#but they seem now like they could be qualities of the yarn

[icterid-rubus]

Baby pants! Pants, for babies!! I promised myself I wouldn’t knit anything without a snap crotch, but this pattern was recommended on reddit by a parent, so I figured I’d give it a chance. The waist and cuffs are meant to fold up and down so it can fit a wide range of ages.

[vinylfoxbooks]

August 27 - Magazine  | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 540 Not super Jegulus centered but...

James picked up knitting and crocheting because it's something relatively mindless that occupies their hands. They don't do it at school or outside of the dorms (though it would help them get through their classes) aside from the occasional quidditch game they attend (though they usually get more distracted by the plays) because there's the whole thing where 'masculine people shouldn't do girly things like crocheting' and 'if you knit, you must be an old woman' and they don't want to have that spread around.

That being said, ever since they took up crochet and knitting, their childhood friend Remus has been the subject of many of their projects. Yes, they make things for themself -- especially in later years when they start experimenting with mesh shirts and layered clothing -- but the main person they make for is Remus.

James makes all of Remus's sweaters. They memorised a bunch of patterns that they know he likes, and they work with him to figure out colours that Remus wants. It's to the point where all of the sweaters and sweater vests in Remus' trunk were made by James, with the exception of one or two that friends have bought him, and Remus loves their sweaters. They're comfortable, made of a soft yarn, fit him just right no matter what, and they're more Remus than any store bought ones he can find (not to mention free, good quality sweaters aren't cheap and James lives making them for him).

Needless to say, whenever someone makes fun of Remus' sweaters or him for wearing them, he's always going to James to comfort them because they take any insults to their creations as an insult to them. There have been times when Remus has had to physically force James' hook or needles into their hands for them to pick up the hobby that they love so much again.

James' friends have just come to accept it, cone to understand that James is still paying attention to them even when it seems like they're focused on whatever project they're working on -- Remus and Regulus, after they started dating, will carry around balls of yarn, scissors, and a set of James' favourite sizes of hooks and needles in case they need a breather and they don't have their current WIP.

They make their friends things too, usually fun tank tops and amigurumis for the girls (skirts and dresses after Lily finds an old woman's pattern magazine for them), hair accessories for Sirius, random things that Pete, Barty, and Evan ask for. For Regulus, they've made him a sweater once but decided that they only want to make those for Remus, they'll make crochet flowers and blankets for him (because he's always cold) and Regulus loves it.

It just becomes a fact that James does fiber art, they love making things, and they now have a large audience for them to make for (which was always a struggle, they make things much faster than Remus could need them).

They later find out that Remus still has some of the first things that they made: ill-fitted, wonky things with weird tension that are falling apart both due to use and an inexperienced creator. That fact alone makes their heart swell.

[lotstradamus]

inspired by the manchester anon haha but do you have any tips and suggestions for visiting leeds? 🩷

I've lived here for 2 years now (!!!) but somehow I still don't really know my way around and just go to the same 5 places and use google maps to get anywhere else. it's sad. but here's some shit I love:

Grindhouse - cheap drinks, loads and loads of seats, never too full, music a reasonable volume, and they project 80s movies on the back wall. we once sat in here for 2 hours cos Stand By Me was on. one time we watched the bar staff earnestly tell a group of women on a hen do that the bar was closed and they weren't serving any more drinks, at 7:45pm. 10/10.

Rudy's - only 9 cities* in this fair nation have a Rudy's, so I'm going to keep reccing it for everyone else. perfect Neapolitan pizza. *Leeds, Manchester, Sheffield, Birmingham, Nottingham, Durham, London, York, Liverpool - if you live in one of these places and haven't been to Rudy's yet, sort it out.

Neon Cactus - go here on a Wednesday and order wings, and you'll get half price margs. lots of great Mexican scran. don't take anyone too picky or over 50, because the price for the great food and vibes is that at least one thing you order will be incorrect. but roll with it. half price margs, man.

Empire Cafe - book in advance if you want to sample the delights of Empire Cafe, cos there's like 6 tables max. everything is seasonal, changes on the daily, and is insanely delicious. if you want to experience heaven, order the steak and chips with salsa verde. there is NOTHING like it.

Stuzzi - another seasonal, small plate sort of place, but Italian. amazing food and a gorgeous restaurant. go with a big group and order one of everything.

Eat Your Greens - ANOTHER seasonal restaurant! this one is farm-to-fork and organic. I can’t speak to the quality as I haven’t actually been, but I am a frequenter of their GREENGROCER, which is MEGA. last time I think I left with natty wine, pâté, some insane tinned fish, a jar of harissa and a bag of sunset potatoes. if you like food, go here.

SARTO - fresh, handmade pasta and picky bits. another great place to go with a group and order all the starters. I had a celeriac pasta there last year that I think about on a fairly regular basis; I picked it cos it was the weirdest sounding thing on the menu and it was fucking mouthwatering. good quality and good people! and it's next door to The Wardrobe, so perfect for a pre-gig tea.

Santiago Bar - like Grindhouse (alternative, casual) but the music is louder and you'll find yourself doing tequila shots at 1am and screaming along to, like, Don Broco. it's the best.

Blue Collar Boys - as a rule I hate 'vintage' clothes shops (overpriced, ugly, everything is XXS), but this place seems to specialise solely in American t-shirts and sweatshirts from the 90s in exactly my size, and everything is £10. this is amazing and a huge bargain if you find something like vintage Wranglers and a Playboy bomber jacket (£20, my wife) but not so amazing or a bargain if you find 3 t-shirts with holes in (£30, me). we've never been without finding shit we love. they only open on random weekends, and they always seem to have more stuff than they could possibly ever sell. it's a freaky vintage alternate universe.

The Corn Exchange - a big gorgeous ol' building full of little businesses. vintage, handmade, tattoos, coffee, jewellery, independent brands, yarn, shoes, a barbers, a bookshop, they've got it all. very easy to spend £100 and 6 hours. every so often they have a market on the bottom floor. perfect tiny representation of Leeds: quirky, independent, delicious, cool.

Silver's Deli - this is a 9-minute train ride away in Bramley (my ends!) but has become THEE buzzy foodie spot recently. go on a sunny saturday morning (cos you will probably have to sit outside) and order the everything sandwich. thank me later. if they have scotch eggs or sausage rolls on, I beseech you, order both. and if you want the sunday special prepare to get there at 11 and fight.

Against the Grain - if you've come to Bramley for Silver's, you may as well trundle 10 minutes up the road and visit the best bar in Leeds. cosy, casual, full of locals, hidden in Swinnow Mills. it's a sit-around-and-chat-to-people sort of place, with bonus charcuterie boards AND a pizza van on weekends. we are here A LOT, because Gray's Salon and Rose and Thorn Tattoo are both in the Mill, and we give them all our money. oh! and dog friendly. sooo many dogs.

Project House/Galleria - if you've gotten the train out to Bramley for Silver's and ATG, jump on the 72 back to town and get off at Project House to eat MORE food. Galleria is a great place to get breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and Project House has EVERYTHING (depending on the day). yoga! gigs! vintage fairs! a bi-annual tattoo convention meets makers market with food vendors called Hand of Glory! check what's on and head on down to support local!

Kirkstall Bridge Inn - another one local(ish) to me, but worth travelling out of town for; a PROPER pub (i.e. no tv, no sports, no shite) that does roasts upstairs and lets dogs in downstairs. outdoor seating right by the canal, and every so often they put something on and the car park turns into a tiny festival. Kirkstallpalooza is a highlight. great place to finish a nice canal walk (who am I?!).

tl;dr sorry that this is obnoxiously long, I love Leeds

[sergle]

speaking of yarn ive been meaning to ask since ive heard of it elsewhere, is the general quality of yarn you can get going down? ive been looking into fibercraft but ive been told its getting harder and harder to find actual good thread without some sort of plastic in it, especially for a good price. so ive been wondering is this true or was it made out to be a much larger problem than it really is (in your experience)?

i've only been into crochet for a couple of years, so i'm not a Fiber Arts Veteran who can tell you the difference between shopping for supplies now vs 30 years ago! i don't really have anything to compare Current Yarns to. in my experience, the only thing i can speak on is cost, and it seems like the cost for yarn has probably been going up. animal fibers are certainly more expensive, acrylic yarns are budget-friendly but are synthetic, if that's something you're worried abt.

so i don't think that stuff is Untrue, but i also don't think it's any reason at all to avoid getting into fiber arts, and you can absolutely find yarns made from cotton / wool / bamboo fiber and stuff like that for good prices! it would probably be harder in-person, like in the aisles of a hobby lobby. but i think lion brand and lovecrafts are good sites to browse for yarn/supplies. it's really not a small-scale problem, someone like moi who's recently gotten into crochet and does it for funsies based on my whims/needs isn't going to really notice, i don't think. as an aside, if we're talking about crochet specifically, you can really crochet with anything at all- i've been making a tote bag out of plastic grocery bags, lmao. reduce reuse recycle or whatever. people will also use strips of fabric instead of yarn, and that's good for stuff like rugs / bags / baskets, chunkier projects. (though ig you could probably make some clothing if you cut the strips of fabric thin enough.) so as far as accessibility to the craft, there is that!

[timelessmulder]

31 Days of Horror: Needles

Tucked away in one of the rented community rooms in Weston Library, the Skein-Tastic group met bimonthly. That's twice a month, their leader, Hannah Arnold (proud PTA attendee and member of the town council) reminded them every time. An ancient running joke among its oldest members, woven into the fabric that made the group whole, a gentle ribbing of a long forgiven mistake that made Daryl feel like an outsider.

She sat in a corner with her knitting project - a duck themed set of mittens for her mother - with shoulders curled around her ears. It was her third month of attending, the sixth meeting overall, and her courage to speak to the others flicked. It faltered. So from her perch in a beaten, worn down faux-leather arm chair, she watched. The established members, all six of them, chattered as they worked, in harmony with the clicking of their wooden knitting needles.

Required knitting needles. Right there in bold print on the flyer pasted on the library bulletin board. She glanced at the cheap ones she'd bought at Michaels before joining, then back up at the others.

It wasn't that the group was unfriendly. They always spared a cheerful word when she showed up, ask her how she was. How school was, once they found out she was attending the local university. It was simply that she was the outsider looking in, at least for now. They did have good gossip, at least, and she could be a fly on the wall.

She fell back into the lull of knitting, listening to the others talk: about school life, the outrageous things going on in their families. She was sure some of it was fake, or at least embellished, much in the way stories shared on Reddit were almost always pieces of fiction.

"How're you enjoying the group?"

The voice made her jump, almost dropping her needles. Clearing her throat, trying to hide how embarrassed she was, Daryl adjusted her grip and turned to the woman who had taken a seat on the bench nearest to her. The woman, older, middle aged, gave the soft laugh of the slightly apologetic. She pawed through the rotary of names for people she'd met in the town so far, trying to stitch a name to the face.

"Mrs. Fields! Uhm, yes. Sorry, I'm still...new." She cringed at how lame she sounded.

"Call me Mel," she said with a wave of her hand. In her other she clutched her project, a sweater that seemed to Daryl to be nearing completion. The yarn she used was dark, deep enough to make seeing the stitches difficult, but the more Daryl looked the more she swore that there was something shifting in the cabling, and it wasn't because of a reflective quality to the yarn. "Daryl, was it?"

"Yeah."

Mel Fields' smile widened from something polite, the kind that was reserved for mothers meeting their children's friends, to something more open. A little wicked, Daryl thought, in the ways of people passing secrets. "It's fantastic you've decided to join us," she said. "We've been trying to get younger members for ages."

"There's a knitting group at school," Daryl said. She shifted in her seat, adding, "I found it too overwhelming." Music and loud chatter and she didn't understand why anyone went to something like that for crafting. She poked her head in for one meeting, and then left almost as quickly.

"I understand," Mel said. "But anyway, we got you a welcoming gift. We would have given it to you sooner, but we weren't sure if you were going to stick around."

Daryl watched her set her sweater down in her lap (it was definitely moving, within the black and purple and deep crimson) and reaching into her purse. From it, she pulled out a set of knitting needles, wooden. Hand carved and tied together with a vibrant red ribbon.

"Sorry they're just the one size," she said, handing them over to Daryl. "We didn't want to seem too eager to keep your around." She winked.

Daryl didn't speak for a long moment, turning the gift over in her hands, almost afraid that she was going to break them. She paused over a line of carved letters, belonging to an alphabet unlike any she'd seen before. It was all swoops and dips like cursive, dots and crosses. Her fingers traced them, felt the skill of the woodworker and a strange warmth that pulsed beneath her fingertips.

"What's this?" she asked, her brows furrowing.

"Oh that?" Mel craned her neck to get a look herself, somewhere between admiring the work herself and pretending she hadn't seen the letters before. "It's just a little protection spell. Don't worry too much about it, honestly." Something shimmered in her eyes, and the room fell quiet. "We do things a little differently here."

"Are you going to kill me?" Daryl said in a rush of breath, and embarrassment crashed over her like a wave for having said it in the first place.

"What? God, no, at the library?" Mel laughed, and the other women who had decided the best way to spend their time was to eavesdrop chuckled with her. "No no, Daryl. Think of it like... An initiation."

"...for what? The knitting club?"

"Something like that." She pursed her lips, cat who got the canary pleased. "We have big plans here, and we'd love for you to join us."

Daryl blinked. She looked at the women in the room, all watching her with curiosity. She looked passed them to the door, where light from the library spilled through the blinds hanging over the glass door and windows. A straight shot, if she wanted to leave, almost an invitation.

She looked back at Mel.

She looked at Hannah, who's brows were raised and a soft upward quirk to her lips.

"I don't have anything else to do on a Saturday," she said with a shrug. "Why not?"

The air in the room shifted, like something in the earth itself had heard her words and accepted them. Daryl blinked, and went right back to knitting.

[gamebunny-advance]

Kun3h0 Custom Doll Repaint

So, here's what I've been working on for the past month or so. I've wanted to do a custom doll project for a long time now, and I finally got the opportunity to actually do it. I don't think she's bad for a first doll, but there's a lot I feel I could do better and differently.

Once again, my pictures hardly do her any justice... mostly due to color balancing.

I tried to edit these pics to make them a little more accurate, but it also yellowed out everything else, so... yeah. A photographer/image editor I am not.

That said, aside from the poor quality of the images, I'd say that the pics capture both her good points and her jank.

(More about the process and other thoughts under the cut.)

So, she started with a Cave Club doll as the base (I believe her name was Fernessa).

I unfortunately didn't take any pics of this doll with her clothes on, but I'm sure you can search pics of the original base doll yourself.

Besides being very cheap, I really liked the proportions on this doll for Kun3h0. I like the short torso with the long legs and the huge feet. Even the face is kinda Kun3h0-esque (though, a little more on that later).

I've had the idea to customize a Kun3h0 doll for a while, and I always thought the best base would have been an LOL OMG doll since they also have the big head, small torso, and long legs. But, I was always on the fence about them because their hips are a lot wider than Kun3h0's, and I felt like that would always bother me. But once I found out about Cave Club and also found out they're bascially cheap as dirt for the amount of articulation you get, I knew that this was the best match for Kun3h0.

Sadly, the hands aren't as big, and I did consider resculpting them to be more accurate to Kun3h0, but I lack the materials to make that look good enough to be worth doing, so in the end I just repainted the original hands. So I guess this doll is gonna have the non-standard 5-fingers XP. (I forgot to take pics, but the back of the hands do have the heart detail on them. )

Because I have to tie this back to NSR somehow, I think this doll would be a great base for some NSR characters, or really any other stylized character like this. I could def see a cute Mayday coming out of one of these (but not from me~ If I made a Mayday, then I'd want to make a Zuke to go with her, and I just cannot imagine how to make a Zuke doll without him becoming way too top-heavy).

However, I did resculpt the legs to become her boots, so she stands a little taller than the base Cave Club. While I think doing this works for Kun3h0 since she's a robot, if I want to make some alternate outfits for her, they're gonna have to include these boots, or I'm gonna have to get another doll to make some alternate legs.

Unfortunately, my only material I have for body mods is air-dry paper clay, and it doesn't transition as well into the plastic the same way something like apoxie sculpt probably would have. It's not super noticeable at a distance when they're painted, but under scrutiny, you can see a clear transition. I also forgot to detail her heel, so the shoes are flat even though they shouldn't be~ They do help her to stand on her own though, so I guess it's not the worst thing in the world~

While I was doing the sculpting, I also made the wig.

Finding a yarn that would properly convey Kun3h0's hair color is nigh impossible, given the cartoony shading of them, so I settled for a median between the dark rasperry and hot pink and got this regular raspberry yarn. The unaltered pics make it look a little more purple than it actually is. It really is a warm raspberry color.

(I'd say that this is closer to the actual color, maybe a tad darker.)

Let me tell y'all, brushing out yarn wefts is not fun. I also felt like I wasn't doing it right since I lost a lot of material brushing it out. From the little research I did, this seems to be a common problem, but it doesn't sit right with me for so much of it to get wasted like that~

Another challenge I had is that there (of course) aren't very many resources for getting yarn wefts curly or how to make curly hairstyles using yarn wefts. I know that this is relatively easy to achieve with actual doll hair through boil washing, but that wasn't really a viable option for a yarn wig like this. Since I really wanted the hair to look naturally curly as opposed to looking like it was curled after the fact, I curled the hair before gluing it onto the wig cap, which was a mini-nightmare. I followed a video tutorial about how to make a pigtails wig, I just applied the methods to the curly hair.

I don't know if I just didn't make enough wefts to make the tails poofy enough, or if this method just wasn't suited for curly hair, but I just didn't get the volume I was looking for.

To achieve the fuller look that Kun3h0's puffs have, I glued some scrap yarn fluff in the center of the original puffs and just tried to manage the shape from there. It's not perfect, but I think I've more or less brought her original hair to life. It's hard to see since they get lost in the mess of hair, but I was even able to get those stray curls that she has to look nice~

However, for some reason, the wig really doesn't like to stay on. I dunno if it's the ears pushing it off, or if something else makes it loose, but it really doesn't like to stay on her head. I might try applying heat to the cap to see if I can get it to reshape around her head properly, but I don't have high hopes for that.

Overall, having made the wig and seen it in real life, I've confirmed something that I've kinda felt for a while: Kun3h0 really needs something on her head between her antenna. I feel like her antenna and the top of her head create a sort of "empty box" that is just asking to be filled with something. I recently did a drawing of Kun3h0 where I have her an ahoge, and I think it helps a lot.

It's a little too late to add this to the doll (and I don't even know how I'd go about it), but I think from now on, she's gonna have a curl that sticks up on the top of her head.

Moving on: the face.

I really wish I could get some clearer pictures here, because the eyes really aren't as bad as the pics make them look.

While I am trying to keep her right covered as much as possible, I did still paint both of them with acrylics. I don't have MSC or watercolor pencils like most of the pros do, so I made use of what I had. I'm certainly not getting that "crisp lineart" look that Kun3h0 is basically built on, but I don't think the results are horrible. They're sealed with a gloss varnish, so they don't photograph well, but I do like how the texture is very different from the skin, it almost sells that they're made of glass.

As for the other details, I did do the lining in dark purple, like I usually do for her lineart. I'm on the fence on if this works IRL or not. On the one hand, I feel like the purple lineart is a part of the character design, it helps balance out all the pinks, but when I only use the purple on the doll for the face (and her stomach paneling), I do wonder if it looks strange, and if I would have been better off lining her with dark brown instead.

In fact, I did the original sketch with brown for the paneling.

(Right eye not canon.)

But when I made the actual doll, I wound up doing purple anyway to match the eyelashes, so they wouldn't look as out of place.

Other details I wanted to mention are that the upper eyelashes/eyelid is actually a piece of painted foam that I glued on. I really wanted to achieve that cartoony look of how I usually draw the lashes over her hair, even if it doesn't make logical sense.

I wasn't able to do the same thing for the brows, but I still did something a little "special" with them.

Instead of making myself cry trying to get an accurate color-match with paint, her eyebrows are actually flocked using some of the leftover yarn. I've hardly seen anyone do this for a doll repaint, but I don't think this look would suit most brows anyway~

Overall, I'm only a *little* unsatisfied by the face-up, but my disappointment is mostly in the eye-shape. I didn't want to go against the face mold too much, but that meant that I couldn't really make the eye taller like Kun3h0's actually are. If the eye was any taller, the brows would have been right against the hairline, and that wouldn't be a great look IMO. I feel like 80% of Kun3h0's identity is in her face, so having it be even a little inaccurate does bring her down a little.

Lastly, I think all that's left to talk about is clothes and accessories.

I am personally really in love with the shorts and it's why I chose them to be the preview for this project. I added the beltloops after I took that pic, and I think they turned out so cute, even if you can see the stitching of the belt to the shorts.

I went through quite a few patterns trying to get them right. The Cave Club dolls don't seem to be super popular in customizer circles, so there aren't many if any patterns out there for them. At first I was just eyeballing a shorts pattern from this video and going through some trial and error trying to adapt them to the doll's body.

I made 3 or 4 pairs of shorts this way, but they all ended up too tight. In the end, I wound up using the "wrap-and-tape" method of pattern making, and made the shorts from there. I honestly wasn't too confident in the results, so I very haphazardly made the trial pair with this new pattern, but they fit so great that I wound up using the test shorts for the final product.

The top was not as successful. Unlike the shorts, I didn't start making test tops until I'd already done the wrap and tape. So the pattern making wasn't actually the hardest part: it was putting it together that was a nightmare.

While I was making the top, I would of course have Kun3h0 put it on to test the fit, which stretched out the fabric to a noticeable degree. This was one of the last things I worked on, so I was getting really fed up with working on this for so long, so I told myself that I would probably just hide it with paint later.

That was mistake number 1.

As I should have learned from painting Green's face, the paint hardened the fabric tremendously, giving it almost no stretch. Originally the plan was to use velcro to close the top in the back, but the pattern didn't account for the lack of stretch, so it's actually too small to close edge to edge. So, I had to cut velcro to extend beyond the actual clothes to close it up. So basically, there's a gaping hole in the back of her outfit and is the main reason why I refuse to post back pictures of this doll.

For the time being, I do consider this top to be a "prototype" and I'll probably remake it in the future with some improvements. But, painting the fabric after stitching it together is not the only mistake I made.

Since this top is a prototype, there's a lot of other things that I did in a bad order: I really should have done the hemming and put on the accents before putting the pieces together, but since I wasn't sure if the pattern would fit first, and thought I would have the energy to make a second better top, I didn't bother with it. This included the cuffs of the sleeve.

That was mistake number 2.

The way I made the sleeves is that the arms are really just a large trapazoid with the shoulder shape at the top. The idea was that I would just sew the large side to a piece of shorter elastic band which would serve as the cuffs. I figured this would cause the sleeve to look "ballooned" at the end. And it kinda worked. You can kinda see how it turned out on her right sleeve in the first picture, but actually sewing it together was kinda terrible because the only way I could think of to do this was to sew the cuff and sleeve separately first, then sew them together, and that just seems ass-backwards to me, but I couldn't think of any other way to do it, and it came out with the cuff being mostly obscured anyway. I tried a different method on the left sleeve, so the cuff is more visible, but the sleeve shape is worse.

So if/when I remake this top, I'm still gonna do this in my ass-backwards way, I've just got to figure out how to keep the sleeve from eating the cuff.

Otherwise, I think the top would actually be pretty cute. I was really getting tired of working on it at the end, so a lot of the details are actually hot-glued on instead of being sewn. The faux-zipper pull is a *little* large, but it's something I had that I thought would work, and I actually really like the oversized look. It works for the proportions of the doll and helps bring in the heart motif that's getting a little lost in the sloppiness of my painting~

The last thing I think worth talking about is the mini GAB.

I thought I'd taken a pic of it by itself, but I guess not. Anyway, the only thing I wanted to say about it is that there's a little "clip" on the back made from wire that allows it to hook onto Kun3h0's belt and be held in her hand. I dunno, I just really like the little accessories, and that little feature amuses me~

But that's it for now. I am actually working on two other accessories for her:

The doll came with a pet dinosuar that I'm currently turning into her GAB.

It's just about the right size to be in scale with Kun3h0, and the hair is basically already the same as GAB's. I've already modified the base with clay and cut off the bits I don't need. It's mostly a matter of sanding and painting right now. I have no idea how or if I'm going to get the collar onto it without it looking bad, but I'll give it a try. If all else fails, I'll just make a tiny bow-tie like GAB!classic~

I don't have a pic of this one, but the doll also came with some sort of flower pot thing that I'm turning into her drill using a metal piping tip for the drill head~ I'll post about them in an "accessories DLC" when they're both finished.

But wait... if you've made it this far, and you saw my preview post, then you might notice that there's one accessory missing.

Well, this mask doesn't actually fit Kun3h0...

But it does fit someone else.

[lavender-laney]

choking on sea salt, chapter three

chapter 1, chapter 2 part one, chapter 2 part two, chapter 3

Sadie awakens to the sound of creaking wood and footsteps. ­Her eyes flick open, and she’s met with the very first rays of sunlight streaming through the broken windows and illuminating the dust that endlessly fills the air of this house.

“You awake?” a gruff voice asks, and Sadie startles, the sun’s light suddenly blocked by the stocky man peering down at her, wisps of hair falling over his bloodshot eyes, coveralls hanging off his starved body. Nikolai, she remembers. He’s a rough-looking man, with a crooked jaw framed by thin white hairs that could, in some ways, be considered a beard. His mouth seems to perpetually hang open a bit, revealing gaps in his yellowed teeth.

Sadie throws the blanket to the side, finding the yarn has become even further unwound during the night, and sits up, gingerly moving away from where the man looms over her form. She stands, brushing the floor’s dust from her clothes.

“Yes, yes,” she stutters, wondering how long he’d stood there before she’d woke up. “I’m awake.”

He stares at her for a moment longer before nodding absently. Turning away, the man begins to make his way towards the door, lumbering footsteps leaving imprints in the dusty floorboards. Still shaking off the last dredges of sleep, Sadie follows, and as they step outside she realizes the sun has only just begun to peek its way over the horizon. The moon still overlooks the rolling fields, and Sadie is reminded of summers spent at her grandparents’ farm, of her grandfather shaking her awake at dawn’s first light, of shoving on her grandmother’s old work boots and mucking her way through the barns in shoes a few sizes too large.

The tense silence between Sadie and Nikolai doesn’t have nearly the same peaceful feelings as mornings spent on her grandparents’ farm, however. Whereas Sadie would expect birdsong or the last dawdling crickets from the previous evening, instead the air is filled only by the whistling of the breeze and the scuff of dirt under the pair’s shoes. The sheep pasture is along the dirt road, within the fence that Sadie recalls seeing as Joseph led her into town the night prior.

Nikolai pulls open the gate, and Sadie gets a closer look at the barn that houses the animals and the fence that surrounds the pasture.

The barn is in similar disrepair as the house Sadie spent the night in, though attempts to patch holes in the roof or reinforce broken fences have clearly been made. As they pass through the outermost fence, iron rods have been used to keep the wood standing where it has been weathered. Sadie peers closer and realizes that the fence has not only been aged by the elements but has also splintered outwards at the height of Sadie’s hip in many places. Her steps slow where she follows Nikolai and she leans closer to the wood. Clumps of wool catch in the damaged posts, shadowed by dark stains that Sadie quickly realizes is blood spattered around the impact points. An unnerved feeling abruptly fills her chest.

“Let’s go,” Nikolai calls, standing at the entrance of the barn, looking back at Sadie with a stern expression and shadowed eyes.

With one last glance at the fence, Sadie rushes over, fighting to avoid the man’s searching gaze. He scoffs, leading her further into the barn. The inside is in worse shape than the exterior, worsened by the smell of unclean wool, feces, and mildew. Sadie is sure the horror must show on her face and feels thankful Nikolai has not turned to look back at her, instead bending down with a pained breath to gather a tin bucket in his frail grip. He turns back to her.

“While I head over to the well, go ‘round letting them outta their pens,” Nikolai says, voice gruff. “Now I need you to listen close to this part,” his tone gains a stern quality, and Sadie feels the nerves in her chest tighten. “Do not give any of these animals an opportunity to get outta that fence out there. They like to … wander, you could say, and then I’ll have to come out and round ‘em back up because you weren’t paying attention. So watch what you’re doin’. These creatures are smarter than you’d think.” He pauses, eyes searching her face. “Do you hear me?’

Sadie nods, eyes wide. “Of course, yes. I understand,” she responds.

Nikolai’s eyes stay trained on hers for a long moment before he huffs, heading back out the barn door, bucket held against his hip. “I’ll be back.”

Sadie nods again, waiting until the man has started to make his way out of the fenced area and down the hill towards town. She grimaces. If he has to walk that far to collect water, no wonder his joints ache, she thinks. She’s certainly not complaining, however, and instead takes the opportunity to survey the barn. As she’d noticed before, it’s clearly an old building, and the closer she looks, the more unstable it appears. She risks a glance at the roof above her, and quickly looks away, choosing not to think about the decaying wood above her head. As she steps further into the barn, the sheep pens become more visible. They’re simple, fenced areas bordered by planks of wood. Each one holds a sheep or two, some with fragile-looking young lambs. Many of them, though, are empty, and Sadie is reminded of Mary’s words the night prior.

“We eat what meat is available to us,” she’d said, all shifty eyes and nerves.

Sadie steps up to the low door of one pen, studying the sheep and lamb that rest together within. They lie together, the lamb leaned against its mother’s stomach, but in perhaps the most … detached manner that Sadie has ever witnessed an animal behave. Although they huddle together for warmth, the animals appear as though they’re hardly aware of one another’s presence. Their gazes are glazed and unfocused, legs sprawled out and ears limp against their skulls. Their bodies, especially the mother’s, are littered in bald patches and wounds. The mother has a large wound across her forehead, her wool stained brown with dried blood. Sadie thinks of the damage to the fence outside, the clumps of wool and crusted blood decorating the wood, and cringes at the implication. With their current disposition, she couldn’t imagine either of these animals ramming their bodies against the fence with enough desperation to harm themselves.

Trepidation worsened by this realization, Sadie lifts the latch to the door and pulls it open, and the creaking wood draws the animals’ attention. The sheep blinks, lifting her head, as if reconnecting to the world around her. She stands, clumsily and without care for her lamb, who is sent tumbling to the ground soundlessly. Sadie can’t help the gasp that escapes her mouth, but the sheep doesn’t seem to notice, simply stepping over her lamb and stumbling out of her pen and past Sadie, making her way out to the pasture. Sadie’s gaze follows her, but the sheep continues on her way without a glance back.

The shuffling of hay brings Sadie’s attention back to the lamb, who is attempting to right itself, weak legs shaking under the weight of its own malnourished body. Caught in a moment of morbid curiosity and a cautious desire to help, Sadie steps forward hands outstretched, but the lamb finally gains its balance, shoving past Sadie’s legs without a care. As it walks past, the matted wool on its backside becomes visible, and Sadie wonders just how long the two had laid there together, unmoving.

As the lamb follows its mother, Sadie sighs, attempting to shake away the goosebumps that have spread across her skin. She moves towards the next pen, and the lone sheep it holds. This one, a ram with cracked, blunt horns curled in a wicked shape around its ears, is in a similar state as the first two and makes its way out of the barn in the very same, unnerving manner. She makes her way down the rows, but the last pen draws her to a stop. It holds a young ram, a little too large to be a lamb, but too leggy and awkward to be considered an adult. Its horns are still small, and the tips are dull. It stands in the corner of its pen, facing the wall with a dogged focus. Its legs are racked with shivers, and Sadie wonders how long it has stood there, weakening its muscles to the point of tremors. As she stands there, wondering how to draw its attention to the open door, it leans its weight back on its hind legs, preparing itself, then rears forward with the full force of its body. Its horns meet the wall with a harsh thud as wood splinters,­and Sadie flinches, immediately stepping forward to grab at its wool the same way you would hold an unruly kitten’s scruff.

Only after she’s done it does she realize how risky of a move it was, how easily the animal could rear towards her to drive keratin and bone into her stomach or kick out with its hind legs. No matter how frail they may seem, a tired muscle won’t prevent a distinctly hoof-shaped imprint on Sadie’s midsection and worn-down stubs won’t prevent a bruised kidney.

Even as the ram remains still, seemingly unaware of Sadie’s grip on the back of its neck, she envisions what her grandfather would say about a mistake like this one. She remembers the first summer she’d stayed at their house, the first time she’d stepped foot into the barn holding rows of dairy cows --- distinctly in better shape than the one she stands in now, met with the excited calls of hungry cows rather than the eerie silence of ill sheep. Her grandfather had led her to one of the stalls, occupied by the oldest and most tame of his herd. He’d held Sadie’s hand as they stepped towards the animal that towered over Sadie’s young frame. As the cow leaned down to snuffle at Sadie’s hair, her grandfather told her in a steady voice all the ways in which a peaceful creature can be dangerous. How quickly a playful horse can buck its rider, how easily milking a cow can become a hoof to the stomach, how even the sweetest of roosters can dig its spur into soft skin at a too-fast movement.

Sadie releases her hold on the sheep’s skin, nudging its shoulder to turn towards the open door. It follows her touch mindlessly, and the first step it takes out of its hay-filled pen and onto the packed dirt of the barn’s floor seems to bring it to awareness just a bit, just enough to take its own unsteady steps towards the door, following the same path as the others.

Sadie watches for a long, tense moment, and begins to understand the glazed, dissociative look in the animals’ eyes, wondering if perhaps she should’ve stayed in Pruitt’s stuffy classroom listening to the overconfident chatter of Bradbury and his peers. With a thud that splits the heavy silence, the pen door swings closed before her. Sadie snaps back to reality. She shudders, both at what she had just witnessed, and at herself for feeling so affected by it. The seed of frustration that had welcomed itself into her chest last night grows, and she pushes the pen door back open and steps into the pen with a huff, determined to get something out of this strange morning.

The pen looks fairly normal, if a bit barren and dirty, but Sadie moves further in, peering at the wall the sheep had been so focused on. The wood is spattered with blood, dried and fresh, and has started to splinter in places. One such crack has formed a sizeable hole in the wood, about the size of Sadie’s fist, and she kneels down in the hay to peer through it, uncaring for the way its filth dampens her knees. Through the hole, the pasture outside is visible, and Sadie can see the flock of sheep making their way past the barn, towards the farthest fence. Past the farthest fence, the ocean is barely visible, the rolling waves audible if Sadie strains to hear them. Sadie wonders if the sheep simply wanted outside but feels there must be more to it. When she surveys the rest of the barn, she finds nothing more of substance, and resigns herself to the unfulfilled curiosity weighing on her.

“Alright,” she huffs to herself, voice breaking the heavy quiet of the barn. “Alright.”

As Sadie follows the flock’s path, she finds the animals gathered at the farthest fence. Some apathetically dip their heads to gather the yellowing grass of the pasture into their teeth, while the others simply … stare. Just as the last sheep was, they’ve planted their hooves in the dirt and watch the horizon, the ocean, like dogged sentries. Sadie steps up beside them to share the view. The sun has crept its way up past the horizon in the time Sadie spent inside the barn, though the sky is still dark with early morning. The ocean looks calm, waves rolling in and out slowly, meeting the sands of the beach gently. The picturesque sight is marred by the utilitarian iron fence that lines the grass just before the beach’s sands begin. It is tall, tall enough to withstand strong waves and winds. The base of the fence has been rusted by seawater and the sea salt encrusting it is visible even from a distance. Although it would certainly hinder a person from making their way to the water, it doesn’t appear impossible to bypass in any way. Based on Mary’s and Edith’s reactions last night, Sadie wonders if the fence is more symbolic than anything, a reminder of the fear of the ocean already held by the townsfolk.

As Sadie is studying one of the younger lambs, peering at the crooked position of its back leg and the grime encrusting its wool, she hears the outermost fence creak open and turns to see Nikolai carrying the bucket of water. At the same moment Sadie turns at the sound of the door, numerous sheep wheel around quickly, desperately, and force their way towards Nikolai, heavy step by stumbling step. One makes it quite close, too, as Sadie has already moved forward with a hand outstretched, prepared to grab it before it can bolt. Nikolai kicks out with a shout, nearly dropping the water bucket, and slams the gate closed. The sheep is unbothered by his reaction, and rushes forward anyway, slamming into the closed gate with the full weight of its body. It crumples into a heap, dazed by the impact, but its legs continue to kick, pushing at the dirt beneath it, mouth opening and closing without sound.

Sadie can only watch in horror, clenched hands still outstretched, even as the other sheep lose interest, rejoining their position against the far fence. Nikolai scoffs, stepping past the writhing animal to make his way toward the barn. Sadie looks between the man and the sheep, overwhelmed with a desire to move closer to the animal. Not to help, though, but to peer closer at its face, at the way its pupils roam, unseeing, and its mouth begins to foam with its desperation. She wishes she could pull out the notepad that sits in her pocket and record its behavior to study later.

“Are you comin’, or are you just gonna gawk at the damned thing?” Nikolai’s voice calls, and he sounds winded.

Sadie watches the sheep for a moment longer as it begins to lose energy, diminished to a twitching, heaving body. She commits the horrid image to memory, and follows Nikolai back into the barn, finding the man tipping the bucket of water into the troughs within each pen.

“Well,” he begins, heaving a deep breath as he sets the bucket on the ground. “Were there any dead?”

Sadie watches as he picks the bucket back up and carries it to the next stall, turning a calculating eye on her as he walks past.

“No,” she says, wondering what she would have done if she’d opened one of the pens to find a dead, decaying sheep. She wonders what the lamb would have done if its mother had died in the night, if maggots and flies had taken to her body with a frenzied hunger. Would the lamb have continued to lay against her cooling, festering corpse without even noticing her demise? Or, and this thought brings a nauseated feeling to her stomach, would it have joined the scavenging insects in their feast?

Nikolai grunts in response, continuing his task.

“What’s … wrong with them?” Sadie dares to ask, watching Nikolai closely for his reaction.

He pauses in his movements to look back at her. His chest is heaving in exhaustion, and his wrists tremble where he holds the weight of the nearly empty bucket. The looseness of his jaw somehow appears worse than it had just an hour prior, and the shadows beneath the redness of his eyes create a distinctly sickly appearance. Sadie can’t help but be reminded of the fragile, unnerving state of the sheep.

“They’re sick,” Nikolai spits, the most emotion she’s seen from the man. “The animals’re sick, the people’re sick, the land is sick. It’s all goddamned sick, and you’d do yourself an’ the rest of us a favor to get yourself the hell away from this place.”

The silence of the barn is suffocating following the man’s tirade. With the remaining energy from his proclamation, he heaves the water bucket up and dumps the rest of it in the next trough. That seems to be the extent of his capabilities, though, and he drops the bucket with a startling clang. It rolls, stopped by the edge of Sadie’s boot, and the man follows it, sliding down the side of the stall wall, coming to rest in the mud. His chest rises and falls rabbit-quick, and his eyes roll in their sockets.

“Oh god---!” Sadie begins, stumbling forward, kicking the bucket away. She kneels beside him, arms held out but wary to touch. “Are you, are you okay?”

Nikolai turns to meet her panicked gaze, seeming to regain a bit of clarity amid the frenzy. “Don’t you touch me,” he says, spittle flying from between the gaps in his teeth. “It’s your fault, you know? It’s always your damned fault. If you would just learn your lesson, just learn your place,” he leans forward suddenly, gripping at her shirt the same way Sadie had held the sheep’s scruff. “If she had just known her place, we wouldn’t be in this damned mess.”

Despite the pounding of her heart, the nerves wracking her limbs, Sadie’s curiosity, her damned curiosity, latches onto the man’s words.

“If who had known her place?” she asks, voice even, peering into his eyes. “Who, Nikolai?”

His demeanor has changed, though. His eyes have refocused, and they’ve lost their frantic quality. His grip on Sadie’s shirt loosens, and he instead uses his hand to push himself up from the ground, legs wavering beneath his weight. Sadie steps back, disappointment curling in her chest, as he fights to right himself. Once he’s found his feet, he huffs, and turns away from Sadie, bending to retrieve the bucket. Without a word, he carries it back to the corner it was originally retrieved from, leaving it to rest against the wall. Still avoiding Sadie’s gaze, he leaves the barn, making his way towards the pasture fence. The sheep that had tried so desperately to escape must have collected itself in the time it took to refill the troughs and has rejoined the rest of the flock down by the furthest fence.

“You’re gonna come back this evening to gather the animals back into their stalls,” Nikolai says, and Sadie rushes to catch up to where he has opened the gate. The sheep only have time to lift their heads, eyes widening, before the pair have slipped through the gate and closed it behind them. As Sadie pulls the latch closed, the sheep swing their heads back around to return to gazing down at the ocean.

“By myself?” Sadie asks Nikolai, now walking beside him. She wonders if he remembers how he’d acted in the barn, what he’d said, if he’s just choosing to ignore it. Sadie certainly won’t forget the way his crazed eyes met her own, nor the gnashing of his crooked jaw as he spit out the nonsensical words. Not for a long time, she’s sure.

Nikolai doesn’t look back at her when he says, “Can you not handle that?”

His tone is questioning, and Sadie feels like she’s being tested.

“Of course I can handle it,” she responds evenly.

Nikolai nods. “Alright then,” he says simply.

They walk to town in a tense silence, occupied only by the questions filling Sadie’s mind, and the echo of the heaving, desperate breaths of a man and a sheep.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

We're finally starting to get into the interesting parts...

Excited to hear what you guys think!

Tag list (lmk if anyone would like to be added or removed!)

@megarywrites @at-thezenith @repressed-and-depressed @plasma-studios @wrenofthewords @pb-dot @communist-mariner @phantomnations @thelittlestspider @inkingfireplace @silverslipstream @atreegrowss @i-rove-rock-n-roll @your-absent-father @borisyvain @ashfordlabs @digital-chance @boundedsea @kaze-writes @thebearthatreads @innocentlymacabre

[wherefore-whinnies]

how i learned to crochet amigurumi!

this is for @jetset-rain but I thought I might was well just post it to everyone!

I taught myself to crochet back in 2020 for the sole reason that there was a really really cute Wooloo pattern and I wanted it. no other loo would do. so I wanted to share some tips and such!

to get started I got a few things:

a crochet hook, or multiple: I bought a super cheap set of like 10 different sizes on amazon for like $14. (unfortunately I don't know where besides amazon you'd look; at craft stores they'll be brand name and much more expensive.) since you're just starting out and seeing if you like it the quality really does not matter imo. so yeah I'd totally just grab some cheap no-name/knock-off set from somewhere, it's fine. the two hooks I used from the set most often until I replaced them with higher-quality ones were size 3.0mm and 4.0mm. I think 3.0mm isn't a common hook size in North America; when I replaced it I got a 3.25mm hook instead. these hook sizes might also be referred to as size D (3.25mm) and size G (4.0mm). I think for some of my very first attempts I used a 5.0mm hook (size H). so really I would have only needed those 3 sizes.

some cheap yarn from my craft store. the yarn weight I used might be called "medium", "worsted", or just "size 4" (in the UK I think it's called "aran") and it's the most common size at least at my craft store. I just looked for something cheap with a lot of yardage in a colour I liked. I think mine was Bernat Super Value Solid in Lush (green) which was 426 yd - I still haven't run out 3 years later although I'm getting close now. you might want to get two different colours.

stitch markers - these are little things like safety pins that you insert into your stitches to help you keep track of the counts. I think I didn't get any right away but they are very helpful! I think once again the cheapest way to get some is somewhere like amazon unfortunately. you can get a large quantity for a lot cheaper than in craft stores. or you can skip buying some initially especially if you have safety pins or something you can use as a substitute.

a yarn needle - you'll need this to weave in the loose ends of your yarn at the end of a project. I got a couple relatively cheap from my craft store. you can skip buying some initially and just leave all the ends chilling hanging out.

I then proceeded to teach myself stuff off of youtube videos. if you're left-handed like me you can look up specifically left-handed videos or you can just use one of those sites that lets you mirror youtube videos.

this video below seems super familiar and I'm pretty sure it's one of the first videos I ever used.

I also used the video below this for my first ever "project". there's a right-handed version on their channel somewhere.

at first it took me several minutes to make just one single crochet stitch. it was so frustrating and I was like how tf do people just do this (I have pretty poor fine motor skills). but I kept at it!! here is the first square I ever made (following the above video) on the right, and the second square I made on the left:

the next thing I learned was how to do a magic circle so that I could crochet in the round to make amigurumi. I think I used the below video (there is probably also a right-handed version, otherwise you can watch a mirrored version):

and then after that I was ready to make cute creatures! I made a whale following the below video! (also I had to buy safety eyes for this, on amazon again)

and now you have amigurumi!!!

[the-nosy-neighbor]

About Sally...

In my review of the latest update and the commercials portion in particular, I keep running into Sally. More after the break, spoilers included in this post.

So, a lot of posting about Sally is attaching her to Eddie, because of the door to her house. I posted briefly about the door to her house in my original post about clocks, because her doors greatly resembled the concept clock face, which was connected to Eddie, because of the watch he wears. We have seen that art change quite a bit, at this point. Eddie's watch is black and white now, which still has that light/dark theme, but didn't end up looking like the concept. Also, the post has shown up in town, and it is no longer a clock. In fact, the only place where this kind of art shows up in the actual project is on Sally's doors.

note: the eyelashes on the doors that Clown went with are less like the Eddie types included in this concept art.

This seems important because that dichotomy and coloring exists only in Sally's house and is echoed somewhat in the buttons on her overalls in some of the concept art. She resembles the left part of her door.

Some have mentioned that the right part of the door resembles Eddie. Eddie is associated with purple, and the eye is closed, which we have seen in Eddie a bit more than the other characters, it seems, but I'm not sure that is the answer for this particular part. I feel like with the day/night doors, it has more to do with Sally's personality than anything. Star/sun and moon. Sally talks about what happens at night during the Halloween story, which isn't really echoed by any other character at this point. Is Sally the thing that goes bump in the night? Even if she isn't aware of it? I feel like that split might mean that she might not be aware of it. In the past, I really expected to be introduced to a character that is Sally at night, or an entirely separate character that reflects the moon on her door.

I mentioned (in another post about the most recent update) that I find the concept of Sally being a treetopper/showstopper is very strange. It put me in mind of some kind of panopticon/lookout.

There are some representations of Sally doing this in the update:

No idea why she is upside down in this one. The audio of this is her and Frank getting into a slap fight.

She says this about Eddie at the Homewarming party.

So she is saying she is the decoration, but when I started looking at this a bit more closely, it started to feel a bit weird. Why is she in this tree that can see the post office specifically? And Eddie is right, where is everyone? This isn't a surprise party for Eddie or anything.

SALLY: ALL MORNING? MORE LIKE ALL DAY! I COULD SEE IT ALL FROM MY SPOT UP ON THE TREE! IT’S NOT EASY BEING THE MOST IMPORTANT DECOR OF HOMEWARMING… BUT I DO WHAT I MUST FOR THIS LITTLE NEIGHBORHOOD! 

But when I was looking at framing and storytelling and how this update clarifies who shares what, W mentions a "contributor" and how they are worried if they share the weirdness that is going on, what they would think. Either implied or explicitly stated that they might stop sending material if this were the case.

This made me think of the information we had about how the items originally showed up. Brightly colored envelopes, and I think we all had Eddie in mind at that point.

The update includes this information: "Since this website’s creation and our most recent burst in attention, we have been graciously given more material by our unknown source. We have also begun receiving large boxes smothered in similar substances. They are poorly put together- With tape, with yarn, with more paper- Sometimes the items inside have been smashed, other times they are beautiful and pristine."

This is further information than the brightly colored envelopes. The large boxes here are of poor quality and covered in craft supplies, which is also Eddie's thing on the show. Also, the smashed is either Eddie falling or being knocked down. So, what if we consider this as proof that Eddie is delivering these things? The black stuff will be held for a post about the black stuff, which will be soon.

So, if we know that Eddie is sending this stuff in, the things that happen in the commercials video start to make a little more sense. He wraps presents, freaks out a bit, decides everyone is playing in the snow, freaks out a bit more, looks for a note or something from anyone, and then gets angry about not receiving any mail and sweeps everything off of his desk. He decides to go looking.

Eddie was not invited to join everyone at the party until he left the post office:

EDDIE: MERCY! WHY AIN’T NO ONE TOLD ME ANYTHIN’! [HE SHOVES ITEMS OFF HIS DESK WITH A LOUD CLATTER.] NOT A CALL, A VISIT, A PEEP, OR NOTHIN! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO MY JOB WHEN NO ONE GIVES ME SOMETHIN’ TO DO! WHO’S EVER HEARD OF FOLKS GETTIN’ RECOGNITION FOR NOTHIN? NO ONE, THAT’S WHO! …AT LEAST I DON'T THINK SO ANYWAYS… (HE SIGHS.) MAYBE I OUGHTA JUST GO OUT FOR A WALK.

SALLY: (STRUGGLING TO KEEP HOLD OF THE TREE) FEAR NOT, MAILMAN! IT IS I, YOUR BELOVED STAR OF THE HOMEWARMING TREE! COME TO BESTOW PEACE ONTO YOUR WORRISOME MIND! THE REASON WE DIDN’T ASK YOU TO DELIVER ANY PRESENTS IS QUITE SIMPLE! WE HAVE ALREADY DONE IT!  

EDDIE: REALLY…? WAIT, WHAT ARE YOU DOIN’ UP THERE-  

SALLY: EVERYONE INSISTS YOU WORK SO HARD! ALL OF US WANTED TO GIVE YOU A BREAK SO YOU COULD FINALLY ENJOY IT FOR YOURSELF- SO STUFF AN ENVELOPE IN IT AND ESCORT ME TO WALLY’S HOMEWARMING PARTY! COME ALONG, HURRY, HURRY-  

EDDIE: WELL… MAYBE I DO NEED A BREAK- OH! OKAY, OKAY, I’M COMIN’!  

NARRATOR: AND SO SALLY STARLET AND EDDIE DEAR MADE THEIR WAY TO HOME TO GATHER WITH THE REST OF THEIR FRIENDS! WHEN THEY ENTERED THE DOORWAY, THE NEIGHBORS CHEERED. FINALLY, EVERYONE WAS HERE! 

But everyone is not there:

We have Julie, Frank, Wally, Howdy, and Barnaby in this picture. Sally and Eddie have just walked in. They are all inside home. Where is Poppy? Poppy doesn't have any lines in this scene.

But Poppy did have a scene with Eddie on Homewarming Eve. He helps Poppy put the ham in the tree, and there was some gravy pouring on ornaments.

EDDIE: I LOVE A GOOD HOMEWARMIN’! WRAPPIN’ PRESENTS, DECKIN’ THE TREE WITH DISHES, AND GOIN’ OUT SINGIN’ CAROLS! I'M JUST PEACHY ABOUT HELPIN’ YOU PUT UP YOUR TREE TOO, POPPY! WHAT’S A HOMEWARMIN’S EVE WITHOUT A HOMEWARMIN’ HAM IN THE TREE, AFTER ALL!

POPPY: AND I DO SO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP, EDDIE! IT SOUNDS LIKE YOUR SCHEDULE MUST BE FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH ALL SORTS OF WORK! WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GIVE YOURSELF SOME TIME TO ENJOY THE HOLIDAYS? EVEN I DON’T KNIT EVERY DAY… MY WINGS HURT JUST THINKING ABOUT IT!

Once again, we have someone pushing the idea that Eddie needs to take the day off, but it is just Sally and Poppy who we have seen saying it. After all that, Eddie starts having his freakout, and there are several images that pass through, but pouring gravy on an ornament is part of it.

This is during his conversation with Poppy, and during his freakout, the image of the gravy dripping off the ornament plays.

[gravemations]

The Northwood Documents: Cold Reports chapter 3 PT1

You put the tape away after watching the first tape in the collections, you wonder why these were kept in the house by the previous owner? This Jayden person… 

From what you could tell this person was an absolute mess of a human, his desk was a mess with coffee stained notes scattered all over it. At Least you think he is a guy? It's hard to tell. Probability best not to assume.

You think of the video though it is hard to see because of the quality of the film, you can tell that the room behind has scattered clothing around their floor and bed which is not made with a note board in the back with even more notes on it and red yarn, but now to bring up Jaydens own appearance.  

Jayden had a green hoodie on that was covered in coffee and ink stains even to their hands they were stained with ink, most of their clothing seemed to have patches all  over depicting monsters and UFOs. And their hair a light brown with specks of blonde mix in, it was completely tangled in a messy bun on top of their head stuck up with pencils.

But the most noble thing about them was their face,they wore bright red glasses that covered most of their eyes but you decided to think about him more which from remembering them you can immediately realize that their facial hair was not real but a bunch of marker lines on their face??.

OK if you have very much realized at this point that this Jayden Maverick is not a mentally stable person but yet like watching a trashy TV show, this makes you even more intrigued about the identity of this person and where they are now, not to mention the things they brought up. 

 Kidnappings, Mysteries and Murder Cases. 

You know that this town has had a number of incidents in the last 22 years, that's why you're here you think. No, you know that's why you're here. 

That was weird. Why would you forget why you're here?  

You just got here didn't you? Anyway You were transferred here from the Portland police department to help out here in Northwood due to an increase in missing people reports and a serge of crimes in the area. 

You decided that this is enough thinking for tonight you have work tomorrow and you're just tired after the move as you look up at your digital clock that shows the time of 21:56.  

You get ready for bed as soft rain falls from the sky making pattering sounds on the roof, you brush your teeth and put on your pajamas and get into your bed. 

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

You could not understand why but the sleep  you had was one of the worst in your life, it could be just because the move was stressful but you just kept on turning and not able to sleep for hours tossing and turning. 

It feels like you are being watched from beyond your window that you can see from out your window. 

Rain is still pouring  as a car or two goes by your window, when you finally get to sleep that night you had a very strange dream like it was a memory that was not yours.   

Because it wasn't. 

You are sitting at a desk covered in coffee stains and notes that are too smeared to read as if they had faded like they don't matter. You look at your reflection in front of you but it's not your face looking back at you, No this person in the reflection is taller than you are. 

A dark shadow covers their face so you can't tell what or who they are but you can tell they are looking at you. Their hair is down draping over their shoulders and covered in leaves and sticks as their arms are scarred in a very jagged way that looks like light lighting bolts with clawed hands like the talons of a hawk and give off an orange glow.    

From what you can tell this thing isn't human, before you can react the figure to also seem startled at your presents here. The sound it made when it realized you were there, it made your ears ring it was an awful combination of human screaming and TV static as it a static filter covered the mirror as it disappeared. 

You uncontrollably fall backwards completely startled on what in the world is going on as papers fall all over off the table making even more of a mess, You catch your breath as you look around your room. 

But this isn't your room, this is the storage room but it's not, it's more set out as a bedroom, the room is a complete mess as you look to the left you see piles of unwashed dishes and Halloween and monster movie themed decor. While the right has a whiteboard and an jumbled bed. 

”That was something, I don't know what it was but I'll note that down later.” You said but it wasn't you, it came from your mouth but it was not your voice. 

You look at the mirror again but look at you is still not you, that thing is gone but instead looking back at you is Jayden. 

Was I experiencing a memory of theirs? That's impossible. How can you have a memory of someone else?  

Anyway you were stuck in their body for now so let's see what happens anyway, not like you have a choice in the matter. 

 As you are thinking about this you randomly start moving, this shakes you a bit. Looks like you're not the one in control anymore.  

Jayden moves to the window and uncovers the curtains from his window, looks like they just finished recording a video you guess. 

Outside it's not raining here and you can see the roads around the town with other houses around and the green tree line that leads out to the forest outside. You do not know much about the area but there is a nature reserve close to town. 

 As you are thinking about this you hear the sound of rocks being thrown, you see a skinny person wearing a black trench coat that is too big for them with short messy black hair that covers their face. 

The rest of the clothes were monotone, having no print on them and wearing a chain necklace. As Jayden looked at them they threw more rocks at Jayden's window with a big smile on their face that radiated misstiff. 

”JAYDEN YOU NERD! Hurry up and get out here, don't tell me you forgot about our plans about messing with the live news broadcast!.”   The figure shouted from the backyard. 

Jayden opens the window ”Hey Cody, not so loud. I don't want my parents knowing  about our plans, I'll be grounded for a week.” Jayden replied concerned. 

Cody raised an eyebrow at their response. ”Come on dude, you're going to be grounded anyway for interrupting a live broadcast. Don't you want people to know about what you've been working on?”  

Jayden thought about this for about 5 seconds before starting to pack his notes and basically throwing himself out the window as Cody catches him. 

”Hey be careful, you don't want to accidentally break a leg before we get there.” Cody laughed as he smiled at his friend who is making a fool of themselves. 

Jayden is clearly a bit embarrassed about his fumble but gets back up and dust himself off with the only bruise they had was their pride. 

”I meant to do that!” 

Cody looked in Jayden’s eyes with a shit eating grin ”Shore you did Jayden, now let's get going.” 

As Cody said this this started blurring around them as you hear a ringing sound as your alarm goes off, you basically hit it off the nightstand as you just sit there for a moment trying to wrap your head around what just happened. You decided to grab a pen and notebook and make a dream journal. 

[donttalktome-mp3]

Could you please do a short fic about Jane and Anna bonding over some shared activity? In a non romantic - compleatly platonic way.

I know that in the musical they seem like polar opposites, but maybe they kept some traits from their past lives and they are both really good at needlework or something along that way.

Or maybe they could bond over a modern day activity they both enjoy?

Whatever you find easier.

Thanks

so sorry it’s taken me ages to get to this but heres some mush from my notes page :))

hope you like it!!

also hmu if there’s any other ships or dynamics you want me to write xx

seymour, cleves

tumblr ask x

“hey has anyone seen my red yarn!!?”

seymour yelled down the hallway

an inconsistent echo of “nopee“ from 4 of the queens followed.

“hm” jane shrugged and got back to her crochet, she was about to start making a pride flag/blanket for her and her girlfriend, catalina; to take to the pride march in a few weeks.

annoyed, the third queen wandered into her girlfriends room, just to spend some quality time together. Lina was on her phone, distracted and dazed. Jane queried her on the suspicious disappearance of her brand new yarn. “i don’t know mi querida.”, catalina answered without looking away from her phone

“oh well” seymour rapidly sat upright, determined to continue with her day, disregarding her missing wool.

————————————————

Cleves was scared for a second- she hadn’t figured it out in time! she had to return the yarn without jane noticing, anna knew she wouldn’t be mad but it was incredibly misfitting for her to be crocheting. Can you imagine how anne would make her feel? the insults and ‘bullying’ that would follow? (although cathy wouldn’t allow it, there’d still be tension)

the hook wasn’t looping and the yarn was fraying, ‘ugh, how do jane and cathy do this??’ anna thought while she unpaused her youtube tutorial playing on her phone.

————————————————

a few days later

jane had the thought of her wool in the back of her mind - she was reluctant to buy a new set of her wool as the brand that she found best was on the more expensive side - and jane was always one to rather save her money and spend wisely for special occasions.

Laundry basket in hand, she wandered into anna’s room to put her freshly washed clothes onto her bed to be put away.

Jane was often the one doing the laundry for the queens but wasn’t opposed to it as it usually kept her busy.

Cleves was downstairs playing mario kart with kitty and anne, and had seemingly rushed downstairs in a hurry.

Jane spotted something in the corner of her eye. Her red wool! it was hidden under anna’s pillow? - not very well, clearly - jane pulled it out cautiously; she didn’t want to be caught ‘snooping’ by any of her peers.

That was it! Her red wool she had been searching for days, the only question left unanswered was why on earth would anna have it?

her quiery was soon resolved when she saw a metallic crochet hook accompanying the yarn.

The third queen knew that Cleves would be embarrassed if everyone knew she was crocheting, but seymour couldn’t help but smile. Jane texted her in hopes to subtly let her know jane was happy for anna to be crocheting.

“hey i found my wool in your room?? do you want me to teach you?”

“uhh haha sorry bout that, just looked kinda fun lmao please teach me it’s so hard ;-;”

“lol no problem lmk when you’re free i can help!!

just don’t take my stuff without asking next time!”

————————————————

later that week, jane and anna went out to the craft store to pick up a few hooks of various sizes and some yarn.

With a live tutor, Anna seemed to pick up the movements and gist of crochet a lot easier and actually seemed to enjoy the hobby. It only took her a few weeks to be able to make a pink scarf for katherine - which she cherished deeply -

Upon experimenting, Jane and Anna who, prior to this occurance, barely spoke, found themselves crocheting together multiple times a week when they got bored and Anna now had a newfound hobby and a new connection to Jane seymour.

[ccaptain]

@predvestnik: His hands had grown weary from the diversion of feeling along each blade left to his care. They were many, unique, Tartaglia has found it telling of one's personality how thorough their care of these weapons are. His fingertips studied their hilts, the carvings found in metal and wood; he felt how they didn't fit his hold, but certainly matched their true master's.

In the end, the Harbinger capped them carefully, even changed a few that were worn from use and, therefore, too unsafe to be strapped against skin and flesh. The pouch guarding them was nothing special, made of common cloth and a string the Eleventh himself twisted from high quality yarn looping around one of the extremities as means to keep it shut.

      ❛ They're not my style, ❜ he justified with a boyish smile as company to his voice. The pouch was left on the nearest surface, this being the only intrusion he permitted himself after knocking on the door to the spy Fatuus' dorm.  ❛ And who knows what disservice I'd be doing a comrade by depriving them of their claws? I'm sure they yearn for their master's clutch as much as the inverse is true. береги себя, Ambroise. ❜

   not many things could surprise Kaeya- by now Ambroise Petrov, a man blending in the Fatui lines.

   The Eleventh was one of those things.

   it had been a few days since he started walking around with a very peculiar item of dressing- the black and white coat, symbol of the Harbingers, handed to him by Tartaglia personally. his dorm-mates drank up the lie that their favorite superior saw Ambroise trip and ruin his coat, promptly and chivalrously giving the poor fatuus his- and he almost felt sorry as he had to make the story up.

   the coat was lovely- yet, he felt strangely naked with it on. it had a few hidden pockets... and no knives.

   granted, if his precious daggers had to be the price to keep his disguise, he would have gladly paid so a thousand times over. 

   and still, Childe manages to surprise him once again.

   as he sees the Harbinger himself peer into his dorm, thankfully empty for the time being, Kaeya's eyebrows can't help but almost lift all the way up to the end of his mask- expecially at the seeming gift placed on a furniture, at the return of his weapons like it's the simplest thing in the world to do. there's a moment of brief embarassment, when he's caught with the other man's coat still on- like he stole it, like it's a private situation to sport himself with the slightest of flushes on his cheeks.

   there's a moment when he raises to meet Childe- yet, he can't find anything witty to say. 

   he holds the makeshift pouch in his hold like it's a child, with an hand cradling it close to his chest. there's no doubt that the blades inside of it, pressing snugly against his fingers even from the fabric, with the gentle way the bottom is held just before he looks back up at the other man.

   the other man, who just returned his tools of survival like it was the most natural gesture in the world.

   ' i trust you've treated them well, ' he finds his words again, and that particular brand of soft and playful disrespectful smile that seems directed at the Eleventh and for the Eleventh only. ' they have indeed missed me- and i hope i can find an use for them, soon! ' a soft laughter follows, his mask long discarded on the bed as he was coming to meet his Harbinger. he shows his eyes to Childe without fear- after all, Kaeya thinks...

   he thinks that he has found a very good ally.

   that- or he's going insane.

   and if he is, he'll add to the growing hystery of the situation: ' you should come meet me more often, by the way, ' he teases, an hand applying a gentle pressure on Childe's shoulder to push the other's frame at an height his face can reach...

  -he presses soft lips right on his cheek.

   it's barely a pressure, a gentle one that leaves a faint, pleasing scent of the cocoa butter he carries, to avoid his lips chapping, on freckled skin- but it's gentle, and warm to boot. after that, Tartaglia is safely released without further harm- perhaps a flutter of his heart, and nothing more.

   ' thank you, ' it's almost coy, the way Kaeya whispers it in his ear- it borders on bashful, the persistent redness not leaving his cheeks.

   ' and... береги себя тоже, Childe. '

[alien-ally]

So last month? Mid-slightly-towards-the-end of March i learned how to crochet. It was brought to my attention from a conversation with a classmate about the appeal of 'grandma hobbies', how we both have been fascinated with knitting, crocheting etc. and have wanted to learn since forever. Until then it seemed like something greater than what u could learn on your own (/from yt), too intimidating, the supplies too many and too costly, the skill too intricate and confusing and frustrating. Then i randomly searched it up, picked up the sole hook i had (not even a crochet hook, it was a loom hook -⁠_⁠-⁠メ⁠), scavenged the two lonely balls of yarn I'd stashed away safely, barely touched from when i bought it for summer camp in 3rd grade (?) and began with chaining. As if i only had to hold them, do the best i could, undo, redo and wait for all the clutter in my brain to wash away. Pretty much working on autopilot, there was nothing on my mind, no thoughts, it's so peculiar, going from how unstable and frenzied i was to tranquil, all that buried momentarily as i functioned, singularly dedicated to guiding the yarn about and around my hook. Any last remnants of coherent thought had during that time would be forgotten immediately. Now it's been a little over a month, i have mastered various basics, got a brand new actual crochet hook set and the sight of yarn balls make me happy beyond my funky words can express. Just joy. Big huge joy. Not all the variety and quality and sizes are available here, it's a real bummer, one ball is 12 grams (the gall of those who make such tiny balls).

Crocheting does this to me: it makes me feel useful and accomplished while demanding little. It's very simple minded. It lets me make my own pride indicators to carry around, pouches, key chains, charms, plushies, clothes, all aspec flavoured. It's therapy.

[daycare-vore-off]

🌶🟣: raising my own sassy eyebrow at him I couldn't help the smile, Rascal he is. Wonder if he's going to use it as bait later.. not interrupting him I started to follow as I remember hearing about lunar while I was in his stomach. "I'll have to be sure to thank him" I'll take care of the sweater until then.

Wait he knitts!! I couldn't help the happy swing of my tail or the ruffle of my feathers not that they actually ruffled being weighed down with his mix drink of saliva. I personally can't get the hang of knitting it hurts my wrist more then crocheting does. But God knows the mountain of yarn I own.

Wait focus he's talking! The hallway did looked up kept which with everyone here I didn't expect anything less, they really take good care of this sections. "Noted" I will have to take my cloths there after my clean up.

Rolling my eyes at the employee part. Lucky bastards get a good set up and leave cuz there chicken? "They sound like scarty cats" i wanted to say the valugar word version but im not keen on being that curd to a place so welcoming.

oh wait eclipses, and lunar stay here too. I knew mango did, that's really cool! I mean I knew they had to stay somewhere but it's nice they get there own place, fazz Corp or what ever I know isn't the nicest. Hold so where does glitch live? In the Arcade sections?

Before I could ask he left, I'll just ask when he gets back. "Alright glitchy"

Turning back to the apartment I mentally grumbled how it was much nicer then my own. And the stupid butt heads didn't even have to worry about driving like come on! Ide snoop more in the room later but for now I need to wash.

Granted it was nice to smell like one of my favorite fruits. I never liked pina coladas fully, I mean I drank em for sure. And I love the fruit separately, coconuts were my favorite! But never like the drink as much as you think a coconut fan should. Though it was still a wonderful scent.

Carefully gathering the uniform I went into the bathroom to take care of myself. Afterwords after carefully washing my new necklace and drying it with a soft washcloth I noted how I still smelt like glitch..damn did they make the scent strong. Like dude I've made cold press soaps before and this is quality stuff if it sticks like this. Color me impress.

Fixing myself up I did find styling gel, I didn't dare touch the tooth brush I saw. My wings no longer there having dispelled them. Out in the dorm I saw a full length mirror next to the closet. "Heh people would think I actually work here" my expression soften as I took in my attire.. I did miss working with children.

I'm forgetting something.. right right cloths. Humming softly to myself a note slipping out every so often. It was a soft soothing, melody. I followed where glitch had said, glad it was just down the hall cuz at times my direction sense is horrid. Doing the adjustments for a small load I started it all up.

My arms adjusted a bit still not used to sharing my appearance, it was nice..this all been just really, really nice.

*there are footsteps with jingling bells that stop behind you,Eclipse and Glitch don't wear bell and the shadow that's cast isn't tall enough to be Sun or Moon, so that just leaves-*

🔵🌕⚪:Hello! *He's holding a folded rainbow colored sweater in his arms while smiling at you cheerfully* Glitchy told me you needed to borrow one of my sweaters so I chose one of my favorites.

He got into a fight with the mean suited people so I brought one for you instead of him while they busy were fighting about....*he pauses, looking a little confused*

well I don't really know what they were fighting about just that they were really angry at each other. *He goes back to smiling, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting for you to take the sweater*

*seems you may need to wait a bit longer to ask Glitch those questions...or you could ask Lunar*

[rjalker]

okay the audio quality isn't actually as bad as I first thought.

The Cave of Horror as an amateur audiobook, originally published in 1930 by Sterner St. Paul Meek in the magazine Astounding Stories of Super-Science.

you can download just the audio from itch.io

The whole story is also under the cut in text since it's 8k words long if you prefer to read.

Dr. Bird looked up impatiently as the door of his private laboratory in the Bureau of Standards swung open, but the frown on his face changed to a smile as he saw the form of Operative Carnes of the United States Secret Service framed in the doorway.

"Hello, Carnes," he called cheerfully. "Take a seat and make yourself at home for a few minutes. I'll be with you as soon as I finish getting this weight."

Carnes sat on the edge of a bench and watched with admiration the long nervous hands and the slim tapering fingers of the famous scientist. Dr. Bird stood well over six feet and weighed two hundred and six pounds stripped: his massive shoulders and heavy shock of unruly black hair combined to give him the appearance of a prize-fighter—until one looked at his hands. Acid stains and scars could not hide the beauty of those mobile hands, the hands of an artist and a dreamer. An artist Dr. Bird was, albeit his artistry expressed itself in the most delicate and complicated experiments in the realms of pure and applied science that the world has ever seen, rather than in the commoner forms of art.

The doctor finished his task of weighing a porcelain crucible, set it carefully into a dessicator, and turned to his friend.

"What's on your mind, Carnes?" he asked. "You look worried. Is there another counterfeit on the market?"

The operative shook his head.

"Have you been reading those stories that the papers have been carrying about Mammoth Cave?" he asked.

Dr. Bird emitted a snort of disgust.

"I read the first one of them part way through on the strength of its being an Associated Press dispatch," he replied, "but that was enough. It didn't exactly impress me with its veracity, and, from a viewpoint of literature, the thing was impossible. I have no time to pore over the lucubrations of an inspired press agent."

"So you dismissed them as mere press agent work?"

"Certainly. What else could they be? Things like that don't happen fortuitously just as the tourist season is about to open. I suppose that those yarns will bring flocks of the curious to Kentucky though: the public always responds well to sea serpent yarns."

"Mammoth Cave has been closed to visitors for the season," said Carnes quietly.

"What?" cried the doctor in surprise. "Was there really something to those wild yarns?"

"There was, and what is more to the point, there still is. At least there is enough to it that I am leaving for Kentucky this evening, and I came here for the express purpose of asking you whether you wanted to come along. Bolton suggested that I ask you: he said that the whole thing sounded to him like magic and that magic was more in your line than in ours. He made out a request for your services and I have it in my pocket now. Are you interested?"

"How does the secret service cut in on it?" asked the doctor. "It seems to me that it is a state matter. Mammoth Cave isn't a National Park."

"Apparently you haven't followed the papers. It was a state matter until the Governor asked for federal troops. Whenever the regulars get into trouble, the federal government is rather apt to take a hand."

"I didn't know that regulars had been sent there. Tell me about the case."

"Will you come along?"

Dr. Bird shook his head slowly.

"I really don't see how I can spare the time, Carnes," he said. "I am in the midst of some work of the utmost importance and it hasn't reached the stage where I can turn it over to an assistant."

"Then I won't bother you with the details," replied Carnes as he rose.

"Sit down, confound you!" cried the doctor. "You know better than to try to pull that on me. Tell me your case, and then I'll tell you whether I'll go or not. I can't spare the time, but, on the other hand, if it sounds interesting enough...."

Carnes laughed.

"All right, Doctor," he said, "I'll take enough time to tell you about it even if you can't go. Do you know anything about it?"

"No. I read the first story half way through and then stopped. Start at the beginning and tell me the whole thing."

"Have you ever been to Mammoth Cave?"

"No."

"It, or rather they, for while it is called Mammoth Cave it is really a series of caves, are located in Edmonson County in Central Kentucky, on a spur railroad from Glasgow Junction on the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. They are natural limestone caverns with the customary stalactite and stalagmite formation, but are unusually large and very beautiful. The caves are quite extensive and they are on different levels, so that a guide is necessary if one wants to enter them and be at all sure of finding the way out. Visitors are taken over a regular route and are seldom allowed to visit portions of the cave off these routes. Large parts of the cave have never been thoroughly explored or mapped. So much for the scene.

"About a month ago a party from Philadelphia who were motoring through Kentucky, entered the cave with a regular guide. The party consisted of a man and his wife and their two children, a boy of fourteen and a girl of twelve. They went quite a distance back into the caves and then, as the mother was feeling tired, she and her husband sat down, intending to wait until the guide showed the children some sights which lay just ahead and then return to them. The guide and the children never returned."

"What happened?"

"No one knows. All that is known is the bare fact that they have not been seen since."

"A kidnapping case?"

"Apparently not, in the light of later happenings, although that was at first thought to be the explanation. The parents waited for some time. The mother says that she heard faint screams in the distance some ten minutes after the guide and the children left, but they were very far away and she isn't sure that she heard them at all. At any rate, they didn't impress her at the time.

"When half an hour had passed they began to feel anxious, and the father took a torch and started out to hunt for them. The usual thing happened; he got lost. When he failed to return, the mother, now thoroughly alarmed, made her way, by some uncanny sense of direction, to the entrance and gave the alarm. In half an hour a dozen search parties were on their way into the cave. The father was soon located, not far from the beaten trail, but despite three days of constant search, the children were not located. The only trace of them that was found was a bracelet which the mother identified. It was found in the cavern some distance from the beaten path and was broken, as though by violence. There were no other signs of a struggle.

"When the bracelet was found, the kidnapping theory gained vogue, for John Harrel, the missing guide, knew the cave well and natives of the vicinity scouted the idea that he might be lost. Inspired by the large reward offered by the father, fresh parties began to explore the unknown portions of the cave. And then came the second tragedy. Two of the searchers failed to return. This time there seemed to be little doubt of violence, for screams and a pistol shot were faintly heard by other searchers, together with a peculiar 'screaming howl,' as it was described by those who heard it. A search was at once made toward the spot where the bracelet had been picked up, and the gun of one of the missing men was found within fifty yards of the spot where the bracelet had been discovered. One cylinder of the revolver had been discharged."

"Were there any signs on the floor?"

"The searchers said that the floor appeared to be rather more moist and slimy than usual, but that was all. They also spoke of a very faint smell of musk, but this observation was not confirmed by others who arrived a few moments later."

"What happened next?"

"The Governor was appealed to and a company of the National Guard was sent from Louisville to Mammoth Cave. They took up camp at the mouth of the cave and prevented everyone from entering. Soldiers armed with service rifles penetrated the caverns, but found nothing. Visitors were excluded, and the guardsmen established regular patrols and sentry posts in the cave with the result that one night, when time came for a relief, the only trace that could be found of one of the guards was his rifle. It had not been fired. Double guards were then posted, and nothing happened for several days—and then another sentry disappeared. His companion came rushing out of the cave screaming. When he recovered, he admitted that both he and the missing man had gone to sleep and that he awoke to find his comrade gone. He called, and he says that the answer he received was a peculiar whistling noise which raised all the hair on the back of his neck. He flashed his electric torch all around, but could see nothing. He swears, however, that he heard a slipping, sliding noise approaching him, and he felt that some one was looking at him. He stood it as long as he could and then threw down his rifle and ran for his life."

"Had he been drinking?"

"No. It wasn't delirium either, as was shown by the fact that a patrol found his gun where he had thrown it, but no trace of the other sentry. After this second experience, the guardsmen weren't very eager to enter the cave, and the Governor asked for regulars. A company of infantry was ordered down from Fort Thomas to relieve the guardsmen, but they fared worse than their predecessors. They lost two men the first night of their guard. The regulars weren't caught napping, for the main guard heard five shots fired. They rushed a patrol to the scene and found both of the rifles which had been fired, but the men were gone.

"The officer of the day made a thorough search of the vicinity and found, some two hundred yards from the spot where the sentries had been posted, a crack in the wall through which the body of a man could be forced. This bodycrack had fresh blood on each side of it. Several of his men volunteered to enter the hole and search, but the lieutenant would not allow it. Instead, he armed himself with a couple of hand-grenades and an electric torch and entered himself. That was last Tuesday, and he has not returned."

"Was there any disturbance heard from the crack?"

"None at all. A guard was posted with two machine-guns pointed at the crack in the wall, and a guard of eight men and a sergeant stationed there. Last night, about six o'clock, while the guard were sitting around their guns, a faint smell of musk became evident. No one paid a great deal of attention to it, but suddenly for no apparent reason at all one of the men on guard was jerked into the air feet upwards. He gave a scream of fear, and an unearthly screech answered him. The guard, with the exception of one man, turned tail and ran. One man stuck by his gun and poured a stream of bullets into the crack. The retreating men could hear the rattle of the gun for a few moments and then there was a choking scream, followed by silence. When the officer of the day got back with a patrol, there was a heavy smell of musk in the air, and a good deal of blood was splashed around. The machine-guns were both there, although one of them was twisted up until it looked like it had been through an explosion.

"The Officer commanding the company investigated the place, ordered all men out of the cave, and communicated with the War Department. The Secretary of War found it too tough a nut to crack and he asked for help, so Bolton is sending me down there. Do you think, in view of this yarn, that your experiments can wait?"

The creases on Dr. Bird's high forehead had grown deeper and deeper as Carnes had told his story, but now they suddenly disappeared, and he jumped to his feet with a boyish grin.

"How soon are we leaving?" he asked.

"In two hours, Doctor. A car is waiting for us downstairs and I have reservations booked for both of us on the Southern to-night. I knew that you were coming; in fact, the request for your services had been approved before I came here to see you."

Dr. Bird rapidly divested himself of his laboratory smock and took his coat and hat from a cupboard.

"I hope you realize, Carnsey, old dear," he said as he followed the operative out of the building, "that I have a real fondness for your worthless old carcass. I am leaving the results of two weeks of patient work alone and unattended in order to keep you out of trouble, and I know that it will be ruined when I get back. I wonder whether you are worth it?"

"Bosh!" retorted Carnes. "I'm mighty glad to have you along, but you needn't rub it in by pretending that it is affection for me that is dragging you reluctantly into this mess. With an adventure like this ahead of you, leg-irons and handcuffs wouldn't keep you away from Mammoth Cave, whether I was going or not."

It was late afternoon before Dr. Bird and Carnes dismounted from the special train which had carried them from Glasgow Junction to Mammoth Cave. They introduced themselves to the major commanding the guard battalion which had been ordered down to reinforce the single company which had borne the first brunt of the affair, and then interviewed the guards who had been routed by the unseen horror which was haunting the famous cave. Nothing was learned which differed in any great degree from the tale which Carnes had related to the doctor in Washington, except that the officer of the day who had investigated the last attack failed to entirely corroborate the smell of musk which had been reported by the other observers.

"It might have been musk, but to me it smelled differently," he said. "Were you ever near a rattlesnake den in the west?"

Dr. Bird nodded.

"Then you know the peculiar reptilian odor which such a place gives off. Well, this smell was somewhat similar, although not the same by any manner of means. It was musky all right, but it was more snake than musk to me. I rather like musk, but this smell gave me the horrors."

"Did you hear any noises?"

"None at all. The men describe some rather peculiar noises and Sergeant Jervis is an old file and pretty apt to get things straight, but they may have been made by the men who were in trouble. I saw a man caught by a boa in South America once, and the noises he made might very well have been described in almost the same words as Jervis used."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," replied the Doctor. "I'll remember what you have told me. Now I think that we'll go into the cave."

"My orders are to allow no one to enter, Doctor."

"I beg your pardon. Carnes, where is that letter from the Secretary of War?"

Carnes produced the document. The lieutenant examined it and excused himself. He returned in a few moments with the commanding officer.

"In the face of that letter, Dr. Bird," said the major, "I have no alternative to allowing you to enter the cave, but I will warn you that it is at your own peril. I'll give you an escort, if you wish."

"If Lieutenant Pearce will come with me as a guide, that will be all that I need."

The lieutenant paled slightly, but threw back his shoulders.

"Do you wish to start at once, sir?" he asked.

"In a few moments. What is the floor of the cave like where we are going?"

"Quite wet and slimy, sir."

"Very slippery?"

"Yes, sir."

"In that case before we go in we want to put on baseball shoes with cleats on them, so that we can run if we have to. Can you get us anything like that?"

"In a few moments, sir."

"Good! As soon as we can get them we'll start. In the meantime, may I look at that gun that was found?"

The Browning machine-gun was laid before the doctor. He looked it over critically and sniffed delicately at it. He took from his pocket a phial of liquid, moistened a portion of the water-jacket of the weapon, and then rubbed the moistened part briskly with his hand. He sniffed again. He looked disappointed, and again examined the gun closely.

"Carnes," he said at length, "do you see anything on this gun that looks like tooth marks?"

"Nothing, Doctor."

"Neither do I. There are some marks here which might quite conceivably be finger-prints of a forty-foot giant, and those two parallel grooves look like the result of severe squeezing, but there are no tooth marks. Strange. There is no persistent odor on the gun, which is also strange. Well, there's no use in theorizing: we are confronted by a condition and not a theory, as someone once said. Let's put on those baseball shoes and see what we can find out."

Dr. Bird led the way into the cave, Carnes and the lieutenant following closely with electric torches. In each hand Dr. Bird carried a phosphorus hand-grenade. No other weapons were visible, although the doctor knew that Carnes carried a caliber .45 automatic pistol strapped under his left armpit. As they passed into the cave the lieutenant stepped forward to lead the way.

"I'm going first," said the doctor. "Follow me and indicate the turns by pressure on my shoulder. Don't speak after we have started, and be ready for instant flight. Let's go."

Forward into the interior of the cave they made their way. The iron cleats of the baseball shoes rang on the floor and the noise echoed back and forth between the walls, dying out in little eerie whispers of sound that made Carnes' hair rise. Ever forward they pressed, the lieutenant guiding the doctor by silent pressure on his shoulder and Carnes following closely. For half a mile they went on until a restrainable pressure brought the doctor to a halt. The lieutenant pointed silently toward a crack in the wall before them. Carnes started forward to examine it, but a warning gesture from the doctor stopped him.

Slowly, an inch at a time, the doctor crept forward, hand-grenades in readiness. Presently he reached the crack and, shifting one of the grenades into his pocket, he drew forth an electric torch and sent a beam of light through the crack into the dark interior of the earth.

For a moment he stood thus, and then suddenly snapped off his torch and straightened up in an attitude of listening. The straining ears of Carnes and Lieutenant Pearce could hear a faint slithering noise coming toward them, not from the direction of the crack, but from the interior of the cave. Simultaneously a faint, musky, reptilian odor became apparent.

"Run!" shouted the doctor. "Run like hell! It's loose in the cave!"

The lieutenant turned and fled at top speed toward the distant entrance to the cave, Carnes at his heels. Dr. Bird paused for an instant, straining his ears, and then threw a grenade. A blinding flash came from the point where the missile struck and a white cloud rose in the air. The doctor turned and fled after his companions. Not for nothing had Dr. Bird been an athlete of note in his college days. Despite the best efforts of his companions, who were literally running for their lives, he soon caught up with them. As he did so a weird, blood-curdling screech rose from the darkness behind them. Higher and higher in pitch the note rose until it ended suddenly in a gurgling grunt, as though the breath which uttered it had been suddenly cut off. The slithering, rustling noise became louder on their trail.

"Faster!" gasped the doctor, as he put his hand on Carnes' shoulder and pushed him forward.

The noise of pursuit gained slightly on them, and a sound as of intense breathing became audible. Dr. Bird paused and turned and faced the oncoming horror. His electric torch revealed nothing, but he listened for a moment, and then threw his second grenade. Keenly he watched its flight. It flew through the air for thirty yards and then struck an invisible obstruction and bounded toward the ground. Before it struck the downward motion ceased, and it rose in the air. As it rose it burst with a sharp report, and a wild scream of pain filled the cavern with a deafening roar. The doctor fled again after his companions.

By the time he overtook them the entrance of the cave loomed before them. With sobs of relief they burst out into the open. The guards sprang forward with raised rifles, but Dr. Bird waved them back.

"There's nothing after us, men," he panted. "We got chased a little way, but I tossed our pursuer a handful of phosphorus and it must have burned his fingers a little, judging from the racket he made. At any rate, it stopped the pursuit."

The major hurried up.

"Did you see it, Doctor?" he asked.

"No, I didn't. No one has ever seen it or anything like it. I heard it and, from its voice, I think it has a bad cold. At least, it sounded hoarse, so I gave it a little white phosphorus to make a poultice for its throat, but I didn't get a glimpse of it."

"For God's sake, Doctor, what is it?"

"I can't tell you yet, Major. So far I can tell, it is something new to science and I am not sure just what it looks like. However, I hope to be able to show it to you shortly. Is there a telegraph office here?"

"No, but we have a Signal Corps detachment with us, and they have a portable radio set which will put us in touch with the army net."

"Good! Can you place a tent at my disposal?"

"Certainly, Doctor."

"All right, I'll go there, and I would appreciate it if you would send the radio operator to me. I want to send a message to the Bureau of Standards to forward me some apparatus which I need."

"I'll attend to it, Doctor. Have you any special advice to give me about the guarding?"

"Yes. Have you, or can you get, any live stock?"

"Live stock?"

"Yes. Cattle preferred, although hogs or sheep will do at a pinch. Sheep will do quite well."

"I'll see what I can do, Doctor."

"Get them by all means, if it is possible to do so. Don't worry about paying for them: secret service funds are not subject to the same audit that army funds get. If you can locate them, drive a couple of cattle or half a dozen sheep well into the cave and tether them there. If you don't get them, have your sentries posted well away from the cave mouth, and if any disturbance occurs during the night, tell them to break and run. I hope it won't come out, but I can't tell."

A herd of cattle was soon located and two of the beasts driven into the cave. Two hours later a series of horrible screams and bellowings were heard in the cave. Following their orders the sentries abandoned their posts and scattered, but the noise came no nearer the mouth, and in a few minutes silence again reigned.

"I hope that will be all that will be needed for a couple of days," said the doctor to the commanding officer, "but you had better have a couple more cattle driven in in the morning. We want to keep the brute well fed. Is there a tank stationed at Fort Thomas?"

"No, there isn't."

"Then radio Washington that I want the fastest three-man tank that the army has sent here at once. Don't bother with military channels, radio direct to the Adjutant General, quoting the Secretary of the Treasury as authority. Tell him that it's a rush matter, and sign the message 'Bird' if you are afraid of getting your tail twisted."

Twice more before the apparatus which the doctor had ordered from Washington arrived cattle were driven into the depths of the cave, and twice were the screams and bellowings from the cave repeated. Each time searching parties found the cattle gone in the morning. A week after the doctor's arrival, a special train came up, carrying four mechanics from the Bureau of Standards, together with a dozen huge packing cases. Under the direction of the doctor the cases were unpacked and the apparatus put together. Before the assembly had been completed the tank which had been requested arrived from Camp Meade, and the Bureau mechanics began to install some of the assembled units in it.

The first apparatus which was installed in the tank consisted of an electric generator of peculiar design which was geared to the tank motor. The electromotive force thus generated was led across a spark gap with points of a metallic substance. The light produced was concentrated by a series of parabolic reflectors, directed against a large quartz prism, and thence through a lens which was designed to throw a slightly divergent beam.

"This apparatus," Dr. Bird explained to the Signal Corps officer, who was an interested observer, "is one which was designed at the Bureau for the large scale production of ultra-violet light. There is nothing special about the generator except that it is highly efficient and gives an almost constant electromotive force. The current thus produced is led across these points, which are composed of magnalloy, a development of the Bureau. We found on investigation that a spark gave out a light which was peculiarly rich in ultra-violet rays when it was passed between magnesium points. However, such points could not be used for the handling of a steady current because of lack of durability and ease of fusion, so a mixture of graphite, alundum and metallic magnesium was pressed together with a binder which will stand the heat. Thus we get the triple advantages of ultra-violet light production, durability, and high resistance.

"The system of reflectors catches all of the light thus produced except the relatively small portion which goes initially in the right direction, and directs it on this quartz prism where, due to the refractive powers of the prism, the light is broken up into its component parts. The infra-red rays and that portion of the spectrum which lies in the visible range, that is, from red to violet inclusive, are absorbed by a black body, leaving only the ultra-violet portion free to send a beam through this quartz lens."

"I thought that a lens would absorb ultra-violet light," objected the signal officer.

"A lens made of glass will, but this lens is made of rock crystal, which is readily permeable to ultra-violet. The net result of this apparatus is that we can direct before us as we move in the tank a beam of light which is composed solely of the ultra-violet portion of the spectrum."

"In other words, an invisible light?"

"Yes. That is, invisible to the human eye. The effect of this beam of ultra-violet light in the form of severe sunburn would be readily apparent if you exposed your skin to it for any length of time, and the effects on your eyesight of continued gazing would be apt to be disastrous. It would produce a severe opthalmia and temporary impairment of the vision, somewhat the same symptoms as are observed in snow blindness."

"I see. May I ask what is the object of the whole thing?"

"Surely. Before we can successfully combat this peculiar visitant from another world, it is necessary that we gain some idea of the size and appearance of it. Nothing of the sort has before made its appearance, so far as the annals of science go, and so I am forced to make some rather wild guesses at the nature of the animal. You are probably aware of the fact that the property of penetration possessed by all waves is a function of their frequency, or, perhaps I should say, of their wave-length?"

"Certainly."

"The longer rays of visible light will not penetrate as deeply into a given substance as the shorter ultra-violet rays. This visitor is evidently from some unexplored and, indeed, unknown cavern in the depths of the earth where visible light has never penetrated. Apparently in this cavern the color of the inhabitants is ultra-violet, and hence invisible to us."

"You are beyond my depth, Doctor."

"Pardon me. You understand, of course, what color is? When sunlight, which is a mixture of all colors from infra-red to ultra-violet inclusive, falls on an object, certain rays are reflected and certain others are absorbed. If the red rays are reflected and all others absorbed, the object appears red to our eyes. If all the rays are reflected, the object appears white, and if all are absorbed, it appears black."

"I understand that."

"The human eye cannot detect ultra-violet. Suppose then, that we have an object, either animate or inanimate, the surface of which reflects only ultra-violet light, what will be the result? The object will be invisible."

"I should think it would be black if all the rays except the ultra-violet were absorbed."

"It would, but mark, I did not say the others were absorbed. Are you familiar with fluorescein?"

"No."

"I think you are. It is the dye used in making changeable silk. If we fill a glass container with a fluorescein solution and look at it by reflected light it appears green. If we look at it by transmitted light, that is, light which has traversed the solution, it appears red. In other words, this is a substance which reflects green light, allows a free passage to red light, and absorbs all other light. This creature we are after, if my theory is correct, is composed of a substance which allows free passage to all of the visible light rays and at the same time reflects ultra-violet light. Do I make this clear?"

"Perfectly."

"Very well, then. My apparatus will project forward a beam of ultra-violet light which will be in much greater concentration than exists in an incandescent electric light. It is my hope that this light will be reflected by the body of the creature to a sufficient to allow me to make a photograph of it."

"But won't your lens prevent the ultra-violet light from reaching your plate?"

"An ordinary lens made of optical glass would do so, but I have a camera here equipped with a rock crystal lens, which will allow ultra-violet light to pass through it practically unhindered, and with very slight distortion. When I add that I will have my camera charged with X-ray film, a film which is peculiarly sensitive to the shorter wave-lengths, you will see that I will have a fair chance of success."

"It sounds logical. Would you allow me to accompany you when you make your attempt?"

"I will be glad of your company, if you can drive a tank. I want to take Carnes with me, and the tank will only hold two besides the driver."

"I can drive a tractor."

"In that case you should master the tricks of tank driving in short order. Get familiar with it and we'll appoint you as driver. We'll be ready to go in to-night, but I am going to wait a day. Our friend was fed last night, and there is less chance he'll be about."

The early part of the next evening was marked by howls and screams coming from the mouth of the cave. As the night wore on the noises were quite evidently coming nearer and the sentries watched the cave mouth nervously, ready to bolt and scatter according to their orders at the first alarm. About two A. M. the doctor and Carnes climbed into the tank beside Lieutenant Leffingwell, and the machine moved slowly into the cave. A search-light on the front of the tank lighted the way for them and, attached to a frame which held it some distance ahead of them, was a luckless sheep.

"Keep your eye on the mutton, Carnes," cautioned the doctor. "As soon as anything happens to it, shut off the search-light and let me try to get a picture. As soon as I have made my exposures I'll tell you, and you can snap it on again. Lieutenant, when the picture is made, turn your tank and make for the entrance to the cave. If we are lucky, we'll get out."

Forward the tank crawled, the sheep bleating and trying to break loose from the bonds which held it. It was impossible to hear much over the roar of the motor, but presently Dr. Bird leaned forward, his eyes shining.

"I smell musk," he announced. "Get ready for action."

Even as he spoke the sheep was suddenly lifted into the air. It gave a final bleat of terror, and then its head was torn from its body.

"Quick, Carnes!" shouted the doctor.

The search-light went out, and Carnes and the lieutenant could hear the slide of the ultra-violet light which Dr. Bird was manipulating open. For two or three minutes the doctor worked with his apparatus.

"All right!" he cried suddenly. "Lights on and get out of here!"

Carnes snapped on the search-light and Lieutenant Leffingwell swung the tank around and headed for the cave mouth. For a few feet their progress was unhindered and then the tank ceased its forward motion, although the motor still roared and the track slid on the cave floor. Carnes watched with horror as one side of the tank bent slowly in toward him. There was a rending sound, and a portion of the heavy steel fabric was torn away. Dr. Bird bent over something on the floor of the tank. Presently he straightened up and threw a small object into the darkness. There was a flash of light, and bits of flaming phosphorus flew in every direction. The anchor which held the tank was suddenly loosed and the machine crawled forward at full speed, while a roar as of escaping air mingled with a bellowing shriek burdened the smoke-laden air.

"Faster!" cried the doctor, as he threw another grenade.

Lieutenant Leffingwell got the last bit of speed possible out of the tank and they reached the cave mouth without further molestation.

"I had an idea that our friend wouldn't care to pass through a phosphorus screen," said Dr. Bird with a chuckle as he climbed out of the tank. "He must have been rather severely burned the other day, and once burned is usually twice shy. Where is Major Brown?"

The commanding officer stepped forward.

"Drive a couple of cattle into the cave, Major," directed Dr. Bird. "I want to fill that brute up and keep him quiet for a while. I'm going to develop my films."

Lieutenant Leffingwell and Carnes peered over the doctor's shoulders as he manipulated his films in a developing bath. Gradually vague lines and blotches made their appearance on one of the films, but the form was indistinct. Dr. Bird dropped the films in a fixing tank and straightened up.

"We have something, gentlemen," he announced, "but I can't tell yet how clear it is. It will take those films fifteen minutes to fix, and then we'll know."

In a quarter of an hour he lifted the first film from the tank and held it to the light. The film showed a blank. With an exclamation of disappointment he lifted a second and third film from the tank, with the same result He raised the fourth one.

"Good Lord!" gasped Carnes.

In the plate could be plainly seen the hind quarters of the sheep held in the grasp of such a monster as even the drug-laden brain of an opium smoker never pictured. Judging from the sheep, the monster stood about twenty feet tall, and its frame was surmounted by a head resembling an overgrown frog. Enormous jaws were opened to seize the sheep but, to the amazement of the three observers, the jaws were entirely toothless. Where teeth were to be expected, long parallel ridges of what looked like bare bone, appeared, without even a rudimentary segregation into teeth. The body of the monster was long and snakelike, and was borne on long, heavy legs ending in feet with three long toes, armed with vicious claws. The crowning horror of the creature was its forelegs. There were of enormous length, thin and attenuated looking, and ended in huge misshapen hands, knobby and blotched, which grasped the sheep in the same manner as human hands. The eyes were as large as dinner plates, and they were glaring at the camera with an expression of fiendish malevolence which made Carnes shudder.

"How does that huge thing ever get through that crack we examined?" demanded the lieutenant.

Dr. Bird rubbed his head thoughtfully.

"It's not an amphibian," he muttered, "as is plainly shown by the shape of the limbs and the lack of a tail, and yet it appears to have scales of the true fish type. It corresponds to no recovered fossil, and I am inclined to believe it is unique. The nervous organisation must be very low, judging from the lack of forehead and the general conformation. It has enormous strength, and yet the arms look feeble."

"It can't get through that crack," insisted the lieutenant.

"Apparently not," replied the doctor. "Wait a moment, though. Look at this!"

He pointed to the great disproportion between the length and diameter of the forelegs, and then to the hind legs.

"Either this is grave distortion or there is something mighty queer about that conformation. No animal could be constructed like that."

He turned the film so that an oblique light fell on it. As he did so he gave a cry of astonishment.

"Look here!" he said sharply. "It does get through that crack! Look at those arms and hands! There is the answer. This creature is tall and broad, but from front to rear it can measure only a few inches. The same must be true of the froglike head. That animal has been developed to live and move in a low roofed cavern, and to pass through openings only a few inches wide. Its bulk is all in two dimensions!"

"I believe you're right," said Carnes as he studied the film.

"There is no doubt of it," answered the doctor. "Look at those paws, too, Carnes. That substance isn't bone, it's gum. The thing is so young and helpless that it hasn't cut its teeth yet. It must be a baby, and that is the reason why it made its way into the cave when no other of its kind ever has."

"How large are full grown ones if this is a baby?" asked the lieutenant.

"The Lord alone knows," replied Dr. Bird. "I hope that I never have to face one and find out. Well, now that we know what we are fighting, we ought to be able to settle its hash."

"High explosive?" suggested the lieutenant.

"I don't think so. With such a low nervous organization, we would have to tear it practically to pieces to kill it, and I am anxious to keep it from mutilation for scientific study. I have an idea, but I'll have to study a while before I am sure of the details. Send me the radio operator."

The next day the Bureau mechanics began to dismount the apparatus from the tank and to assemble another elaborate contrivance. Before they had made an end of the work additional equipment arrived from Washington, which was incorporated in the new set-up. At length Dr. Bird pronounced himself ready for the attempt.

Under his direction, three cattle were driven into the cave and there tethered. They were there the next morning unharmed, but the second night the now familiar bellowing and howling came from the depths of the cave and in the morning two of the cattle were gone.

"That will keep him quiet for a day or two," said the doctor, "and now to work!"

The tank made its way into the cave, dragging after it two huge cables which led to an engine-driven generator outside the cave. These cables were attached to the terminals of a large motor which was set up in the cave near the place where the cattle were customarily tethered. This motor was the actuating force which turned two generators, one large and one small. The smaller one was mounted on a platform on wheels, which also contained the spark gaps, the reflectors and other apparatus which produced the beam of ultra-violet light which had been used to photograph the monster.

From the larger generator led two copper bars. One of these was connected to a huge copper plate which was laid flat on the floor of the cave. The other led to a platform which was erected on huge porcelain insulators some fifteen feet above the floor. Huge condensers were set up on this platform, and Dr. Bird announced himself in readiness.

A steer was dragged into the cave and up a temporary runway which led to the platform containing the condensers, and there tied with the copper bus bar from the larger generator fastened to three flexible copper straps which led around the animal's body. When this had been completed, everyone except the doctor, Carnes, and Lieutenant Leffingwell left the cave. These three crouched behind the search-light which sent a mild beam of ultra-violet onto the platform where the steer was held. The engine outside the cave was started, and the three men waited with tense nerves.

For several hours nothing happened. The steer tried from time to time to move and, finding it impossible, set up plaintive bellows for liberty.

"I wish something would happen," muttered the lieutenant. "This is getting on my nerves.

"Something is about to happen," replied Dr. Bird grimly. "Listen to that steer."

The bellowing of the steer had suddenly increased in volume and, added to the note of discontent, was a note of fright which had previously been absent. Dr. Bird bent over his ultra-violet search-light and made some adjustments. He handed a helmetlike arrangement to each of his companions and slipped one on over his head.

"I can't see a thing, Doctor," said Carnes in a muffled voice.

"The objects at which you are looking absorb rather than reflect ultra-violet light," said the doctor. "This is a sort of a fluoroscope arrangement, and it isn't perfect at all. However, when the monster comes along, I am pretty sure that you will be able to see it. You may see a little more as your eyes get accustomed to it."

"I can see very dimly," announced the lieutenant in a moment.

Dimly the walls of the cave and the platform before them began to take vague shape. The three stared intently down the beam of ultra-violet light which the doctor directed down the passageway leading deeper into the cave.

"Good Lord!" ejaculated Carnes suddenly.

Slowly into the field of vision came the hideous figure they had seen on the film. As it moved forward a rustling, slithering sound could be heard, even over the bellowing of the steer and the hum of the apparatus. The odor of musk became evident.

Along the floor toward them the thing slid. Presently it reared up on its hind legs and its enormous bulk became evident. It turned somewhat sideways and the correctness of Dr. Bird's hypothesis as to its peculiar shape was proved. All of the bulk of the creature was in two dimensions. Forward it moved, and the horrible human hands stretched forward, while the mouth split in a wide, toothless grin. Nearer the doomed steer the creature approached, and then the reaching hands closed on the animal.

There was a blinding flash, and the monster was hurled backward as though struck by a thunderbolt, while a horrible smell of musk and burned flesh filled the air.

"After it! Quick!" cried the doctor as he sprang forward.

Before he could reach the prostrate creature it moved and then, slowly at first, but with rapidly gaining speed, it slithered over the floor in retreat. Dr. Bird's hand swung through an arc, and there was a deafening crash as a hand-grenade exploded on the back of the fleeing monster.

An unearthly scream came from the creature, and its motion changed from a steady forward glide to a series of convulsive jerks. Leffingwell and Carnes threw grenades, but they went wide of their mark, and the monster began to again increase its speed. Another volley of grenades was thrown and one hit scored, which slowed the monster somewhat but did not arrest the steady forward movement.

"Any more bombs?" demanded the doctor.

"Damn!" he cried as he received negative answers. "The current wasn't strong enough. It's going to get away."

Carnes jerked his automatic from under his armpit and poured a stream of bullets into the fleeing monster. Slower and slower the motion of the creature became, and its movements again became jerky and convulsive.

"Keep it in sight!" cried the doctor. "We may get it yet!"

Cautiously the three men followed the retreating horror, Leffingwell pushing before him the platform holding the ultra-violet ray apparatus. The chase led them over familiar ground.

"There is the crack!" cried the lieutenant.

"Too late!" replied the doctor.

He rushed forward and seized the lower limb of the monster and tried with all his strength to arrest its flight, but despite all that he could do it slid sideways through the crack in the wall and disappeared. A final backward kick of its leg threw the doctor twenty feet against the far wall of the cave.

"Are you hurt, Doctor?" cried Carnes.

"No, I'm all right. Put on your masks and start the gas! Quick! That may stop it before it gets in far!"

The three adjusted gas masks and thrust the mouths of two gas cylinders which were on the light truck into the crack, and opened the valves. The hissing of the gas was accompanied by a thrashing, writhing sound from the bowels of the earth for a few minutes, but the sound retreated and finally died away into an utter silence.

"And that's that!" cried the doctor half an hour later as they took off their gas masks outside the cave. "It got away from us. Carnes, how soon can we get a train back to Washington?"

"What kind of a report are you going to make to the Bureau, Doctor?" asked Carnes as they sat in the smoker of a southern train, headed for the capital.

"I'm not going to put in any report, Carnes," replied the doctor. "I haven't got the creature or any part of it to show, and no one would believe me. I am going to maintain a discreet silence about the whole matter."

"But you have your photograph to show, Doctor, and you have my evidence and Lieutenant Leffingwell's."

"The photograph might have been faked and I might have doped both of you. In any case, your words are no better than mine. No, indeed, Carnes, when I failed to make the current strong enough to kill it outright I made the first of the moves which bind me to silence, although I thought that two hundred thousand volts would be enough.

"The second failure I made was when I missed him with my second grenade, although I doubt if all six would have stopped him. My third failure was when we failed to get a sufficient concentration of cyanide gas into that hole in a hurry. The thing is so badly crippled that it will die, but it may take hours, or even days, for it to do so. It has already made its way so far into the earth that we couldn't reach it by blasting without danger of bringing the whole place down on our heads. Even if we could blast our way into the place it came from I wouldn't dare open a path which would allow Lord only knows what terrible monsters to invade the earth. When the soldiers have finished stopping that crack with ten feet of solid masonry, I think the barrier will hold, even against that critter's papa and mamma and all its relatives. Then Mammoth Cave will be safe for visitors again. That latter fact is the only report which I will make."

"It is a dandy story to go to waste," said Carnes soberly.

"Tell it then, if you wish, and get laughed at for your pains. No, Carnes, you must learn one thing. A man like Bolton, for instance, will implicitly believe that a four leaf clover in his watch-charm will bring him good luck, and that carrying a buckeye keeps rheumatism away from him; but tell him a bit of sober fact like this, attested by three reliable witnesses and a good photograph, and you'll just get laughed at for your pains. I'm going to keep my mouth shut."

"So be it, then!" replied Carnes with a sigh.

[fel-mi-er]

The Weather Outside Is Frightful ( But The Yarn Is So Delightful )

continued from here

 “  you  crafted  this?  in your spare time,  that’s quite impressive.  ” Where before Sebek's expression seemed grumpy and defensive, it now softened into something like awe. “  you must teach me sometime,  skills like these are overlooked  -  very useful,  in the case that one needs to mend their own uniform.  ”

Epel felt himself getting a little bashful, and a little more proud. Impressive, he called it impressive. He was glad that the guy liked it, and even gladder to have his craftsmanship appreciated for what it was: a useful skill that Epel had honed in his hometown, and that more people would do good to know.

"I'm very glad you like it! I hope you like green, I used it to match your uniform, and also your hair I g- I suppose. Somehow I thought that the lightning bolt would suit you. I used a stockinette stich to keep things flat since I didn't know if you would be adverse to bumpy textures, but I used a garter stitch on tha- the border so that the ends wouldn't curl up on you. The yarn is quality too, I get it from--" he realized that he had been rambling a bit, which probably wasn't proper, "-- from home." he finished quietly. He really was glad that Sebek liked it, and he was really proud because he knew he had done a good job.

Sebek hadn't called him creepy, turned his nose up at the gift, or insinuated that knitting was for girls. So far, this was a win.

"I could certainly teach you, just let me know when you aren't doing anything. It's really not as hard as it looks-- I also know how to sew, and crochet, and I've been thinking about picking up embroidery as well. I can sort of do it, but I want to get better, I mean. My me- grandmother is wonderful at it, much better than me." he smiled down at Sebek. He could have sat next to him, but he was quite enjoying not having to look up at someone.

This had gone leagues better than expected.

@zigvoltage