned upon: "An [elf] can of course have almost any birth name, and will rarely change it out of shame."

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For surface elves the surname is the name of the commoner clan or noble House (or high House) they were born into. Although apparently: "they tend to dislike the term “clans” as being “too dwarvish”", so even if you're not a noble you're liable to refer to your family as "house [name]." The line between noble and commoner families is blurrier and more prone to fluctuation amongst elves anyway.

For Lolthite drow only the nobility and those who hold titles may use the House name as their surname. It is also forbidden for a House to have a name that begins with L, lest we tempt Lolth's wrath or amusement (depending on her mood). Both moods are to be avoided.

Houses all have family crests and house colours, the latter of which I believe members of the house (meaning relatives and servants who work for the family) are supposed to wear to show their affiliation.

Some moon elven houses, and a few wood elven, appear to have officially translated their house names into Common. "Moonflower," "Hawksong," "Silverspear." The gold elves have not, likely because the majority would sooner see their lineage go extinct before doing that. Even the progressive ones are raised in a culture that considers preservation of unchanged elven culture as a god-given duty.

Noble houses all have their histories and colours and etc, and they took up an insane amount of space so a brief overview of those is a part 2.

In the meantime here are some vague surface elven house names who don't have detail that I know of, so you can make up whatever:

Surface: Amalith, Braegen, Calaudra, Eveningfall, Laelithar, Moondown, Tarnruth, Arruar

And here are some commoner drow surnames:

Xiltyn, Ghaun, Luen, Illistyn,Jusztiirn, Dalael, Hune, Vrinn, Abaeir, Pharm, Quavein, Blaerabban, Blundyth, Argith, Omriwin, T'sarran, Veladorn, Dhuunyl, Mlezzir, Naerth, Olonrae, Zaphresz, Xarann, Wyndyl, Tlintarn, Seerear Yogh'il'rymmin

Performers and such may take "stage names", and elves who are going to be misbehaving will also take aliases "to avoid having their deeds reflect on their family (and perhaps mar ongoing house negotiations with others)."

An elf not using their house name usually goes for a sort of portmanteau in Common: "Fireblade," "Eveningfall," "Neverdeath."

"Many elves who live and work among humans (i.e. members of an adventuring band) adopt a “humans can call me this” surname that’s a portmanteau of a hue and a living thing/natural feature (like Blackrose, or Bluewater)"

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Some word of god and some observations about pronunciation:

"Faerunian elves don't normally use D or F or hard-K to begin names"

Although there are exceptions, because I've definitely seen names beginning with D, F and K. -

Vowels may shift. Saevel and Saeval may be seen, -ian, might become -ien or -ion. -

Masculine endings tend to end in consonants, which can be feminised by adding an "a" or "e" onto the end. The "e" doesn't get pronounced, apparently, it stresses the final consonant. ("Kele" = "KeLL"). Sometimes elves and half-elves - particularly genderfluid and nonbinary elves - drop or add the vowel as per their current mood. An example given was a genderfluid half-elf who goes by either Phandarl or Phandarla. Names aren't necessarily exclusively male or female because of that; you can still find elven guys with vowels on the end of their names and ladies who don't. I observe that Drow women seem more likely than surface elven women to not bother with the feminisation of their names. Or possibly it's not part of the dialect. -

Pronunciation and rules shift a little by dialect (a moon elf from Evereska likely does not speak the same as a moon elf from Evermeet nor a green elf from Shilimista; drow in the north would pronounce Lolth 'LOW-th,' spelt like 'Lloth' while others further south might say 'LO-ul-thh,' etc) -

"all the elven names ending in "ael" can be used by any gender" "All of the "-une" elven names can be used by any gender."

"Many half-elves in the Realms seem to bear the "une" and the "ael" names as given names" -

Three syllable names seem to be the average. Two-syllable and four-syllable names are also possible. It seems like the longest, hardest to pronounce names are favoured by nobles. -

No dark elves, regardless of faith, will have names that sound like the name of a deity. It's viewed either blasphemy or inviting bad luck.

The drow dialect has harsher sounds: harder and more frequent consonants, more double consonant's ("mm", "nn", "rr") and buzzing/hissing ("zz" "sz" "ss"), and include a lot of ' , which I think means glottal stops? "Si'Nafey" or "Do'Urden".

Names beginning with "Ch" tend to be drow. -

" "Ph" is used for "F" ." Although it seems that the first f becomes ph, while if it's not in the start of the sentence it is written "f". So Phandarl, but if you add a third slyllable, Arlfandarl.

Judging by Angaradh, "dh" is pronounced like a soft "th" (sooth) and "an" at the start of a word/name is pronounced "awn", like "awww, how cute". SImilarly "am" -> "awm", "arav" -> "awrav," etc

We're entering pure hypothesis stages now, but as time goes on you begin to realise there's a lot of Celtic stuff here (like literal Welsh names like Rhys) so I'd imagine that "th" is a harder variant ("that")

"dd" is probably a dialectal variant of "dh", so soft th again.

and "ch" is a kind of back-of-the-throat growl/hiss noise. If you speak German or Arabic or something you probably get the idea, liebchen.

While there are differences between dark elven and surface elven (and they come in dialects, beside) there is still overlap, so you could still build a drow name out of the same syllable pool as surface elves.

"Nym" remains a common name for elves of all subraces.

Example drow names:

Feminine: Sabrae, Faeryl, Phaere, Olorae, Alauniira, Angaste, Briza, Chalithra, Elvanshalee, Quarra, Lualyrr, Si'Nafey, Li'Neerlay, Xune, Vierna, Talice - Masculine: Nym, Sorn, Belgos, Guldor, Solaufein, Bhintel, Hatch'net, Tluth, Welverin, Seldszar

Example surface elf names:

Neutral: Alael, Imizael, Lune, Lyrune, Belrael, Cathael, Tarune, Eluael, Rune, Gelthael - Masculine: Galan, Glaranal, Llombaerth, Elandorr, Eltargrim, Imbryl, Filaurel, Jharym, Maiele, Uthorim, Ardryll, Tehlmar, Iefyr, Delmuth, Dhoelath, Faerondarl, Luthais, Lhoris, Ornthalas, Naeryndam, Braern, Ajaar, Laosx, Edicûve, Uldrein - Feminine: Elandorr, Braerindra, Melarue, Alea, Shalantha, Saelihn, Tiatha, Meira, Ildilyntra, Halanaestra, Nuala, Yrlissa, Namyriitha, Itylra, Talanashta, Maaleshiira, Eallyr, Gylledha, Anaharae, Ysmyrl'da, Symrustar, Nlaea

-

----------------------------------------------------------

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And now the part where I lost my mind while breaking up the names of elves in Cormanthyr: Empire of the Elves and Elves of Evermeet.

If you're not here to bash together vaguely "canon" sounding elf names there's no more canon to glean from here on.

This was entirely self indulgent.

As with the human name post, the idea is you take syllables from broken appart canon elven names and stick them together with the endings.

So pick a syllable (Bel) pick an ending (-uth) = Beluth. Then you can make it sound "more feminine" by sticking on a vowel. Beluthe, Belutha, Beluthae, whatever.

Some elven names are three syllables or more, so (A) Abeluth, (Orn) Belornuth. I feel like mixing syllables that begin with vowels and syllables starting with consonants works best.

A, Aer, Aul, Am, An, Ath, Arav, Al, Ala, Ana, Aun, Aur, Aush, Aja, Ahsk, Ahren, Ash, Axil, Ard, Arl, Aneir, Anth, Aath, And, Alaun, Alys, Ang, Angh, Ans, Arath, Ava Bel, Byr, Bra Car, Cel, Cor, Cath, Con, Cys, Clu, Cshar Cheyr Daun, Daunt, Delm, Dosh, Da, Dath, Das, Dyf, Dann, Dil, Dilyn, Din E, El, Eil, Enor, Elid, Ey, Eyr, Ed, Edyr, Eis, Eval, Er, Erev Phyr, Phae, Phan, Phand, Phra Fel, Fen Gal, Gar, Gelth, Glyn, Gyl, Gw, Goron, Garyn Ha, Han, Hen, Has, Hanal Hang, Har, Hara, Hael, Iliv, Ilyr, Imiz, Im, Is, Iliph, Ilph, Ilf, Isc, Ief, It, Il, Illit, Ili Jas, Jon, Jast, Jhaum, Jaon, Jhar Kend, Khal, Khys, Kuorn, Kaeth, Ker, Kiss, Kus, Kusk, Kat, Kiar La, Lath, Lav, Lyr, Lhor, Luth, Las, Lash, Leoj, Lysan, Lov, Lif, Les, Lym, Min, Mol, Mord, Mand, Mour, Mar, Myr, Maal, Moth, Mi, Myrdd, Mei, Myrl Naeth, Narth, Nym, Nam, Naer, Ny, Nu, Nel, Nyl, Nid O, Orl, Orn, On, Otaerh, Om, Par, Pyw, Pel Quam, Qaer, Que Rath, Res, Rui, Rhis, Raer, Raeth, Rath, Rathi, Rai, Raib, Ruv, Rhang, Rych, Rynnhm, Rhys, Rhal, Rel, Ril Se, Seh, Sol, Ser, Sel, Sash, Saev, Sym, Syn, Sa, Sand, Susp, Sab Shi, She, Shy, Shyr, Shiir, Sha, Shal, Shel, Shri Tra, Tel, Tar, Tath, Taen, Taegh, Tal, Talin, Talind, Thal, Tehl, Thiil, Tan, Tiath Thel Un Var, Vrae, Vaer, Vhaer, Vand, Ves, Vest, Vier, Vyr, Vor, Vorl, Ven, Vol, Vet Wyl, Wylch Yas, Yauv, Yal, Yr, Yn, Yrth, Ys Xan, Xand Zorth, Zan, Zand, Zaor, Zil

Sounds more common with Drow: Akor, Af, Ax, Agg Briz, Bur Clav Chal, Char, Chess Div, Driz, Duag Gin, Gauss, G'eld, Grey, Gul Hatch', Houn Jeg Kren, Kel, Krond, Kron, Kal, Lauf, Lau Omar Que, Quil Rizz, Ssap, Sab, Sol, Szor, Szord Ul, Url Vic Wu, Waer, Wen, Wel, Wod Yond, Yon, Yazs Xull Zak, Zeb, Zar

Sticking a "th", "v" or "r" in front of a vowel sometimes happens.

M: -ar, -as, -al, -all, -an, -ash, -am, -aud, -arl, -aln, -arm, -ais, -aern, -ael, -aor, -un, -el, -ell, -eth, -ew, -eith -edd, -enn, -edh -iah, -ian, -is, -il, -in, -im, -ik, -iith, -iis, -iir, -iil -oun, -os, -on, -uth, -unth, -yr, -ym, -yk, -yf, -yl, -yll, -ymn, -yrm, -hyn, -rik, -ryll, -rys, -ros

F: -adh, -ae, -ie, -aeris, -ea, -ue, -ain, -ra, -ta, -ya, -lissa, -icca, -ii, -nii, -eyr, -ali, -'da, -ria, -la, -aar

N: -uil, -ael, -une, -as, -rynn, -ynn -

Endings that seem to be drow-exclusive:

N: -ee, -aste

F: -ace, -it, -ice, -yrr, -fay

M: -ab, -agh, -ast, -iz, -ica, -ild, -aen, -et, -erd, -een, -fein, -ig, -izzt, -oj, -oth, -ozz, -orl, -olg, -oos, -omph -ahc

[vacantgodling]

commissions are OPEN!

i’ve been meaning to make a tumblr friendly version of my commissions page on ko-fi for some time now, and guess who finally got around to it! if you would please take the time to reblog even if you’re unable to buy so it can reach more people that would be amazing thank you 💛

link to ko-fi is here

if you would like to order directly from me vs an affiliate website, then feel free to DM me here on tumblr and we’ll go from there :)

some basic TOS:

i have the right to refuse any commission i don’t want to work on. i won’t draw the usual suspects but i also won’t draw furry or mecha (i’m not confident in my abilities on those—maybe one day lol).

nsfw is okay but these commissions you have to order directly from me & not through ko-fi. please message me first if you’re looking for a specific kink to see if i’m comfortable with doing that

i always send a sketch before the product is finished to make sure that i have any major details and edits down. i’d really prefer if you didn’t ask to make changes after the fact 😭please provide either an email, tumblr, or discord so i can send you the sketch and communicate anything about ur commission!

there is no price difference between B&W or colored drawings

my humble offerings:

pay what you want (pwyw) -> $1USD — ???

these comms are simple; you can pay me whatever you want to fill your request, the only catch is the style and the quality is up to my personal digression. the quality won’t change if you pay me more or less money, you’re literally just letting me do whatever i want lol.

by purchasing a pwyw you’re acknowledging and agreeing to the fact that i can give you whatever quality of art i want. if you want a more quality controlled commission, or if you’re looking for something specific, please check out my other comms. i’ll block/blacklist you if after i give you one of these you bitch about the quality since, freedom is what you paid for lol.

icons & busts -> $10USD

time frame: 2-3 days

feel free to specify size, colored or uncolored. add $5USD for every extra character.

sketches -> $15USD

time frame: 2 to 4 days

any full body work that includes posing but in its first-step state. pose reference or detailed explanation required. there is no price difference between color or black and white. add $10USD for extra characters

full illustration -> $50USD

time frame: 3 days to 1 week

any full body work that includes posing. pose reference or a detailed explanation of what you’re looking for required. there is no price difference between color/b&w

add $25USD per every extra character. for a detailed background add $50USD

character page -> $150USD

time frame: 2-4 weeks

multiple illustrations to give a full overview of a character. base amount is 3 character drawings + 1 object of your choice. one character per page.

more than 3 character drawings = add $50USD per extra character drawing

[sgiandubh]

Reading comprehension

This info is currently making the rounds in the fandom:

The uber-intelligent Mordorian Sopranos are already chanting the end of OL. 'No Season 8, karma is a bitch' and all the rest.

Ahem. Not at all. Quite the contrary. Let's do a very brief overview, ok?

More than 10% out of a total of 670 employees would roughly mean between a clear minimum of 67 and a possible maximum of 99 ('high in the double digits , but less than 100'). Worldwide - not just the UK.

Considering the fact that we now know that the wide majority of the people involved in the OL production are freelancers, we then restrain the scope of our estimation to those with *** employment contracts in the UK. My best guess? Somewhere between 5 to 10 people tops. This estimate is based on the possibility of the 10% cut being made on an uniform basis, which is unclear: it could be 20% at HQ and 5% elsewhere (Latin America or Canada or other US subsidiaries). I think it's mostly about office staff, not production.

On which planet would 10 people being fired compromise the whole future of a project of OL's amplitude?

Typical preparatory move for merger/acquisition. If they want to look good in front of a new partner/potential owner, they must be interested to show off their best china & finery: OL. It's common sense, ladies: we don't go on dates in a frumpy tracksuit, do we?

Subscription figures look good-ish enough to me.

But hey, why miss an opportunity to simply bitch, when you have no idea of the things you are talking about and apparently also no reading comprehension skills?

Back in a (short) while.

[finelythreadedsky]

I know this is a very broad question and I apologize in advance for it, but do you have any recs for someone who wants to get into Greco-roman classics? Both in terms of literary works (and specific translations I guess? Like I've seen ppl talk wonders about Emily Wilson's translation of the Odyssey so maybe I could start there?) and perhaps more uuuh non-fiction readings I guess? Anything you think it's interesting/basic reading I guess. I know the easy answer would be to just pick one classic and start reading, but I sometimes fear I'd be missing a lot of info/depth since I don't really have any knowledge of this kind of lit, nor its cultural background, but idk if that's something that actually matters or just me drowning in a glass of water :')

my best advice would be to read the introductions to translations actually! often the translators provide a pretty good broad overview of what's going on with the text, some of the reasons it's interesting or unusual, and some of the major issues that scholarship has been concerned with. translators' notes also can often give you some insight into what the translator has done in order to get the text to you. emily wilson and richmond lattimore, for example, have really good and extensive introductions to the odyssey and the iliad respectively (although i would not recommend lattimore's actual translation of the iliad-- maybe wait for emily wilson's translation to drop or check out my thoughts on iliad translations here). and of the two homeric epics i do think the odyssey is a lot more friendly to newcomers to ancient literature.

i would also highly recommend the greek tragedy in new translations series for great introductions as well as great translations of the greek tragedies. i think aeschylus' oresteia (agamemnon, the libation bearers, and the eumenides), sophocles' oedipus rex and antigone, and euripides' medea and bacchae are probably some of the best plays to start with. i've found that reading a good introduction before starting the play sort of shows you how to read it and primes you to pay attention to certain aspects that you might not necessarily pick up on as a modern reader of a work from such a different culture so long ago.

and i do think that adaptation/reception is a great way to get more into ancient literature and the ancient world. i've recommended a bunch of things here but i'm also loving mary renault's historical fiction at the moment for what it does to really immerse you in the realities of life and politics in the ancient world.

but honestly reading and missing a lot of info/depth is totally okay! a lot of ancient literature works on many levels. whether you know nothing about it or have have a ton of background, there's always some new angle to see, and the things you pick up on or find weird as a first-time reader with minimal background knowledge are also super important.

[dogtoling]

Hey, I know this is not really splatoon related but can you give us tips of how to draw fat peopll/ink fishes? I always struggle to do so, and i' trying to learn how to do it

I got an ask similar to this a while ago and answered it here! I guess check that out for more of an in-depth overview of how I approach drawing fat inkfish (and people!) myself. There's a lot of good posts and tutorials floating around tumblr about this already (and i'm too lazy to go look for links, but they're out there lol)

I wrote down a lot of general tips in that previous post and I don't really think i have anything to add that other people haven't already said and that i haven't already said myself, so I'll just stress the importance of referencing Real People. As with drawing pretty much anything, you want to understand the mechanics behind it and How It WORKS, and then you'll mostly be chilling... especially with a subject with this much variety in it!

But since I want this answer to have any net value at all and not just be a "well look at this other post i made" referral, i would also like to talk to everybody who is New to drawing fat people or just generally unsure of their ability to do and reassure that you will probably do it badly at first. that's fine, i think i probably did it badly for 10 years. this is how learning art works. it probably won't take you ten years if you actually use references for it though lol

But to save you some time and frustration: give some love to areas that are NOT the stomach or torso. Fat also accumulates in the limbs and the face and you will hit a wall really quickly if you just add a belly and draw stick arms and legs (which also occurs in real body types obviously, but if you're trying to go above Chubby territory it doesn't really work, and most of the time when people struggle with drawing fat people my understanding is that they can't make bigger sizes look correct at All). But to do this effectively you will probably need to learn basic fat distribution, and after you learn this, you will probably be able to eyeball proportions correctly while drawing and also be able to eyeball when they seem off. (This is doubly why I recommend looking at a variety of real people for reference).

And for Inkfish - THE TENTACLES. Don't sleep on the tentacles. Those are part of the body and they are FLESH! Therefore they should also have fat accumulation to some degree. It's a pretty effective visual in conveying higher fat percentage and works the other way around too, if you have a particularly skinny character (which is surprisingly hard to convey in a species with no skeleton, i'm ignoring whatever the FUCK Acht has going on. i'm choosing to believe those are the structure for the gills if we wanted to explain it), you can give them notably thin tentacles and it will help get the point across. Just scale the suckers accordingly if you're into that kind of stuff. They don't change size, so they will look smaller on bigger tentacles and really big on tentacles where there's not much else than the central muscles.

My final beginner tip is stop drawing fat characters with anime boy sharp jawlines. this might work with characters that are just barely chubby but the majority of people will have a double chin or AT LEAST a generally softer jawline. if you're drawing someone who's like, significantly fatter than chubby and they don't have a double chin, it will look like a skinny guy in a fat suit 99% of the time. hope this helps lol.

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

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

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

Serena, unfortunately, wasn't.

--

AO3 Link

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

WE'RE BACK BABY!!!

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 36K

--

FEDERAL WARNING

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

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

BY PROCEEDING, VIEWER HAS ACKNOWLEDGED RESPONSIBILITY

–

CS# 1763-87 - ABNORMALITY AB299

Abnormality Behavioral Observation

Date Range: [N/A]

Observation Status: COMPLETED

Abnormality Status: CONTAINED

–

ABNORMALITY DEBRIEF

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

FN# AB299

Threat Level: D 

Containment Capability: Low

Management Capability: Extremely Low

Intelligence Capability: Mid-High

–

AB299 OVERVIEW

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

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

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

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

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

Video Feeds

Computer Software [All Access]

Phone Lines

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

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

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

–

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

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

–

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

Location: WerTech Production Headquarters

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

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

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

ABC implemented the following observation protocol:

Phone Line Wire-tap

Computer Access [All Levels]

CCTV Access

Electronic Recording

Call Redirection

No WerTech employees were notified of enrollment.

–

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

SERENA BOYD

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

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

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

–

BEGIN ABNORMALITY BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION

First Day

–

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

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

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

It still counted as being fully certified though, right?

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

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

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

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

That was time wasted she refused to give up. 

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: Gregory Jules

Recipient: Serena Boyd

Subject: Trash Run

Hey Serena,

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

You rock!

Gregory Jules

–

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

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

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

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

Well, she said she wanted those extra twenty minutes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, she started walking, because moving was safer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The curse of corporate hell, she supposed.

–

END OF FIRST NIGHT

–

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

Boyd shows no acknowledgement of Abnormality’s presence.

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

–

Second Day

–

MORNING OVERVIEW

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

WerTech Production employees remain unaware, including Boyd.

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

Abnormality continues to pursue chosen prey more intensely. 

–

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

“Custodial work,” she repeated back to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Julie already went home for the day.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh.”

“Have a good night, Serena!”

“Uh-huh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was still open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: [Empty]

Recipient: [Empty]

Subject: [Empty]

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

–

[Email Transcript]

Sender: Gregory Jules

Recipient: Serena Boyd

Subject: !! Please read before leaving!!

Hey there, Serena,

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

You’re a lifesaver!

Gregory Jules 

–

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

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

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

With an undignified hum, the lights cut out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The universe was really testing her these days.

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

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

So…how did it get there?

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

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

“Sonava-!” 

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

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

Cereal bars?

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

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

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

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

–

END OF SECOND NIGHT

–

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

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

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

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

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

Abnormality is also using CCTV to track Boyd

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

See: 

Email consisting only of Boyd’s name and hearts

Collection of food previous seen eaten by Boyd

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

–

AB299 Behavioral Theories

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

Note: Ranked by likelihood

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

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

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

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

–

Third Day

–

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

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

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

“I mean, we don’t know for sure…”

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

“I get it, I totally get you–”

“- fighting for my freaking life–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if there was?” She pressed.

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

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

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

“...but?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

“You can do this!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– tasted so good.

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

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

“It’s Serena.”

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

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

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

“Hopefully.”

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

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

“Did they throw you a party?”

“No.”

“Did they get you a card or something?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone was watching her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

– came too late? 

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

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

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

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

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

…she wanted to close that goddamn motherfucking gate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ted?” she asked. “You there?”

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

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

Ted raised an eyebrow. “Busted gate?”

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

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

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

“Now?”

“...yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And the gate…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What.”

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

“You’re sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I doubt it.”

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

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

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

–

[Phone Call Transcript]

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

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

[0:00:27] Unknown Caller: …

[0:00:43] Boyd: Hello?

[0:00:46] Unknown Caller: …

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

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

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

–

“Crap, again!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh…oh my god. Oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

Certainly not because something bad had actually happened. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh god…oh god…”

God was not going to save her.

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

She turned around and she screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It knew that just as well as Serena. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost human.

But the wrong kind of human.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where the fuck was the fire department?

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

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

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

–

[Phone Call Transcript]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[0:00:42] ABC Operative: Ma’am –

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

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

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

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

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

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

[0:01:30] Boyd: No!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

“- hang up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one was coming for her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Damn it all to hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please…stop…”

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

–

END OF THIRD NIGHT

–

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

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

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

The body of Ted Milton was collected and destroyed

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

Hidden cameras and bugs were removed 

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

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

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

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

–

AB299 Behavioral Theories - Updated

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

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

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

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

–

Sixth Day 

[Two (2) days since Abnormality last spotted]

–

MORNING OVERVIEW

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

SERENA BOYD’S RETURN

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

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

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

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

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

–

Medical Assessment: Serena Boyd

Clouded eyes; unable to follow penlight movement 

Vision improvements thirty minutes after recovery

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

Motor improvements forty-two minutes after recovery

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

Balance improvements thirty-six minutes after recovery

Speech improvements twenty minutes after recovery

Full body tremors

Low body temperature - 95.8 F

Temperature increased to 99.3 F fifteen minutes after recovery

Ashened complex

Gaps in short term memory

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

Dizziness; nausea

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

–

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

The Interview Incident

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

During the interview, Abnormality has returned to the property.

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gone? Where…where’d I go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t…I dunno,” she squeezed out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm…?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not lying about that!”

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

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

“These what?”

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

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

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

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

It was hard to think about, but she nodded.

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

She nodded again. 

“Tell us what you can about it.”

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

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

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

The medic hummed. “Did it feel longer or shorter?”

“Both. Like, like when you’re having a nightmare.”

“And how did you get out of your nightmare?” she asked.

Their impossible, neverending questions were starting to make Serena feel faint again. Her migraine was worsening with each instance she needed to recall from a reality that didn’t exist. She felt like she was going to throw up if the stress caused her stomach to tie itself into one more knot in her jumbled guts. No amount of deep breathing could slow the beat of her heart that banged furiously within her ribcage, further aggravating the purple bruises that mottled her skin. There was a right answer for everything the responders asked, so tantalizingly close in her mind, yet stubbornly guarded by an annoying little disorder called PTSD that refused to let her open Pandora’s box. 

What was the worst that could happen; she goes completely mad like the protagonist of a Lovecraft novel who tried to understand a concept outside of human knowledge? Hey, if she became a raving lunatic, at least they’d be able to string together better answers from her ramblings than her repeatedly mumbled ‘I don’t know’s.

“I just…did,” she said with a strain in her voice. “I couldn’t see where I was going and…and I ran into something. And I felt around, and I found the knob and…I was here.”

She slumped deeper in the chair, avoiding either of the responder’s gaze so as to hide the tears burning in her eyes. “I don’t wanna be here. I, I don’t want to go back there anymore. I wanna go home…”

To her credit, the medic looked extremely consoling to Serena’s plight, but the tight smile she offered was that classic you’re-not-going-to-like-this-but-we-need-to-do-it-anyways look all medical professions gave their patients who felt the remedy was worse than their sickness. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Why not?” she whined, like a goddamn child. 

“Your condition needs to be monitored. Even under normal circumstances, you’re still in shock. It wouldn’t be safe to leave you alone,” she explained. “But we can make sure you have the treatment if you’d be willing to be admitted to a private hospital.”

She paled. “A psych ward?”

“No, Ms. Boyd, it’s not a state sponsored institution,” the officer said. “It’s a very respectable facility that has numerous therapies to help. Therapies that can pull those memories out and help with the pain.”

“You do think I’m crazy.”

“We think you need help processing your trauma, not because we think you’re imagining it.” 

“It’s to keep an eye on your physical well-being, too,” the medic added. “You were in a pretty rough state a couple hours ago.”

The officer nodded once. “ABC can take good care of you. We can take you to their facility for an overnight stay, just to ease your mind, and have you discharged in the morning.”

“Well…provided you pass the examinations, of course. We can’t have you discharged if you’re still in clear medical distress, but after those though, yes.”

Something niggled in the back of Serena’s mind, almost missed by the severity of the headache that was making her brain throb. It was a tiny little prickle; the same feeling that made her spine tingle and her hands clench, the same feeling she had felt when walking through dark spots in the building less than a week before. Intuition. The sense of dread that something was very, very wrong even if anything had yet to happen. It had been right so far, despite hindsight reminding her that she hadn't taken the warnings as seriously as she should have.

don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t go don’t go don’t trust don’t trust don’t go

But why not? They were the only ones who believed a word she said. A few internet forums might also believe her wild claims about giant monsters and worlds beyond their own, but these were two people that were legit. An officer of the law, sworn to serve and protect, and a medical technician dedicated to save lives – who better to guarantee her protection? In fact, these were the last two people she would have ever thought would agree that not only that she had been stalked and kidnapped by an otherworldly being, but that her coworker had been slaughtered by it as well with no suspicion pointing to her at all. Cops and EMTs were always the one having to talk down the crazed druggies going on about how they had to kill their spouse to prevent an alien apocalypse, after all.

Even if it was odd that the offices at WerTech were still open despite being what should be an active crime scene. Even if the officer didn’t wear a name badge. Even if the medic was present and asking questions unrelated to her health. Even if neither of them were taking notes the entire interview with no camera or voice recorder in sight besides the tape player containing her paused 911 call. Even if they cared more about where she disappeared to rather than what took place prior that resulted in a man’s death, as if they had already figured that part out without her input. Even if she had never heard of a place called ABC that specialized in hospice. 

If her brain hadn’t been so clouded with such a thick fog, she may have picked up on these inconsistencies throughout the interview process. But the fact of the matter was that she was lucky if she could hold on to a thought for longer than a second before it disappeared into static. Her past was a blur and her present was already getting fuzzy at the edges in real time. All she could rely on was that instinctive pull that was trying to steer her away from a threat she couldn’t understand. The last time, that threat had been a rampaging creature. It was most certainly in her best interest to listen again, despite the desire to be around the experts of her situation.

“I don’t think…my insurance would cover that,” she said as a pitiful excuse. “Can I–”

The lights flickered. Serena froze. They then went out for one, two, three seconds before blinking back to undisturbed brightness. The officer and medic glanced at each other in a way that told her they were thinking the exact thing she was, though they were far more calm about it. However, the lights had never turned back on after an unexpected blackout before, and she was waiting for one of them to dash her worries by saying something about a shoddy generator or broken breaker box to explain the weak electricity. They didn’t. 

“Call for C Team,” the medic ordered. Her partner nodded and, rather than using the radio clipped to his shoulder as Serena had seen most officers do, he pulled out some kind of sleek, flat device from his pocket.

“Requesting immediate dispatch; C Team to WerTech. AB299 possibly on premise,” he spoke into it.

A voice crackled from the other end. “C Team inbound. Status on subject?”

“Conscious and in custody.”

What the hell did that mean? Was she the subject? And what was C Team, and who the hell were any of these people!?

“What’s, wh-what’s going on?” she asked, only to be promptly ignored by both responders, whom she had a sneaking suspicion weren’t real responders at all. No, actually, they were technically responders, just not for any emergency service the general public could call. 

The ‘medic’ hefted her black bag onto the desk and rummaged through the contents within. “Check with Jack that we have the building on lockdown and all seven witnesses accounted for. If any of them get out, it’ll be Atlanta all over again.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grimaced. He pressed another button on his strange walkie-talkie, presumably to switch the channel. “Jack, what’s your status?”

Staticky dead air responded. The ‘officer’ waited a beat before trying again. “Jack, are you there? What’s the status update?”

This time, the silence was broken in a series of snaps and sizzles of various volumes, occasionally cut in by what could only be described as electronic shrieking. Or was it real shrieking? It was too distorted to tell, but someone was clearly trying to signal back with little success. 

“-ere-”

“Jack, you’re breaking up.”

“-abn – in buil – trapped – eed bac – need! –”

The speaker was blown out by white noise, then cut off entirely.

“Shit,” the ‘officer’ muttered, switching back to his other line. “AB299 confirmed on premise. Sounds like it just took out Jack.”

“C Team is seven minutes out,” the other voice said.

The ‘medic’ pulled out what looked to be something similar to a zip tie, made of a thick white material and with two loops at the bottom of the clasp instead of one. “Go check and make sure we have the location secured. Nothing gets in, nothing gets out. They should have all been in the break room at the other end of he buildingl.”

“What about her?” he asked with a gesture to Serena, who seemed to have been forgotten during this exchange. She couldn’t even dignify that with a response, let alone think of anything that wasn’t ‘what the absolute fuck are you guys talking about?’.

“I’ll take care of her,” the ‘medic’ replied. Those ties in her hand were suddenly much more threatening with the looming promise to ‘take care of’ a girl who had seen more than she bargained for. “If AB299 gets a hold of her, it might try to take her back and we’ll have to start from scratch.”

“Who the hell are you people!?” Serena finally cried, slamming her hands on the desk as she forced herself to stand despite the black spots that made her head spin. Her outburst had almost no reaction on either of them, only regarding her with cool indifference. 

The ‘medic’ jerked her head at her partner. “Take care of the witnesses while you’re at it.”

“Understood,” was all he said before leaving the office. 

That just left Serena and the other impersonator alone in the enclosed room, one of the women being at a slightly higher advantage when it came to mental clarity and reflexes at the moment. Unfortunately for Serena, she was also the one with the weird zip ties that were either meant for her wrists or her throat. Both did not sound like very great options. The ‘medic’s eyes lost the warm hospitality that had lulled her in during the interview, replaced now with an icy professionalism that gave way she didn’t care one way or another if a supposed patient was lost on her watch. Especially if it involved seven of them being coworkers who were only trying to help. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Serena,” she started, taking a step forward as Serena took a wobbly one back. 

“Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. To that, the other woman blinked. “You’re…you have something to do with that thing, don’t you? You, you created, or something, or –”

“The only thing I am associated with is the Abnormality Breach & Containment organization. I have nothing to do with AB299’s attachment towards you,” she explained. Ah, so that’s what ABC meant. That cleared absolutely nothing up.

Serena pinched brows. “What’s AB299?”

“An abnormality. Something that’s not meant to exist, but does. That’s its classification serial number.”

Great. Still made fuckall sense.

“I know you’re confused. Honestly, we’re a little confused, too. AB299 has never acted this way before when it would break out to hunt,” She took another step closer. “We’re not sure yet if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

“What are you…talking about?”

The ‘medic’ huffed. “Come on, Serena. Whatever AB299 is, it’s a predator. And you, well, we thought you were prey at first. We never expected you to make it the three days that you did. We never expected you to show up when we thought for sure you were dead.”

She felt her heart hit the floor at such a casual reveal of information. The horror had to be clear on her face as she grappled with so many new layers added to what she was forced to experience for a voyeuristic secret service. Not only had they presumed her dead, not only had they never intervened to save her, but they had known the entire goddamn time she was being hunted and allowed it.

“You…y-you let it go after me.”

“It chose to go after you. We just didn’t stop it,” she clarified. Another step. Serena was backed into a corner. “We needed the research; you have to understand that observing its behavior is how we can learn to keep it better contained.”

“You were going to let me die.”

The other woman didn’t say anything, only leveling her with a heavy gaze. The sacrifice of one to save many, except it wasn’t just one that was passively offered as bait in the name of scientific discovery. How many others had died while ABC looked on and scribbled on their notepads? Was it enough to counter the lives they claimed to have saved as a result? By the sounds of it, AB299 was a routine jailbreaker, so they must not be making too many strides in their confinement regulations.

From her pocket, something beeped sharply. The ‘medic’ paused her advancement to fish for a similar device to what the ‘officer’ had, holding down one of the buttons on the side to answer the channel’s request.

“Building secure, AB299 is definitely around here somewhere, though.”

“What about Jack and the witnesses?”

There was a pause. “Break room’s a fucking bloodbath. Anything that’s left is minced meat. Doesn’t look like anyone made it past the exit sign…Jack included.”

“God damn it,” she growled. “AB299 probably blocked his call…”

“That’s just the job, Alesha. I’ll put in a request for a clean up crew and head back. C Team is four minutes out.”

“I know what the job is. Just, be careful, Adam. It’s in a frenzy and it left the lights on, it doesn’t care about being seen.”

“Understood.”

The radio silenced its sizzling overlay and the ‘medic’, Alesha, pocketed it with a sigh. Her lips were pressed into a tight line when she looked back at Serena, straightening her posture. “You’re not the only person who gets lost during research sometimes. Certain things need to be done, and someone is always going to be the bad guy.”

The conversation was still ringing in Serena’s ears, blocking out whatever moral bullshit Alesha was trying to justify. Bloodbath. Minced meat. That’s all that seven people were given the decency to be referred to after so graciously trying to make sure she was okay when she collapsed in front of them from a closet by calling what they thought was an emergency service number. Seven people who had families and friends and lives, who came to work today like any other, who tried to keep Serena conscious and comfortable until help came, who agreed to stay two hours past their shift at the request of faux police with little complaint under the guise it was in case she had a medical episode. 

And these ABC people let them be fodder for a monster that was predicted to kill her before it deviated from that goal. No, not just that, ‘officer’ Adam had gone there with the exact purpose to get rid of them himself under Alesha’s orders. They might not have even seen anything at that point, had no idea what was going on, and would have died regardless for being a potential liability. Because they knew Serena was alive when she wasn’t supposed to be and had been found in a very odd way in a very odd state. Doomed by proxy out of the goodness of their hearts. All of them could have been spared had they been sent home after their own questioning wrapped up thirty minutes into her examination.

AB299 wasn’t the only predator in this building with her.

“Let’s not make this any harder than it has to be,” Alesha said, holding up the ties. “We’re going to get you out of here and take you somewhere secured. You don’t have to be in any danger.”

“What, are you going to experiment on me, too?” Serena asked incredulously. “You just…you let all of those people die and now you want to dangle me in front of your monster until it, until it fucking does something? Is that it?”

“You cause some very…let’s say, interesting, reactions in AB299’s behavior. There’s something unique about you, Serena, something that might actually work to keep it contained.” Alesha’s tone was losing its evenness, becoming sharper with each argument Serena threw back at her to prolong the inevitable. She was quite good at keeping monsters at bay, it seemed. “Think about what this could mean. Do you know how many people you could save? We can figure this out toge–”

She was also quite good at tricking monsters with a sneak attack to the face. 

The shock blanket was whipped from her shoulders like a magician’s cape and flung at Alesha, blinding her with silver material that tangled around her head and arms as she tried to push it away. While the blanket itself might not be a heavy hitter, Serena’s elbow sure was when she cracked it against the general area that the other woman’s face should have been underneath the fabric. She wasn’t sure what she hit, but it was hard, and it struck her funny bone with enough force to make her fingers go numb. More importantly, it sent Alesha stumbling backwards with a bloodied face and further wrapped up by the very shock blanket she had given to her earlier.

In a flash, she was out the door that Adam really should have locked. Alesha was definitely yelling something, or perhaps just cursing in pain, but her voice faded quickly by the time Serena had sprinted down the hall. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and realize where she was in the building. Somewhere on the west side, near the manufacturing end and distribution offices. It also didn’t help that her vision would swirl every few inhales, unable to keep up with the exertion she was trying to use. Her stomach clenched in pain from the ugly bruise on her abdomen that was aggravated by her heaving diaphragm, her head wasn’t faring much better with her migraine. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and suffer in peace until she felt human again.

That wasn’t an option right now. Somehow, some way, she had been handed an open can of worms and promptly spilled the whole damn thing on herself. What kind of person finds themself mixed up in a world of mystery agents and reality shifting creatures and lives to tell the tale? Maybe lives, she hadn’t made it out of here yet. It wasn’t like she asked to be stalked by a monster who liked to escape ‘secret jail’, much less turn into some sort of special interest for it, which in turn made her a special interest to a lot of other people she had no desire to associate with. 

If she was going to be thrown into the plot of a summer blockbuster, why couldn’t it have been a cheesy romcom instead of an epic sci fi horror? If that was the case, then she’s said it before and she’ll say it again: she wasn’t a token death, she was a motherfucking final girl.

There was the slight issue of running down a hallway of training rooms that Adam was also walking up. He seemed startled to see her and the feeling was mutual. As far as he was concerned, she was meant to be in the office with Alesha monitoring her, bound at the wrists, sitting pretty with the understanding that she was under ABC surveillance for the foreseeable future. Instead, she was none of those things. They both paused in their tracks to silently appraise each other in confusion, which gave enough time for Alesha to catch up a bit from behind.

“Adam, stop her!” she yelled.

That was all the command he needed to snap out of his confusion. He moved towards her, drawing his gun from his holster, probably the only real thing on his police uniform besides the fact it was an amoral douche wearing it. The gun was aimed at her with steady hands and even at the distance, she had no doubt he was a sharp shooter. But she was supposed to be so important to their scheme, wasn’t she? They wouldn’t gun her down, she’d be no use in their stupid mind games to domestic monstrosities then. If he shot her, it would certainly be in one of her limbs to slow her down without the problematic aspect of death. A bullet lodged in her humerus was not something she wanted to deal with on top of everything else that was beating the hell out of her.

She turned heel and ran back up the way she came, ducking into an intersection where some of the hallways converged to make a loop for the front entrance. The side doors required her keycard and, even if she still had it on her, it would have been deactivated this morning per the scheduled end of her internship. Her best bet would be the entry doors, regardless if they were locked up like Adam had declared. There were plenty of plant pots to hurl at the full length windows around them for a messy escape.

Adam had to be hot on her trail, but her dulled senses only allowed her to hyperfocus on her own body. How her heart sounded, how her legs burned, how her sight was tunnel visioned. One thing she did have going for her though was that she was more knowledgeable in the layout of this building than either of the two agents. They may have done their homework, maybe even gotten a full blueprints for WerTech to plan for some cool secret spy getaways, but none of them knew how to find a secret spot to hide for prolonged periods of time like an intern who was wasting thousands of dollars on a degree that wasn’t even being utilized at a job that barely paid. 

There was an alcove where…something used to be some years ago, probably obsolete in this decade now. But within that alcove, there was a closet that couldn’t be seen from around the walls, hidden by the bulk of a drink machine that had been shoved into the open space. She had to grip onto the wall’s trim to help swing her into the nook, concealed from sight in the nick of time. Two pairs of shoes were jogging towards the intersection, Alesha telling Adam to check down this hallway while she went ahead to try and cut her off elsewhere, splitting the sound off to just his patrol boots stomping past her hiding spot.

She took a moment to collect herself. She knew if she slumped down, she wouldn’t have the strength to get back up in her exhausted, disoriented state. With a few deep inhales to fill her lungs, she pushed off the wall and dipped back into the hallway. New plan: retrace her steps back to where she started while the other two were trying to intersect her at the front of the building. And then…she…would come up with part two of that ploy when she got there.

Actually, no she wouldn’t. Because at the end of the hall where all of them had just come from was the creature. AB299, in all its glory.

What a stupid name, she caught herself thinking as if she wasn’t a hen in the foxhouse at the moment, is that supposed to mean there’s, like, two hundred and ninety-eight other monsters being stored at ABC? It didn’t roll off the tongue very nicely. 

To see it under the glow of slightly yellow fluorescent lights was unsettling in a way she didn’t think was possible. In the void of darkness, it blended in as another seamless shadow, only identifiable by its eyes following the movements of its prey. In the full light, though, its shape was clearly defined in crisp lines, ruining the illusion of omnipotence. That didn’t overlook the fact that AB299 was still massive, still crouched on all fours to fit in the building, and still as terrifying as ever with its narrowed eyes and thumping tail.

She was grateful the deep coloring of black helped to hide the blood she was sure its mouth and claws were drenched in. Her heart wouldn’t be able to stand the sight otherwise.

“Son of a bitch…”

It grumbled something unhappy, probably asking why she had left the lovely little plane of unreality it had hidden her to have a mental overload in. Such the unseemly habit of running away from the creature she had. Serena could only stand there, knowing any move she made would send the monster barreling towards her before she could slip its grasp again. The gears were turning in her head for something, anything, but all she was rewarded with was smoke and a wicked throb between her temples. 

On one end, she had an ‘abnormality’ with a strange fixation on her and a penchant for blood, of which hers may or may not be spilt next if she kept testing its patience. On the other end, she had two agents circling nearby, at least one of them with a gun. She wished she could say it was clear who was the lesser of two evils, but at least AB299 was acting on primal instincts as an excuse. Those two were just sociopaths with a warped hero complex.

…and really, if they got to play god over which lives were saved and which ones were bait, then why couldn’t she?

This was stupid. Really, really stupid. Suicidal, even, and definitely unethical enough to get her a first class seat to hell. Arguably, she was already in hell, so she couldn’t imagine anything worse than what she was prepared for. She raised her hands, trying to still the trembles enough that it didn’t look like she was erratically waving.

“H-hey…” she whispered, her throat suddenly dry and wishing she had drank that water on the desk when she had the chance. 

AB299 responded with another growl, a little less irked, and tilted its head.

She gulped. Too late to back down now. “C…come here,” she gestured her open hands towards herself. “Come follow me.”

She took two steps back. The monster lunged. 

Automatically, she stumbled a few more feet back with a frightened squeal. It took every ounce of her self control to plant her feet firmly on the ground to avoid the flight or fight instinct screaming at her to run. Her arms were raised again, as if she would physically be able to stop the creature that filled the space previously between them in two pounces.

“Stop, stop! Not chase!” she shrieked and by some miracle, AB299 heeded her cry before it closed in on the last five feet before her. “Not chase. Follow. Okay? Can you follow? Can you…do you know what I’m saying?”

It rumbled, eyes hooded in apprehension of what she was asking it to do, but at least no longer glaring. Taking that to be some kind of affirmation, Serena started to walk backwards again with her arms still up to signal the need for distance. Much to her surprise, despite the fact that was the intended goal, AB299 obediently crawled at what had to be an agonizingly slow pace in order to stay her requested distance as she walked. She had no idea how long she’d be able to keep this up for, hopefully long enough that she’d have a new exit strategy in mind should the creature grow bored of this game of Simon Says.

Alesha was right; it behaved strangely around her. If she had to guess, it was only listening to her now because it thrived under the positive reinforcement of her company. If it stayed and heeled as she asked, she wouldn’t go running off, and then there would be a mutual exchange where she also wouldn’t go running off the next time it spirited her away. Which was a term in their agreement she did not concur, by the way. 

“Little more,” she said, just to ensure she still had its interest. It crooned softly. “That’s a good, uh…well, just…good.”

She could hear the squeak of rubber soles on linoleum drawing closer to her from the hallway’s left opening. Her bet was Adam, given that he would have been closer to rush back once he heard Serena making her commotion. She wondered if AB299 heard him approaching as well, if that was a prowess it possessed, or if it was simply too consumed with admiring her to pay it much mind. Her throat tightened at the thought of what she was orchestrating, knowing it was the only way out she’d make it out somewhat in one piece. Cruel violence didn’t solve cruel violence, but she tried to trick her conscious that this was merely karma in play. It’s not like she was directly ordering the creature to maim, she just…happened to lure it into a scenario that it would make that decision itself. 

“You’re…you’re going to keep me safe, right?” she asked. It felt akin to a little girl asking her teddy bear for reassurance that it would chase away her bad dreams, except this teddy bear was one of the boogeymen from her closet. There was no telling what the creature ultimately wanted with her, whether it meant her harm in the long run or not. For the time being, she had to trust that its possessiveness equated to wanting her alive and mostly unscathed. 

The consequences of baiting a monster with an unhealthy attachment could be dealt with at a later time that was more convenient, such as never. 

Adam rounded the corner with his gun raised in preparation to threaten her into surrendering, if not to go ahead and take the shot to save everyone the trouble of her getting loose again. Really, if she had a quarter for every time she was being chased around WerTech by someone who was pissed she wouldn’t stop running away from an obligation she had no say in accepting, she’d have a worrying amount of quarters since that number should be zero for most people. She turned to see him realize his mistake too late. He froze, finger on the trigger but knowing it would be useless against the creature. AB299 snarled at the brandished weapon putting its prized prey in danger, practically making the hallway vibrate from its intensity. 

Serena dropped to the floor as the creature sprung over her to slam itself on the new threat. The agent cried out, but he wasn’t able to form any words that would be his last, all of the air squeezed out of him when claws dug into his chest. There wasn’t time to waste in being awed and sickened by the ferocity AB299 was capable of. The aftermath of its maulings were horrific enough, she didn’t need a full viewing to learn how it was made. With the creature distracted and one ABC agent permanently handled, she scrambled back up before her legs turned to jelly and disappeared down the opening on the right. She could hear the crunch of bone, the wet splatter of meat striking a solid surface, the groans and gurgles of a dying man. She didn’t look back. 

Following down this hall, she would be able to cut across the rotunda and loop back to the main hallway that offered a straight shot to the entrance. She begged her legs to push harder, ignoring how even at half-speed they were threatening to go numb if she forced them another step further. Who knew how long the creature would busy itself with devouring a man as an affectionate sign of protection. Once it had its fill in flinging the remains around, or perhaps noticed her missing first, the hunt would be back on. Would it be angered by the betrayal of her leaving after she tricked it into thinking they’d reached a mutual agreement? Would it think this was all part of the game and eager to continue? She’d rather not find out. She'd rather go home and sit in her shower for four and a half days. 

On her way down the familiar hall, she made note of the few areas that were sealed away under blue tarps and yellow caution tape. Black scorch marks around the edges of the room indicated fire damage, but she already knew that wasn’t the case. The storage room, the finance office – these were areas she had the most interactions with AB299 last week, areas that had been torn up by said creature in its chase. Pyrotechnic powers didn’t sound accurate, which meant these fires had been intentionally started to hide any unexplained damage. To hide the fact that Serena was missing, taken alive but presumed dead. They covered up her death and made sure no one would ask questions to mourn her.

She hoped every last scumbag at ABC choked. 

Being able to run down the main hallway without being impeded by scattered furniture felt like a luxury. She hadn’t realized what she took for granted in moving along a straight path during a life or death situation. Even though she was counting on this being the last time she would ever have to flee in this damn building. The only thing she needed to be mindful of was the bunches of tarp that poked a little ways out on the floor from where they draped over windows to block a room’s interior. Up ahead, she could see more fire burnings on the floor from where a flame had licked quite far from the doorway, though it didn’t like the room it trailed back to was sectioned off for remodeling. 

That was because, as she got closer, it wasn’t scorch marks. It was blood, already darkening to a deep rusty color and smeared much like Ted’s had been when his corpse was dragged off. Except this streak only went a couple feet out before stopping with a single handprint showing that the person had been pulled back into the very room they were escaping. The break room, more precisely. The room her former coworkers had been corralled into and guarded by another fake officer named Jack to keep them from leaving, where they were trapped on all sides when AB299 came to attack.

She shouldn’t have looked, she knows she shouldn’t look, but her eyes followed the trail of red before she could stop herself in shock. Adam had been right when he said it was a bloodbath; the inside looked as if a blender full of meat had gone off without a lid. The floor, the walls, the ceiling – every square inch was covered in a thick splattering of viscera that still dripped into puddles below. The tables and chairs were overturned as the monster wrecked havoc and people tried to get out of its path with no success. There weren’t even any bodies in the sea of gore, not like how a good portion of Ted had been left. All she could see were bits of flesh, a few clumps of hair, a single finger or heel of a shoe that still had a partial foot inside. 

There was virtually nothing left of these people, nothing but blood that mixed together and coated the room in bitter smelling scarlet. She had no idea which of her seven coworkers had been present to begin with, leaving her with no way of knowing who she should feel sorrow for. It was likely that no one else would know either as there was barely anything in the gore to identify one chunk of yellow fat from another. How long did the massacre last, how long did they have to watch each other be torn apart by a creature that only existed in nightmares, all because they happened to still be in the building when Serena magically appeared? She wasn’t sure what was making her more nauseous right now, the crime scene or the guilt.

Whether it was because she was disturbingly growing desensitized to copious amounts of carnage done in her wake or because her mind had already blocked the memory as a trauma response, her only reaction was to stumble back with a pained whimper. No tears were shed, not yet. She couldn’t afford to fall to her knees and wail in horror when she was so close to walking out the front doors. Or through a broken window, it didn’t matter to her. Then she could run and scream and sob to her heart’s content as she found a place to hunker down away from secret agents and giant monsters. She sniffled, clenching her first to her mouth in case she needed to bite down and muffle a cry, but the wave of anguish passed over her to be safely compartmentalized and never touched upon again if she had any say in it.

She’d only made it a few steps forward when a body ran into her back, nearly toppling both of them to the ground. Her surprise mixed with the lingering shock she was still experiencing, allowing her attacker to get the upper hand and wrap their arms around her to pin her to them. After a second, her brain caught up to her motor functions and ordered her to flail her limbs to break free of the hold, but it was too late. Something pinched the skin at the junction of her collar and shoulder, turning into a slight burning sensation as it plunged down into the muscle. She gasped, a warm feeling suddenly spreading through her veins that made her body involuntarily relax. Her arms dropped down from where she had tried to claw at the person’s face despite her protest, her legs finally making good on their threat to be as useful as rubber noodles. 

Interestingly, her head finally cleared of throbbing colors that flashed in her vision and she sighed in relief. What an unexpectedly blissful feeling that was coursing through her, almost as if she took a double dose of muscle relaxers and then dove into a hot tub. But as wonderful as her body felt, her brain was screaming at her this was wrong, so wrong, loud enough that she could still hear its warnings through the fuzzy euphoria of no longer wanting to split her head open. She groaned out some kind of noise, her throat and tongue refusing to work together, not that she was too sure what she had actually been trying to say. 

She lazily followed the forearm braced across her chest with her eyes and saw at the end that a fist was holding a syringe, the needle still stabbed into her skin and all of its contents already pumped into her. She’d been drugged; poisoned or sedated she didn’t know, but it wasn’t good either way. There was hardly any coordination left in her to slap her hands around or jerk her shoulders to dislodge whoever was keeping her in place.

“We could have done this the easy way, Serena,” a voice hissed in her ear. Alesha. That bitch. 

“Fff…f’ck ‘ou…” she slurred.

“I told them we should have taken you in when we first got here, you wouldn’t have put up such a fight then,” Alesha continued, more so talking to herself as the girl in her arms couldn’t formulate the most coherent replies at the moment. “And speak of the devil…”

She turned to face down the hall, Serena forced to move with her, to look at the creature poised at the other end. It growled lowly, its back arched in preparation to charge, only held back by the fact its prey was entangled with each other. Instead, it stalked forward, claws digging into the floor as it did while its tail whipped back and forth in displeasure, striking the walls each time with a resounding crack of plaster. All the while, it snarled and glowered at Alesha in warning to release what it had claimed as its own, but she held firm. The closer it got, the more clearly Serena could see the body hanging from its bared fangs, if it could still even be called that. Once it deemed itself close enough, it flicked its eyes to Serena and dropped the remains, a sickening squish when they landed before her. She could make out half of an intact spinal cord, flesh and fat looking like it had been used as chewing gum, but what part of human anatomy that was meant to formerly be was anyone’s best guess.

Behind her, she could make out Alesha muttering something about Adam being a poor bastard. She desperately wanted to thrash and kick up as violent of a fuss as she could, anything to wriggle out of her arms and maybe throw another elbow in her face. If she could play up her antics, she might have been able to goad AB299 into attacking the other agent as soon as she slipped from her grasp, but there was no way she had the functionality to do that. She also just wanted to cry and have the fit of crisis she was damn well entitled to by now. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to be absconded by a man eating monster. She didn’t want to be taken away for studies and experimentations for the man eating monster. 

But she’d lost. She hadn’t escaped in time, and now she wouldn’t be escaping at all. Whatever happened to her next was out of her control seeing that she couldn’t even lift her arm all the way up to smack against Alesha’s. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair! She’d worked so hard all her life to get to where she was today, busted her ass in school and at this stupid job, defied all the odds of survival against an unknown creature, and for what? For nothing. The life she built for herself was taken from her before she could even fully enjoy the fruits of her labor, all by someone else’s decision. 

“I’ll be sure C Team grabs your gift for you,” Alesha said with disdain, crinkling her broken nose in disgust of what became of her colleague. 

Serena felt herself be dragged backwards as Alesha took slow, deliberate steps towards the very entrance she’d been so close to reaching, the agent careful to readjust her grip and avoid showing her back to AB299. She mentioned that it was time for all of them to go, giving faux praise to the monster as it followed without attacking, promising that sweet little Serena would be coming with it so there was no need to get too hostile. Her words sounded muffled despite being held to the agent’s body, like she was talking underwater, which made sense since she herself felt like she was floating. She whimpered again, never taking her eyes off the creature that trailed after her like a puppy. Her pathetic noise made it croon.

The entry doors opened with the chattering and footfalls of a dozen people, but Serena was too focused on the feeling of cold air on her cheeks. 

–

END OF SIXTH NIGHT

–

Conclusion

Both Abnormality and Boyd were successfully captured and returned to ABC for containment.

The scene of the breakroom rampage was altered and ascribed to Ted Milton, a disgruntled employee, who returned to commit a mass casualty in retaliation and took his own life afterwards. 

Victims’ families were given a large insurance payout and fully covered funerals to avoid private autopsies

News of the event was not circulated into media outside of county newspapers

–

BEHAVIOR OBSERVATION RESULTS

The following information has been updated in AB299’s file:

Management Capability: Mid-Low

Intelligence Capability: High

Dimensional planes confirmed to be how Abnormality travels between spaces and possibly where it originated from.

Abnormality can only conjure these doorways in spaces of total darkness. If possible, it will trigger a blackout to achieve this.

Abnormality is not weakened by natural or artificial light.

As of now, Boyd is the only recorded human to have access to this space

Note: Electronic devices, such as cameras or recorders, do not work when taken between planes; researchers must find a way to observe inner reality

Per Boyd’s testimonial regarding the planes, it can be concluded that –

Time in nonlinear

Colors beyond human receptors are present

Humans possess the ability to open doors back into reality from Abnormality’s dimension [Ability to be reverse engineered in future testing]

The Courtship Theory has been reopened and is currently being revised in light of Boyd’s survival.

–

Picture Left [ID - Picture of Serena Boyd taken after her arrival and assessment at ABC facility. She has been allowed to groom and change her clothes. She is not smiling.]

Utilization of Serena Boyd

Abnormality continues to show fascination for Boyd without causing harm. As such, Boyd is required to be kept in good health and in frequent contact with Abnormality.

If Abnormality believes she is being observed too much by researchers, it will hide her in dimensional planes. Boyd is typically found within the facility two to four days later.

Boyd is to be interviewed immediately after being recovered and watched until her vitals are stable for best results of understanding Abnormality’s dimension.

Boyd is to go no longer than four days without interaction with Abnormality. Failure to do so may result in a facility breach. DO NOT ALLOW HER TO DECLINE, USE SEDATION IF NECESSARY. 

Do not forcibly remove Boyd from Abnormality’s containment; Abnormality will attack.

Do not use physical violence with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.

Do not engage inappropriate contact with Boyd in Abnormality’s presence; Abnormality will attack.

Do not inform Boyd of Abnormality’s response behaviors to her distress, this may be used against ABC personnel. 

Do not allow Boyd outside of Sector 17 to minimize risk of escape.

Abnormality has shown to continue breaching containment to hunt, however it is now returning on its own accord if Boyd is left in its containment cell. 

- Additional funding may be required to discover how the usage of Boyd could prevent hunting breaches entirely

–

FINAL NOTES

Full experiment results and research can be found on archived tapes relating to AB299 and Boyd. Research between the two will continue until Abnormality’s potential has been unlocked for ABC control, or Boyd is killed.

Access and travel through dimensional planes is of top priority.

THE GENERAL PUBLIC IS NOT TO BE INFORMED OF THESE ONGOING INVESTIGATIONS AND FINDINGS. ANY THREAT TO ABC’S SECURITY IN OPERATIVE RESEARCH WILL BE DEALT WITH AT THE HIGHEST LEVEL. THIS INCLUDES AIDING AND ABETTING THE DECAMP OF RESEARCH DETAINEES.

DO NOT ALLOW SERENA BOYD INTO POPULACE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

–

End of tape. 

Please continue with CS# 1789-64 at supervisor’s instruction.