#ch: mercy lewis

[37sommz-archive]

✼. MOTHER, MAY I | 2019.

CH. 06. NOW PLAYING: stfu! by rina sawayama [fluff, lil angsty]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela and lewis have a chat, 1.5k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 02, 2019 — austin, usa

If the pounding in Michaela’s head told her anything, it was probably that Austin had been a dizzying show of form. Though she was slated to start sixth in Sunday’s race, Michaela found herself begging the racing gods for mercy. 

The Austin wind paired with the fantastic glimmer of shuttering cameras, had left her struggling to keep her happy smile plastered to her face. Those who noticed the absence of her familiar joyfulness were loud about their observations. She had been put on blast all weekend by reporters, drivers, and social media alike, her thrilling qualifying performance forgotten amidst the generous flow of speculation.

Dodging questions about her personal life—one of the more helpful recommendations Sebastian had gifted her during her time as a reserve—she quickly settled on repeating the same half-assed response every time, “I’m taking a page out of Kimi’s book.” They would laugh and move on, realizing they would be wasting precious airtime attempting to get much of anything out of the Australian driver.

The tiny bit of solace she finds against the wall her blonde waves rest against is stolen in a millisecond as she hears footsteps approaching her. They are gentle yet confident, the contrast perfectly matching the driver to whom they belong. Slowly releasing a sigh of mild grief before beginning to straighten her form, any conscious thoughts are pulled from her mind once she matches the footsteps to the driver. With his hair tucked underneath his Mercedes cap, braids carefully pulled into a signature ponytail, finding Lewis Hamilton smiling down at her practically shakes any aches from Michaela’s system.

“Easy,” he laughs, the sound as relaxed as it was worried. His eyebrows dip as he frowns at the state of the 19-year-old sat below him. Pulling a stray chair to sit beside her, he recovers his frown with a tight-lipped smile. Michaela pales in response as she suddenly finds herself shy of his attention. The two drivers had barely had any time to talk during the younger’s debut season. Though words of congratulations had been exchanged through press conferences, there had been little time for any personal chats. 

“Sorry, I’m a mess at the moment,” she rushes to explain her current condition. Waving a hand at the frantic cope, Lewis shifts his body to face Michaela head-on. 

“How has everything been for you? The team, the media, the fans?” His voice is a calming force settling over the air shared between them. It is then that Michaela takes notice, with self-admitted shock, of the clearness of his skin and the cleanliness of his parts. The famous stud adorning his left nostril seemed to catch the lights brilliantly in a way that only seemed to mock the headache they had given to her. 

Nodding slowly she responds with a practiced carefulness, “Not the easiest.” 

Lewis simply laughs at her answer. Throwing his head back as if she had told the grandest of jokes. His amusement is quickly explained with a loud, “Welcome to Formula One!” 

She chuckles at his reaction. Though it is measured and ends as soon as his does, her shoulders relax as the tension holding them up begins to ease. An air of calm falls between the two drivers as they settle into candid conversation.

“You’ve done pretty well though,” He hums as he nudges his chair ever so slightly closer to hers. Attempting to keep her cool, Michaela nearly misses the caveat of, “From what I’ve seen so far”, that he adds to the thought, a shrug added to emphasize his point of view. 

She sighs in response to the addition. The roll of her eyes, so natural with a practiced ease, draws another laugh out of Lewis. 

“I’m in an Alfa Romeo, it’d be pretty hard to make it worse than it already is.” 

The Mercedes driver moves a tattooed hand to cover his mouth in mild shock the Australian rookie could be so bold. His eyes widen with another bout of amusement, the deep chuckle he tries to suppress managing to escape against the brown of his skin. Her typically subdued nature in press conferences had surely misled him of her true personality. There in the seldom-used hallways she had managed to find in Austin, Lewis found a spark in her eyes typically hidden underneath the pink and white of her famous helmet. 

The older driver leans back to take a peak around the corner, muttering, “You never know who’s around these fuckin’ corners.” 

Clearing his throat, he moves to offer a bit of sympathy to the rookie. With eyes shifting again, this time to true poise, he levels his speech. “The first few seasons are always rough. But I think you’re one of the more capable drivers on the grid. No doubt you’ll be in a better car before long.” 

As Michaela flushes, shying away from the compliment, he attempts to wave off the show of humility. 

“I’m serious, anybody who says otherwise? Fuck ‘em.” His shoulders rise in a show of nonchalance. Hands gesturing outwards catch Michaela’s eye as they crinkle in amusement.

It is Michaela’s turn to laugh out loud. Though her amusement is more subdued to be shared between the two of them, the grace she extends to the great seated in front of her is tangible. Waves of gratitude roll off her being and surround the two of them in a blanket of understanding. 

“Can’t say that in these pressers yet,” She chuckles as her laughter subsides a few beats later. “They’d have me out on my arse by the morning.” 

Her eyes roll again, annoyance replacing the ocean of gratitude she had previously been submerged in. The shift catches Lewis’ attention as he leans back against his chair. His comfort is immediately obvious to the rookie whose cheeks redden to her embarrassment.

“Yeah, that clause in your contract? What’s that all about?” His eyebrows furrow as the slightest of wrinkles around the perimeter of his eyes crinkle just the same. His lips pull into a frown as he awaits Michaela’s response. 

“The shut up clause?” She huffs in reply. A graceful, manicured hand reaches up to massage at her temples. Her dark eyes close as she feels the weight of all the season’s pressure fall back onto her shoulders. 

“If that’s what we’re calling it.” Lewis hums. The concern remains on his face despite his gentle curiosity.

“It’s supposed to keep me ‘in line’.” Her fingers signal quotations around the phrase. “They could fine me for any statements they think unfairly scrutinize them or the FIA.” When Lewis cocks an eyebrow with a questioning tilt of his hair, Michaela offers a clarification: the ‘them’ in question being Alfa Romeo.

“Damn,” He mutters with a disapproving shake of his head. “Didn’t know they could even put that in a contract.” When Michaela doesn’t respond, her head finds its way back against the white linoleum-lined walls, and Lewis takes a breath. 

“Who negotiated that?” He inquires as his lips pull into a line.

An ironic chuckle escapes the younger driver who offers a simple response. “They wouldn’t sign me without it… had to… compromise.” The words are just barely strung together, loose and uncommitted as they hang in the air. 

“Shut up clause.” Lewis muses with a scoff. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he sits up in his chair. “How long’s the contract? Two years?” When Michaela only offers a nod in affirmation, Lewis’ arms cross as if communicating his disappointment through solidarity.

The silence continues to freeze the previous ease of conversation. As the rumble of the anxious press floods through the walls separating the two from the waiting craze outside of their presumed sanctuary, Lewis’ phone begins to ring. The contact name of his Press Officer appears in bolded white at the top of the screen. Both drivers release a sigh through their lips, moving to stand from their comfortable seats. Though Lewis’ fingers twitch in an effort to respond to the call, he takes a brief moment to encourage the rookie driver.

“Being the first is never easy. There’s people waiting to see you crash, literally.” The added warning draws a tight-lipped chuckle from the Australian. “Don’t give them the satisfaction of failure, yeah? Experience everything with a cool head, make them eat their words.” Michaela nods in understanding, eyes wide as she hangs on to every syllable of the British driver’s wise words.

With a final, “Keep pushing, kid. You’re the shit”, he departs from her side. His phone raises to his ear as he huffs out an excuse to the woman on the other end, a jog in his steps as he disappears down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, Michaela’s feet carry her to follow him.

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[storiesofsvu]

Fortuitous Reunion Ch 9

Rita Calhoun x reader Warnings: language, kidnapping, physical assault, very angry/overprotective Rita, hurt/comfort, angst, self defense. things get heavy.

While you were excited for the change of scenery, you were honestly much more excited about seeing your best friend again. It had been a few months by now, both of you busy with work and more that you hadn’t seen each other since Sophie’s last day at Mercy, only communicating through a small handful of texts. You practically bounded into the patient room, missing the cop posted outside the door, launching into a hug with her once you noticed the patient was unconscious.

“Oh my god! You’re finally here!” She greeted enthusiastically, “it was getting boring around here without you!”

“It’s good to see you too.” You laughed, reaching for the chart, “what’s this guy in for?”

“Multiple rapes and murders, I think I heard he kidnapped a cop?”

“I meant medically….but thanks for the heads up, I will not uncuff him when he tries to bribe me later.” You flipped through his chart as Sophie laughed.

“So….any new wedding plans I should know about? What’s the hot gossip?”

“Nothing wedding related,” you laughed, “but I do have some big news.” Sophie gasped dramatically,

“Oh my God! Did you guys change your mind on the kid front? Are you pregnant?!”

“No.” Your face scrunched, “do you think Rita would let me anywhere near a prison ward if I was pregnant?”

“Good point.” She nodded.

“I..found my birth Mom.”

“Oh?! What’s she like?”

“You actually already know her.”

“I do?”

“Olivia…”

“Captain Benson?” You nodded, “talk about a small world.”

“I know!” You moved from the foot of the bed as you checked the man’s vitals, beginning to draw some blood, “we’ve been hanging out on a pretty regular basis the past couple of months. She’s honestly incredible, so sweet, but also a major bad ass at the same time.”

“Safe to say you’re getting along then?”

“Enough that she’s giving me away at the wedding, yeah.”

“Y/n that’s incredible.”

“It’s like..everything’s kinda come full circle and fallen into place perfectly.” You smiled, “I couldn’t be happier.”

“I’m glad.”

“Okay.” You popped the top on the vial, “his vitals are fine. I’ll page cardio but I know they’re backed up right now so it might be a while.”

“It’s fine.” Sophie waved it off, “he’s not 911. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“I’ll drop this off at the lab and do a round before I come back. Lunch on me?”

“Sounds perfect.” Sophie shot you a grin as you left the room. You were so thankful to have your best friend back in your daily life, as much as everything was falling into place in your personal life, your professional life always enjoyed a little bit of a shake up. You supposed that’s why you got into nursing, as much as it was a lot of paperwork or idly waiting for tradgedy to strike, there was a certain thrill element that gave you a rush, helped retain your interest to keep going to work every day.

It didn’t take long for you to find the lab, you managed to run into a cardiologist on the way and after running over the info they agreed it wasn’t a top priority, but to keep checking in just in case something went awry.

*

“Cap!” Carisi swung into Olivia’s office, a fire burning in his gut, the stiffness evident in his voice as he glanced up, realizing that Rita was sitting across from Olivia’s desk. “Sorry for interruptin’ but we have a problem.”

“What’s going on?”

“Lewis is gone.”

“What? How?”

“I dunno. He assaulted Sophie, left her tied up in the bathroom.” His voice was nearly a low growl as he admitted it, “they’re trying to track down Y/N right now.”

“What do you mean track her down?!” Rita turned in the chair, fully paying attention to the conversation, her heart already picking up in her chest, you weren’t one to just ditch the job.

“She was the last one in the room with the two of ‘em. Soph said she went to drop off labs and find someone from cardio. She also said…and I hate ta pry like this but they had a conversation about you bein’ Y/N’s birth mother in the room. They thought he was unconscious, but there’s a chance Lewis knows she’s your daughter.”

“Have you tried calling her?” Rita shot back, “page her! It’s a goddamn hospital!” Sonny nearly shrunk at the woman’s tone, it was already shifting into her courtroom voice, and despite his own raging emotions he wasn’t about to battle with hers. Thankfully they were saved by Liv’s phone going off,

“It’s her.” She stated before picking up, “sweetheart we’re on our way now. Stay with Sophie we’ll be there in twenty.” The dark chuckle on the other end of the phone made her blood run cold.

“Captain Benson…I had no idea you had such a pretty young thing for a daughter.” Lewis’ voice drawled through the line.

“You do not lay a hand on her!”

Rita’s head snapped toward the other woman, a warning glare already in her eyes as her jaw clenched, how the hell did this happen? Olivia heard a muffled cry from the other side of the phone before Lewis spoke again, this time his voice a little distant as he directed his comment to you.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Oliva jumped at the sound of something colliding with your head and then Lewis was back on the line with her, “I couldn’t get you, guess I’ll have to settle for the next best thing. I wonder if she’s as fiesty as you were. What do you think? Will she put up as much of a fight?”

“Lewis!”- the line went dead.

“Find them now.” Rita practically growled toward Benson, who held up a warning hand.

“Rita..”

“No. Three years…three fucking years I have kept her out of this kind of world, and completely safe! She was fine! She was totally out of harms way for three years! Three months knowing that you’re her Mom and she gets abducted?!”

“She’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that. Goddammit Olivia! This is William Lewis we’re talking about! He managed to kidnap, torture and nearly rape and kill you! You’re a cop! You’re trained with guns, how to de-escalate high stress situations, how to fight! She doesn’t know any of that! Whatever the fuck happens to her is on you, I hope you realize that.”

“Counsellor…” Carisi warned gently. The shouting match in the office had brought attention of the rest of the squad, awkwardly hovering in the open doorway behind Carisi.

“No. She is my world. And I refuse to lose her. So you are going to walk out that door and you are going to do your fucking jobs and find her before he can lay a finger on her. Do I make myself clear?”

Olivia dropped her head into her hands, trying to hold it together while also trying to clear her head enough to make a game plan. Rita was right, Lewis was a force to be reckoned with. Her mind flashed back to the memories she’d tried so hard to keep buried down, the horrible emotional and physical pain brought on by those three days that she still had to live with every day. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially her daughter, you’d done nothing to deserve this, simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong (hypothetical) last name. Taking a deep breath she wiped the stray tear, turning to her team.

“Carisi, go with Rollins to Bellevue. Get Sophie’s statement, get a bolo out on her car. Put a squad car on her and get one on Lucy and Noah. Rollins can follow the bolo, but you’re there as a boyfriend, not a cop. Understood?” He gave a tight nod, turning to his partner, “Fin, Amaro, track Y/N’s phone, even if he’s tossed it it’ll give us an idea of what direction they’re heading in. Start checking traffic cams and toll booths for any hint of Lewis. We have a slight advantage here, we know how he works.”

“We also know he probably wants to be found.” Rollins cut in, all eyes shot to her and she shrugged towards the Captain, “he wants you. He wants your attention, he just happens to have the best leverage he can get.”

“And what!?” Rita shot, “Y/n just becomes collateral damage?”

“It won’t come to that.” Olivia replied, “Rollins is right. Let’s get eyes on that beach house from last time. Go!” With that last urgency, the squad scattered, and fast. Liv turned back to the one woman left in her office, “Rita…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I could promise you that she won’t be hurt but…”

“Just get her back to me. Please.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Tears flooded into Rita’s eyes, her previous anger burnt off, replaced with absolute terror of what this monster was capable of. If he could do as much damage to Benson as she’d seen, she didn’t even want to think about how you were going to come out of this…if you were going to at all.

*

A sudden burning against your abdomen wrenched you out of your unconscious state, a scream muffled by the duct tape over your lips.

“There she is.” The man chuckled, tossing the car’s cigarette lighter back to the front seat, “I thought I mighta’ hit you too hard princess.” You squirmed away as he traced down the side of your face with a stolen scalpel, “I’m gonna take this tape off now. If you so much as think about making a noise you’re dead you hear me?” He cocked an eye brow and you nodded, “good girl.” He stashed the scalpel into the front pocket of your scrub top, “we’ll save that for later.”

You gasped for air the second the tape was off, your head still throbbing from the earlier hit you’d taken. Lewis tugged you out of the back seat of the car, you stumbled on your feet, having been shoved into such an uncomfortable angle for so long. You appeared to be at an off the beaten track gas station, he’d parked around back, a curve of trees hiding you from view from the highway. There was a second car parked nearby, you didn’t miss the trail of blood leading from it to the trunk of Sophie’s, trembling at the thought. Lewis chuckled as he quickly led you to the backseat of the stolen one.

“You’re much more compliant than Captain Benson was. It’s a shame she didn’t tell me she had a daughter…you’re much more my type.”

“Wh-“ you were cut off suddenly by another piece of tape sealing your lips shut. What did Liv have to do with this? Your brain scrambled as he roughly shoved you into the backseat, it suddenly became very clear when you remembered Sophie’s words to you earlier that afternoon. Multiple rapes and murders….a kidnapped cop. That cop had to be Olivia. You felt your eyes burn with tears, a shaky breath trying to escape you as you did your best not to think of what this man had in store for you. You half watched him pop the trunk, not liking the sound of the low whistle and laughter coming from that direction as he viewed its contents. You jolted when he reappeared in the doorway,

“These are gonna be much more fun, don’t ya think princess?” In his hand was a small collection of what looked like hunting or fishing knives. You specifically cringed at the serrated blade of one of them, not wanting to have any idea of what it felt like. He tossed all but one into the passanger seat, “shall we try this one out first?”

You instinctively jerked when his bony hand enclosed around your ankle, you were tempted to try and kick his face but you knew that wouldn’t do much good considering your position, your hands were bound, and he had a weapon in his hands, you wouldn’t make it far. The knife slipped under the leg of your pants, his hand swiftly moving upwards as it sliced through the fabric, he twisted it at the end, slicing into your thigh. The tears burning in your eyes began to slip through the cracks, streaking your face as the blood slowly leaked onto the torn fabric of your pants.

“Yeah…these’ll work much better.” Lewis laughed,  slamming the back door shut before he moved to the drivers seat. “You’re such a good playmate princess.” Even just his gaze made you squirm, there had been no doubt in your mind that this man was a fucking monster earlier, but you were praying that somewhere down the road, he would fuck up, preferably sooner rather than later.

*

Back at the precinct Rita’s hands were shaking in her lap. In hindsight maybe that fourth cup of coffee wasn’t a good idea after all. It’s not like she was having trouble staying alert right now, her brain was shooting all of the horrible thoughts it could at her about what was potentially happening to you right now. She remembered hearing about his last case, the damage he’d done to so many people, Olivia included. While the other woman had never opened up about it to her, she knew her injuries had been bad, and she knew that Lewis enjoyed torturing his victims. For the sake of your sanity, there was a part of her that wished he would accidentally fuck up, killing you instantly. At least then she would know you hadn’t suffered too much.

They’d found your phone on the side of the road where Lewis had ditched it after calling Liv, it wasn’t far from the hospital, but gave them a general idea that he might be heading South, though that didn’t make much sense. It was close enough to the Williamsburg Bridge that he could have potentially trapped himself on the peninsula and they began flooding the zone with uni’s.

Sophie’s car turned up at an isolated gas station fourty five minutes later. There was blood and hair in the backseat, and worst of all, a dead body in the trunk. They managed to thankfully ID him, and put a bolo out on all and any vehicles he owned the squad knew time was of the essence and they were slowly running out as the sun sank over the city.

Olivia glanced across the squad room, through the door to her office, as worried as she was about you, she knew Rita was absolutely terrified, and she couldn’t blame her. While Rita may not have been privy to exactly how dirty Lewis liked to play, that was still the love of her life being held captive with some psychopath. The one she’d waited so long to find, the one who made her incredibly soft, loving, the complete opposite of the woman she was on the outside. Now as Olivia watched her wipe away a fresh set of tears, hunched over on the couch, she saw a completely different woman. One that was utterly broken, scared, one who probably cared more about you than she did about herself. She was merely a shell of her other powerful, and warm woman that she used to be. Olivia couldn’t let that be the woman that Rita became, she had to get you back, not for herself, but for your true love. She would go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you walked down that damn aisle, even if she had to sacrifice herself to make it happen. It was what you and Rita deserved.

Rita’s head tilted slightly as her phone buzzed, she’d been screening her calls, obviously more involved with finding you, even if all she was doing was sitting in Liv’s office crying over the thought of never seeing you again. This notification piqued her interest, grabbing the phone, practically stumbling to the doorway.

“Liv!” Olivia’s head swiveled back to Rita, brows furrowed as she jogged over to Rita.

“What?”

“They’re in the Hamptons.”

“What? How do you know?” Rita flipped the phone, an image of Lewis practically dragging you in the back door of a beach house.

“Security notifications come straight to my phone, you need to call the local p.d now! Call them off, if he hears sirens, I’m worried….” She took a shaky breath, “I’m worried what he’ll do.”

Rita quickly rattled off the address as Liv got everyone caught up, her hand already dialing the local police to not engage, that they had this handled and were on their way. Rita knew there was no way this was just an off chance, sure, Lewis liked the idea of the abandoned beach town, no one would be around since the weather had started to chill. But there was no way in hell he randomly picked her Hamptons house. There was some part of you that was still semi conscious enough to get him to agree to going there. She was now more thankful than ever that she’d had the cameras set up last year, she wasn’t even sure if you knew about them, maybe you’d just been trying to get somewhere familiar, somewhere you could pretend what was happening wasn’t as bad as it was.

*

When you came to for the third time that day, you groaned, your entire fucking body ached, littered with little cuts and burns. Somewhere along the way you remembered that you’d read somewhere that the more you fight back, the more likely they were to just give up and let you go without finishing the job.

As it turned out, that was not the case that applied here.

You’d taken quite the beating once inside the house, you were certain a couple of ribs were broken, and you could feel even more bruising beginning to form underneath your skin. You’d be feeling these injuries for a while, if you made it out of here. Basically the only thing keeping you going at this point was Rita, you had to hold on for her, you couldn’t possibly leave her alone in this horrible version of the world.

You tried to move your body, remembering when you did that he had your wrists individually duct taped to the spires in the headboard. You’d been cautiously wriggling against them since he bound you, thankful that the heat was for some reason turned on in the house, even the slightest bit of sweat could help melt some of the glue on your skin.

“Awe…you’re awake princess.” He sneered as he re-entered the room, “ready for round two?”

“Please…no…” your voice was hoarse, tears budding in the corners of your eyes. The gash on your leg had steadily been leaking for hours, you felt completely exhausted, you weren’t sure how much more fight you had left in you. He chuckled darkly again, you shrieked as he tore what was left of your pants off right before he wrenched at your body, flipping you onto your stomach. The yelp started out from the pain of your shoulders moving in ways they probably shouldn’t, but grew louder at the sudden stabbing in your chest.

“You can scream all you want out here…no one’s gonna hear you.”

You practically sobbed into the pillow, feeling the bed dip with his weight, the clinking of his belt buckle. He traced one of the hunting knives up the inside of your leg, too distracted with playing with his prey that he didn’t notice you wriggling against the duct tape. You realized what was stabbing you in the chest. He’d swiped your ID badge back at the hospital, but your brain thankfully remembered the scalpel he had stashed in your pocket, clearly forgetting about it once he discovered the bigger knives. You knew that the tape on your left wrist was loosened, with enough force, you’d probably be able to get out, even if it meant breaking your wrist in the process. The cold blade of the knife was suddenly at your lower back, pressing in slightly right as it dipped into the waistband of your underwear, a muffled cry escaped your lips.

A car door slammed outside, pulling Lewis’ attention and while it may only be brief, and he may have the larger knife, you had a much better knowledge of human anatomy. Using all of your lasting energy, you ripped your hand from the loose tape (a scream ripping from your lips at the pain), grabbing the scalpel as you did your best to roll over under his weight. One deep swipe to his carotid and you ducked under your free arm, doing the best you could to keep his now dead weight, and gushing blood off your face.

You jumped when you heard a loud crash from the direction of the front door, your heart rate slightly coming back to earth when you heard Olivia’s voice shouting through the house.

“Get the fuck off her!” She didn’t realize he was already dead, a sob escaping your lips bringing her attention back to you as she shoved his body off you. “Honey…it’s okay…it’s okay. I’m gonna need you to put that down, okay?” Your eyes moved to your trembling hand, not even realizing you were still holding a weapon, you dropped it instantly as if it was burning into your skin.

“Rita?” You choked out.

“She’s here, she’s outside sweetheart.” You could hear other members of the squad sweeping the rest of the house as Liv did her best to calm you down. She swiftly used the knife to free you of your other bond, your un-injured hand cradling your broken one. “There’s EMT’s outside, we need to get you checked out.” Your gaze dropped to your body, littered in marks, your scrub top soaked with Lewis’ blood, your shredded pants lay next to the bed.

“Bottom drawer.” You murmured. Olivia suddenly remembered that this was Rita’s house, you were bound to know where things were.

Swiftly moving through the room she had you in a fresh pair of pyjama pants quickly, taking a moment to hold you to her. Breathing out a sigh of relief that they’d gotten to you before Lewis had hit his limit, and that you’d done a pretty decent job protecting yourself. You did have some of that Benson blood in you after all.

Once you were down the porch steps your eyes were searching for Rita, finding her near the ambulance. She let out a strangled cry at the sight of you, part of it relieved that you were still alive, the other half of her absolutely disintegrating at how much blood you were covered in. She pushed past the barrier of cops as you half jogged toward her, ignoring the pain of your leg.

The instant you were in her arms you broke, buried against her coat while the sobs heaved through your body, the pain in your ribs making you cry even harder. You’d done your best to stay strong for far too long, you’d put it all into fighting back, into saving as much of your dignity that you could. Now, wrapped in Rita’s embrace you were finally able to let it all come crashing out. You could feel her own tears dropping against your skin, her body shaking with breaths as she held you.

“Lewis?” She asked over the top of your head to Liv.

“Dead.”

“I didn’t hear a shot.”

“She slit his throat.” Liv gestured toward you, Rita pulled the slightest bit away, glancing down at your face.

“Am..am I in trouble?” You asked through your cries.

“No honey, absolutely not.” Even with Olivia’s response, Rita’s grip on you tightened as the other woman stepped forward, as if she was going to attempt to cuff you then and there. You winced at the pain, a grunt coming from your throat.

“Come on darling, they need to look at you.” She softly kissed the top of your head, her voice quiet enough for only you to hear, a prominent shake it in as she directed you towards the ambulance. “Did he rape you?” You took a shaky breath, your words nearly lost against her body.

“Just…just his hand..” you shuddered, thankful you’d been so out of it by that point from blood loss and a very likely concussion that you barely acknowledged or remembered it. Rita’s grip tightened around you again, she was happy he hadn’t managed to complete his task but god only knew if you hadn’t killed him she would be walking right back into that house and doing it herself.

She guided you to the paramedics as Liv came jogging back out with a tshirt from the house, letting you rid yourself of the blood soaked one. It relieved Rita to see that so much of the blood wasn’t yours, but her eyes dragged over the other small marks littering your body. There was no way in hell she was leaving your side for a very long time.

An I.V was promptly hooked up to give you some pain killers and fluids while the paramedic started asking you a few questions, you were half in an out at this point, exhaustion wearing on you more than you could’ve imagined. You knew you mentioned your leg, that it needed to be stitched, and you were aware of Rita’s hand curled in yours, the other softly brushing hair from your face. You knew you were finally safe, that your love was back by your side, your subconscious finally encouraging you to rest for a bit.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Charlotte’s Choice

A Royal Romance AU Fanfic

31 The Long Goodbye

Charlotte is taken to the Hospital to her father’s bedside and has an announcement for the Press.

This is the last chapter of Charlotte’s Choice, as the Princess becomes Queen - or does she? Look out for the sequel - Uneasy Lies the Head 

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Warning - major character death, chapter deals with the loss of a parent

31 The Long Goodbye

The helicopter disappeared into the distance, and Charlotte clung to Drake, who kissed her again and again with sheer relief. She felt small in his arms, so vulnerable though he had just seen her demonstrate how strong she was when she escaped from Anton’s clutches.

‘It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe’ he kept repeating until he realised that all was quiet back at the lodge. He remembered Brad, and turned to look, seeing nothing. The Royal Guard had arrived with medics and were making their way toward them.

‘Drake, you’re bleeding’ gasped Charlotte, the first thing she had said since she had escaped from Anton. He registered a dull ache in his arm and looked at the tear in his jacket.

‘It’s nothing, I was just winged’ he said. He struggled to his feet and pulled the Princess with him. Medics rushed forward to examine her, but he brushed them away from attending to his wound.

‘Brad’ he said ‘I have to see what happened to Brad’

‘Don’t leave me, Drake’ Charlotte pleaded. He kissed her and squeezed her arm.

‘It’s fine, you’re safe now. I just need to check – I won’t go out of sight, I promise, but I don’t know what I’ll find.’ Dread pooled in his guts as the Lodge remained still save for the Guards swarming over the scene. He quickly made his way over, soon seeing a body lying prone and still, but it was the guard who had been shooting at them when they arrived, one of Anton’s men. He went a little further, heart sinking, and saw Brad lying in a pool of blood.

‘Over here!’ he shouted ‘Man down – hurry!’ He stooped next to him, afraid to move him. His eyelids flickered, and Drake registered that the blood came from on his left side just under his ribs – possibly his spleen, he thought. ‘Brad, speak to me’ he said ‘Stay with me, the medics are coming’ Brad focussed on him with some difficulty.

‘The – the Princess…’ he asked weakly, and Drake nodded

‘She’s fine Brad, Anton got away but she’s fine. What happened?’ Brad tried to sit up but he pushed him back down as the medics got to them ‘Stay still, Brad’ he commanded. Brad put his hand to his side and looked at it, raising his head off the ground

‘I – I’m bleeding’ he said. ‘He – I tried to get his gun, it went off when we – I guess he got me, then I hit him, his head – it bounced off the door frame and he went down.’

‘Out of the way, Sir’ Drake was pushed aside by the arriving medics, who got to work swiftly. He heard the thump of rotor blades and desperately looked for Charlotte before realising it was the air ambulance arriving, not Anton returning.

‘Hang on Brad’ he said loudly ‘you’re in good hands. Hang on for Olivia, she’ll be waiting’ He went back to Charlotte, a blanket around her shoulders now. Lewis, Bastien’s second in command appeared. ‘Lewis – how’s Bastien?’ he asked urgently

‘He’s in surgery, got a shot to the liver, just grazed it’ he answered. He looked at Charlotte and drew Drake aside.

‘The King’s in a serious condition. He was hit in the chest, and the doctors found a complication – he’s got advanced lung cancer. We need to get the Princess to see him as soon as possible, she may already be Queen.’ Drake looked across at Charlotte in shock, realising she must already have known about his illness. ‘If you could accompany her, we’ve got a car waiting. You can make a report later. I take it that was Anton making his getaway in the helicopter’ Drake nodded

‘Got it in one. He was going to take Ch – the Princess with him, but she escaped. I’d have shot him, but my gun jammed.’

‘Good man. Now get her to the hospital, explain things to her – the sooner the better’ Drake turned back to Charlotte

‘Princess, we need to go. There’s a car waiting’ He took her arm gently and guided her to the door, looking over to where Brad as being transferred onto a stretcher ready to take off in the air ambulance.

It was another hour before the car drew up at the hospital, and Charlotte was met by the King’s personal doctor. Drake had not asked her about Constantine’s illness, knowing that it was her decision whether to share it with him or not.

‘Your Highness’ the Doctor bowed, and she grabbed Drake’s hand and held it tightly.

‘Doctor, how is he?’

‘Gravely ill, your Highness, you need to see him straight away’ He started off, and Charlotte drew Drake with him. Before anyone could remark on it, she spoke

‘I wish Duke Walker to come with me. He’s to be kept up to date with my father’s condition too, is that clear?’ The doctor nodded,

‘Of course your Highness, I’ll make sure he is’

‘Is there any news of Mr Lykel?’ she asked

‘I’m told he’s out of surgery and out of danger’ came the answer.

‘How about Earl De Montfort?’

‘He’s not been here long your Majesty, all I know is he’s in surgery’ They passed through a waiting room, and Olivia stood up and flew to them

‘Lottie – Drake – what happened to Brad?’ her face was white, her eyes red, and Charlotte’s heart went out to her. She stopped and let go of Drake.

‘Drake, Olivia needs you more than I do. Tell her what happened, and get to me when you can. I’ll understand if you need to check on him or Bastien’ Drake tried to protest, but Charlotte was gone in a trice and Olivia’s expression told him his place was with her for now.

Charlotte was lead into her father’s room, to see him lying in the bed hooked up to all sorts of machines. He looked pale and haggard, and she couldn’t help let out a cry of distress. Hana got up from his bedside and came to meet her.

‘Charlotte, thank goodness you’re here. He’s been in and out of consciousness and every time he wakes, he asks for you.’ She went straight to the bedside and held his hand.

‘Father, I’m here’ she said quietly, her voice breaking. ‘Please Father, speak to me’ He stirred a little and he squeezed her hand feebly. His eyes fluttered open

‘My darling daughter’ he said weakly ‘You’re safe. Cordonia is…’ his voice gave out but his lips formed the word ‘safe’

‘Yes Father. Save your strength, the doctors will help you’ again he smiled weakly.

‘I fear – I don’t have long left. Tell me Charlotte, did you – did you follow your heart? Who – who?…’

‘Father, I choose Drake – Jackson’s son, Drake Walker. He’s everything to me. Please, tell me you approve’ His breath was short and laboured, his eyes closing again. A look of pain passed over his face, and he coughed. It was a while before he could get his breath back and Charlotte waited in agony. He smiled again

‘You – you chose wisely. He will be - a good companion for you. He’s – loyal and trustworthy – and the people – the people will love him. Not like the old tyrant’ He didn’t have the breath to complete his sentences and had to pause over and over again.

‘Father – you’re not – I wouldn’t – don’t leave me’ she pleaded. He closed his eyes and her heart leapt into her mouth, but after a while he opened them again.

‘It was Severus – wasn’t it?’ he asked ‘He was - behind it all’ Charlotte nodded.

‘Yes Father, he tried to take me away, but Drake and Brad followed him, and I got away from him. He escaped’ Constantine nodded. He looked at her, focusing on her face and frowning

‘Your cheek – you’re hurt’ he said, and her hand flew up to where Anton had struck her. A look of fury passed over his features. ‘Tell Bastien – tell him to – to find him, make him pay. He touched – he hurt - my darling daughter’  His hands fluttered, making strange gestures that reminded Charlotte of something she couldn’t quite recall. He closed his eyes again ‘Tell him – no mercy – make him pay’ At this point there was a gentle knock on the door, and Hana went to see who it was. She stood aside as Drake entered and went straight to Charlotte’s side.

‘Father’ she said ‘Drake’s here.’ His eyes opened again and he focused with difficulty.

‘Walker’ he said faintly ‘Look after her. Make Severus pay – tell Bastien – tell him…the succession...’ His hands fluttered again and Drake nodded vehemently as he weakened visibly

‘Your Majesty, I promise – I will do everything I can for Charlotte. I love her and I will cherish her as long as I live, and serve the people of Cordonia as best I can’ Constantine nodded, his eyes closed, and his breath settled into a steady wheeze. The machines around him showed he was still fighting, still alive, but apart from the movement of his chest, there was no other sign of life. Charlotte bent over the bedside, resting her forehead on her father’s hand, weeping softly. Hana looked at Drake and signalled for him to follow her. They stepped out into the corridor, Hana taking his elbow and looking up and down to make sure that they were alone save for the guard that stood impassively, an earpiece feeding him updates and instructions.

‘I’ve been with Constantine since he got here. He wanted to talk to Charlotte, and I don’t think he has much strength left. Charlotte will be Queen soon – can you support her? Bastien will be out of action for a few days, at least physically.’ Drake looked at her questioningly, and she sighed ‘I’m more than just sweet little Hana looking for a husband’ she explained ‘I work for the security forces – undercover. Constantine drafted me in to help Charlotte’ his eyes widened in surprise. ‘She’ll tell you all about it, I’m not lying. You and I will have to work together to keep things under control’ Drake nodded, surprised but willing to accept her word until he could check with Charlotte.

‘Okay, I need to talk to Bastien too. We need to lock down the borders, keep an eye out for Anton’

‘His helicopter didn’t leave Cordonian airspace, so he could still be in the country. Charlotte needs to make a Press statement as soon as possible – can you get her to do that? I’ll stay with Constantine, she can be called back to him at a moment’s notice if we hold it here’

‘What will she say?’ Drake asked

‘Don’t worry, Bastien and I have drafted it out. She’s the only one with enough authority to talk to the Press.’

‘How about – the announcement about the Consort?’ he asked. Hana’s face dropped.

‘I – I’m sorry, we can’t do that just now. We have to consolidate her position, and that will have to wait.’ She put her hand on his arm ‘Not for long. I know who…’ she smiled ‘Soon, I promise.’ Drake swallowed.

‘Surely it would be better to tell the people that she’s not alone’ he said.

‘Really, Bastien thought it better to wait a little while – while Constantine is still alive at least. Then the announcement will lift the mood of the people.’ Drake bowed his head.

‘Very well. I’ll go and talk to Charlotte’

Charlotte stood in front of the Press, her face pale and drawn, but her expression resolute

‘Citizens of Cordonia, I am sure you have all heard of the tragic events at the Coronation today. It is my sad duty to tell you that my father,  King Constantine, was seriously injured in an assassination attempt, and I narrowly missed injury myself. At present, the King is fighting for his life, and  as his legal heir I hereby take control of the Monarchy and the country until he recovers – or does not’ Her voice broke a little, but she went on ‘But for the quick action of the head of the King’s Guard, Bastien Lykel, I might also be fighting for my life, or worse.’ She paused again, looking at her notes as the cameras clicked and flashed. She felt Drake’s token warm against her chest and took comfort from it.

‘I am saddened to tell you that the person behind this treasonable offence was none other than one of our own noble lords and a suitor for my hand in marriage, Anton Severus. I am certain that he was responsible, as he made an attempt to kidnap me and take me out of the country, to force me to hand over power to him. Thanks to the actions of our own Duke Drake Walker, and Sir Bradley De Montfort of England and the Royal Guard, that attempt was thwarted. I urge any citizen who knows of his whereabouts to contact the Security services and hand him over to face justice.’ She looked round at the waiting reporters.

‘You will understand that I will not be taking questions at this time, but if you submit any you do have to my press secretary, they will be answered in due time. I will also defer my announcement of the identity of the suitor I have chosen as my Consort for the present’ At this, the cameras clicked and the lights flashed, and voices were raised in question. ‘Now is not the time for such matters, but rest assured I will come back to it as soon as possible. Thankyou for your patience – I must now return to the King’s side. Please know that if his condition changes, you will all be informed immediately.’ She stepped down from the dais and left the room.

At last, someone came to the waiting room where Olivia sat alone. Hana was with Charlotte, and Drake was with Bastien. She played with a lock of her red hair, twisting it nervously around her finger, and stood up when the doctor came in.

‘Ms Nevrakis, as the Earl’s sponsor, in the absence of next of kin…’ Olivia gasped, her knees going weak. She grabbed onto the back of the chair bolted to the floor. She feared the worst after Brad had been in surgery for several hours. The doctor looked at her kindly, at her pale face. ‘It’s alright Lady Olivia, he’s out of danger. He had lost a lot of blood and he had a little internal damage, but he’s out of surgery and recovering. It will be some time before he regains consciousness, but you can go and see him if you wish.’ She breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Yes please, take me to him’ she said gratefully.

Drake sat at Bastien’s bedside going over their options. The older man would have to spend some time recovering from his injuries, but his mind was sharp and he still had control of his men.

‘We have to question Lord Delacoeur about his recommendation for the security firm that went rogue. I wasn’t happy at the time they were appointed, as I hadn’t had time to vet them personally, but they came with excellent references. I believe Severus was behind their appointment, and Neville will face prosecution if he is found to have aided and abetted him.’

‘That’s an interview I’d love to be involved in’ Drake said grimly ‘What do we know about the helicopter Anton left in?’

‘Hired from a firm in Switzerland, leased out for three days, found abandoned near the border with Greece, no sign of him. He could have gone over the border, or doubled back and stayed in the country, we don’t know’

‘He said he had allies, supporters – that we couldn’t trust anybody. I wonder how much of that was bluff’

‘We have to take it seriously, vet everyone we can. We can rule out that security company, see what links we can find there. I have confidence in the Royal Guard, they’d all give their lives for the Crown’

‘But who wears the crown? How many support Anton’s claim?’ Drake asked. Bastien made a dismissive gesture.

‘I put that badly – they would all give their lives for the King and for Charlotte, no question about that, but rest assured I will double check that’

‘We have to draw up a safe list for Charlotte – we can make a start with the Guard – Olivia and Brad, Hana and Maxwell. How about the staff at the Palace – any new recruits?’ asked Drake.

‘All regularly vetted as you know, but I will organise a fresh round of assessments.’

‘We need to find out if any of the nobles support Anton, and that might be tricky’

Yes, difficult’ replied Bastien ‘I have an operative or two that can work on that, but it will take time.’

Charlotte sat by her father’s bedside. He had not regained consciousness since he had slipped away after speaking to Drake. His breath grew weaker and the machines showed no improvement in his condition. Hana begged her to go and get some sleep, but she refused, dozing with her head on the bed beside her father’s hand, the beeping of the machines lulling her further off to sleep. Hana crept out herself to go and get some rest and report to Bastien.

Charlotte felt her father’s hand twitch and sat upright to find herself alone in the room. Her father was looking at her fondly, his face radiant with happiness.

‘Charlotte’ he said ‘your mother’s here to fetch me’

‘Father, you’re delirious’ she gasped ‘There’s no-one here but me’

‘I’m so tired’ he said, taking a shaky breath ‘She says to tell you she loves you, and she knows you’ll be happy with Drake. He will cherish you like I cherished her.’ She realised that there was no sign of his shortness of breath, and he no longer looked haggard. All was still and quiet, the sound of the machines fading to the background, slowing…

‘Father…’ Charlotte started, but he took her hand and kissed it.

‘It’s time for me to go, my darling girl. I love you, though it was hard to show you. Take care of our beautiful country. Goodbye Charlotte.’

Charlotte awoke suddenly to hear the monitors flatline, and suddenly the room was filled with staff bustling around the bed. Nurses swiftly approached and the Doctor swooped in to examine the King. She looked on in horror at the upset and drama as her father’s form lay still, only the barest of movement as his chest rose and fell a little.

‘STOP’ she commanded, and the room became still, all turning to look at her. ‘Let him go in peace’ she said simply ‘Turn off these machines, and leave us alone’

‘But Princess…’ the doctor protested

‘Please’ she said quietly ‘Give him the dignity he always had in life’ The doctor nodded and stepped back, motioning the others to leave, swiftly unhooking and switching off the machines himself.

The Princess sat by the bedside, knowing the conversation she had just had with Constantine was a dream.

‘I’m here Father, you can let go now. I’ll look after the country’ she said quietly. She heard her father’s breath slowing and rattling. She held his hand and waited, watching his chest moving, just the tiniest bit, until it stopped completely and she heard his last breath, long and slow, leave his body. She felt his hand slowly grow cold, and her tears fell

‘Goodbye Father. I love you’ whispered Queen Charlotte.

[miss-marvel95]

Have Mercy (Ch. 2)

A/N: I’m back again and here’s another installment of this thing I wrote. This is from Mercy’s POV. Thank you to the people that give me feedback and kinda sorta like my writing :P You are appreciated!!! I came up with a title that I thought was appropriate, and I’d do fancy picture mood board things but I’m not that talented. Enjoy, and please tell me what you think :) 

My name is Mercy Lewis, and I have a problem. 

I am the preacher’s daughter, required to attend every event our small town has. If it’s a backyard barbecue, I am there, forced into some sort of summer dress that I didn’t ask for. If there is a house party at the Calico’s down the road, I am there with a gift from my mother. 

I go to church every Sunday like I’m told, and I listen and nod and say a quiet ‘Amen’ as my father preaches an edited sermon that he preached sometime last year. 

I am quiet and unobtrusive, staying away from the louder bonfires and going to talk with the ‘adults’ instead. I don’t drink a drop of alcohol at social gatherings, opting for water instead. 

But none of that is actually ME.  

I’m not exactly sure when I changed. I was fine with the events, and the gift giving, and the different summer dresses. I liked church. I was okay with being quiet and I hated alcohol.

Then my problem showed up in the form of HER. Okay. That’s not meant to be as harsh as it seems, but right now, I’m terrified out of my mind. Allie Rider is my problem. 

Have you ever grown up in such a sheltered house that you immediately know that you’re not like them? Like. . . your parents teach you that a man and a wife are the only way that romantic love and marriage can exist. 

So I knew that I was different almost immediately. 

I. Liked. Girls. 

I liked them in the romantic sense. I thought there was something wrong with me because my father was always saying things like “When you get a boyfriend-” or  “The Bible commands you to love men only, alright? I know your cousin Elsie has been talking and telling you otherwise but don’t listen to that.” 

And then I would get things like “Don’t look at that girl too long. That’s disgusting” or “You filthy girl. You think you love women? THIS WILL TEACH YOU OTHERWISE!!” From my mother. My mother was the one that liked to yell at me and hit me if I looked at other girls for too long.

She thought that beating me would literally beat the ‘sin’ out of me. That’s how she put it. I was 10 years old when she started beating me. Occasionally, she still does. How did my parents find out? I was holding hands with another girl when I was 10 years old. They banned me from ever seeing her again.

That was when I was allowed to wear pants, and flannels, and coveralls. Now I was stuck with summer dresses and makeup and high heels. They forced me to join the cheer leading team at high school, in hopes that cheering for boys would make me want them more. 

I mean for sure, I’ve liked some boys. I’ve found them attractive, dated them, but none of it ever lasted. That’s because of Allie. 

She moved to town when I was 10 years old, after I was forced to wear dresses like the ‘good girl’ they wanted me to be. And I stayed away from girls for a while, but Allie reached me. 

I remember how we officially met. She’d waltzed into the town hall, thrown mud straight at my dress, and said “Only good girls wear dresses like that.” Then she’d ran out of there and I’d ignored my parents calls because I’d been so angry with her that nothing else mattered. 

I’d found her in a mud puddle near the side of the building, and I had scooped up a huge pile of mud, dumping it over her head. “I’m not just a good girl!” I’d yelled, and after that, we fought in the mud before becoming the best of friends. 

I don’t know how she did it, but she managed to charm my parents into liking her enough that I was finally allowed to have a close friend of the same gender. 

And of course my gay ass fell for her. And she made me feel like I could actually be myself around her. I started to bring whiskey to events, added some to my water. Just the way I liked it. I’d had it that way in secret in my room, but never dared to do it at events.

I started to dance again, when she was around. I asked her to come to other towns with me so we could go to parties together. I’d kept this a secret from everyone. I’d stopped letting people in, because I was terrified that they would tell my parents and I’d be condemned to hell. 

She made me want to start letting people in again. 

And I mean she’s literally a reminder of how gay I am. When she comes to school in her coverall shorts and T-shirt, sweaty and tan and freckled, her blonde hair slipping from it’s messy bun, I freeze up. I can’t think about anything but wanting to kiss the sweat from her skin and how much I want to pull her into another room so I can watch her blue eyes go wide and-- and that’s crazy right? That’s insane! 

This is insane. I am the preacher’s daughter. I am the inherently good girl. I wear summer dresses and stay sober and I date the football captain because I’m straight and good and not anything else but that.

But I’m not. I’m my own person and I am a mixture of trying and making mistakes and I wear shorts and tank tops under my dresses and I drink whiskey because I like the burn and I am a bisexual mess and I am so much more than this. 

I’m Mercy Lewis, and I have a problem.

I’m in love with Allie Rider. 

Tag list: @semitallmuffin @crimeshowtrash @spencerthepipecleaner @reids-curls @chrysanthemumsies @veroinnumera @mentallydatingspencerreid @unitchiefwives @captainreid @badasprentiss @ssa-aaronhotchner @spencer-puppies-and-stuff @fl0werb0nes18 @bitchinprentiss @dontshootmespence

[uneminuteparseconde]

Des concerts à Paris et alentour

en gras : les derniers ajouts :-: in bold: the last news

Octobre 15. Arno Bruil + Les pédales s'amusent + MMY – Espace B 15. Kate Carr + Valérie Vivancos – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 15. Metronomy – Olympia ||COMPLET|| 16. Mashrou’Leila (Parade for Fiac) – Palais de la découverte (gratuit) 16. Metronomy – Olympia 16. Cycle péruvien + Laurene Ipsum + Robin Kobrynski (Serendip Lab fest.) – Cirque électrique 17. Automat : musique pour "Archeologia" d'Emmanuelle Huynh – Centre Pompidou (accès avec le billet d’entrée au musée) 17. Vindicatrix + Descendeur + Lacustre + Gakona (Serendip Lab fest.) – Cirque électrique 17. City Dragon + Sunk Heaven – Le Zorba 17. Puppetmastaz – Trabendo 17. Phill Niblock + Tim Shaw + Félicie Bazelaire – Garage Mu 17. MoE + Raw Dog + Taschen Menschen – Picolo (Saint-Ouen) 18. Joachim Montessuis + Astéréotypie + Julien Bancilhon & Franq de Quengo + Franck Ancel – Galerie Métanoïa (gratuit) 18. The Dream Syndicate + Marietta – Petit Bain 18. Total Victory + Leroy se meurt + Entracte Twist – Espace B 18. A_r_c_c + À travers + Simple Appareil + Blenno Die Wurstbrücke – église Saint-Merri 18. Arktau Eos + Zoät-Aon + Aeoga – Les Voûtes 18. Marie Guilleray + Justin Bennett + Jaap Vink + Gabriel Paiuk + Raviv Ganchrow + Kees Tazelaar + Gottfried Michael Koenig + Johan Van Kreij + Richard Barrett + Ji Youn Kang + Bjarni Gunnarsson (Akousma) – MPAA 18. Maud Geffray & Lavinia Meijer : “Still Life” + Molecule + DNGLS : “360° live” (MaMA fest.) – La Cigale 18. Le Prince Harry – L’International 18. Cloning + Leandro Barzabal + Léo Dupleix + Paul Grémare – Le Balto (Montreuil) 18. Rendez-Vous + Marble Arch – Le Plan (Ris-Orangis) 18. Sydney Valette + Le Prince Harry + Maenad Veyl – Protocol (Pantin) ||ANNULÉ|| 18. Stanislav Tolkachev + Unhuman & AN-I + Oake + Nastia Reigel – Protocol (Pantin) ||ANNULÉ|| 19. Shrouded and the Dinner + King Baxter + Vitaphone + À PLUSIEURS sous Raphaël Julliard + Enzo et Jacques – Folie N4|Parc de la Villette (gratuit) 19. Ramuntcho Matta + Martin Bakero + Pedro Serra + Vincent L'Hostis – Galerie Métanoïa (gratuit) 19. Josin – Lafayette Anticipations 19. Françoise Barrière + Renaud Bajeux + Pali Meursault + Julia Hanadi Al Abed + Yan Maresz (Akousma) – MPAA 19. G4Z + Peru + Jean Turner + Monster X + Steven Marcato + Aly-x (Serendip Lab fest.) – Le Sultan 19. Jeanne Added + Regina Demina + Vale Poher + Theodora + Flore + Gonthier + Vikken (dj) + Rag (dj)... – La Station 19. Lena Willikens + Jasss + A Strange Wedding + Jacques Satre + Les Fils de Jacob – Dehors brut 19. Juan Atkins + Vril + Ceephax Acid crew + Antigone + Onur özer + Fasme (Le Champ des machines) – Le Ferme du Buisson (Noisiel) 19. Sisters of Mercy – Bataclan ||COMPLET|| 19. Lingua Ignota + Shantidas – Espace B ||COMPLET|| 19. Pixies + Blood Red Shoes – Olympia ||COMPLET|| 19. Adam X + David Caretta b2b The Hacker + 14Anger + Phase Fatale + Terence Fixmer + Raffaele Atanasio + Darzack + De-Dust2 + Dersee – tba ||COMPLET||  20. Kim Gordon & Dimitri Chamblas – American Center Paris (gratuit sur résa)  ||COMPLET|| 21. Pawns + Youth Avoiders + Barren? – Espace B 21. Les morts vont bien + Rivière de corps + René Couteau + Razzle Dazzle (dj) (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 21. Gâtechien + Wallack + Baron Crâne – ESS'pace 22. Carambolage + Deedee & Tha Abracadabras + Roger de Lille & The Gin Tonics + The Hare (dj) (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 22. Thurston Moore – Trabendo 22. David J – Petit Bain 23. Ecstatic Vision + Les Tigres du futur + Os Noctambulos – ESS'pace 23. Sly & The Family Drone + Stef Ketteringham + Decimus + Dust Breeders – Espace B 23. Plomb + Je t'aime + Electric Press Kit + dj Oxblood (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 23. Four Tet – Le 104 ||COMPLET|| 24. Last Night + Negative Space + Pedigree + Buzz Kull + dj Dave Rockin (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 24. Çub + Ayya + Radiant – Le Cirque électrique 24. The Necks – La Marbrerie (Montreuil) 25. A Certain Ratio – Petit Bain 25. Poutre + OK fdp + Bruant zizi – ESS'pace 25. Jozef Van Wissem – Crypte Notre-Dame de la Croix (sur résa : jvwparis[@]gmail.com) 25. Fiesta en el Vacio + Axell Larsen + Franz France + Sinead O'Connick jr + Paroi (Serendip Lab fest.) – Jazz y Jazz 25. Catastrophe + Sean O'Hagan + Form – La Maroquinerie 25. Curses + Sophie Morello + Tonn3rr3 + E for Ears & Grāv Jōnz + Trusspe – La Station 25. Bestial Mouth + Veil of Light – Protocol (Pantin) 25. DaGeist + Blind Delon + Outer Limit Lotus + Nick klein + UVB 76 + Dress Rehearsal (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 25. dj Varsovie + Paulie Jan + Blndr b2b Panzer + Mind Matter + End of Mortal Life – Glazart 25. Orphx + O/H + December + Unhuman + Limbus Puerorum – Protocol (Pantin) 26. The Monochrome Set + The Last Detail – Petit Bain 26. Nina Harker + Bianca Warlord – Le Zorba 26. Truckks + Terrier + Achab + Olive Pogo + Car Crash Control (dj) (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 26. The Wheal + Princesse Napälm + L'Orchidée Cosmique + Klymt (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 26. Rouge Mary + Regina Demina + AZF + Léonie Pernet (dj) + Juke + Morello – Point FMR 26. Mørbeck + Philipp Strobel + IV Horsemen – La Machine 26. Alignment + Hadone + UVB + Parfait + Repro – tba 26. Loto Retina + Jakub Lemiszewski + Somaticae + Le Compas dans l'oeil + Ahta Bat + Letal Ataraxia (Serendip Lab fest.) – Le Sultan 27. Stephen Mallinder + Laisse Moi + Hexenschuss (Obernoir fest.) – L'International 28. Kate Tempest – Le Trianon 29. Agent Side Grinder + DaGeist – La Boule noire 29. Pauwels + Mr Marcaille + BOB Cooper – L'ESS'pace 30. The White Screen + Techno Thriller + Novichok – Supersonic (gratuit) 30. Oiseaux-Tempête + Jessica Moss – La Maroquinerie 30. Jenny Hval – Centre Pompidou 30. Battles – Trabendo 30. Dame Area + Slaylor Moon + Noir de Maars– Espace B 31. Skepta + Mura Masa + Hamza + Zola + Ateyaba + Celeste + Duendita + Ezra Collective + Flohio + Kojey Radical + Master Peace + Slowthai + The Comet is Coming + Yussef Dayes + Charlotte Dos Santos + Kojaque (Pitchfork fest.) – La Grand Halle de La Villette 31. Arrington de Dionyso – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 31. Broken English Club + Cabaret nocturne + IV Horsemen + Gil. Barte – Petit Bain

Novembre 01. Chromatics + Belle & Sebastian + Primal Scream + John Talabot + Weyes Blood + Barrie + Briston Maroney + Chai + Desire + Helado Negro + Jackie Mendoza + Nilüfer Yanya + Orville Peck + Sheer Mag + Squir + Loving + Nelson Beer + Sons of Raphael (Pitchfork fest.) – La Grand Halle de La Villette 01. Park Hie Jin + HAAI + Afrodeutsche + Nite Fleit (Pitchfork fest. after party) – Trabendo 01. Imperial Black Unit + Mekano + CH-01 + Krase b2b Alphonse Fassaert – Petit Bain 01. Under Black Helmet b2b Hadone + Inhalt der Nacht b2b Echoes of October + Danilo Incorvala + Makornik + Félicie – Les Docks de Paris (La Plaine-Saint-Denis) 02. The 1975 + Charli XCX + 2manysdj (dj) + Aurora + Agar Agar + SebastiAn + Aeris Roves vs Jamila Woods + Jessica Pratt + Kedr Livanskiy + Korantemaa + BEA1991 + Caroline Polachek + Ela Minus + KhadyaK + Mk.gee + Oklou + Tobi Lou (Pitchfork fest.) – La Grand Halle de La Villette 03. Whispering Sons – Point FMR 03. Ensemble économique + CIA débutante – Le Chinois (Montreuil) 05. Ceremony – Espace B 05. Body of Light – Supersonic (gratuit) 06. The Murder Capital – Nouveau Casino 06. Scattered Purgatory + Qian Geng + UVB76 + ruò tán – Le Cirque électrique 06. Minus Pilot + GNG + Thomas Stone + Kevin Buckland – Café de Paris 06. Mont Analogue + Les Halles + Bravo Tounky – Garage Mu 06. Glacial – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 07. Camilla Sparksss + Hyperculte [+ Xiu Xiu : ANNULÉ] – Petit Bain 07. Kælan Mikla – La Boule noire 07. Randomer + Parallx + Parfait – Glazart 08. Bedroom Community – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 08. Part Chimp + Gnod + Hey Colossus – Petit Bain 08. Sourdurent + Raymonde – Pan Piper 08. Jad Wio + Love in Prague – Gibus 08. Crystal Geometry + Monya + Size Pier – La Station 08. Boy Harscher – Trabendo ||COMPLET|| 09. Molchat Doma + War Scenes – La Station 09. Fleuves Noirs + Thank + Drive with a dead girl + Panico Panico – Le Rigoletto 09. Kwartz + ABSL + Toscan Haas – Glazart 10. Amiina : cinéconcert sur "Fantomas" de Louis Feuillade – Le Studio|Philharmonie 10. Ôlafur Arnald + Hugar – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 10. Fontaine D.C. – Bataclan 12. Deerhunter + Moon Diagrams – Trabendo 12. Up-Tight + Officine – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 13. Mick Harvey & JP Silo, Steve Shelley, Glenn Lewis – Les Trois Baudets 14. Dinah Bird & Jean-Philippe Renoult (Inaudible Matters) – La Gaîté lyrique 14. Girl Band + Silverbacks – La Maroquinerie 14. Stella Chiweshe + Is a Fish – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 15. Von Pariahs + Nursery – Point FMR 15. Chemical Brothers – Seine musicale (Boulogne-Billancourt) 15. Kap Bambino – La Gaîté lyrique ||ANNULÉ|| 17. Nitzer Ebb + Liebknecht – La Machine 17. Tropical Fuck Storm – Badaboum 18. Omni + The Gotobeds + Pleasure Principle – La Boule noire 18. Surf Curse + edgar déception + Fiasco – Supersonic (gratuit) 19. Earth + Helen Money – Petit Bain 20. Lucy Railton + Sean Baxter + Jessica Ekomane – Instants chavirés (Montreuil) 21. Cate Le Bon + Grimm Grimm – Petit Bain 21. Haco + Emiko Ota avec KiriSute Gomen – Studio Campus 21. Vincent Ségal, Clément Saunier, Odile Auboin, Jossalyn Jessen et Gilbert Nouno jouent des pièces de Peter Eötvös, Yan Maresz, Gilbert Nouno et Fausto Romitelli  (fest. Innovasounds) – Le 104 22. eRikm + Franck Vigroux & Antoine Schmitt : “Chronostasis” (fest. Innovasounds) – Le 104 22. Rubin Steiner + Dombrance + Ambeyance + Meteo Mirage – La Maroquinerie 22. Nursery + Casse Gueule + Tout de suite – Cirque électrique 22. Kazu Makino (Blonde Redhead) – Les Étoiles 23. Trio Sacher + Ensemble intercontemporain (fest. Innovasounds) – Le 104 23. Billy Childish + Le Villejuif Undergroud + Petausaure (fest. BBmix) – Carré Bellefuille (Boulogne-Billancourt) 23. Franck Vigroux & Kurt d’Haeseleer : “The Island (part. 1)” + Cinna Peyghamy (fest. Bruits blancs) – La Muse en circuit (Alfortville) 23. 999999999 + Jawbreakrs + Nico Moreno + Perc + Sentimental Rave + Softcoresoft + Trym + Parfait + UR trax – tba 24. TR/ST – Le Trianon 24. Mdou Moctar – La Boule noire 24. Midori Takada + Carla dal Forno + Felicia Atkinson (fest. BBmix) – Carré Bellefuille (Boulogne-Billancourt) 24. The Young Gods + Les Tétines noires – La Machine 26. Wardruna – Olympia 27. Poly-Math + Bruit ≤ + Maven – Supersonic (gratuit) 27. The Stranglers – Olympia 27. Silly Joy + Raskolnikov + Jupiter Jane – L’International 27. Hélène Breschand, Tarek Atoui & Cécile Mont-Reynaud : “Pandore” + Ensemble Motus joue Tony Conrad et Elsa Biston (fest. Bruits blancs) – Anis Gras (Arcueil) 28. Derek Holzer : “Vector Synthesis” + Cate Hope & Lisa McKinney : “Super Liminum” + Antoine Schmitt & Hortense Gauthier : “CliMax” (fest. Bruits blancs) – Le Cube (gratuit sur résa) 28. The Psychotic Monks – Trabendo 28. Artl + Powerdove – Petit Bain 29. Scanner – Nouveau Théâtre de Montreuil 29. Ulrich Krieger : “Raw” + Cellule d’intervention Metamkine (fest. Bruits blancs) – La Muse en circuit (Alfortville) 30. Mondkopf – Médiathèque musicale de Paris (gratuit) 30. Donato Dozzy + Max Cooper + Terry & Cyan Riley + Ensemble intercontemporain joue "Drumming" de Steve Reich + Ensemble Social Silence joue "Music for Airport" de Brian Eno + Apollo noir + Récital pour marimbas (Marathon fest) – La Gaîté lyrique 30. Ulrich Krieger + Natacha Muslera + Julien Desprez + Eryck Abecassis + Sylvaine Hélary avec Clyde Chabot, Jean Cagnard, Ismaël Jude, Nathalie Papin et Michel Simonot (fest. Bruits blancs) – Anis Gras (Arcueil)

Décembre 01. Motorama – La Maroquinerie 03. White Hills – Supersonic (gratuit) 03. Belgrado – Espace B 06. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Koyaanisqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 07. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Powaqqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 07. Kokoko! – La Gaîté lyrique 07. I Hate Models – tba 08. Phillip Glass Ensemble : cinéconcert sur "Naqoyqatsi" de Godfrey Reggio – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 11. Boris – Le Gibus 12. Mono + Jo Quail – Petit Bain 12. Kompromat (Vitalic & Rebeka Warrior) – La Cigale 13. Contrefaçon – La Gaîté lyrique 13. Regards extrêmes + Lisieux + Ascending divers – Les Voûtes 14. Ludwig Von 88 – Le Trianon 18. Amenra – Bataclan

2020

Janvier 04. Rokia Traoré + Ballaké Cissoko & Vincent Segal – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 16. Black Midi – Le Carreau du Temple 17. Edith Nylon – Petit Bain 17. Scratch Massive + Lokier + Cassie Raptor + Faast + Kiddo – Badaboum 18. Lee Ranaldo & Raül Refree – Le 104 18. Franck Vigroux : "Flesh" (Biennale Nemo) – Maison des arts et de la culture (Créteil) 29. Rendez-Vous – La Cigale 30. Editors – Salle Pleyel 31. Tindersticks – Salle Pleyel Février 02. Sunn o))) – La Gaîté lyrique 09. Explosions in the Sky – La Cigale 13. Ride – Le Trianon 16. Orchestral Manoeuvre in the Dark – La Cigale 21. Ensemble Links joue "Drumming" de Steve Reich + Cabaret contemporain : "Détroit" + Molécule – Le 104 24. Sleater Kinney – Le Trianon Mars 06. Frustration – Le Trianon 07. Ensemble intercontemporain joue Steve Reich : cinéconcert sur un film de Gerhard Richter – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 10. Arnaud Rebotini : live pour “Fix Me” d’Alban Richard – Centre des Arts (Enghien-les-Bains) 11. Nada Surf – La Cigale 13. Russian Circle + Torche – Bataclan 17. Chelsea Wolf – La Gaîté lyrique 20. Ensemble Dedalus joue "Occam Ocean" d'Éliane Radigue – Le Studio|Philharmonie 21. Front 242 + She Past Away – Élysée Montmartre 21/22. Laurie Anderson : "The Art of Falling" – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 27. Lebanon Hanover – La Gaîté lyrique 28. Ensemble Links joue "Drumming" de Steve Reich + Cabaret contemporain joue Kraftwerk – théâtre de la Cité internationale  Avril 27. Caribou – L’Olympia Mai 08. Max Richter : "Infra" + Jlin + Ian William Craig – Cité de la musique|Philharmonie 09. Max Richter : "Voices" – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 10. Max Richter : "Recomposed" & "Three Worlds" – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 19. Swans + Norman Westberg – Le Trabendo 23. Damon Albarn – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie 24. Damon Albarn – Salle Pierre Boulez|Philharmonie ||COMPLET||

[infinitehours]

Chapter 5

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you didn’t heed The Ghost Host’s warning about flash photography and too many bright lights?  

What a coincidence; so have I!

Hello and welcome to part 2 of my Ted Talk series, “Let’s Torture Karen For Fun”.  Thank you all for joining me here.

Oh.  I should mention that this is the “scary��� chapter.  As in, it probably won’t frighten you, but it is a bit creepier than the other chapters.

There’s a character based off of a face character in Epcot in this chapter.  This particular face character I’ve always thought was some kind of spirit when I was younger, hence why they’re referenced here.  

Also, you’re going to start to see signs of the references I’ve put in to both the Phantom Manor and the Phantom of the Opera (only natural since the book/musical inspired the Phantom Manor).

Additionally, I wanted to explain/reference the two mansions and why only one has the aging man portrait in the foyer.

Van Winkle was an actual delegate back around that time; I may go back and change it to a fake name later.  As well as maybe edit this chapter later.  If anyone can give me tips and pointers, that would be appreciated.

Also I apologize for the really terrible art.  I will probably go back and edit them later.

~~~~

Trigger warnings: ghosts, death concepts/discussions, murder, suicide, abuse, blood, lots of scary stuff (horror), implied sexual abuse, cursing (damn and hell), drug abuse, attempted rape (never completed; in a later chapter).

~~~

Table of Contents Link

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Ch 5: Poor Unfortunate Souls

~~~

”If you want to cross a bridge, My Sweet, You’ve got to pay the toll.”

                         -Ursula,  Disney’s The Little Mermaid

~~~~

Cautiously, she began to climb the stairs. They were going up; not down to where Michael presumably was, but she could swear that statue was going to spring to life at any moment and jump her.  And she couldn’t bear to be around when that happened.

On the next floor was another hallway, this time it was framed with doors lining either side as far as she could see.

No, literally.  She could not see the end of the hallway.  

It seemed to go on for miles and miles; if there even WAS an end to it, it was certainly well out of the visual range of any human being.  

Who the heck would even make a house like this?

There was not a soul in a sight, but there was creaking throughout.  The walls creaked, the floors creaked; Karen just hoped it was the house settling.  

She muttered disgruntled strings of sentences insulting the Ghost Host as she turned at a junction reached for what she had hoped was the light switch for that next set of hallways.  

The old fixtures of the chandeliers above her were sluggish in illuminating her surroundings.  That wasn’t too comforting when there were shadows at one side that she couldn’t quite account for, but relief came when this turned out to be merely another table with papers.  

Out of curiosity (and because it couldn’t possibly make her anymore lost than she already was), she briefly shuffled through them.  

Among the items that caught her eye was a newspaper.  It was faded in several places, but the words of one particular headline stood out.

“LION EATS MAN

On this morning, officers of the law have found what is believed to be the half eaten remains of local man, one Mr. Hugh Hudson.  Mr. Hudson had been reported missing by his cousin and overseer, Mr. Jefferson Lewis of the textile company Williams Textiles, just earlier today, when he had neglected to show for work or respond to visitations to his home.  Mr.  Hudson frequently suffered from unseemly bouts with the bottle, and it was under such influence that it was believed that he had happened across the grounds of the traveling Circus, The Museum of the Weird.

Although initially a suspect in this terrible tragedy, ------, the owner and ringmaster of the circus”

Karen squinted her eyes, but the name wasn’t faded but deliberately blacked out.  

“Although initially a suspect in this terrible tragedy, -----, the owner and ringmaster of the circus has cooperated in full with authorities and was henceforth released from suspicions.  He expressed his opinion that exceptional drunkenness was a type of evil, second only to lecherous behavior, and that such tragedies were an inevitable consequence of Mr. Hugh’s choices.

No evidence has been found that would implicate foul play.  Officers of the law have investigated and determined that the methods by which the scene happened involved Mr. Hugh hefting himself over the fencing using a nearby ladder. After which, becoming trapped when there was method of climbing on the other side.  Authorities are working with the assumption that the remains are, indeed, Mr. Hugh, in spite of the condition they are, which is to say, in rendered completely unidentifiable, as there was a bottle of his favored heavy wet near the beast’s cage.   And, furthermore, on the good logic that none others in town have been found to be missing.”

Lion.  Unidentified body.  And again, that Museum of the Weird.  

Karen looked at the date.  1879.  Was this the same event that the other letter she had found described?

Underneath the paper were more letters. She opened a few, but most of them had names she didn’t recognize.  Until she came across one addressed to ‘A Mr. James Bartholomew Gracey’.  

Gracey.  That was the surname of the other letter author.  She opened it up.

“Mr. James Bartholomew Gracey,

You had wrote previously expressing interest in our convention that took place in Wheeling; I write to you now that we shall hold a second convention on the 11th of June.  Ordinarily, only delegates are meant to attend, but as you have previously provided a great service for many of our members I do not think that your presence will incur an uproar.  

Take care, my friend.  For there have been rumors of late of those who wish to secede stirring trouble in towns.  I recognize that you have a certain attachment to your estate, and I do not contest it is very much your birthright, but I urge you to consider relocating closer to Parkersburg, where you could be among the many who share your sentiments.  At the very least, I pray you take care until this war reaches its conclusion.  

Sincerely,

P. Van Winkle”

This one didn’t have a year date or any other identifying features, but it mentioned a war.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. This was going to be a headache and a half to make sense of any of this, and likely wouldn’t even get her any closer to finding Michael.  

Gracey.  Given that she was finding so many letters with that surname, and given that Solomon’s portrait was hanging prominently in the foyer, she’d have to guess that the family lived in this mansion at some point.  

She frowned when she went back to staring at the letter.  Why was it…darker…?

Looking up, it seemed to have escaped her notice that the hallways she came from were now nearly black.  Goosebumps prickled over her arms and neck.  

Someone had turned off the lights.

And, judging from the human sized shadow that stood in the murky darkness: that ‘someone’ was still there.

“H-hello?”  She asked in a voice much smaller than she’d intended.

The only sounds she could hear was the echoes of a door slamming off somewhere in a distant part of the house.  The shadow didn’t change its position.  

“Michael?”  She said, a little too hopefully.  But he would never have pulled a prank like this; she knew that even before she was met with silence once again.  

“G-Ghost Host?”

Not a sound.  This was likely too subtle for someone as show-offy as he was.  

“Please….won’t you….won’t you say something?  I can see you, you kn-”

THE SHADOW SUDDENLY LURCHED, JERKY INHUMAN MOVEMENTS COMING CLOSER COMING TO HER

She screamed and turned and fled.  Down the hall in the opposite direction, she came across even more intersections and just blindly went down another and another, turning on the light switches as she went because she couldn’t stand to be left in the dark with whatever the heck that thing was.  

                            [Frightfully sensitive to bright lights]

She winched. There it was again, a thought floating to the surface of her mind that distinctively did NOT belong to her.   Unlike with the memory of Solomon, this thought didn’t gradually come upon her but was instead thrusted into the forefront of her mind.  And complete with an unwanted sense of anxiety to boot.    

She dared to look behind her, and despaired to find that the hallways she left were already dark again.  Getting desperate and running out of breath, she grabbed the first few things she could find, another table and an unlit candelabra, and positioned them under the light switch so that the prongs of the candelabra held the switch on.

Karen didn’t actually think this was going to do much, but as she went to the next hallway she witnessed the candelabra shake.  On its own.  Violently, at first, but as she stared, the object moved less and less frequently until it stopped.  The light switch remained on.  

She sighed in great relief, hoping to all heck that whatever it was, ghost or not, that it had given up its attempts.  The shadow certainly didn’t seem prepared to peep around the corner without the darkness there, so for all points and purposes it had worked.  

Frightfully sensitive to bright lights…Had that been some kind of hint?  Was she somehow peering into the desires of another being? Or was it a purposely sent message? Did the shadow really think she was going to turn off all the lights and allow herself to be at the mercy of a creature she knew nothing about?

She shook those thoughts away.  It didn’t matter anymore; a quick glance at the candelabra confirmed it was still there, keeping the lights safely on.   And so long as they were on, she apparently needn’t do anything about the shadow.

Another table. Another pile of assorted papers.  She’d have briefly scanned over them and just kept moving, as she didn’t want to risk the shadow getting brave, but the top ones….

…Were etchings of the two different types of houses she had seen when they first came across this place.

Just like how she’d seen before.  EXACTLY.

One was a Southern style house, with a flat roof and four large Roman-esque pillars surrounding the front door.  There was a second story veranda that wrapped around the entire house, with iron wrought bannisters that looked just as decorative as they were practical.  Though the etching was in black and white, she recalled from her previous contact that the building was mostly white and looked like it was made of paneled painted wood.

The other was in a style she’d seen around really old houses in mostly the Northeast.  A brick building, with roofs slopping at sharp angles and a decorative turret with many decorative toppers scattered on key points of the roof.  One of the most notable and visible points of interest was a glass room on the side that formed a half circle before fusing into the rest of the building.  

Underneath these was a note.

“Mr. Solomon Gracey,

Apologies, but I am afraid I have no answers for you again.  Though we have had a thorough investigation, the authorities have not been able to locate the evil persons who had accomplished the fire set to your home. Many of us have the opinion that the fire was a joint effort by many persons, who were eager to take advantage of your late father’s passing and your current absence.   And that Mr. Wyatt Williams may be involved.  As there were no fatalities, we thought it wise to let the matter drop; granting, of course, that you do not wish to press further.  

As requested, the style of the new exterior will be a marked difference from your original inheritance.  You recall your acquaintance in Pennsylvania, for whom you had favorably mentioned his newly completed estate some three years prior?  We were able to coax Mr. Asa Packer, the architect of that estate, for advice.

You will be pleased, but likely as puzzled as we were, to know that much of the core inner rooms had remained perfectly intact.  Indeed, it was because so many rooms were unscathed that injuries and deaths were prevented. The resulting consequences should be that it will not take more than a handful of years to fully complete her, as only really the outmost rooms and outside appearance need be worked on.  And, of course, we will extend the conservatory in accordance to your previous wishes.  I believe I can speak on behalf of my sister and say that the promise of this particular expansion delighted her.  

I hope I am not out of line in the choice of my next words, but know that it is out of concern for your safety that I state them.  Stay at the University.  The town has been broiled over with unrest as of late, perhaps due to the circumstances by which our new President was elected.  Coupled with the unpopularity of the Gracey family among the townspeople, returning now may only elicit additional responses against the estate before it has even reached completion.  

Besides which, your presence is not needed for the reconstruction, and I offer my assurances that myself and the rest of staff will make do with the family townhouse in the meantime.  We will take care; you needn’t express such worry as you’ve have.

Regards,  

Edgar Galloway”

She looked back down to the pictures but they were go-

                       She was standing somewhere else again.

It was….it was the foyer.  And the man standing in front of her…

Solomon Gracey.

There were two rows of people before him.  On the right, was a row of maids in the green, pinstripe dress she had seen before on both Nell and the maid from the other memory-dream.  On the left, was an apparent row of butlers.  They, too, were dressed in a deep forest green, albeit as a suit.  They had a pinstriped vest of a more grayish-purple color under their open jackets with a row of golden buttons, and a black tie around their neck.  Both sides were standing rigid as if at attention.  

As a butler took hold of Solomon Gracey’s hat and outer coat, she could hear one of the maids whisper to the other ‘You’re right.  He is quite handsome in person.  That portrait hardly does him justice!’

At the other end were a maid and butler pair; they seemed to be in charge, because the maid silenced the other two with a harsh glare.

Solomon, for his part, smirked in good humor.  “Thank you. I’ll consider that a compliment.”

And the maids, upon being found out, couldn’t help but giggle in both embarrassment and relief until the head maid interrupted them with a cough.  

Head maid and butler stepped forward to greet him.  Both had similar shades of hair, a deep raven black.  The woman’s was longer and had been tied in the back to be plaited into a single braid.   The man’s was cut very short and side swept at the front, but there was still much left on the sides that it would have just covered his ears if he hadn’t had it swept behind them.  Both, too, had cloudy grey eyes.

“Welcome home, sir.” The head maid said.

“Thank you.  It is good to be back.  Despite…” His face fell as he surveyed the room, “Well, despite everything.”

“We did do our best, sir, to organize the reconstruction and recreate many of the rooms.” The butler said.   “But there were limitations-“  

“I know, Edgar. I do thank you all for the effort and the willingness to stay despite the hardship this must have brought.”

“How was the University?”  Edgar said.

“Boring.  It was everything I had hated from the academy plus the addition of an overbearing school administrators that paraded the grounds as though it were their battlefield.  The amount of posturing would have you nauseated.  But at the very least, I’ve passed the bar and can now open a practice.”

He stopped short when he came upon his own likeness up above the fireplace.

“Oh, is this the previously mentioned portrait?”  He turned to Edgar and the head maid with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“Sir, we thought it would be wise to have your portrait displayed prominently for guests who may come to call upon us.”  The maid replied, giving even Solomon a pointed look of warning. “It would do much to send a message that, despite your youth, you are indeed the current, true master of Gracey manor.”

“Indeed, a wise choice,” Solomon agreed, still smiling.  “But couldn’t you have commissioned someone who displayed my chin a little LESS prominently?”  

The maids fell into a giggling fit again, and the butlers seemed threatened to join them, but a clap from both overseers put them back into line again.    

…..

Karen could feel the scene fade away; this time, the change was much more obvious.

The hallway returned. The pictures and letters returned.

This…this was the same house.  

                                              Plink.  Plink.

She picked up the two drawings and placed them side by side.

                                         Plink.  Plink.

The same exact house, just at two different points in time.

                                          Plink.  Plink.

Most of the same inner rooms, just a different exterior.

                                         Plink.  Plink.

Is that why she saw BOTH when they were approaching the mansion?

                                        Plink.  Plink.

Wait….What….

                                        Plink.  Plink.

….was that sound?

She looked up from the table….only to realize, in horror, that the other end of the hallway was dark.  

And the shadow was waiting there.

                                               Plink.

Shards of small glass came down from one of the above light fixtures, and the room grew a shade darker.  It was then that it dawned on her, fresh goosebumps rising, what the shadow intended to do.

                                      PlinkPlinkPlink.

Three lights tauntingly broke all in quick succession.  The shadow was halfway down.  

                              [Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire.]

Another unwanted thought.  Wrapped in fear and anxiety.

She fled again further down the hall.

                             [Catching up. Catching up.]

Another corner.  Again, again.

                                   PlinkPlinkPlink.

But this corner had a stop.

Stop around the corner. There was no place left to go.

                           [Catching up.  Catching up.]

                                  PlinkPlinkPlink.

There was no more hallway left, only rows of doors that led to a door at the end.

Can’t go back.  She’d run right into the shadow.

                                        [I SEE YOU]

Try one. Try two.  Why are all of these doors locked?

                                    PlinkPlinkPlink.

Finally.  The door at the end.  

She opens it and slips through.

                                       PlinkPlinkPlink.

She looks around for the light switch. A single bulb in the center of the room, dangling from a thread.  

She closed the door behind here and learns the hard way why this door wasn’t locked.

It was because it didn’t have a lock.  

The sounds of breaking bulbs gets closer.

She opts to put her weight against the door.  

Only just to register what’s actually IN this room.

…..

Coffins.  

There are coffins in this room.  

Why were there coffins in a storage closet?

Piled high, undecorated, unpainted. Just plain wooden coffins.

She doesn’t have time to think about it; already the door is pushing her back.  

                            Keep it closed. Keep it closed.

Digs her heels in, gaining leverage to force the door closed again.

She manages to find the perfect spot to put her feet.

It will close for sure.

Keep the pressure up.

But the lightbulb, the lightbulb. The single lightbulb.

It was already flickering.

                     Please don’t go out. Please don’t go out.

The shapes of the shadows of coffins dance in the flickering light like an old movie.

Sometimes, they seem to move.

                              Please don’t. Please don’t.

The pressure against her back again.

Her hand in her pocket.  It curls around the ring.

The ring in her pocket she’d forgotten about.

The ring, the ring….

                                               The water.

She was standing up near the water.   Someplace in town near the water. She couldn’t recognize where.

The fear.  Nauseating fear, it didn’t go away.

A woman was there.  That woman.  It was from the first memory.  The maid and the boy and the angry young man.  But she wasn’t wearing a maid’s uniform.  And she was scared.

Yes.  So scared. Please.

“Rolly!”  She cried, stumbling in the darkness.  Her blonde hair fell in curls about her neck, and her eyes were a dull grey-blue.

Why was it dark?  

That’s right, because it’s nighttime.

But we were in a closet….weren’t we?

“Rolly!  Rolly please!”

Please save me.

Someone.  Please help me.  

“Good evening.”

Both of them turned to see.  That wasn’t Rolly….that….that voice….

A man dressed in all black.  He was almost impossibly tall and thin, his face covered by a grotesque, demon-like mask.  

The mask had horns, it looked like it was screaming, and there was a crack on the right eye socket of the mask which displayed the unusually large eyeball the man had.  An eyeball that held a color electrifyingly blue; a shape and size and color that was so different from his ordinary looking left eye.  

Almost instictively, she wanted to run at the sound of his voice.  

“Who are you?   What do you want from me?? Do you-do you want to hurt me??”  

                      “Would you take comfort in hearing me say ‘no’?”

Run.

Run off into the town; after all, it was right there.  But she was held into place.

Couldn’t move.  

….

…This was the Ghost Host.    Seeing the Ghost Host having an actual, physical form.  Not merely a voice floating on the wind.  And all back when he was alive.  

“What….what do you want, then?” The woman anxiously looked at him, but also kept looking around her.  “Rolly?  Rolly are you near?  Please, Rolly!”

“He cannot hear you.”

“Why??  What have you done with him??”  She was frantic.  

“Why I’ve done nothing, Miss Slater. It is Miss Slater, correct?”

“How do you know that?!”

“I know someone who knows things. And I happen to know that your friend has traveled the next town over in search of some work.”

“He…..he wouldn’t.  Not without telling me.”

“Are you so sure, Madame?  And even if he was here, are you so certain he would be able to help you?  That he would have the funds at the moment to spare food for an extra mouth?”

Miss Slater was silent.  Karen was silent.

The nervousness was hers.  Or was it Miss Slaters?  Was SHE Miss Slater?

This was bad.

“And what would his friends think, hmm? His former captain? As I understand, he gets a generous sum of money as a sort of thanks for a good length of service from a company that just so happens to be owned by the Graceys.  And you?…Well…You were just fired from their house for meddling with one of the master’s sons, weren’t you?”

“That..! You…!”  The woman’s face went pale.  She doubled over as if in pain, her hand clutched to her heart.

Karen felt a tinge of pain in her own heart.   Stabbing. Burning.  

“Now, now.  Calm yourself.  You wouldn’t want to aggravate your condition, now would you?”

The man chuckled darkly, circling around her like a wolf with prey.   Her eyes followed nervously along.  

“I hold no judgement of you nor bear any grudge.  In fact, I’m rather well aware that, as a mere maid, you had little choice but to say ‘yes’ to the young master’s amorous affections.  How awful that must have felt; kicked out in the cold because you only did what you were told!”

“Stop!”  Miss Slater’s eyes were winced shut, the tears beginning to streak down her face.

The man.  The Ghost Host.  Waited patiently for her to catch her breath.

“Nathaniel said he loved me.”  She said, mournfully.  “And I….I convinced myself that I felt the same, if only to make it easier.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I don’t. …I don’t know anymore.  I think…I think a part of me did. In a way. In a twisted, awful sort of way, because he only ever made me feel twisted…and…”

She sat shaking on the riverbank. Sobbing quietly.  

“Twisted….twisted and awful….I hate him….I want to get away….And I”

She gulped.

“And I don’t…I-I don’t have anywhere to go….”

The man’s hands lifted, and those long, bony fingers ghosted along the woman’s frail shoulders.   Skeletal white against the bare of her arms.  

“Allow me to help you.”  Fingers caught underneath her elbows just as they reached them, and she was coaxed to stand.  

“You could come with me.  My troupe and I just so happen to be moving out tonight. A fresh start.  Fresh clothes.  A warm bed, warm food.  Does that interest you at all?”  This last part was whispered right at the shell of her ear, and she felt compelled to pull away in response.  

“And what,” She said, glaring at him. “Pray tell, is your price for such luxuries?”  

The man laughed, and his booming voice caused the woman to nervously ease herself away even further from him.

“I assure you, Miss Slater,” The man’s toothy smile could barely be seen underneath the shadow of the mask.  “I am not THAT kind of man.  I apologize if I have given the wrong impression.  It is fear that interests me, not lust.  As for my price, I’m not asking much.  What I want from you is...” The man reached out to very gently lift her chin.   “….your voice.”

Her hand went to her throat.  Her face no less filled with anxiety than before.

“Do you mean to rip it from me then, sir?”

He chuckled.  “Nothing so macabre.  I merely want you to perform with us.  Your performance needn’t be strenuous.  A song here, a song there.  Surely a fair price for what I offer in return, yes?”

“I’m not a singer, sir!  Only for my own enjoyment; I’ve never performed or had any sort of train-“

“Unnecessary, I promise.  The sort of clientele we get is often far from the obnoxious, discerning upper crust.  You need only be decent, and we shall fill the whole tent!”  

He offered his hand, and she hesitated to look at it.  

She reached up, gently, slowly. Until her hand was firmly in his grasp.

The man smiled.

“Welcome to the Museum of the Weird, Miss Emily Slater.”

Jerked from below.

Taken back into darkness.

Pitch darkness.

But there were outlines of coffins, despite the darkness.

                                                          Oh.

She was back in the closet.  

The memory was gone again.  

And the single lightbulb must have gone out.  

Karen sat there, her back against the door, and attempted to regulate her breathing. The room had dropped a whole 20 degrees, accented by an awful burnt smell that reeked through the air; her jacket, which felt particularly heavy against her shoulders, did little to ward off the chill.  In fact, it felt as though the cold went right through its threads.    

When she was sure that she could actually hold her own weight without passing out, she made the attempt to sta-

……

She tried to sta-

……

She.  Tried.  To. Stand.

Stand Up.  

….

She couldn’t stand up.

She felt the color drain from her face, the burning smell threatening to overpower her as she lifted her shaking hands up….up to her neck….

Only to find.

An….an arm.

…..

Made of stone.

The hand was on her right shoulder, the arm itself resting on her collarbone, the bend in the elbow right on her left shoulder and all of it coming from…

…No….coming through the door.

...The arm was coming through the door.  Unhindered.  As if the door wasn’t there at all.

She whimpered.  Tears lightly stinging her eyes, she stayed perfectly still.  As still as she could with all the shaking she was doing.

The statue...The statue had been chasing her this entire time?

….she tried…to go under the arm. To wiggle…

…wiggle

…wigg-

The arm suddenly pushed down on her collarbone, pinning her harder against the door.

She cried out in response, the burning smell was getting worse, and worse…and worse…

The…head…of the statue was now through the door.  Stoney eyes staring directly at her.

She whimpered again, silently wishing someone would hear her.  Would know she was there.

Her arms clung to the stone, trying to pull it off her but it was too solid and heavy.

Stoney eyes staring at her.

“P-please…..Please….”  She whispered. Was it for her savior to hear?  Or the statue?  Karen herself didn’t know who she was calling for.  The tears were running down her face and she couldn’t care to stifle them.

They remained like this, the two of them. A statue and a person.  The smell of burnt carcass enveloping her just as strongly as the arm did.  

But there was an eventual shift on the statue’s face.  The stone eyelids…flickering….Opening.  Revealing…

Actual human eyeballs.  

This only made her cry harder, because not only was it unnerving to see eyeballs set in stone, but they didn’t have any pupils.  

At least, at first, they hadn’t any pupils.  But dark pools began to phase into their center, stronger and stronger until the pupils fully appeared.

And with them came….a sort…of softer gaze. The statue looked at her with some sort of recognition.

And….And slowly….meticulously….the statue’s hold began to soften too…

The face moved away….The arm moved away….

Even the single lightbulb in the center of the room came back on.

The burnt smell disappeared.

Without the strength to hold herself in a sitting position, or even the statue to pin her there, Karen slumped to the floor.

Shaking.

In a closet full of coffins.  Curled up on the floor, shaking, with the tears still streaming down.

And she finally was able to shudder back to life A nice, long, deep breath.  

[alwayshidinggg]

Ch. 9: Forgiveness

When we reject the opportunity to forgive or ask for forgiveness, the relationship suffers.

When we choose to practice true forgiveness, the relationship is not just brought back to where it was before the offense; it actually moves further down the road to maturity.

“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us. We are offered forgiveness on no other terms. To refuse it is to refuse God’s mercy for ourselves.” C.S. Lewis

Giving and receiving forgiveness must be as daily of a thing as eating (give us our daily bread.)

Matthew 18:21-35

When you forgive someone, you also cancel a debt. But more specifically, you make a conscious choice to absorb the cost yourself. You choose not to make the offender pay for the offense. In doing so you make three promises:

You promise that you will not bring up the debt to use as leverage

You promise that you will not bring up the offense to others and slander the person who sinned against you

You promise that you will not dwell on the offense yourself

Forgiveness is Costly, But Not Forgiving is More Costly

Regardless of how big or small the offense, canceling a debt and absorbing the cost is going to hurt. It often feels good to hold onto an offense. That good feeling, contrasted with pain of forgiving, blinds us to the bill we’re running up spiritually.

A failure to forgive someone will change you: It feels so natural to make someone pay. You may not choke anyone, but you may shut someone out of your life. Bitterness gets its foot in the door and eventually, if the situation is not addressed and forgiveness is not granted, it takes over your life.

Forgiveness is an event and a process: FORGIVENESS HAS NO LIMITS. Applies to countless offenses and even the endlessly repeated offense. Forgiving someone is not just a past event, it is a continuation, and something that must constantly be practiced. The next time it happens, you’ll be tempted to pile that sin on top of old sins.

Forgiveness is not forgetting: Our minds don’t function that way, and its not biblical. Jeremiah 31:34. Some say that God says he will remember sins no more. But our omniscient God does not forget anything. The word remember is not a memory word, but a promise word, a covenant word. God is promising that when we confess our sins, I will not treat you as your sins deserve, instead i will forgive you.

Forgiveness has a vertical and horizontal dimension: “And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” (Mark 11:25). “If your brother sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him.” (Luke17:3). Mark seems to say we are to forgive no matter what, Luke says only forgive if they repent. But they’re talking about different components of forgiveness. When I consider someone’s sin as I stand before the Lord, I am called to have an attitude of forgiveness toward the person who sinned against me. I don’t have the right to harbor bitterness in my heart. In Luke, forgiveness is a horizontal transaction between me and the offender. This is often referred to as reconciliation. The vertical aspect of forgiveness is unconditional, but the horizontal aspect depends upon the offender admitting guilt and asking for forgiveness.

Forgiveness does not mean peace at all costs: Matthew 18:1-5, teaches life in the kingdom requires humility to confront someone gently about his sin. Matthew 18:10-14 teaches that life in the kingdom involves going after lost and wayward people. Real love demands pursuit.

Asking for and Granting Forgiveness

We should apologize and specifically name our sin in asking for forgiveness.And the reply should not be “it’s okay.” Why? Because its not okay for someone to sin against another person.

Praxis Notes:

What are some of the reasons we withhold forgiveness? Bitterness, anger, stubbornness, hurt, selfishness. Philippians 2:3-4

Is there ever such a thing as forgiving too quickly? No, you can never forgive too quickly, but you need to make sure that you fully understand your forgiveness before you give it out.

What does the world say about forgiveness? Love yourself. Everyone should always apologize, but the other person doesn’t necessarily have to forgive them. You should cut the toxic people out of your life.

What does the Bible say? Forgiveness is not limited to only a certain number of times. Get rid of all bitterness, anger, slander, malice, and instead have kindness and compassion.

Who in your life are you holding back forgiveness from in your life, and why?

[swipestream]

Q&A with Richard Cain

I took a dive into CH’s back catalog and came up with Richard Cain’s God Hates Me. I remember Vox featured it earlier in the year and though the accompanying text and review highlights made it sound good, I could never get past the cover but I’m glad I gave the book a chance. This really is a case of “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. 

  When it comes to supernatural fiction I don’t enjoy cheap and gruesome thrills and concentrate on the underlying theological background; think the opening of The Exorcist  at an archaeological site in Iraq over the famous “pea soup” scene. Well, Richard Cain has created an intriguing backstory with an unique story line featuring a demon seeking redemption. Unlike The Exorcist, Cain’s book is humorous, so don’t expect a depressing or overly violent read. The demons know their time before judgement is limited and they pass the time in causing as much mischief as they can. If you are going to suffer for eternity you might as well get your money’s worth. Another aspect that comes out is the ennui many demons suffer as they await their fate. Atrocities and inflicting pain can only remain interesting for so long and many demons are heavily involved in hobbies such as running historical reenactments in haunted houses and we meet some that take their LARPing as aliens so seriously they can only be described as demonic otaku. 

  For the dudes that can’t get over the cover we discuss Richard Cain’s next book in the Q&A which he promises will have a cover easier on hetro male eyes. I don’t have a release date yet but it should be soon and I’ll update this post when I get the word.

  Q&A on the next page.

Scott Cole: I have to admit I wasn’t expecting much from God Hates Me, maybe the cover threw me off (more on that later) but it was an enjoyable read and the story line is definitely unique…

  Richard Cain: Thank you. Some argue that the demon/angel thing is overdone. It’s not. Like communism, it’s simply never been done right – until now. If you’re expecting Frank Peretti – don’t. He missed the chance for humor in the dark lives of the damned. In God Hates Me, we meet Malach, a put-upon demon unjustly kicked out of heaven, leaving his unfinished rock garden behind. Now he’s stuck in the Kingdom of Darkness, dealing with Nephilim, working for Moloch and having to put up with LARPing demons in UFOs. It’s a sad, sad life for a misplaced angel. To make himself feel better, he possesses random and forces them to tell his story to anyone who will listen. Including Tinder dates.

    SC: Where did you get the idea to write about a demon seeking redemption?

  RC: I am friends with an exorcist and she hooks me up with the juicy stuff. “Touched by an Angel” ain’t the way it works. Demons are here and they want to party before they hit the flames – except for Malach, who just wants to get back into Heaven. On his own terms, of course.

    SC: The demon mentions portals between the physical and spiritual realms which are actually created by humans (e.g. blasphemy, sacrifices, sites where atrocities have taken place). Human souls can’t pass through the portal because they are tied to their physical bodies but entities from the spiritual realm are free to cross over. What does your exorcist friend report as the most likely avenues of possession?

  RC: She’s told me that demons hang out where horrible things have taken place. Lunatic asylums, old human sacrifice sites, etc. If someone has a horrible event in their life, that can be a point where a demon jumps in and makes himself at home. If you’ve ever had the hair stand up on your arms when you’re walking through the DMV, you know the feeling.

    SC: What can one do to help prevent interaction with demons?

  RC: Don’t play around with the occult. Burning witches is always a good idea. Interacting with the spiritual realm is that it is like swimming in the ocean. You are out of your element, with no protection and do not knows what lurks beneath the surface. In fact, you are at the mercy of any shark that decides to come out of the depths and take a bite out of you. There are protections, of course, but don’t play in their field. I’ve seen a guy go from a quiet drunk to a ranting madman when I mentioned the name of Jesus Christ. It was like someone grabbed the strings of a puppet and spoke through his mouth. Even if you think you can deal with them and say the right things, if you’re not allied to the Kingdom of Light, they may strip you naked and beat you senseless.

  SC: Let’s talk about the cover. I went on a trip recently and had the book loaded on my AMZN Fire device. When I went to read in the airport lounge or on the airplane I noticed a couple of funny looks when my seatmates would see the romance novel style of cover with the bare chested model on the front. Not sure if the cover is congruent with the story?

  RC: Sexual insecurity is a sign of demon possession. Since God Hates Me is rather like CS Lewis meets Douglas Adams, The Supreme Dark Lord naturally decided to give it a lurid homoerotic romance cover. This represents three standard deviations of cover design conceptuality. It’s okay, though. My next book features a scantily clad female on the cover.

    SC: Details, please, about your next book?

  RC: My upcoming novel Vessel of Venus tells the story of a hopelessly gamma IT professional who discovers a cheesy sorcery app which grants him some strange abilities. He also has a genetic secret which makes him a person of great interest to ambassadors from the long-dead planet Venus. His quest to hone his occult powers and fight global warming as a Venusian ambassador turns into a trainwreck thanks to his possessed girlfriend and his own neuroticism. It’s like Alpha Game: The Novel, except with aliens. And a demonic locust named Timmy.

    SC: Does Vessel of Venus tie into the God Hates Me story line?

  RC: Somewhat. Both stories are in the same universe but the second story stands alone.

  SC: I’m looking forward to it.

  RC: It’s 666 times better than the first one. And the first one was damned good.

  S

C: Why it is better?

  RC: God Hates Me was my debut novel. Since writing it two years ago, I’ve been honing my pen on other writing projects and deliberately sharpening my writing skills by studying pulp authors as well as writing theory. I’ve easily written 500,000 words in between the time I wrote the first book and finished the second book. Readers will notice the difference. If you liked the first one, you’ll like this one even better.

  SC:

Talking about writers, who do you read on a regular basis?

  RC: On the non-fiction front, Dr. Michael Heiser’s theological writing was quite helpful. As for fiction, two years ago I read through all the works of Lovecraft. I also read the first two Tarzan novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Out loud, to my tank of poisonous toads. They weren’t sure about the anthropomorphic apes at first but still got into the story. G.D. Stark’s Wardog novels are a very good read, although he needs more demons. I also finished reading John C. Wright’s Count to A Trillion series recently – amazing concepts, which he carries over into Superluminary. I’m waiting expectantly for the second half of Vox’s A Sea of Skulls but have entertained myself during the wait by reading all the Arkhaven and Dark Legion comic book titles.

  SC: Thanks for your time and good luck with the new release.

Q&A with Richard Cain published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[smartagepl]

Ze względu na ilość zadań stawianych amerykańskiej flocie, ma ona na sowim wyposażeniu wiele nietypowych jednostek pomocniczych. Jedną z nich jest USNS Lewis B. Puller. Jest to jednostka typu ESB (ang. Expeditionary Sea Base), czyli pływająca baza i platforma przeładunkowa dla sił ekspedycyjnych. 10 lipca 2017 roku okręt rozpoczął swoją pierwszą operację.

Geneza

Amerykańska flota prowadzi operacje praktycznie na całym świecie. Zakres wypełniany zadań jest bardzo szeroki, od zadań patrolowych przez działania przeciwko piratom aż po operacje desantowe i ekspedycyjne. Zwłaszcza te ostatnie wymagają użycia wielu specjalistycznych okrętów, które mają pomagać w sprawnym przerzucaniu żołnierzy z morza na ląd.

USNS John Glenn

Ze względu na różnorodność  operacji desantowych i ekspedycyjnych – nie zawsze są to wielkie operacje, jak np. lądowanie w Normandii w 1944 roku, US Navy zdecydowała się na wprowadzenie do służby nietypowych pływających doków/baz, które mają pomagać w przeżucie sprzętu z okrętów transportowych na mniejsze jednostki desantowe, które dostarczają oddziały bezpośrednio na brzeg.

W 2011 roku US Navy zamówiła dwie pierwsze jednostki tego typu – USNS Montford Point i USNS John Glenn. Okręty te zbudowano na bazie kadłubów tankowców i oznaczono jako jednostki typu ETD (ang. Expeditionary Transfer Dock). Zaprojektowano je tak, aby mogły obsługiwać trzy poduszkowce. Już w trakcie ich budowy uznano, że chociaż ich konstrukcja spełnia swoje zadania, można opracować znacznie bardziej przydatną jednostkę o jeszcze większych możliwościach.

Poduszkowiec desantujący się z pokładu USNS Montford Point

Tak zrodził się pomysł pływających baz, czyli jednostek typu ESB. W przeciwieństwie do pływających doków, nowe okręty miały być wyposażone w lądowiska dla helikopterów, dzięki czemu oprócz obsługi poduszkowców, miałyby wspierać duże okręty desantowe i helikopterowce. Dzięki dodatkowym pomieszczeniom, okręt ten może być również wykorzystywany jako baza dla sił ekspedycyjnych, w sytuacjach, kiedy przygotowanie jej na lądzie nie jest możliwe. Pierwszym okrętem nowego typu został USNS Lewis B. Puller.

Pływająca baza ekspedycyjna

Zamówienie na nowy okręt złożono w lutym 2012 roku. Stępkę położono 5 listopada 2013 roku, a wodowanie miało miejsce 6 listopada 2014 roku. Okręt ochrzczono jednak dopiero 7 lutego 2015 roku, natomiast do służby jednostka weszła 12 czerwca 2015 roku. Próby morskie rozpoczęto 13 października 2015 roku. Podobnie jak w przypadku innych okrętów pomocniczych, również Lewis B. Puller otrzymał oznaczenie USNS, które nadawane jest okrętom należącym do US Navy, ale nie będącym jednostkami typowo bojowymi (takie samo oznaczenie noszą m.in. statki szpitalne typu Mercy).

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller ma 233 m długości, wyporność 78 000 ton, a napęd stanowią silniki diesla, zapewniające prędkość około 15 węzłów i zasięg 17 600 km. Konstrukcję kadłuba oparto na planach cywilnych tankowców typu Alaska. Załoga może liczyć 34 cywilnych marynarzy oraz 298 osób oddelegowanych typowo do zadań związanych z prowadzoną misją. Lądowisko zbudowane w centralnej części jednostki może przyjmować 4 śmigłowce CH-53 lub zmiennopłaty V-22 Osprey. Koszt budowy okrętu wyniósł 135 mln dolarów.

Okręt nie posiada uzbrojenia, a jego głównym zadaniem ma być wspieranie operacji ekspedycyjnych w rejonach, w których biorą udział mniejsze jednostki pływające – okręty typu ETD są jednostkami półzanurzalnymi, natomiast ESB wykorzystują dźwigi do spuszczania i podejmowania z wody jednostek pływających. Według założeń, okręt ten będzie wykorzystywanych w operacjach przeciwminowych oraz specjalnych, jako baza wypadowa dla komandosów.

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller powstał głównie z myślą o działaniach w rejonie Zatoki Perskiej. 10 lipca 2017 roku, po zakończeniu wszystkich prób i szkolenia załóg, okręt wyruszył w swoją pierwszą misję. Jednostka została przydzielona do 5 Floty, działającej w rejonie Zatoki i zastąpi w tym rejonie wykorzystywany obecnie okręt USS Ponce.

W grudniu 2014 roku US Navy zamówiła drugi okręt typu ESB – USNS Hershel “Woody” Williams. Stepkę położono 2 sierpnia 2016 roku. Jednostka będzie nieznacznie większa od USNS Lewis B. Puller i wejdzie do służby prawdopodobnie w 2018 roku.

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USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller

USNS Lewis B. Puller – pływająca baza Ze względu na ilość zadań stawianych amerykańskiej flocie, ma ona na sowim wyposażeniu wiele nietypowych jednostek pomocniczych.

[blawg2read]

RT @rpr8395: @F1 @MercedesAMGF1 @LewisHamilton So unexpected, so emotional, such an amazing reaction from @LewisHamilton The ch… https://t.co/49DnRCmtYt

So unexpected, so emotional, such an amazing reaction from @LewisHamilton The champ is a fan. Thanks Lewis so proud of you Merci champion🇫🇷

— Pat F. (@rpr8395) June 10, 2017

via Twitter https://twitter.com/F6Dominic