#despite how it may seem my bout of depression is not because of. circumstances. just the good ol depri =w=b

[autism-corner]

=w=

[thattimdrakeguy]

Weirdly enough Red Robin is the series I’d be most scared to review, because for obvious reasons I imagine more than any other character it’s the Tim fan base (I won’t say fandom, because I feel like that gives a different connotation nowadays. and it’s a bunch of chill, un-interactive but very passionate, chaps) that follow me.

And I’d just get sooo many people giving me nit-picks, and telling me stuff I already know.

Cause I can say anything against Teen Titans 2003, New 52, Rebirth, and Wonder Comics stuff cause that’s the generally agreed upon stuff that you can complain against for Tim. Cause like, to not play dumb to it, this whole Bat-Family fandom acts like there’s freaking laws to abide by if you don’t want a bunch of batty (not a pun, not even saying not a pun in sarcasm lol) fans and stans down your neck. Normally involving certain characterizations or comics that, honestly, aren’t even usually the more accurate ones, but the contradicting ones that don’t make a lick of sense, and that’s not even talking about the straight up fanon ones.

Not to say I wouldn’t get why it’s the Red Robin series that’d get people to give me crap out of all the Tim stuff, because I do. It’s a lot of peoples entry to Tim, and it’s pretty heavy implications of suicidal ideation, and more so obvious mental breakdown journey across continents means a lot to people. I can get why, and if it wasn’t those characters in it, I’d think it was great too.

Also I know for a fact people would act like I’m just bias for 90s Tim, and point out Timmy’s in a teddy bear hoodie in my header. Cause it’s the most weakest defense someone could possibly make cause they’re lacking an actual point. Like they know everything a fucking ‘bout me, when they don’t, I’m just allowed to think my own stuff, and I’m allowed my dang comfort art, so blah blah blah. I’ve proved myself enough. I don’t need some random dismissive guys random approval or not, but man can it be annoying when someone thinks they’re smart about it.

Like basically put, it would be very exhausting to go through the many different series and years of comic book content to explain why I think the way I do, when all the other person has to say is “I like this series a lot, and it means a lot to me, it’s story about depression, and plus it’s Tim being at the button of his sanity so-- And I think this person is stuck on 90s Tim” cause like I freaking get it, and acting like cause I prefer a different Tim comic means my opinion isn’t valid, is the most childish thing ya can really do. Like I love 90s Tim the most for a reason, and I started reading Tim as Red Robin first, ya ninny.

But to just be honest, it is an incredibly flawed series that has overall, in the long game, soiled the character of Tim Drake, and directly influenced the New 52 and beyond depiction of him. Not to give Lobdell an excuse, I just find it really odd that people getting praising it as the peak of Tim content when it’s even caused some really freaking toxic fandom beliefs.

When some of the most important scenes in the series are so botched that it has genuinely made people despise other characters when I don’t even think they were portrayed well for that to make sense. The messy inconsistent writing as it went between two different writers causing some absolutely terrible characterization for Tim that isn’t even always consistent within the series itself because FabNic is just awful, and how forgettable most stuff after the first story is.

That first story I can understand the love for it. But people treating the whole series as a whole like it’s a great journey of long-term story development just feels like a real bad describer for it. Because to me by the end of it’s run it caused Tim to be put in the terrible spot that he’s only now escaping from little under a decade later. As well as only really starting cause people in the company didn’t like Tim and the characters around them as much as you’d hope.

In total, I honestly feel like if it wasn’t released during a time were the common tastes were very edgy and emo-esque, as well as around the time the online fandom spaces were only really then being formed in a way that was practical for casual interaction and discussion, and being the only series titled “Red Robin” therefore people seem to think it’s Tim’s variation of “Nightwing”, when it’s honestly not, it wouldn’t be a series that highly regarded.

I’m not saying the whole thing is a pile of shit, cause it’s also frankly not. There’s some powerful stuff in there, and some moments that really do hit super hard in ways that don’t feel superficial. Cause another thing people don’t seem to understand that when I say his characterization isn’t good in it, does not equal me saying “He is not the same exact character he was 15 years before the series came out”, it legitimately just means I feel they took the character to places that felt more forced than genuine, or just had him stuff that goes against what he’d do for the sake of just being edgy as if it’s deep, even during his circumstances and it created people having a false understanding of who Tim is at his heart, that made it incredibly difficult for Tim to get a good story for basically a freaking decade.

It’s a series I want to review because I have genuine things to say about it, but when ever I do say anything about it I feel like I see several sub-posts that are almost undeniably about me (hasn’t happened for a while cause I don’t really bother talking about stuff I don’t like anymore, cause life's hard enough, and I’ve seen the worst end of a lot of people from it) trying to downplay me, because they got defensive about it, rather than actually trying to process what I meant by things instead of just assuming it cause it’s touchy for them.

Like I’ve openly shit on Damian’s most popular series’, and accepted fandom malarkey, because I legitimately think they’re overhyped as could be, not that great, and only have the popularity they do through bandwagoning and going along with things. And I did that while knowing how defensive the Damian fandom is, and how quick they are to just leak out nasty assumptions or outright suicide bait you (yes I remember someone tried to defend me by suicide baiting someone else, but fuck them too, I never defended them or asked them to. idgaf which fandom does it. i’m clearly not on anyone's team. this isn’t a fucking sports game).

I’ve even straight up shit on pretty much every single Jason story except Under the Red Hood, while defending some Robin Jason stories, and I haven’t even got crap on me for that, which is honestly strange. Surprisingly just got told “Ya know what. Fair point. I can accept that. I don’t agree, but I can accept it.”. Which given what I have been shown of the Jason fandom I expected much worse, but they’ve honestly been really chill with me. Me and the Jason fandom has been actually some of the most pleasant interactions I’ve had outside my own bubble.

The majority of Steph’s existence as a character I’ve criticized and gotten crap on it, but honestly I found the response of countless anons going “YEAH MAN I AGREE WITH YOU” and going way harder on her than I ever did to be pretty dang annoying, and even more annoying cause people kept thinking I said stuff I freaking didn’t out of it. So every now and again people will just straight up lie about me to my face. Like you try to talk to someone that’s been preparing to talk to you by fighting an imaginary version of yourself. It’s pretty difficult if I had to be honest. Talking ‘bout bias’s like I didn’t write TimSteph fan fictions before I realized they weren’t that great and didn’t work, while realizing that I honestly didn’t think Tim was into girls in-general.

But, to get back on topic, with the Tim fandom it’s less like, open faced attempts to make you feel like a garbage human being, and more just straight up rudely dismissive as quite often the ones I’ve seen do it try to portray themselves as some calm knowledgeable unbias source of Tim knowledge.

And there’s a different sensation of annoyance at that.

Like what is the point of trying to pretend to be some source of knowledge and for a few comradery, while also being a dismissive person that first has to make others seem lesser.

And there’s some that I’ve seen do it that I don’t even think are dicks honestly, and have no problem with it, cause it’s just so innocently “I just really like the series and still think it’s good”. That I’d be confused why people would think I have a vendetta against everyone else. I’ve never been like, straight up offended more than once over the specific topic of Red Robin. But it is a thing that makes me like “I’ll get so many people giving me crap over having a different opinion for this won’t I”. And get some people trying to validate just being a bit of a fucker to me for no good reason.

So like, may or may not write a Red Robin review, but I might not cause despite quite a few people in the Tim fandom being quite chill about it, there’s quite a lot of people that are low-key toxic about it, and a lot of bad fandom things came out of it as well.

[shidoukanae]

Pokemon SwSh Theory: Sonia suffers from (or was supposed to suffer from) PTSD

Having played through the Pokemon Sword and Shield games, I noticed something very interesting about Sonia’s character. If you talk to her outside of the game’s forced story parameters (and listen to her during a few of them), you’ll find that she seems to have a character arc revolving significantly around one thing: her trip into the Slumbering Weald when she was younger.

I don’t know how many other people have picked up on this because, through watching YouTuber’s playthroughs to refind scenes where Sonia says things, I’ve realized I’m probably one of the few people who keeps talking to her after story scenes are done just to glean more about her character through the hopes of changed-up dialogue.

And, wow. There’s A LOT about Sonia that either goes unsaid or is swept under the rug entirely during the development of her canon character arc.

To start this off, let me posit an idea that I hope will make sense by the end of this: Sonia suffers from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD.

I will also note I hold no true credentials to properly identify PTSD or claim that I’m an expert on PTSD. I have only done background research on PTSD and its symptoms so my guesses are noobish at best. However, I will try to represent the disorder as accurately as possible but if anyone has the credentials to stop and correct me please do because I realize I’m out of my element here.

This said, let me give a rough timeline of the lore tidbits given to us as players about Sonia and then corroborate them all together at the end to make sense of why I think Sonia has PTSD.

First off: let’s start with what Hop says to you at the very beginning of the game after the Wooloo ramming the gates enters into the Slumbering Weald. 

As stated above, Sonia once went into the Slumbering Weald and came out of it in a “real state”. It’s unclear what Hop means by this but, considering the context of the conversation (in which Hop is saying the forest is dangerous and it’s off-limits) it can be assumed Sonia was badly messed up by her trip in the woods in some way (and, given further context, I would prefer to imagine she’s been messed up in a mental way).

The next piece of information on this event comes from when Hop and you are about to receive your Dynamax Bands as well as after the occasion. Magnolia and Sonia are gathered in the living room and, as you enter a conversation about what you and Hop saw in the woods, Sonia asks:

This is worth noting because it shows Sonia holds an interest in the Pokemon they met in the woods. This is also further backed by what she says if you talk to her directly after this scene where she goes:

As seen, Sonia seems to recollect something about the Slumbering Weald (most likely seeing/meeting the legendary Pokemon) but is unable to consciously explain why she feels uneasy. This suggests that not only did Sonia come out of the woods in a bad state - she likely came out of the woods with no memory of what happened.

This is further emphasized when you talk to her in the Slumbering Weald after the post-game occurs. She meets the both of you in the Slumbering Weald. An obligatory cutscene occurs and, right before the cutscene where you put back the Rusted Sword and Shield occurs, you have a chance to talk to her. Here she says:

This gives the suggestion that, while not consciously able to recollect what happened to her in the Slumbering Weald, she remembers enough to still experience anxiety at being within the forest. 

All these factors combined lead to a single conclusion: Sonia once went into the Slumbering Weald, came out of it badly shaken, and because of her experiences there she suffers from selective amnesia. She unconsciously shows signs of having met something freaky (as hinted by the fact she has probably met the legendary before) and she also seems to have no recollection of what happened during her time in the Slumbering Weald despite expressing anxiety and unease at being in the woods/being reminded of them.

Moving on to things that show even further that Sonia suffers from PTSD, here’s a list of notable things Sonia has said/has shown that I will relate back to the disorder:

-Sonia has lost her purpose in life and feels like she’s going nowhere, showcasing insecurities in her position in life. This is most notable in her introduction if you talk to her after forced dialogue is done with:

and later on when her grandmother calls her out on doing nothing meaningful with her life:

It is also further lamented on by Sonia in two different conversations - each of which has her reassuring you that it’s just “adult stuff” and that you don’t need to worry about her problems (showcasing the potential for her avoiding her problems or, at the very least, not wanting to talk with others about them for support).

(^^^ I would like to note that it is Very Interesting that you, who is obviously much younger than Sonia, has been given the chance to tell Sonia “are you alright?” or “You’ll be alright!” to her at two different points in time. This, combined with the fact that Sonia tells the player they have a sharp insight later on, seems to suggest that the player can tell that something is, indeed, not right with Sonia and this obligatory offering of reassurance by the game is meant to hint something is off with her. Keep in mind that Sonia always deflects your concern for her with “I will make it through, don’t worry about me” which suggests she doesn’t want to open up to anyone else about her problems or acts like they’re trivial when they’re really not for her.)

From this alone, it is very likely Sonia suffers from some form of depression. It is strongly hinted at throughout the narrative that Sonia is disappointed with her lack of purpose in life and that it is impacting her negatively. 

I would also like to add as an interesting side-note that there is a tendency for Sonia to sigh a lot in the beginning of the game. This is more a fun fact than general proof of her being depressed but I find it interesting to see that she is sighing a lot - especially since I would suspect sighing is usually associated with sadness, tiredness, or an overall feeling of exhaustion.

-Furthermore, adding more on to the above, it seems like Sonia is estranged from the people she’s supposed to care about. This is most noticeable with Leon who she’s childhood friends with and once rivals with. Despite supposedly having a close relationship with him (as the game offhandedly suggests the potential for), I couldn’t help but notice how...hostile?...Sonia is towards Leon.

She snaps at him for being unable to remember their status together as rivals (granted, she had the full rights to as he was pretty much ignoring her), she shows insecurities in her life when she compares herself to him, the big strong Champion of the region (as shown above), notes with annoyance at how he has his “head in the clouds”, and even in her introduction she outright treats him with frustration, telling him off if he’s come to ask her about “some superstrong Pokemon again”.

~

~

For someone who’s supposed to be friends with Leon, these bouts of irritation seem a little offputting and overly aggressive. And while I do think some of what she says is meant to be comedic (because it certainly did amuse me to watch her introduction scene so the humor aspect worked if so) I also think it’s very telling of how she puts herself at a distance from Leon and even keeps him at an arm’s length with her childish behavior.

-One thing to notice is that Sonia has supposedly (and I say supposedly because this was never been pitched until Sonia outright states it in the post-game) lost her interest in Pokemon and her passion for it. This is reinforced by two different things in game: the lore provided by the inside of Opal’s gym as well as what she tells the player and Hop in the opening scene of the post-game.

In Opal’s gym, there is a section where you can find Opal’s notes on Sonia. There it is specifically noted that she “gives up too easy” and that this problem of hers is due to the pressure of being the granddaughter of the Pokemon professor. This further ties in to Sonia’s insecurities of her inability to go anywhere compared to her grandmother but it also showcases that she doesn’t have the passion to truly put her heart into the gym challenge she set out to conquer.

Furthermore, Sonia’s loss of passion about Pokemon can be noted in the post-game when she outright tells Hop and the player:

Sonia straight up admits a loss of love for Pokemon that she has now regained by involving herself in the lore of her region. This truly emphasizes the point that Sonia had, at one point, lost the passion she once had for Pokemon but now has regained it after performing the character arc she develops in the games.

...Now, with all these points said, I think it’s about time I relate these pieces of proof back to the idea at hand: Sonia suffers from PTSD and these circumstances and bits of dialogue prove it.

(Above from here)

To explain, PSTD is a disorder that occurs after witnessing a traumatic event. It develops in a person in different ways, but some of the more major symptoms include: a loss of passion in activities you once enjoyed, an estrangement from people who remind you of the event (or just estrangement in general), depression, and those with PTSD may suffer from dissociative amnesia (which is the forgetting of an important event related to a certain trauma).

You see where I’m going with this, right?

Sonia displays all of these symptoms. She has lost her interest in activities she once enjoyed (such as her love for Pokemon), has an estrangement from people she’s supposed to be close with (noticed by the way she keeps Leon at an arm’s length), suffers from depression (as can be seen by Sonia’s insecurities, her inability to open up to others about her problems, as well as her constant feelings of having no purpose in life), and especially suffers from dissociative amnesia (as she has no recollection of what occurred in the Slumbering Weald despite showcasing feelings of unease and anxiety about it).

All these factors combined, I think it’s hard not to believe that, at some point in time, Sonia was meant to not only tackle her problem of not having a purpose in life but, also, not getting closure for what happened to her in the Slumbering Weald. 

The game makes a significant point of showing that Sonia’s involvement with the legendaries when she was younger has impacted her character growth up until now. And, I find it absolutely crazy to believe that these ideas were brought up only to be dropped (and completely forgotten to be erased in canon) when nothing much came from them. 

Sonia could have had a really good character arc on getting over her PTSD, learning what happened to her as a youth and coming to terms with it through her journey to discover the legendaries (which would, of course, have forced her to come back to the Slumbering Weald to find closure for the trauma she experienced before the plot began). Instead, she gets half the closure she needed - finding her purpose in life - and leaves it open-ended as to whether or not she truly got what she needed (figuring out what happened to her in the Slumbering Weald and realizing she can move on now that she knows about the strange pokemon that traumatized her once before).

[forsakentoast]

Blessed Healing pt.1

Dedicated to @dinfeanoriel and @ourevergreen 

***there is mentions of blood and injury.

Seek and ye shall find. A flower amongst the rare. Blessed by the goddesses themselves, a flower with the power to heal. The Beati Sanitatem.

Finding the flower was no easy task. With little to no reports of such a rare flower, those sent in search were chasing what felt like a fantasy. As the princess’ knight fell grievously ill, hope was stretched thin. 

Until one day…

“Princess! The flower has been found!” came the response from the tired out knight. He had burst into her study room to announce the news she had been waiting to hear. “It is currently being transported here as we speak.”

“Tell me, how and where was this flower found?”

“My princess, the Gorons came stumbling across it as they were digging through Death Mountain. Did the noble thing and informed us immediately.”

Relief was written across the face of the young woman as finally her knight would be saved. 

“Were… Were there any other flowers growing nearby?” The hopeful tone shining through.

But the knight only gazed down and shook his head, “None, my princess. That is the only one to have been made known.”

Sighing, Zelda knew to expect that answer. Clearing her head, she stood from her spot and walked past the guard. “As it arrives, be sure to bring it to my quarters. The extraction must be immediate.”

With a nod, the knight waited for the princess to clear the room and went to inform the others of the order. 

-----

“Good to see you up and ready, general.”

A small smile graced the knight’s features. “You know I cannot be kept from action for so long. No sickness can keep me from my duty.”

“I guess there is no way to convince you to stay in bed for a moment longer, huh?”

A small laugh was huffed in reply.

“Do you… Are you feeling alright?”

“Never better. That flower really is blessed. I feel… so energized. Like I can take the Calamity all on my own.”

“Ha… Sure, general. As if that could ever happen. As I recall, the prophecy states that it is the duty of the princess and her knight to seal away the looming threat.”

Gathering long red hair into a low ponytail, the knight threw a look at the young woman near the doorway. “Always have to include yourself in everything, huh?”

A laugh was shared between the two as they walked side by side to do the day’s duty.

----

“If I may ask, what brings this visit to our domain, Princess Zelda.”

“King Frenal and Queen Veela, I wish to gift you the Beati Sanitatem. It seems the flower has taken a liking to the wet climate your domain brings about. It really is a shocker, seeeing as it drastically changed it preferred climate. I am sure you were aware of my scouts camping out amidst your forest?”

“And why gift it to us? A rare flower, such as this one, should have been fine in your capable hands. Have you not thought about cultivating it?”

“Cultivation was tried, my good king, but it ended in utter failure. The flower began to wither and die. It was returned to its original place in Death Mountain, but it still continued to wither. Gerudo lands also bore no favor to the flower. Rito and the Hebra region all seemed to be fine at first, but the cold just slowed down the decay.”

Turning to get the plant from her knight, Zelda presented the flower. It did not fail to pull a gasp from those present in the Zora throne room. The flower as pale as the moon and its stem as green as the greenest of jades was as lovely to look at. Even more so with the blue ethereal glow it was encompassed with. 

“With all due respect, I am aware that the good queen has been having bouts of sickness. It seems more appropriate to gift it. I have no greed to possess such a flower when I already had what I needed. Besides, my knight is in good health, thanks to the flower’s healing properties. I’m positive, my gracious queen, that  your health will be restored.”

Agreements were exchanged between the two kingdoms, and the flower was gifted. With the knowledge Zelda possessed, the petals were harvested and carefully consumed by the queen until the flower was no more. What little time was given with the flower, notes were recorded. 

Within the observations, the legends of the Zora royal family possessing the ability to heal began. 

But diverging from those legends, another being bore the power to heal.

----

Running. 

It was all that could have been done. The rain blinded both the princess her knight. Link led the way. 

Chaos reigned all throughout the land. Screams of despair echoed all around. Explosions rocked the earth and the deep panting could only fail to act as a filter for what was happening. 

It was with a false hope that Zelda arrived on time to aid her father and the castle. But all hope died off as she laid her eyes to the waste and ruins that was Castle Town. Something within told her that all was lost. Even the life of her beloved father. 

The distant, bellowing roars from the divine beasts rang from miles away also set a sense of dread that slowly confirmed her greatest fear. 

A seemingly harsh tug and pull to another direction snapped Zelda from her daze. She could only focus on her knight who led the way towards the Dueling Peaks, presumably to lead her away from danger. 

It was difficult to keep up. Trying to not trip over your own two feet and drowning out the cries of those in chaos was overwhelming. Too much to handle. And Zelda felt herself slipping, knees crashing to the ground as everything became too much. 

The rain did nothing but aid her lament. 

“Gone… They’re gone... Link...” the words were spoken with too much disbelief. As if they were unnatural to have stumbled out of her lips. “I… I failed them all. I left them all to… die… All because,” the lump in her throat made it all the more difficult to speak, “this cursed power… the birthright given to me couldn’t be h-harnessed.” And the dam broke. Tears intermingled with the rain as her sobs tried to cover the chaos happening. 

She felt consoled by her knight. Both stayed there for what felt like forever, at least it felt like it, until a pained sob broke through the depressing moment. 

Zelda and Link both looked around for the sound. Link uttered an apology and stood up from the princess, looking around. Trees obscured the vision and with the chaos still occurring, Link was on edge.

A pained grunt came and Link couldn’t help but quickly point his weapon at the direction of the source.

A young girl who looked to be the age of 12 was leaning against a tree. Blood seeped through a wound that was on her right side. Skin paling and wide brown eyes frantically looking at the young man in front of her.

“P-please,” she whispered, “Help me.” She sounded so scared. 

The young girl could only grunt in more pain as she tried to readjust herself. A hiss of pain left between gritted teeth as the wound was accidentally pressed on. Eyes fluttered open as a hand caressed her face. She took in the two people before her. Maybe they would be her salvation.

Zelda’s voice cracked as she spoke, “W-what’s your name?”

The young girl weakly responded, “Olivia.”

More soothing hands caressed her face.

“Will you help me?” came the strained reply.

“Of course. Of course.”

Zelda shared a grief stricken look with Link. The sad look in his eyes also confirmed what Zelda was thinking. This young girl was not going to make it. 

Frustration wanted to pour out of the princess. She felt helpless. Everything seemed to be left to Link. Her uttered words of comfort felt like it was the most she could do. Clenching her hands to her dress, she solemnly nodded towards the young man in front of her. 

Adjusting herself once more she looked at the girl, “Olivia, my good friend here… He can help you.”

Pained grunts came in response. But the pair gazed into her eyes, a new found hope shining in them. 

As easy as he could, Link cradled the body and made sure to rest his head upon hers. One last nod goaded him on and he began to hum. His golden hair turned ruby red and started to glow a ghostly blue light that engulfed him and the girl. 

As the light began to fade away and the red turned back to blond, the young girl could not help but send a small smile of gratitude, as her last whispered words were, “Thank you.”

There was no time to bury the dead. Link knew that. And he hated the disrespect he felt towards the young girl. With the usage of his ability in this circumstance, he felt his energy greatly drain out of his body. He felt his hold slackening but willed himself to hold on for a bit more. 

Despite the exhaustion, grief pulled harder. This young girl is around the same age as his sister. He wanted to shake those thoughts away. He tried to settle that his family is safe. That they escaped. Plucking small weed flowers and quickly cutting small branches, he made a small bouquet and laid it on top of the girl. 

She looked so peaceful. Save for the bloodstain, she appeared as if she were sleeping; without a grimace to mar her features. For now, that brought a small peace of mind. Once this was over, he would come and make sure a proper burial was given. 

He swore on his life. 

Standing up, Link wanted to stumble. The ground could not have looked more welcoming. He could have taken a nap right then and there if it hadn’t been for Zelda pulling him as she began running. They had to get out of there. They had to keep moving. 

Every step they took was one step closer to getting to where they needed to be. 

Passing through the Dueling Peaks did not ease the settling dread Zelda began to feel. To her, it felt heavier with every step they took. But she pushed through. For her and for Link. 

As soon as her steps faltered, Link pushed through at the forefront and led the way once more. 

They had to reach at least the gates of Fort Hateno. Maybe then, horses could be supplied and make the trip even faster. Regrouping and getting Zelda to safety were the top priorities.

“Watch out!”

Link tumbled to the ground with the princess in tow. He cursed himself as he realized his mistake in being so lost in thought. Whatever exhaustion clung to his weary bones were immediately forgotten as Link was now alert and awake. Taking one quick look at the princess and making sure she was okay, he did a quick sweep of the chaos in front of him. 

Fear wanted to seize his movements. Make him stop short when he saw what awaited them. Guardians littered the fields. He was lucky to have had Zelda push him out of the way of a stray shot. 

Taking one deep breath, Link immediately went to analyze the situation. Maybe they both could move within the cover of the smoke; quickly run and use some the downed guardians as cover from those who are mobile. 

Following his gaze and guessing his train of thought, Zelda spoke. “I’ll follow wherever you go. But Link… Please… Promise me that if it gets too much, leave me and save yourself. If I get hurt, save yourself.”

She was only met with a frown. 

“You are exhausted. You may do a phenomenal job at hiding it, but I can sense it. I may currently serve no use,” a glare from her knight, “but I can manage to find my way.”

She was right. Link felt exhaustion crawl up and slowly lay claim to his soul. It was times like these where he wanted to curse this power. Every time he had to use it, it severely drained his energy. He was lucky to have still been awake, especially from the task he did with the young girl beforehand.

He just had to push through. He just had to. For the sake of the-

A beep caught his attention all too late. The repercussion for the delay in reaction earned Link a shot to the leg. 

Oh how he wanted to curse out loud. Another beep later and narrowly dodging, Link hissed as he landed on his bad leg. Quickly pushing himself and ignoring the pain, he hobbled over to Zelda.

“I’m fine! Stop fussing over me!”

She quickly stood up and tackled the knight to the ground as another beam shot their way. “Over there!” she pointed to the slight right. About 26 yards or so, a legless guardian glowed an infected red, staring at their direction until it opted to whirl around in search of its next target.

“When it turns to face the opposite of that fallen wall structure, we have to make a run for it. . The smoke should play in our favor.” Looking between the guardian, Link, and the destined spot, Zelda exhaled and directed her gaze towards her knight. “Link I’m sorry to ask this… but quickly heal yourself. Now!” she hadn’t meant to be harsh, but she knew that he would have persisted on that bad leg. She silently begged for the goddess to hear her at least this once and grant her the strength to pull the weight of her companion.

All was silent once more as pained hums and grinding of the guardians. As it was over, Zelda looked him over. Visible bags became evident under his eyes as the strenuous effort to heal himself was done. Labored breathing filled both sets of ears as Link tried to gain purchase and stood. 

It was an act of mercy that the immobile guardian was looking the other way. With steeled resolve, two sets of feet sprinted and dodged behind the collapsed wall. It was in good luck too as the machine whirred back to life and was getting ready to charge another shot.

It was unfortunate to have a shift in winds. The dread in Zelda’s stomach manifested even more as black smoke obscured their vision. Infectious reds could be seen peeking out through the smoke. Some boldly shining, while others flickered about. 

It was now or never.

Hand in hand, both the princess and her knight sprinted across the field. Both were ignorant of the puddles splashing their legs, nor did they mind the slippery mud. Their sights were set on reaching the gates of Fort Hateno and a main priority was dodging guardian beams.

A burning sensation bloomed across his shoulder as he was thrown a couple feet forward. 

‘Damn guardians,’ Link cursed.

Zelda was lucky to have escaped with minor scratches and bruising here and there. That cursed blast sure did get them by surprise. Shaking her head to gather herself quickly, she saw her knight sprawled on the ground a good foot or two ahead. 

“Hylia, please!” She ran up and dragged him off. 

She thanked the heavens as another blast was sent a few seconds from where he previously laid. Plants and earth were sent flying as the beam hit, fire sparking only to be put out by the rain. 

Link was breathing heavier as the seconds passed. His shoulder was burning, he could feel something wet running down his face, and his thoughts were reeling. He looked around to ground himself. He saw Zelda give him a smile of relief. The smoke was still present. The rain still fell. And a guardian was looking right at them. A guardian was looking!

Pushing himself up and realizing that it was too late to dodge, he did the logical thing, use his body as a shield. With arms stretched and a defiant look, Link braced himself for impact. 

Sensory overload was what he felt. He barely recalled the pained gasp that left his mouth, nor did he remember how when he crashed into Zelda. Burning was felt everywhere. Pain blossomed on his chest. The wind was knocked out of him. In his daze, he did not feel his ability self-trigger; he just felt so tired. 

He had to fight.

He had to protect.

Protect.

Fight.

Protect.

He was so exhausted. Every guardian he downed was met with another looming over his head. He was not so lucky to have dodge some beams or from fires that spread just before being extinguished from the rain.

He was gasping for breath. Bleeding wounds were in greater numbers. Burns littered his body and a lucky shot found its mark on his face, leaving it exposed and tender to the touch. The glow encompassing had long left his body. There were some wounds that were half healed while plenty of others were left untouched. His ability had abandoned him, having shut itself off by his stubborn will that barely registered that it was active. He needed his energy. Stupid thing.

They were almost halfway there. He cleared the way for Zelda, he just needed a bit more. He silently begged for Hylia to give him strength to push through. None was given. The duo were outnumbered. Through the smoke, the malice-infected machines found the very targets they were sworn to protect. The ominous clacks they released soon came closer and closer

Using the Master Sword as a crutch, Link pushed himself up. Body screeched in response as painful protests were given. The dark bags under his eyes became even more pronounced, eyes a lot dimmer than earlier. Exhaustion wanted to pull him deep under. Black danced across his vision and his hearing was muffled.

“...ink… Link!” Zelda frantically called out. “Link! Save yourself! I… I can protect myself! Save yourself!”

Her cries were all but ignored as he gave himself one final push to steady himself. 

The clacks were inching closer. Closer. Closer. The red finally peaked through the smoke. It charged it self to deliver one final blast to rid of the young man staring boldly at it. 

“Save yourself!”

Her screams were shrugged off as his demeanor changed into a snarl. If this beast takes him to the grave, so be it. He wouldn’t be the only one. 

Before the beam was discharged and his fate accepted, Link felt himself shoved out of the way as the princess shouted, “No!” and a golden light shot out from her outstretched hand and into the heavens. It was a beautiful sight. All that was encompassed by it, felt a purifying energy. But just as quickly it was summoned, it just as quickly disappeared. 

He really wanted to say something. Anything. Pride swelled in his chest, he knew that for sure. Before he opened his mouth, exhaustion pulled at him and he collapsed on the ground. The impact on his battered body was not enough to garnish nothing more than just a groan. 

He was fading fast. He barely caught the regret in Zelda’s voice. As he embraced the darkness, he felt the way Zelda held him. Such tenderness. He wanted to say something once again. Staring at her, he just left. Inky darkness pulling him deeper into a void and he knew nothing.

Until a century later when he awoke.

[anlheu]

Breaking the Taboo

It's been quite a while since I wrote something and posted good stuff on Instagram. For months, I've been knee-deep with my MA, finishing my TESOL and other online courses, doing some volunteer work, teaching my students, and working extremely hard to fight my depression.

Yes... you read it right. I'm battling depression that's why I can't post something positive. How can I spread positivity when even I couldn't feel it? False positivity is just not my thing.

It started about 6 or 7 months into the pandemic last year... I've been in and out of a dark place. From a different perspective given the current circumstance that we all find ourselves in, I could be considered as one of the lucky ones because for one thing I'm physically healthy among other things to be grateful for. Yet despite that, I find myself experiencing anxiety, sleepless nights, and demotivation. There are times when even getting up from the bed feels exhausting.

Being inside of your head is the hardest and scariest place to be when you are depressed. It feels like there's this part of you that's in a deep pit wanting to climb out but can't or don't know how. The emotions are just too chaotic and overwhelming. There were moments when I couldn't do anything productive for a week or so, and I would feel guilty and hate myself for that causing another bout of anxiety. Honestly, it's exhausting that you just want it to be over as soon as possible.

Every night I pray that when I open my eyes the next day, the fog would be lifted or at least I could get through another day no matter how hard it is. Every day, I wake up and do my best to fight the demon inside me. I do all sorts of stuff that I know could make me feel better somehow just to get by. At the back of my mind, I've been thinking that there are people suffering more than me, but they continue to live. It also occurred to me that I shouldn't invalidate my feelings... that it's normal to feel this way.

So about three months ago, I decided to conduct research on mental health as my course project. I've been thinking that since my mental health is threatened, I might as well learn more about it and raise awareness to help normalize conversations and break the stigma and discrimination regarding mental health.

I'm still in the process of climbing out of this pit by telling myself that I can't solve the world's problem, but I can somehow help if I redirect my energy in doing something good for me and those around me, to not react to every single thing that's out of my control, and to be open and honest about what I'm going through because I cannot advocate for something unless I share it, thus I'm putting this out here.

I think that admitting that you are depressed is one step to helping yourself get out of the dark place. People with depression aren't looking for pity...knowing that there's someone you can talk to without fear of judgment when everything feels overwhelming is good enough. This is based on my personal experience, I would still advice those who are experiencing severe depression to consult with experts.  

There are a lot of people fighting their silent battles. Maybe you know some or maybe you don't. But if ever that you have family or friends who seem to be withdrawing or disconnecting from the world, try to reach out and ask how they are. If they don't respond to you in what is considered an "acceptable" amount of time, let them because they may need the time to process their feelings and thoughts or to "re-energize." Just remind them that you are gonna be there whenever they are ready. Better yet simply make it a habit to reach out to friends and family every now and then because we may see them smiling and laughing, however, we are unaware of how they truly feel.

Depression is dangerous because you can't see it; it's a "virus" that cannot be cured by vaccine and may lead to irreversible consequence.

To help normalize conversations on mental health, break the stigma and discrimination, and genuinely help people suffering from various mental illness, you can...

EDUCATE YOURSELF. BE KIND. BE SENSITIVE. HAVE AN OPEN MIND. ADVOCATE TO ADDRESS AND TREAT NON-COMMUNICABLE DISEASES.

Depression does not equate to insanity.

[meta-journal]

Experiences with bottom dysphoria.

To preface, at the time before my surgery, I was in the most severe, debilitating dysphoria I’ve endured in the duration of my life. I experienced severe depression and suicidal ideation stemming from my lower dysphoria and the agony of having the incorrect body parts/sex. Surgery was an absolute for me, and it was an absolute lifesaver. Even though there are limitations to the surgery I had and there are new issues that have come up since then (which I’ll discuss later on in future posts), I am able to function now and not spend the majority of my life in pain.

That isn’t to say that my experience with lower dysphoria wasn’t always like that, though. Originally, when I first started transitioning, it was something I very rarely thought of. Logistically, I was aware of the changes testosterone would make but that’s really all I thought about it for the first few months. My focus was very heavy on my chest and needing top surgery - so in essence, bottom dysphoria or really thinking anything about it was put on the backburner. I thought about surgery but wasn’t sure about my feelings toward it. I had other, more pressing concerns.

There were times before my top surgery and afterward where I would get bouts of bad lower dysphoria, in which I mainly coped by dissociating from it. I would distract myself and not think much about it, even though I struggled deeply with not having a penis. But it wasn’t completely unbearable at that point in my life.

When I had my hysto later on in 2015, a few months post-top surgery, that’s when my lower dysphoria exacerbated. I believe it was due to the ever constant shift in dysphoria and going through the mental checklist of what needed to be fixed, removed, etc., and realizing that since everything else was taken care of, my only true problem area left was indeed my genital configuration at the time. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I realized more and more over time how much I despised what I had going on and how much I needed to change it. 

My bottom dysphoria itself got so bad after that point that I was holding in my urine because using the restroom (the actual using part itself and having to clean up afterward) would give me panic attacks and send me down a spiral of deep, deep depression. I could barely get dressed, put on my boxers and pants. I had to routinely pack but sometimes that only made things worse, as it only reminded me of what I didn’t actually have. I felt trapped and suicidal, and scared, and hopeless thinking that there was absolutely no way out. I was desperate for surgery, and I had my initial consultation for metoidioplasty with Dr. Toby Meltzer in Scottsdale, AZ in October that year. I was able to schedule surgery for the following August, but with some resolve, managed to get an earlier date for May. Every day of my life up until that point was spent in pain and constantly counting down until I knew I could get things fixed. I was ready to kill myself if I didn’t get surgery, I was in that much agony. I felt guilty, I felt ashamed, and I hated the fact that I needed surgery so badly while it seemed like other trans people/trans men were doing just fine without needing bottom surgery, or didn’t even really have lower dysphoria at all. I envied them, because I never wanted to have to go through it in the first place. But everyone’s circumstances are different, and it took me a long time to realize that.

Having surgery helped me tremendously, and helped me to be able to function a normal life again. My dysphoria is still there, though I know that regardless of how far I get into transition, there will always be something that will set me off. But I am able to cope with my life now and live with my body despite the limitations, and I would do it all over again if I had to.

[beautifulannihilationbook]

Chapters 1-9

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO HELL… I turn the dial on the radio desperately searching for a human voice other than the emergency alert broadcast. Just five minutes ago, I watched in horror as a cascade of nuclear warheads descended upon every major population area in no less than a five-hundred-mile radius. They glassed the cities and towns with ground shaking explosions, as they detonated I felt the searing heat and did my best to shield my eyes from the blinding light. After I regained my senses I realized I was stranded in the middle of West Virginia; the EMP from the nuclear detonations fried the car’s circuitry and overheated the engine. Luckily, for me I was on my way to deliver parts to an automobile repair garage, and had with me all the necessary components to perform the needed repairs, and after about an hour, I was back on the road. Coming out of the rural purgatory that I had been navigating for the past hour I finally find a station, but it is not what I expected. “Hello world, can you hear me now? Have I made enough noise for you to take me seriously? It doesn’t matter, even if any of you are still alive, you won’t last long, the world is in flames, quite beautiful don’t you think? I call it hell on earth, the epitome of my soul. Rot in your own flesh, you worthless pieces of meat, goodbye.” Says the voice on the radio in an eerily calm voice. I recognize the voice immediately. I cannot believe he actually did it; he could never forgive the world for what happened to her. He swore his existence to making everyone pay for it. I just never understood how a simple human had a capacity for love so intense that losing it could bring such devastation and malice. Though there is much about him I never understood. The way he could never seem to make friends, despite his intelligence and true kindness, and how he could find the best in the worst of people. He was always mysterious, a little dark too. However, he was never violent, and always willing to forgive. I guess we all have our breaking points, and he reached his a long time ago, when he met his love and lost her too. All in one tragic year in high school, the same year we met, and I found out what our future would hold. He explained to me his many plans for military experiments, I guess this one was a success, because everywhere I look right now, I see fire. Now I have no plan on what to do, so for now, I will just keep driving. CHAPTER 2: “THE DESTROYER OF WORLDS” Allan was always a quiet kid, never got in fights, always avoided trouble, and tried to get good grades. He also never stood up for himself; he never even really talked. He seemed like he was always thinking. Many people did not know what to think about him, so they decided he was dangerous. It might have just been rumors, it might have been the hair, or even the frequent all black clothes, but people tended to get scared when he was around them. When he actually tried to get close to someone, they would push him away out of fear. They did not understand the vast capacity of love, kindness, generosity, and understanding that this kid had. He did everything he could think of to change the way people saw him. However, nothing really changed, he was simply too shy, he could not bring himself to talk to people. He was afraid of everything, the world scared him. He had voices seemingly all around him, jeering, hating, and condemning him to failure. Sometimes, they were even inside his own head. However, he was smart, and he had a knack for technology. He knew how to make things, and make them well. His peers did not realize it, but his teachers knew he was bound for greatness. He had already taken college level classes, and patented a new type of high-density photo reactive material for television screens. It was his best work at the time; he knew how to create complex materials built to withstand lots of rough handling. Eventually it would serve him in a very interesting way. Though in this period in his life, it served only as a hobby. His true passion was passion itself, expression, writing, poetry, and love. He admired romanticism, and he fell in love with Edgar Allen Poe, and Shakespeare. It reflected the way his mind worked, dramatic representation of love, betrayal, loss and revenge, the desire to avenge, and the total sense of despondence when the loved is lost. This embodied his life, and it would eventually make it into a tragedy. When he got into high school, he had a few problems with a few girls, each one scarred him bad, but one would never be a scar, it would remain an open wound. Her name was Anna. She was two years younger, a free spirited girl. She was a sweetheart on the outside, but like a trick candy the inside was bitter, sour, and it would burn your mouth if you tried to bite into it. Allan would make the mistake of biting hard into the rough sugary exterior and it would break, revealing the bitter filling that would burn his mouth like an acid, and yet he would still swallow. With separated parents, and a drunk, abusive father, she needed to grow up fast. She adopted a calm and collected personality in the hardest of situations. To make up for it, she acted childish around her closest friends. It was a mask she made, a way to hide her pain. Perhaps she wasn’t aware of it herself, but she was losing herself to the act she was putting on. There was one person, however, that she used a different mask around, a person who she would victimize in an ironic bout of unfortunate circumstance that would destroy his life, and countless more. His name was Allan Garren. She approached him one day, when she noticed him gazing from afar, and something deep within herself sparked a strange desire to be with him, made even more intense by her sadistic persona that had quite the opposite intentions. Allan was wary at first. He was mistrustful and cautious. However, Anna was prepared and capable. She drew him out with her charm, and gained his trust quickly. Soon he loved her in the most inconceivable way. Now no matter how bad Anna would treat him, he never saw her differently. He was completely blind to his own pain. Even though everything he thought he had was a game. The game that would prove as a checkmate for the entire world. CHAPTER 3: LIES AND LOVE CAN BE THE SAME THING Anna was a pretty girl; she was popular, talented, charismatic, creative, and sadistic. She loved life and wanted to be a mom. Although she had been through many rough spots in her time, she had a good life. One day, in eighth grade she met a kid named Allan. Biggest. Mistake. Ever. She decided to have a little fun with him, she knew from the rumors around school that he was strange. She caught him staring and took her chance, approaching him and introducing herself. He was shy, but she knew how to bring him around. She pretended to be in love with him, it was like a game, a dangerous game, but a game nonetheless. She played with his heart; however, it was more of a voodoo doll than a board game. She was enjoying it until he started planning a future around the “relationship”. That’s when she devised her creative escape plan. Starting with the fake depression. She acted as though she had uncontrollable episodes in which she spewed out nonsense about being possessed and cursing people who get too close to her. It scared him, but it only intensified his desire to be there for her even more. After that plan backfired, she decided that she would tell him that she was incapable of love. This may have caused him extreme pain; however, it once again made him want to be the one to help her learn to love. It was, after all, his Shakespearian passion. Seeing this desire, she thought that it would be efficient to convince him that she is unfixable, and that she was not good enough for him. This only accomplished one thing; it made him feel even more worthless, because he felt he was not good enough to make her happy. She knew she could easily tell him she just didn’t love him, but part of the game was to avoid personal guilt. This became worse and worse as she continued to try to slither her way out of this relationship without having to feel guilty. She dragged it out over the summer, unfortunately she found out she had caused Allan to become extremely depressed, to the extent that he had nearly attempted suicide twice. That’s when she decided there was only one way to break it off indirectly. She told a close friend about the suicide threats. She played the victim of a scary stalker psycho, telling about the obsessive nature of Allan’s love. Naturally, her friend told her father, who in turn contacted Allan and demanded that he cease all communication with poor little Anna. This caused Allan to hate himself, so Allan decided that he would get help, truly believing he had hurt her. At that point, she had completely abandoned him. Never again did she think about what she had done to someone that she secretly felt something special for. Until one day, it hit her. Then everything changed. As for him, he never forgot what he had done to the only one he had ever truly loved, and it tore him to shreds. However, for Anna, it solved all her problems for a long time. Allan, even after the hospital, never really recovered, he remained obsessed with Anna, and though he loved her, he never spoke to her again, as he respected her wishes to remove him from her life. CHAPTER 4: SCORCHED EARTH Driving through what used to be Cleveland, I search for any signs of life. This was of course a pointless endeavor; the earth here has literally been turned into glass. Fallen buildings lay everywhere, rubble scattered like fallen leaves in autumn. I wanted to hold onto hope, but it doesn’t take long for me to give it up. I don’t even bother to get out searching what few structures still stand; no one could have survived it. Downtown Cleveland is not even there anymore; it’s only a crater now. The massive loss of life here is too much to think about. I begin to zone out when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see someone running towards my car; it’s a young dark blonde girl, probably fourteen or fifteen, she’s short and emaciated. I stop and pull the 44. Magnum out of its holster. I step out of the car and run over to her, tears and blood stream down her face, her arms and stomach are lined with cuts and bruises. I grab hold of her and hold her head against my shoulder. “Hey, hey, what happened to you?” I ask, rubbing her back. She angrily shoves my hand away and pulls back from me. “They killed her, they're all fucking dead!” she screams through filthy tears and blistered lips. “Who killed who? What are you talking about?” I ask. She looks at me, startled and confused, as if I’m the one who should know the answer instead of her, but after she thinks for a moment her confusion turns to horror. She doesn’t answer my question; I don’t think she can in her dissociative state. “They’re still chasing me” she says after a few moments, her breathing speeds up and she begins to hyperventilate, “they won’t stop, they’re not done with me.” I look back at where I saw her come from, sure enough, about forty yards away is a group of men with rusty blades in hand, they are clearly out of their heads on some kind or kinds of drugs. I pull the young girl behind me and raise my gun. I fire a warning shot, but they hardly seem to care; whatever narcotics they had taken left them oblivious to reality. “If you don’t want to die today, turn back where you came from” I shout. To no avail, it’s as if they couldn’t even hear me. “ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?” the girl screams furiously, grabbing for my gun. I look at her, realizing just from the look in her eyes that they weren’t going to stop their pursuit so long as they were breathing, and I knew in that instant that they don’t deserve to breathe anyways. I sight them in with my magnum and fire, two bullets strike skulls, one strikes a heart, the last two strike lungs. After the last man drops to the ground, I reload and check their vitals, four dead, the fifth sputters and coughs; I kneel down and roll him on his back and look him in the eyes. I doubt there was anyone really in there, pupils dilated, eyes bloodshot, he was dead before I shot him. I sigh, taking in a deep breath, and standing up to orient myself towards the young woman I just recued. She has stopped hyperventilating, she looks calm, but I can tell it’s not calmness, she’s zoning out of reality, “Are you okay?” I ask, realizing it was a stupid question the moment the words leave my lips. “No” she says, not breaking eye contact with the ground. She tries to wipe the blood and tears from her face, only succeeding in smudging the muck even more I move myself into her line of sight and hold out my canteen, maintaining eye contact, the eyes can sometimes speak better than the lips. She looks at the canteen, motionless for a few seconds, her eyes fixed hypnotically on the cap. “Thanks.” She replies, with an empty monotone voice, not looking to me, but still to the canteen. She holds it, remaining motionless, and seemingly slipping back into a trance. I take back the canteen and pour water on the sleeve of my shirt, using the dampened cloth to wipe her scarred and bloody face. “What’s your name?” I ask, dabbing her face with my shirt. “Ashley” She replies, her eyes are still gazing, unmoving from the spot where the canteen was. She seems to be calming, realizing she is safe for now. "Ashley huh? I like that name." I say, handing her back the canteen. Her eyes slowly turn to me. Her head follows after. “Drink some water; I have more in the truck.” I say, pushing the canteen to her face. She takes it and gulps it down, taking only a moment to breathe between drinks. When she finishes she looks back to me, holding the empty container weakly towards me. “So what happened back there? Who were those people?” I ask. “Those people.” She says, her monotone voice haunting my ears. “They took us, my friends and everyone else from the fallout shelter we were hiding in.” she explains. Her eyes are terrified “They shot all the men and raped the women, they raped us all,” She continues. “Even the children.” She adds, her voice monotone and emotionless. Tears fill her eyes; she suddenly looks terrified. She turns to me, her eyes expressing more agony than I’ve witnessed in my whole life. “Everyone I know is dead.” She says. Her breath is shallow; she speaks as though she didn’t already know the information she was hearing from her own mouth. "Hey, it is going to be okay, you’re safe now, you just survived, you didn't let them win." I say, attempting to reassure her. "Oh they won alright.” She says, a laugh split with a sob escapes her mouth, “they may be dead but they got everything they wanted from me” she adds, her words barely audible through her gasping cries. "Ashley, I can't even imagine the pain, but I can tell you this, from now on, you and I are family, and I will protect you, now we need to get somewhere safe, the others might be coming, come with me” I say, taking her hands. “Don’t touch me!” she shouts, pulling her hands back and stepping away. “Okay, okay.” I say calmly backing away, holding my hands up. “They’ll kill you too” She says, pointing at me and slowly backing up. She slips on some rubble and falls backwards. I quickly advance and catch her by the hand. “Well if we are both gonna get killed, then how do you feel about some revenge along the way?” I ask, pulling her back upright. The subtle smirk on her face was all the answer I needed. Chapter 5: MASTER OF ANNIHILATION “All the players have shown their hands, but I hold all the cards” Allan soliloquizes as he targets the world with nuclear Armageddon. “I am about to end the game with the sweet kiss of death” he continues as he flips the switch to send the nuclear holocaust on its way to humanity. “I’m sorry I could not have been there for you the one time you needed me. I never did a single thing right for you, I caused you so much fucking pain, not a single moment of serenity,” he says to his beloved lost one, Anna. “What the fuck was I waiting for?” He asks himself as the hundreds of nukes rocket from the facility, causing the ground to shake. “I could have saved you, you deserved better than what you got.” he continues with increasing frustration and pain, as he preps his experimental gunship for launch. “YOU DESERVED TO LIVE!” He screams as he flips the self-destruct switch on the nuclear missile complex’s leftover warhead stockpile. Instantly, the entire planet seems to shake, the mechanisms in the complex begin arming every single warhead, moving them all down to the lowest platform at the base of the mountain. The event that was about to occur made Allan’ fingers twitch with excitement. He exits the lift out of the mountain detonating the system of C-4 on the mountaintop. The mountaintop begins to cave in on itself, burying the entrance to the complex in hundreds of tons of snow and earth. As he counts down the minutes to the explosion, he smiles to himself. “Retribution” He mutters as he pauses in front of his massive gunship. “Time to wake up” CHAPTER 6: FLASHPOINTS EVERYWHERE “Sir, we have a problem” says Colonel Jack “We have flashpoints, over 800 all across the board!” he continues with a stunned impression plastered on his face. “This is unbelievable, the entire world has been hit, all except for Russia” says Captain Ed, staring in amazement at the map. “Sir we have an incoming transmission, its coming from everywhere, someone has hijacked the entire satellite system!” says Comms Officer Gerald. “Put it on now.” says the Captain. “Welcome to my lovely exhibit, I call it home, you call it hell, and I honestly cannot find a difference between the two. For me, the world has always been a living punishment of the worst possible kind; I just made it look more like one. Anna was the one and only good thing I could find in it and you animals let her die; no, you all contributed to her death.” bellows the almost inhuman voice of Allan through the PA system. “And so now you burn with the rest of this pitiful world.” He adds, ceasing the communication. “What the hell?” says the confused comms officer. “Sir there’s something on the horizon!” yells Jack, looking closely at the radar, “it’s a nuclear missile!” he adds. “DIVE, DIVE!” yells Ed. The massive submarine dives deep into the ocean as the nuclear missile detonates above them disintegrating over a hundred feet of water, causing a small whirlpool to form. “Are we okay?” Ed asks frantically The officers all check their systems, turning to Ed and giving a thumbs up. Ed breathes a sigh of relief. “What the FUCK was that about?” asks Jack angrily. “My daughter. . .” replies Ed. “What?” Inquires Jack “Anna” he responds, solemnly, as he remembered what happened. CHAPTER 7: REVENGE IS SWEET “Hey I never got to properly introduce myself, I’m Joseph.” I say, smiling at her in the rearview mirror. “Hi Joseph.” she says unenthusiastically. “Are you gonna be okay?” I ask, fishing through my duffle bag. “No, I don’t think so” she says staring down at her bruised thighs. “Ashley I am so sorry. I know I cannot undo what has been done to you and I cannot cure you of the memory of that hell, but I am here for you and I will listen to whatever you have to say and do my very best to help you recover.” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder, with one hand and putting a 44. Magnum in her lap, “Do you remember where those bastards were holding you?” “I remember every fucking detail.” she says solemnly, taking the gun and examining it. “Where at then?” I ask “Museum of Natural History” she says, checking to see if the gun was loaded, smiling when she finds the cylinders populated by six hollow point rounds. “How fitting, they are after all, about to BE history” I reply with a chuckle. Ashley’s lips turn just enough to be considered a grin. I take a turn back towards the museum. Back when I was younger I used to go there all the time, but since then, the place has changed significantly, after the year 2018 they lost a lot of funding due to a change in the administration, President Trump wasn’t too interested in funding museums, it took money away from the development of bigger better war machines. The museum became little more than a few exhibits featuring animals that used to be alive, so now it may include exhibits with African lions, tigers, and polar bears all of which became extinct in the last five years. “Did you ever get to see the museum when they had dinosaurs on display?” I ask “I never went there, I wasn’t all that interested in history, I went to the science center a lot though, and the rock and roll history museum.” She replies. “Ah yes, the Science Center,” I say, reminiscent, “I must have been there at least a hundred times in my life” “Did you ever try that spicy chocolate from the gift shop?” she asks. “No, that sounds disgusting.” I say, laughing ‘It was pretty nasty” she agrees, smiling. “Did you ever try the astronaut food” I ask “Yeah, the ice cream was actually pretty good” she replies. “That was the only good one.” I say, “The rest were disgusting” I laugh She looks content, smiling at the floor. I take the exit leading towards the natural history museum, “We are almost there, are you ready for this? You don’t have to go in.” I say, looking at her through the rearview mirror. “I need to do this myself.” She says, confidently, “I have to see them die.” “I’ll be right there with you.” I say reassuringly. As I pull into the driveway, I see a couple dozen bodies of young women lying naked on the lawn, Ashley sees them too, her face expressing a horrid combination of fear and anger. “Ashley, aim for the lungs” I say grabbing my shotgun and preparing to go in, Ashley follows right behind me. One of the bikers spots me and before I could get a shot out, he yells “Intruder”. All of the sudden there are four of them. Ashley wastes no time, shooting all four in less than 6 seconds. We rush into the building and check the halls to make sure it’s clear, then head into the main lobby. I have to cover my nose when we walk in, it smells like blood, shit, and semen. The floors and walls are splattered with blood, there are mattresses scattered on the floor stained with blood and god knows what else. I notice two more bikers, I shoot one and Ashley shoots the other. Then I see him, a huge man, the skin around his arms is stretched by the size of his muscles, I get a sick feeling in my stomach when I see the way he looks at Ashley; I run straight up to him and with the adrenaline from my anger I manage to tackle him to the ground and pin him. “REMEMBER ME BITCH?” Ashley screams, firing her two remaining rounds in his kneecaps pausing to reload, and then emptying all six cylinders striking his critical muscles, essentially disabling his movement. As Ashley reloads once more, I jump off of him and back away out of fear, she unloads the third set of bullets into every non-vital organ I can think of. She then pulls out a knife, already covered in dried blood, the look in her eyes is unsettling. She jumps on top of him and begins stabbing him repeatedly, carefully avoiding his heart and lungs. “Ashley, what are you doing? Just kill him!” I shout as the man screams in agony. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MAN DID? ALL THE PAIN HE CAUSED?” she screams in return, looking into my eyes through her tears. “I WANT HIM TO BEG ME TO KILL HIM” “I can’t even imagine, but torturing him like this won’t change what happened, it only brings you down to his level” I reply as I carefully walk towards her. She loads a single round into the chamber and points the gun at me. “Ashley, look at me” I say, holding out my arms, “I know I just met you, but I know this isn’t who you want to be” She stares at me for a second; she gives me a look I can’t quite explain, her lip quivers and she starts to cry, then places the gun to her own head and pulls the trigger. “ASHLEY NO!” I scream, only a fraction of a second too late I grasp her wrist as the gun falls from her hand; as it hits the ground my heart drops. “Goddamnit Ashley…” I cry out, “Why!?” My heart skips every other beat as my chest contracts. I pull her in as her body melts into my arms. I take in shallow breaths, as I attempt to bring myself back to reality from my panic. I look down at the blood on my hands. I hold her silently, my heartbeat slowly returning to its normal rhythm. “I don’t want to be anyone” She cries, her lungs straining to take in air through her chest muscles tightened by the agony she is in. “Did you know the chamber was empty?” I ask, gently rubbing her back with my still shaking hands. She shakes her head against my shoulder. “I’m sorry I pointed it at you” She sobs. “It’s okay, that’s not what I’m upset about, I hope you know that.” I say, starting to cry. Ashley is interrupted by a loud coughing, followed by labored laughter. We return our attention to Ashley’s rapist. “Even now, though I am bleeding out on the ground, my men dead and my body useless, I still have the power to kill you.” He says proudly. Ashley picks up the gun once more and spins the cylinder. She then points the gun directly against his head and pulls the trigger. *click; the hammer lands on an empty chamber, the man stops laughing. “You are not a monster.” She says, pulling back the hammer once more. *click “You are not my greatest fear.” *click “You are a killer of people weaker than you” *click “You are a coward” *click “And because of that, even I am stronger than you” The hammer strikes the center of the back of the bullet casing, igniting the gunpowder and sending the round through the man’s skull and into the ground beneath him. Ashley pauses for a few moments before speaking. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” she says, wiping the tears and mucous from her face before standing up. “Aren’t we going to look for your friends?” I ask as she walks back towards the exit. “I already found them,” she says pointing to the lawn where the broken corpses of women lay. “Ashley. I’m sorry,” I mutter, but it’s pointless, no words can express the pain I feel for her, and nothing can console her after what she’s experienced. We both walk silently to the car, this world is cruel, and I don’t know why anyone survived this hell. CHAPTER 8: EVERY TRAGEDY HAS A VICTIM “Sir, what about her? You told me your daughter died in an accident.” inquires Jack. “Well I lied, she was killed, and I wasn’t there to help her. You see, Anna was a CIA agent sent on a mission; however, it turned out that her mission was to spy on China. While doing her mission, she found out way more than she was supposed to. The government was raising taxes by a ridiculous amount, taking people’s homes, killing innocent people, and destroying the environment, but then she went even deeper, she found that the US government was in on it, in fact China had been acting under the control of the US. Anna tried to get to the public with this, but the CIA stopped her and had the Chinese kidnap her. Allan knew what was happening and he warned everyone, when no one listened, he went in and tried to save her. Damn kid nearly succeeded too.” Ed explains “What? He went in alone. Sir that’s impossible.” Exclaims Jack. “You have no fucking idea what this kid had for my daughter.” Says Ed. “He’s only human, how could he assault a fortified military compound single-handedly?” Reasons Jack. “With makeshift body armor and a machete. . .” CHAPTER 9: LAST WORDS LEFT UNSAID… ” Anna where are you?” Echoes my blood-curdling scream through the gore filled halls of Alcatraz. I have taken nearly 80 rounds and my armor is starting to fall apart. I clean the blood off my machete, and reload my pistol before returning it to its holster. Turning the next corner, I hear what sounds like crackling electricity. It has to be where they’re keeping her. I kick in the door and am immediately thrown to the ground by the immense force of buckshot to my chest. “I got him!” he says triumphantly to the other men in the room. “Watch out!” they scream back in horror as I get back up and rip the gun from his hands. He swings his fist at me; I dodge it and slice his arm off. “Where is she?” I scream as I snap his leg and continue into the room. The man screams out in pain, I rip my pistol from its holster and plant a round in his skull. As soon as I walk through the door, I freeze. I stare in agony at the abomination before my eyes, God, please no. “Stop right there!” the men shout, lifting their weapons with their shaking arms. “What have you done?” I ask, slowly turning my head to face them. I am trembling with anger. I begin to step towards them. “We were only following orders.” One man replies with his shaking voice. “What does it matter? Your life ends here.” says the other man with foolish confidence as he opens fire. I brace myself and charge, as the rounds flatten against my armor, I press forward, channeling my anger into my forward motion. “Why won’t you die?” screams the man. His magazine is empty. I take my chance, grasp his shoulder, and thrust my blade through his sternum and into his heart; I stare into his eyes as life fades from his body. “It’s not my time yet, but now is yours” I say, pulling my blade back as he falls to the ground. I turn to the shaking man. “Please, I didn’t want anything to do with this sick assignment” he begs. “And yet here you are, following orders.” I say to him as I step forward. “I was dead either way; you don’t understand these people I’m working for; you see what they did to her. Now what do you think they would have done to me?” he says. I look to Anna, she is naked, covered in electrodes, strapped to the wall, bruised, cut and beaten. I step towards the man. He is trembling. The gun falls from his shaking hands as he backs away. “And who are these people you work for? Who gave this order?” I ask “I… I don’t know… evil people… but they are government workers, the order came from high up.” He replies I knew it; the American government has grown more and more corrupt. It looks like Anna had gotten to close to their secrets. “If I ever see you again, you will die, now run!” I shout to the man. “I’m so sorry.” He says as he runs through the door. I turn to Anna. “I’m sorry I was too late…” I say as I walk to her, but I stop, frozen, as I notice her chest moving, she is still alive. “ANNA!” I scream, running to her. “ANNA CAN YOU HEAR ME” I scream, but her lips are glued shut. “If you can hear me Anna, nod twice,” I say. *Anna nods twice “Fuck, Anna I’m so sorry.” I say, tears beginning to fall. * Anna tugs at her restraints “Let me get you down from there” I say, taking my knife out to cut through the restraints. *Anna shakes her head That’s when I see it, spikes on the wall, driven through her back; if I take her down, she would bleed out in minutes. “Damnit Anna, there’s nothing I can do!” I cry out * Anna shakes her head furiously She is trying to say something; I can barely make it out. “Anna, do you want me to kill you” I ask with my broken voice. *Anna nods twice “Very well, we shall go together I say, pulling a grenade off one of the men. *Anna shakes her head furiously “Why Anna? Why can I not end it all here?” *Anna shakes her head slowly “Fine” I say, dropping the grenade and pulling out my pistol. “Please forgive me Anna.” I say placing the gun to her temple *Anna nods slowly “I’m sorry…” I whisper as I pull the trigger. The world becomes silent. I stand there in that spot for what feels like an eternity. When I regain my sense of reality, I begin to cut her down. I pick up Anna’s body, and carry it out of the building. Blood drenches my body, as with hers. Someday, I shall make the world burn for this.