#he hit a possessed and dying Billy with a car

[grandwretch]

just saw someone compare Eddie to billy like hold on man you don't have to like the guy but if you're going to say "annoying about board games and sometimes a shithead" is equally bad as "racially motivated assaulter" then maybe you need to like look into your own heart

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Broken Halo - Whumptober 2023

Then a scream. Not in the room, in his head. It stopped everything. He couldn’t feel anything. It was white hot yet freezing cold. He couldn't see anything but the white force around him. He felt something being taken from him, ripped away but he didn’t know what.

This was death, this must be what dying felt like there was no other way. He must have died in that crash, it had to have been worse than he thought and this was a weird hallucination as he died alone on a country road. Pain and blood and emptiness all curdled into one.

----

An extended scene of when Billy gets possessed

For day 23 of @whumptober . Also on AO3

Words: 1054

Something rustled in the undergrowth around him. This is why he hated Indiana. Dark, humid and alone. He didn’t want to have to walk to that motel, or home. He didn’t want to hitchhike either, although he could probably just wait until Karen came driving past and hope for the best. If not, there better be a payphone somewhere close by, his head was really starting to hurt. 

“Who’s there?” He called into the night.

No-one answered. More rustling, around him, and a distant clanking sound coming from the warehouse. He had the strange feeling that he was being watched. 

Catching where the rustling was coming from this time, he shouted “Hey! I said, who's there?”

No answer again. He went to go back to his car to see if it would start when something reached out. Maybe it was the head injury making him sluggish, he’d had plenty of them over the years so knew what to expect, or the fear forming in his stomach that something was off, but he missed exactly what it was before something, or someone reached out and grabbed his leg. 

He fell to the floor without grace, his head hitting the wet layer of leaves on the floor and skidded backwards toward the empty warehouse. He didn’t interrupt something did he? Contrary to what Hawkins wanted you to believe, there were undesirables messing up their perfect little town. Billy was probably one of them, and his drug dealer, Eddie, was too. This wasn’t where he dealt to get his stuff was it? He didn’t actually know, he just took the weed, and maybe something stronger when things were really bad, and left. 

Broken out of his thoughts again, he managed to grab a doorway as he was pulled more and more downwards. His hands were clammy from the goings on of the night, so he slipped off and bumped down the stairs into even more blackness before he had a chance to come to terms with what was happening. 

He hit his head again on the railings as he landed in a basement. No one was in the shadows. And whatever pulled him down here didn’t show itself. Because he was sure now that this wasn’t a person but a thing. It didn’t feel like it had teeth, so not a feral dog or coyote. Did you even get coyotes in Indiana? What about bears? Not the time, Billy. 

A radius of pain hovered around his head like a broken halo. He lifted himself off the ground to try and get away but became aware of a sickening weakness dragging him down. The stairs in front of him became blurry as he army crawled his way to them. To escape.

The thing reached out from the darkness again and grabbed his leg. This was a peculiar situation. Creepy and close in a way he didn’t like. The air felt like a cold, clammy breath that somehow made his hairs stand on end and made him sweat all at the same time. It felt like being ill, that feeling of not being able to breath through your nose and shivering with a fever for days on end. 

He stopped where it had originally put him. Instead of it pulling away though, the thing that was pulling him made itself known. It was a dark green, almost black, tentacle? What the fuck? That wasn’t a coyote, was all he thought as a mouth opened on the end and darted out toward him. 

He didn’t get a chance to dodge it. Didn’t get another chance to escape before it latched onto his face and pulled. Was it killing him? He couldn’t describe what was going on. The feeling of vomiting and choking all at the same time. Like a bad kiss and a bad high mixed into one. The sourness of bile sticking in the back of his throat as he shook and felt something, physical or not, going in. 

Struggling didn’t do anything. He tried to reach up, to pull it off, he didn’t want to have any aliens pop out of his stomach like in that film, but it was latched on. It carried on harder, stronger, digging into his face so much he swore it was drawing blood. Maybe that’s what it wanted? Was he food? Was he going to die?

The pain got worse. He couldn’t deal with the sensations and tried to force it off, tried to make it stop as it encroached on him more and more. He was beginning to feel violated in the worst way.

As it got closer, he began to see flashes of something. A house, one he swore he’d seen on his night drives around Hawkins. People without eyes, blood on their faces, body contorted. A lab, a girl, children with tattoos of numbers on their arms. Flashing lights and blood on white tiles. A hole in the wall, no, a portal opened up. A girl struggling in a tank, running in the rain. A kid, that Byers kid he thought, getting pulled away, a monster stalking a party. Dogs, not dogs but something similar chasing Max, Max? Tunnels making things rotten, a stranger world so similar to his own by a dark reflection.

Then a scream. Not in the room, in his head. It stopped everything. He couldn’t feel anything. It was white hot yet freezing cold. He couldn't see anything but the white force around him. He felt something being taken from him, ripped away but he didn’t know what. 

This was death, this must be what dying felt like there was no other way. He must have died in that crash, it had to have been worse than he thought and this was a weird hallucination as he died alone on a country road. Pain and blood and emptiness all curdled into one. 

Then darkness. Stillness. Quiet as whatever it was retreated. Billy lent over and vomited. His head hurt more but before he could get up, a voice in his head said ‘Stop’ and the worst thing was that he listened. He listened to it without question. Neil could only dream of this kind of cooperation. 

‘Sleep’ was the next command. And he did just so, as the world went dark. He stopped questioning it. 

----

The prompt was "Who's there?" and my first thought was of Billy getting possessed so here we are. I'm very proud of this, the description especially, I think I captured what was in my head very well. Thanks for reading! @whumptober-archive

[buck-yyyy]

what is your controversial stranger things hot take?

oh. oh i have so many. several of which i don't want to share LMAO

but here's the one that's the most fleshed out: people who think that billy should never existed are A. wrong and B. stupid (okay that sounds mean but. hear me out)

i've talked about this before, but billy is a wildly important character. he's funded max's entire character arc, he's fleshed out the world, and he serves as a minor antagonist in season two and a more major antagonist in season three.

is he violently racist and abusive? yes. are scenes with him often uncomfortable to watch? also yes.

but that's the point!! you're supposed to be uncomfortable, and you're especially supposed to have mixed feelings about him in season three. the decision to have him be the meatflayer's puppet puts you in the exact same shoes as max.

on one hand, he's an awful person who repeatedly hurt max, targeted and borderline (not even borderline, really) terrorized lucas because he's black, and tried to run over a bunch of kids with his fucking car. he deserves to pay for that, does he not?

but on the other hand, the stranger things branded possession (and the subsequent ties to SA that are referenced with possession in the show, especially with heather--even thirteen year old me noticed it) is depicted as one of the worst things that can happen. you're still awake and aware as your mind and body are taken over and used for horrible, horrible things.

billy's possession raises the question of appropriate retribution and redemption. it's supposed to make you uncomfortable and think about what that means. his death is supposed to make you ask yourself about what true redemption is.

you're supposed to root for his downfall for season two. you want the protagonists to be safe, and so you hope that something happens to him to take him out--just like max--because he's an awful person and you've decided throughout the progression of the show that the only way for him to stop being a reoccuring issue, even with max kinda beating him up in s2, is his death.

and then they hit you with the "well, here's his downfall, but it's awful. it's messy. it's horrific."

and it makes you wonder, "...was that truly deserved?". and it makes you raise questions of morality. and it makes you feel kinda icky inside.

JUST. LIKE. MAX.

they want you to be uncomfortable. removing billy and replacing him with some kind of more palatable character that you won't feel conflicted about dying removes ALL of that.

this doesn't even go into the themes of the cycle of abuse that billy feeds into, which is IMO just as important as all this, but. yeah.

billy's important. you can't take him out just because he's upsetting. the goal is that he's upsetting.

[waiting4inspiration]

As it Should Be (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Summary: You try to get Billy to join the group after surviving the battle at the Star Court Mall, but he doesn't think he needs help. And yet, he's glad that you haven't given up on him

Warnings: strong language, mentions of death, mentions of the mind flayer, angst, fluff, happy ending, smoking, mentions of dying/wanting to die, mentions of trauma

Word Count: 2,144

Request: Hi Jess. I just saw that you were looking for Billy requests, so .. here I am. 😁 So, Billy is still alive after the fire of star court mall and the reader (who is not his girlfriend yet 😏) is trying to get him to be a part of the group. perhaps a happy ending where the reader & Billy get together?! That'd be lovely. Thank you. 😊

A/n: Requests for Stranger Things are open

Billy Hargrove Masterlist II Stranger Things Masterlist

If it weren’t for Eleven and Max’s friends, he would have been killed by the Mind Flayer. That’s a fact that Billy’s had to live with since the ‘fire’ at the Star Court Mall. He tries to go on with his life as if nothing happened. But he’s constantly reminded about one thing. He wasn’t supposed to make it out of there alive. He’s reminded whenever he sees memorial stories about Hopper or when he hears people talking about the former Chief of police that perished. 

The worst part of it all, he was saved by a bunch of kids. 

Not everyone could see the inner dilemma wreaking havoc on Billy’s mind. You wouldn’t have even noticed it had Max not brought it to your attention. He’s good at playing things off and whenever you asked him if he was okay, he would give you the same cocky smile while taking a half-smoked cigarette out between his lips and give you the same answer he always gave you when you asked him that. 

“Never been better, sweetheart.”

This time is no different.

His answer makes you breathe out a heartbroken sigh, your head dropping between your shoulders as the realization of what Max has told you hits you. Billy is not the same as he was before. You can now see it in his eyes.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Billy,” you say, looking up at him with a saddened look in your eyes. 

It’s sympathy. Billy has seen it way too many times when people come up to him and ask him how he’s handling things after the incident. It got to a point where it pissed him off and he told the person asking him that to fuck off. No one dared to ask him again. 

His sweet facade fades, irritation building in his eyes as he flicks the cigarette bud away and starts to walk away from you and to his car. “Who says I’m lying?” he snaps back at you, without so much as turning his head over his shoulder to look at you.

You rush around him to stop him from leaving. “I do.” Billy rolls his eyes, pushes you to the side, and carries on walking. “Everyone can see that you’re not the same after…”

You may have started off lying, but you knew that the next part of your sentence wouldn’t have ended well. 

“After what?” Billy shouts, turning back around to face you with such force that the gravel under his feet shifts, sending little rocks flying to the side. “Go on, (Y/n), say it,” he hisses, walking up to stand so close to you that you can smell the fresh tobacco of the past smoke cigarette on him. “After I was possessed by that thing? After I acted like a monster?” he says, his breath fanning over your face as he leans closer to you.

Your back goes rigid as you shake your head. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this,” you whisper, keeping your head up high.

Billy’s never scared you. You have been one of his few friends since he came to Hawkins and you two have been close up until he was possessed by the Mind Flayer. He drifted from you but you couldn’t blame him for that after you found out why. You knew that he still cared about you, deep down. It was one of the reasons why he was able to snap out of it during the battle of Start Court Mall. 

He runs his tongue over his lips, still staring deep into your eyes to try and intimidate you. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink.”

“I never said you needed to.”

“Then what? Talk to you?” He laughs, shaking his head as he steps back away from you again. It hurts your heart to hear him laugh like he can’t talk to you about anything anymore when he used to be able to tell you everything. “Like you would understand a thing.”

“Maybe I won’t understand, but there are people that will because they’ve been through this kind of thing before,” you fight back, following as he tries to walk back to his car. 

“People like those kids?”

You swallow roughly, seeing now that he detests the idea of having anything to do with the group. “They saved your life, Billy.”

“And I don’t need to be reminded about it, (Y/n). I know. I know they saved me. But you know, sometimes I wonder why. Sometimes I wonder what I deserved to be saved, and sometimes I wish that they didn’t save me because then I wouldn’t be bothered by annoying people like you always asking me if I’m alright or not,” he rants, furiously while glaring at you. 

You know he didn’t mean to offend or hurt you. This is just how he gets his feelings out because he’s witnessed his dad do it. It’s all he knows how to do and you can’t let it hurt your feelings. You tell yourself that at least he’s letting it out now.

Billy huffs out a breath, turns around, and walks towards the curb where he falls down to sit. He rests his arms on his knees and keeps his head between his shoulders. The sight tugs at your heart, pushing you to walk forward and sit down beside him. 

There’s a moment of silence between you two. You stare out at the setting sun while in the silence but you keep Billy in the corner of your eye, ready to jump in no matter what he does. 

You just want him to talk. You want him to say something because sitting in this silence when you know he’s going through turmoil in his mind is like torture to you. 

The moment he shifts, reaching into his jacket for his pack of smokes and a lighter, you watch him pull a cigarette out, place it between his lips, and light it. “Every night I have nightmares about…that thing,” he mutters, blowing a cloud of smoke out as he refrains from looking at you. “So I fucking hope you’re lying about those kids having been through the same thing.”

This is as close as it gets to Billy confessing that he doesn’t want anyone else, especially a kid, to experience the trauma he had gone through. 

But you know that if anyone will understand, it will be Will. He is open to talk about his experiences with Billy and everyone else in the group is willing to let Billy in after what happened. The issue is just getting Billy to want to talk and join the group. 

So, they left that to you to do, seeing as how you had been close to Billy. Everyone had thought that you two were a couple and were surprised when you told them otherwise. You had a feeling that maybe Billy would have asked you out if he didn’t end up possessed. 

But now, you fear that you’ll never find out. 

“We’re having a movie night tonight. At the Wheelers’. You should come. Maybe you’ll have some fun,” you softly say, hoping that this will work out the way you want it to. 

Billy scoffs, bringing the cigarette to his lips as he turns to look at you. “Like they’d all be okay with me pitching up.”

You shrug your shoulders, and give him a sweet smile as you reach to take the lit smoke from between his fingers. “Well, you’ll be my guest. So they’ll have no choice but to be okay with it,” you confidently say, digging the bud into the ground to kill it. 

It’s the first time you’ve seen him smile in a long time. And even though it’s very brief, only for a second, it’s like a fresh breath of air to see that smile. 

Billy doesn’t respond to your invitation. He doesn’t say anything else as he stands up off the curb and walks toward his car. You watch him from your spot climbing in and starting the engine, making the music start blaring as he pulls away. 

With a sigh, you mark another failed attempt in your mind to try and get him to join the group. Even if it’s just for one night. 

Max was sure you would be able to convince Billy to join in on the movie night. She told you ever since you and Billy had gotten close, it was like you were the only one who could change his mind. He always took your advice into consideration.

Now, things are the same as they were. It feels like you’re back at the beginning when you met Billy. Only, he’s withdrawn now, keeping to himself most of the time instead of chasing ladies where you struggled to get a moment of his time.

“I told you he won’t come.”

“Yes, thank you, Steve. I really needed an ‘I-told-you-so’ right now,” you mutter, settling down into your seat with a bowl of popcorn in your lap. 

Max sits down beside you, crossing her legs under her. “He’ll come through. He always listens to you,” she says.

Her words make you smile and you wrap your arm around her shoulders to bring her in for a hug. “Can we just watch the movie and have a calm night for once?” you ask, gesturing to the tv as you reach for a handful of popcorn. 

Everyone cheers and agrees, shifting and settling in their seats while Steve gets the movie ready. With Max leaning her head against your shoulder, you sink down into your seat and begin to relax. 

Just as you start to feel the tension in your body leave, the doorbell rings. It makes the group groan loudly. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Dustin mutters with his hands over his face.

Because he’s the only person standing, Steve goes to answer the door. You watch him leave the room, hoping that maybe it’s Billy. You know that it’s a stupid hope, so you just turn your attention back to the bowl of popcorn in your lap again, picking up kernel by kernel.

Steve’s quick to return and everyone turns to him as he walks into the room again. “It’s Hargrove.”

Everyone then turns their head to you. You waste no time in putting the bowl of popcorn to the side so you can stand from your seat. Your heart leaps in your chest as you make your way to the front door. The thought of your hope being real makes your heart skip a beat.

Seeing Billy standing in the doorway of the front door, you give him a small smile which he returns, to your joy. He shifts on his feet, runs his hand over his face, and takes a step forward. “That invitation still open?” he asks, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“Of course,” you whisper to him, holding out your hand out for him to take, which he does. 

As you lead him through the house, you can feel him tense up beside you, as if dreading what awaits him when he reaches the group. When you give his hand a comforting squeeze, he looks down at you. As he looks at you, he feels that anxiety slowly melt away. He decides to keep his eyes on you as you lead him. 

Billy isn’t shunned as he enters the room filled with those who he unwillingly fought against at the Star Court Mall, nor is he met with unwelcome glares. Not even Max makes him feel like he’s not welcome in her group of friends. 

His step-sister moves from her seat so that he can have the space beside you and she does so with a sincere smile. 

Halfway through the movie, when the popcorn bowl had become empty, you found a comfortable spot under Billy’s arm that lies lazily over your shoulder. He realizes the position you’re in and he breaks his attention from the movie to look down at you. 

Thank God you didn’t give up on him, he thinks to himself as his fingers lightly graze across your shoulder. Even when he was under the control of the Mind Flayer, you tried so hard to break him out of it, to get him to come back to reality. He’d never tell you, but he remembers every word you said to him through tears while he was in the sauna. 

He doesn’t know where he would be without you. Which is why when he takes you home tonight, he’s going to ask you out on a date. Not a ‘friends’ date where you two hang out. 

No, he’s going to do this right. The way he should have done a long time ago.

Tags: @magicalxdaydream

[straykidsnerd255]

Fourth of July

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Genre: Angst (SORRY)

Song: Fourth of July- Sufjan Stevens

Warning: Blood, gore, death, reader doesn’t understand she is dying, choking on blood, Billy sobbing, SEASON 3 SPOILERS, Billy lives AU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Billy gets possessed by the Mind Flayer and Y/n sacrifices herself so that Billy can continue living.

Word Count:1936

“It’s not my fault. It's not my fault. It's not my fault Max. I promise you, it's not my fault.”

 “What’s not your fault Billy?” 

“I’ve done things Max, really bad things. I didn’t mean to. HE made me do it.” 

“Who made you do it?”

“I don’t know, it's like a shadow. Like a giant shadow. Please, Max.”

“What did he make you do?”

“It’s not my fault, okay? Max, please. Please, believe me, Max, it's not my fault. I tried to stop him, okay? I did. *sniffle* Please believe me, Max. Please believe me.”

“Billy, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Max, please.”

“It’s gonna be okay. We want to help you. We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, okay? You have to talk to us. I believe you, Billy. We’ll figure it out together, okay? I need you to trust me. Please.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Everything went downhill. The kids were scared shitless when the Mind Flayer used Billy to break free of the sauna and chase after them. Y/n had gotten a call from Joyce about what was happening and Y/n raced to the mall. “Billy, please don’t do anything stupid! I beg you.” Y/n whispered as tears filled her eyes. She sped down the road before pulling up to the mall. She didn’t even bother turning her car off as she jumped from the driver's seat and raced into the mall. She spun around looking for the kids, Steve, anybody. She found them but it was something she was not expecting to see.

The monster that stood before he was huge. It swung its massive leg around and knocked into the pillars that held the floor above them up. The sound of cracking and crumbling could be heard and Y/n began running as the part that had been hit, crumbled to the ground. She looked around for something she could use as a weapon of some kind. However, she turned to look and see if it had stopped, only for a piece of the building to hit something just right that it smacked into her temple knocking her down and causing her to hit her head. 

Drip. Drip. Y/n opened her eyes and quickly stood where she laid. She spun around as the sound of something dripping on the ground surrounded her. Blood slowly fell down the side of her head as she watched her husband, Steve, Nancy, and the others fending off the monstrous entity in the mall. She ran her fingers through her hair that had been matted with blood and sweat. She knew something was off with her husband when he refused to go to the pool with her that afternoon. She looked around for anything that might give her a clue as to why her husband was acting like this but she couldn’t see or find anything. Now, she was standing in Star-court mall as Eleven and the others fought off a massive looking flesh monster. 

“You need to leave Y/n! Its not safe!”

El’s voice sounded so close but Y/n could see her fighting off Billy and trying to keep him at bay. Y/n could feel her throat close off as she tried to adjust to what was happening. She swallowed and found her throat dry and it hurt to swallow. She heard a loud noise and looked up to see Mike and the others throwing fireworks at the creature. She watched as it caught one in its mouth. It exploded causing the creature to back away and scream in pain. Y/n turned when she heard her husband’s cry of pain. “No.” She whispered. El turned her head to see Y/n still standing there. “What are you doing?!” She screamed. Y/n ignored her and darted around the falling ledges as the creature smashed its body against it. 

Y/n watched as her husband held Eleven against the ground before everything stopped. “Seven feet.” Y/n froze when she heard Eleven say that. ‘How did she know that? Billy told no one else than me and Max about that day.’ Y/n thought. Billy froze above her. Fireworks exploded above them as the rest of the team continued their assault on the massive Mind Flayer. The roar echoing around the building. Y/n stepped closer to hear what Eleven was saying to Billy. Her heart was not prepared for what that would entail.

“You told her. The wave was 7 feet. You ran to her. On the beach. There were seagulls. She wore a hat with a blue ribbon, a long dress with a blue and red flower, yellow sandals covered in sand. She was pretty. Billy’s eyes closed as his eyes filled with tears. Y/n was far enough away that she couldn’t see him crying but she KNEW he had tears in his eyes. Because she did. “She was really pretty. And you; you were happy.” Y/n watched Eleven place her hand on her husband's face and watched as Billy slowly came out of the possession. “WE’RE OUT!” Y/n could hear the others screaming in panic as they were running low on fireworks to keep the monster at bay. 

Y/n felt her heart race as the creature turned towards Billy and Eleven. Its sights were set on Eleven. It was set on killing her. To rip her apart. Billy slowly stood up and watched the creature before putting his arms up to stop the beast from attacking El. Y/n jumped and a scream left her mouth. She watched as the Mind Flayer pierced Billy’s sides with its tentacle-like arms. His arms were held out to the side as he screamed in their creatures face. He looked almost psycho in the light, the black blood staining his teeth. Y/n couldn’t face her life without her husband. She had helped him so much and he had helped her. She felt her heart racing in her chest. She knew what she had to do. 

The creature’s mouth opened and what looked like a tongue appeared. Its sharp teeth at the end aimed straight for her husband's chest to kill him. She narrowed her eyes and darted forward. Jumping over fallen pieces of the wall and supports. “Y/n don’t!” Billy turned his head just in time to see Y/n use herself as a shield to block the mind flayer’s attack. “DUSTIN SHUT THE GATE NOW!” Lucas screamed into the walkie talkie. Eleven screamed in pure anguish as Y/n was stabbed by the Mind Flayer, however, she held her ground and stared the creature down before it pulled its weapon from her.

“The evil it spread like a 

fever ahead

It was night when you died,

my firefly”

Y/n collapsed to the ground and once Billy was released, he crawled to her. “W-why would do that?!” He screamed, well, tried to scream. Y/n looked up at him and gave him a shaky smile. Y/n opened her mouth to speak but blood spilled from her lips as she coughed. Billy held her close to his chest as he cried. “Why did you do that?!” He sobbed loudly. Steve and the others continued to distract the Mind Flayer before it lost balance and fell to the ground; it was dead.

The dust cloud swirled around everyone. Billy was still looking down at his wife begging her with his eyes. He sniffled and tried to keep his tears at bay but he couldn’t. Not when his wife was laying in his arms dying. “I’m n-not dying, B-Billy.” You stuttered as your body started shutting down. She tried to sit up only to scream in pain. Billy wrapped his arms around her and finally, the walls he had put up, came crashing to the ground as he let a loud sob leave his lips. His tears ran down his face like a waterfall. They fell onto her face as he begged and begged her to stay with him. 

Y/n’s hand reached up to Billy's face and pressed against his face. He pressed a hand to hers and held it tightly. “Please don’t leave me. You and Max are all I have left.” Billy whimpered, pressing kisses to the palm of her hand. His tears were mixed with blood, dust, and the black blood from the Mind Flayer. “You will still see me.” She whispered. Billy felt his whole world shattering before his eyes. He tried his best to keep her eyes open, but it wasn’t long before her eyes fell shut and she took her last breath. Billy held her body against his chest as he sobbed loudly. “WHY!!!” He screamed as Joyce, Dustin and Erica ran into the building. “Y/n?” Dustin whispered as he saw his sister dead in Billy’s arms. 

“Did you get enough love, my little dove? 

Why do you cry?”

And I'm sorry I left, but it was for the best

Though it never felt right

My little Versailles”

Billy would never be the same after that night. He had lost his entire world in one night. He held her body as it grew colder and colder. The sound of sirens could be heard and Billy just screamed. Begged whatever god was out there to bring Y/n back. Max ran to her brother and dropped to her knees. She had just lost her sister in law and tears were pouring from her eyes. “This is all my fault. She’s dead because of me.” Billy whimpered out and he buried his face in Y/n’s shoulder. Max looked up at her brother helplessly before pulling both him and Y/n’s body to hers. “It’s not your fault Billy. If anything, it's the Mind Flayers' fault.” She tried in hopes that it would help Billy a little bit. It didn’t. Billy shook his head and sobbed. “Why was she the one to be taken Max. It should have been me. Not her.” He cried into Y/n’s hair and he held tightly to her dead body. 

“Life won’t be the same with her gone now.” Billy felt his bottom lip wobble as the paramedic lifted her body from his arms and carried her corpse to the ambulance. Max ran to her brother and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him from behind. Billy placed his hands on her arms and cried. “I’m gonna miss her, Billy.” Max whispered so softly that Billy almost missed what she said. A single tear rolled down his face as he turned to face his little sister. He lifted his hands to her face to check for any wound that needed treatment before pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m gonna miss her too, kid.” Billy whispered. The two siblings just sat there, trying to come to terms that the person they both loved was gone. “I’m gonna miss you Y/n.” Billy whispered softly. 

A soft breeze blew through and ruffled both his and Max’s hair. They both looked up to see a figure standing a little bit away from the mall. Billy kept his eyes on the figure before it disappeared in a wisp of air. He could feel a light feeling move through his chest before he turned to Max. She looked at him and Billy knew she felt the same thing. As Billy was being checked and bandaged up, a voice could be heard, but it was only Billy and Max that heard the voice. 

“And I’m sorry I left, But it was for the best.”

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 10

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9

Part 10

Hot on your trails, Billy followed you to the women’s bathroom. When the bathroom attendant chastised him for barging in there, he shot her an irritated glance. “You want to help her puke?” Billy asked pointedly as you ran to the toilet. The attendant put her hands up in the air and moved back, leaving him to take care of you. He pulled your hair back, holding the strands away from your face while you retched.

You groaned, sounding like you were dying.

“I know. It sucks. Just let it out. You’ll feel better,” he consoled, rubbing your back.

“Didn’t… even…drink… so… much… want… to… die…”

He chuckled.

“I’m sorry… don’t want you to see me like this…”

“I’ve seen worse,” Billy assured. Serving as long as he had with the guys from his unit, puke was nothing new to him. He flushed the toilet using his foot after you’d finally stopped gagging. After he helped you to the sink and you washed your face and hands thoroughly, he patted your face dry with napkins. There were a bunch of supplies on one corner of the table. Spotting the mouthwash, Billy picked up the bottle, handing the attendant a $50 bill, and brought it to you. You rinsed your mouth while he studied your reflection in the mirror. “You okay?”

You nodded your head ‘yes’, almost like a child. You were usually so calm and collected around him that it was strange to see you ruffled like this. Actually, it was adorable.

When he saw you close your eyes, he snaked his hand around your waist in case you lost your balance again.

“I want to go home,” you mumbled, turning around in his arms.

“I’ll take you.”

Your eyes were wet and glassy, filled with sleep. You gazed up at him with the dopiest expression on your face and if you hadn’t just puked, he would have kissed you. He was used to feeling all kinds of emotions when it came to you, lust, anger, frustration and so much more, but this was the first time he felt a pang of tenderness towards you and he didn’t know what to make of it. This wasn’t something he was familiar with at all.

“I have to tell Davina. She’ll worry.”

Smoothing your hair, he tucked in a loose strand behind your ear. “Want to go say bye?”

You nodded your head.

Billy held you in his arms as he led you back upstairs to the club, stopping at one of the bars to grab water for you. He spotted Davina sitting at the booth, talking to some guy, but she stood up immediately when she caught sight of him and you. Billy noted the immediate disapproval on her face. Frankly he didn’t give a fuck about what your friends thought of him but he knew how close you were to Davina. Her opinion mattered to you, and so he had to play nice and learn to get along with her.

Davina stood up and met Billy and you halfway, her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

“I think I’m done,” you sighed. “I want to go home.”

“I’ll go with you,” Davina offered. “Let me just grab Kiran from the dance floor-”

“No, you stay. Have fun with your cute guy.”

Billy scowled. Apparently you weren’t so drunk that you didn’t notice other guys. “I’ll take her home,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

Davina cast him a suspicious glance before shifting his attention back to you. “You don’t have to go with him. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not going to rape her when she’s asleep if that’s what you’re worried about,” he snapped, trying - and failing - to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“He won’t, he’s not like that,” you assured, shaking your head vigorously.

So you were angry enough to block him but at least you still trusted him. That was something, he supposed. “Can I take her home now? Or are we gonna keep discussing if I’m a rapist?”

You turned to look up at him, your intoxicated eyes pleading with him. “Can we leave?”

Davina grabbed his elbow, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you dare touch her when she’s wasted!”

“I won’t. Unless she begs me to,” he smirked, purposely goading your friend. Even though he had no intention of taking advantage of you when you were hammered, he felt no need to justify his motives or actions to another person. Before Davina pissed him off any further, he started leading you out of the club. You were resting your head on his chest while he retrieved your jacket from coat check. When he wrapped the coat around you, you snuggled into the fabric and moved away from him.

It was freezing cold outside and you started shivering. Immediately he pressed you flush against him to keep you warm. As the two of you walked down the street, his eyes fell on the very high heels you were wearing. “You okay to walk on those? My car is a block away.”

“Do you like my shoes?”

He smiled, indulging you. “They’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Like you!”

“Did you just compare me to your shoes?”

“As if,” you snickered, your voice simultaneously naughty and sweet. “My shoes mean a lot more to me than you.”

“Bitch!” he scoffed.

As you giggled in response, his attention was drawn to the low-cut neckline of your outfit beneath your open coat. God, your tits looked absolutely amazing tonight. He was struck by the memory of the time he’d made you come by simply sucking on your nipples, teasing them with his tongue, and you had spent the entire time moaning underneath him. You fucking loved it almost as much as when he ate you out. Billy gave himself a mental shake, telling himself to snap out of it. “How come you never dress like this when we go out?” he asked, hoping for a distraction.

The smile on your face disappeared, you didn’t say anything. You were quiet, too quiet. He didn’t like it when you were all in your head with your thoughts, shutting yourself off to him. The last time you did that, you stormed out of his life and blocked him. Fuck if he was going to let you do that again. Reaching for your hand, he laced his fingers through yours.

“We never went out. All we ever did was have sex.”

He flashed a cocky smile. “Oh, yeah.” He squeezed your hand. “I miss that.”

“What? Sex?” You sniggered. “It can’t have been that long. When was the last time you slept with someone?”

“A week ago, with you.” He felt your body tense at his answer. “And then you told me to fuck off and stopped taking my calls.” A bitter laugh escaped his throat. “Guess it wasn’t as great for you as it was me.”

You didn’t respond, quiet again, and he didn’t feel like pressing the matter in case you got angry.

Finally reaching his car, he opened it remotely. “Y/N, look at me.” You turned to him, staring up at him all doe-eyed again. “You can’t get sick in my car.” He palmed your face, trying to impress upon you the importance of his words. The Wraith was the first thing he’d bought when he finally started earning enough money and it meant the world to him. Next to Anvil, it was his most treasured possession. “Okay?”

You glanced at the car, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I should call an Uber.”

“No, I’m taking you home. You just can’t puke in my car.”

You turned back to him, frowning. “But I might and I don’t want to ruin it.” You pulled out your phone. “I’ll just call-”

He snatched the phone away from you, sliding it stealthily inside his jacket pocket. “Fine. Don’t worry about it. I can get it cleaned.” He walked to the passenger side and held the door open for you. Seeing how hesitant and worried you appeared, Billy regretted broaching the subject in the first place. “Hey,” he stroked your right cheek. “It’s not a big deal, I swear.” He noticed you swaying on your feet without his support and he moved to help you get in the car, covering the top of your head so you didn’t hit it against the roof.

A few minutes later he’d maneuvered the car out of the parking space and was on his way to your place.

Casting you a side-long glance, he noticed you had removed your jacket, which now lay bunched around your waist, and your head was leaned back against the passenger seat. Your eyes were closed, but he knew you weren’t asleep.

“You keep staring at me,” you finally spoke, turning slightly to look at him.

Billy’s eyes trailed down to your breasts again and he felt that familiar ache in his cock. “Maybe I miss you.”

Your mouth parted slightly, like you were contemplating what to say next. “Liar.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I am lying. I don’t miss your voice, your body, your smell, your laugh.” Maintaining a steady tone, he stared straight ahead. “I don’t miss the taste of your sweet cunt, or the filthy moans out of your mouth when I’m sucking your clit. I don’t miss how good you feel when I’m inside you and you’re begging me to fuck you harder.” Coming to a stop at a red light, he shifted his attention to you. Your breathing was shallow, your piercing gaze locked with his. “I don’t miss how you always razz me, how snarky you are, how you bite your bottom lip when you’re thinking. I hate when you come into a room and put on your charming act, everyone just gravitates towards you like you’re a fucking ray of sunshine or something. I hate how fucking brilliant you are, how smart. Your mind doesn’t fascinate me at all, and I don’t spend any of my fucking time thinking about what’s going on in that brain of yours.”

Billy noticed how you swallowed thickly, how you were squeezing your thighs together. Your skin was flushed, your breaths coming out in shallow spurts.

“I don’t want you. I don’t like you. I don’t miss you,” he murmured, his voice rasp with lust.

His words had the desired effect. You couldn’t take it anymore. Desperate to get off, your hand slipped between your thighs and you started rubbing yourself.

“Take off your fucking pants,” he growled. “I want to see your pussy. Want to see how wet you are.”

“Can’t… one-piece…”

As frustrated as he was at not being able to do what he wanted, he was still mesmerized by what you were doing to yourself. Your quiet moans had grown louder, more desperate. It was heaven watching you come undone. It was also sheer hell because he couldn’t fuck you himself.

As if reading his mind, you shifted closer, your body facing him. His eyes drifted down to your breasts again, barely covered, and he reached out to touch them. His fingers delved beneath the fabric of your top to tweak your nipples, playing with them, caressing them, until they were hardened nubs, ready to be sucked and licked by him. His mouth watered at the sight of your puckered nipples. God, he was so fucking hard.

Then you took his hand and guided it down to your cunt, urging him to play with you. He felt how wet you were through your clothes, you were so fucking turned on. He rubbed your pussy expertly, tapping and teasing your clit, and the guttural moans that were coming from your mouth only aroused him more. With you, even dry humping was hot.

It only took a few more seconds for you to come, and when you did you were all soft murmurs and tender sighs and it took everything he had not to pull you onto his lap and fuck you right then and there.

His hand crept up to your breast, resting over your heart as you slowly returned to the world. When you opened your eyes again to look at him, they were brimming with emotions. “Thank you.”

He smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“I owe you a blow job.”

His eyebrow quirked up. “Suck me off because you want to, not because you think you owe me.”

The innocence displayed in your smile completely belied your wicked words. “I like sucking you off.”

His hand reached out to play with your hair. “Good.” He winked at you. “Feel free to start any second now.”

“I’m not blowing you when you’re driving! I want to get home alive.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, pouting.

You simply smirked in response.

Soon, a comfortable quiet fell over the two of you which was an unusual experience for Billy. Years of working recon meant waiting, watching, studying the enemy, the atmosphere charged and tense before chaos struck and the inevitable happened. But this was different. The tension was sexual, the dread non-existent. There was just him and you, and it was perfect.

Your phone buzzed in the inside pocket of his jacket, which made him wonder if the loser you’d been talking to was now calling you. Fucker really had no game if he was calling you so quickly. Eager prick.

“Did you mean it?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“What?”

“What you said in the club. About killing the guy who was hitting on me.”

Apparently you could read his thoughts now. “Every fucking word.”

You sat up, your eyes fiery and volatile. “You have no right to interfere in my life, Billy.”

“I have every right.”

“How would you feel if I started harassing you about the women you sleep with? What if I went all psycho on them?”

He turned into the parking lot of your building and parked his car at a visitor’s spot. After unbuckling his belt, he turned to you, fisting the back of your head. Your breath hitched in your throat, like you weren’t prepared for his close proximity. “Ask me, Y/N. Ask me how many women I’m fucking.” He waited for you to speak, to ask the question, but, instinctively, he knew you wouldn’t. “You’re not going to ask me, because the truth scares you.”

“Of course it scares me!” you snapped. “I have no idea if you’re using condoms with these other women, if you’re exposing me to god knows what.”

Your defensive tone meant he was getting close to the truth. His fingers started playing with your right ear. “If I’m only fucking you, and I only want you, then you can’t use me as an excuse to run from us anymore. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

Fear flashed across your face, all your emotions on display for him to read.

Billy leaned back and winked at you, smiling smugly. Jackpot.

Part 11

A/N - Thank you so much for your continued support! I hope you guys are still reading and enjoying the fic. As always, thank you for the likes, reblogs, the comments that I cherish so much and your asks/messages. If you’d like to be add/removed from the tag list, please drop me a note.

Tag List:

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Gif Credit: @bilyrusso

[purplebunniboy]

Retrograde Character Masterlist

I lied, here are all the characters. I’ll do in depth backstories later.

This probably isn't EVERY character but it's damn near close and just some basics about them that are totally subject to be altered or expanded upon later

---

Afton Family

Michael Frederick Afton/ Fritz Smith/ Mike Schmidt:

Thick curly brown hair, hazel green eyes, grey tshirt with rolled sleeves, tucked into jeans// scars along his face, torso, and arms

Born October 7th, 1969 to Sandra Schmidt and William Afton

The oldest of the Afton children

Loved baseball, got his first bat from Henry

Scar across his nose came from a fight, hand scars came from attempting to pry open Fredbear's mouth during the bite, arm scar came from encounter with the Nightmares, torso scar came from getting scooped, various other scars from animatronic encounters

Fox mask bully, Dayshift worker at Freddy Fazbear’s in 1987, Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals, Nightshift Security Guard at Freddy Fazbear’s in 1998

William David Afton:

Shiny dark hair, soft blue eyes that turned grey the first time he “died”, well-groomed and cared about his looks

Father of Michael, Elizabeth, and Cassidy Afton; Spouse of Sandra Afton

Co-owner of Fredbear’s Family Dinner, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria, Circus Baby’s Pizza World, Fazbear Robotics and Fazbear Entertainment inc.; Owner of Afton Robotics LLC

Cunning, charming, and extremely persuasive, could find out absolutely anything about anyone and use it against them to get what he wanted

Extremely theatrical and loved going over the top in performances, 

Loved robotics and excelled at crafting learning AI, but could never perfect it how he wanted

Drove himself mad with the idea of immortality and legacy

Absolutely hated being called Billy

Did love his kids, at least originally, he’s only Somewhat a heartless monster, but there’s something still beating in that chest of his

Cassandra “Sandra” Bella Schmidt:

Denim jumpsuit, dyed blonde hair, hazel green eyes

Mother of Michael, Elizabeth, and Cassidy Afton. Spouse of William Afton

Was a Broadway actress but left her career behind to marry William and raise her family

Very soft-spoken, only confident when she was on a stage under the spotlight

Had a beautiful singing voice and would often sing her children to sleep, especially if they woke up from night terrors

Elizabeth “Lizzie” Rose Afton:

Dark strawberry blonde hair curled into tight ringlets and pulled back into two ponytails with red ribbon ties, bright green eyes, often wore a lot bright colors

Born May 12th, 1979. Died February 1986

The youngest of the Afton children

Suspected of being the product of an affair as her looks did not resemble her father’s

Did whatever it took to get her way and was very cunning about how she went about doing that

Liked to sing with her mother and was very musically inclined

Evan “Ev” Afton:

Thick brown curls that often fell in front of bright green eyes, white collared shirt a large black tshirt with two white stripes across the chest

Born October 31st, 1975. Bitten by Fredbear October 31st, 1983. “Died” November 5th, 1983

The middle child of the Afton children

Was never the best at communicating with others, complained a lot, fought with his brother constantly at home

After witnessing Charlie’s unaliving, became traumatized and cried all the time

Had a large collection of stuffed animals but was usually carrying around at least one of the Fazbear Plushies

---

Emily Family

Henry Emily

Shoulder length hair always swept or pulled back out of his face, dirty overalls, hands are never clean

Father of Charlotte and Samuel Emily. Spouse of Donna Emily

Treated all the robots the same way he did his own children

Caring and understanding but had a short temper and lacked patience, especially when under a lot of stress

Extremely talented in robotics, excelling in them from an early age. He could make anything look lifelike and real.

Preferred the comfort of his garage workshop over really showing his face

Donna Fitzgerald:

Big and poofy dark hair, dark eyes, high-waisted acid-wash jeans, pink wool turtleneck

Mother of Charlotte and Samuel Emily. Spouse of Henry Emily.

Strong-willed and very loud about her opinions on things.

Very supportive of Henry’s passion with robotics even if the whole topic gave her headaches when she attempted to wrap her brain around the concept

Charlotte “Charlie” Emily:

Denim overalls decorated with marker drawings of flowers, green striped tshirt, green wrist band, untamable brown hair pulled into two high pigtails

Born June 26th, 1978. Died April 5th, 1983

The younger of the Emily children

Extremely empathetic and caring, always went out of her way to care for children smaller than her, wanting them to feel loved and accepted

She was never afraid to get dirty, she always colored outside of the lines on purpose, she wanted to do the daring and unexpected.

Carried around a porcelain doll that was styled like a black and white jester

Her robotic counterpart was the spitting image of the real one

Robotic Charlie was much more sensitive and much more analytical of the world around her

Samuel “Sammy” Jeremy Emily/ Jeremy Fitzgerald:

Born June 24th, 1970. Bitten by Mangle October 7th, 1987

The older of the Emily children

He was always a very gifted child, excelling in mathematics from a very young age, but hit gifted kid burnout by the time he hit highschool

Never had much of an interest in robotics

Patient and gentle, he preferred to keep to himself and would often seek out quiet places he could be alone

Jennifer “Aunt Jen/Jenny” Emily:

Older sister of Henry Emily

Always had an interest in robotics and passed her skills on to her baby brother

Fiercely loyal to family she would do anything she could to protect them and keep them happy, especially Henry since he was the only family she really had left

She was strong-willed, even in her younger years, and able to hold her own very well

---

Before the Bite

Michelle “Mitchie” Peters:

Spiky short brown hair, green t shirt, blue boy shorts, green sweatbands

Bear mask bully

Older sister to Gabriel Peters

Died July 4th,1985

Michael’s closest childhood friend

A tomboy, closet case, and had a major superiority complex or at least pretended to have one

Called the Mama Bear of the group due to her caring deeply for her friends but aggressiveness towards everyone else

David “Davie” Kennedy:

Wavy black hair, red polo shirt with a popped collar, blue bunny mask

Bigger kid and designated meat shield of the group.

Willing to defend his friends to his dying breath.

Inside, he had a soft core. He was the one who would check on each of them, asking if they were ok and if they needed help. His soft core often got him teased by his friends but it never stopped him from wanting to make sure they were always safe

Bunny mask bully, Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals

Christopher “Chris” Houghton:

Short curly dark hair, long sleeve blue shirt

Chicken mask bully

Never left the arcade, living that sweet gamer life

Liked to run his mouth and always needed to have the last word

Vanessa “Nessa/Ness” Abernathy

Dark hair, rainbow clip extensions, dark eyes

Born December 24th, 1970. 

Knew Michael in school, had a crush on him, he was the first one to ever call her Ness and the only one she ever let call her that

Took a robotics class because of him and also got really into coding

Influenced by William and eventually taken completely under his control. She was his eyes and ears in the outside world. Talks to him through the Spring Bonnie plush when non-possessed

Poses as Mike’s therapist to keep an eye on him for William

Matthew “Matt” Griffiths

Older man though no one was sure how old he actually is or if he can even die, choppy hair, thick rimmed glasses

Phone guy

Dayshift worker/ Training Manager at Fredbear’s Family Diner, General Manager of the first Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria

Loyal to the company but also put his own well being and safety before anyone else’s

Would not stick his neck out for anybody on his own

Blunt and standoffish, sometimes considered rude though he was never rude to customers or kids

One of Afton’s first “puppets”

---

Party of 1985

Susan “Susie” Waylar:

Messy golden blonde curls, blue eyes, pink shirt, bedazzled jeans

Older sister of Samantha Waylar

Best friends with Gabriel Peters

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Chica

Extremely energetic and always told she should settle and be quieter like her sister

Despite being super messy, constantly having gunk in her hair and under her nails, she had an unnatural ability to always keep her dresses clean

Gabriel “Gabe” Peters:

Straight light brown hair, striped shirt beneath denim overalls, missing front tooth

Younger brother of Mitchie Peters

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Freddy Fazbear

Stood up for the smaller kids whenever possible

Energetic, never able to settle, and outgoing. Impossible to ever see him not smiling

He was clumsy and always getting hurt accidently.

Best friends with Susie Waylar

Cassidy “Dee-Dee” Richards:

Dark hair always pulled into two uneven pigtails, always wearing yellow

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Golden Freddy

Pulled a lot of pranks, some lighthearted, some not so much.

Threw tantrums to get what she wanted.

Always wanting to be first, always wanting to come out ahead, always 

Jeremy Velasquez:

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Bonnie

A generally shy kid who’s loud and energetic around his friends

Started growing out of Freddy’s pretty early on

Susie felt bad for him and invited him to hang out with her and Gabe

Frederick “Fritz” Parker:

Messy auburn hair, pastel pink polo shirt

Died June 26th, 1985. Stuffed into Foxy

Aggressive and rude, rather abrasive and destructive

---

Party of 1987

Pete Dinglewood:

Brown hair, red letterman jacket, backwards baseball cap, prosthetic hand and glass eye after being hit by a car and barely surviving.

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Foxy

Older brother of Charles “Chuck” Dinglewood

Always sticking gum under the tables in the party rooms

Alec Wilkins:

Blonde curly rocker mullet, sci-fi movie shirt with cut off sleeves, braces

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Freddy

Older brother of Hazel Wilkins

Could be rude at times, always got himself into trouble and pinned with the “problem child” title

Toby Billings:

Fluffy brown hair, mullet, reminds Michael of Cass, pullover sweatshirt with an athletic team’s logo on the front, always putting stuff in his mouth

Died October 4th, 1987. Stuffed into Bonnie

Younger brother of Connor Billings

Wanted to have the highest scores in the arcade

Cracks his knuckles when he’s lying or when he’s nervous which most people will loudly say is gross and annoying

Millicent “Millie” Fitzsimmons:

Dyed black hair always teased and pinned on one side, always wears a lot of black and intense black makeup

Died October 4th, 1987, stuffed into Chica

Best friends with Alec

Lives alone with her grandfather, who is sometimes hired by Fazbear’s or Afton Robotics to fix any minor technical malfunctions with the animatronics

Was there during the grand opening event of Circuse Baby’s when Elizabeth was killed in 1986

---

Around Town

Connor Billings:

Brown hair, square face, very hyper and always laughing even if the joke isn’t funny

Phone dude

Older brother of Toby Billings

Became obsessed with the mysteries of the place after looking into the 1987 deaths more

Collected old remnants of the closed down restaurants.

Hired by Henry to find the stuff still haunted to put into Fazbear’s Frights, no questions asked

Lowkey scared of Michael saying, quote, “the guy just gives me bad vibes”

Samantha Waylar:

Older sister of Susie Waylar

Quieter, though who’s to say that equals maturity 

Preferred to keep to herself and her books

She knew how to stand up for herself and was actually better at telling kids off than her sister was

Swear she loved Oliver more

Stanley Martinez:

Technician at Circus Baby’s Pizza World and Party Rentals

Was into tech most of his life.

Known to be a generally kind man, putting others and their well being before himself

He was never one to snoop around and would prefer staying out of other’s business

Clayton “Clay” Burke:

Father of Carlton Burke. Spouse of Betty Burke

Chief of police. Was a detective when the 5 murders happened, worked on the case.

Though he is at times a little air headed, he is very caring of those around him

Carlton Burke:

Ginger hair, dark clothing

Only son of Carlton and Betty Burke

Childhood friends of Charlie, John, and Jessica

Always the kind to crack jokes when the mood was down and laugh in the face of danger.

Art and theatre kid

John Aowyn:

Messy brown hair, white shirt, brown leather jacket

Childhood friend of Charlie, John and Carlton. Had a crush on Charlie

He was a writer and constantly lost in his own fantasy world that sometimes it was hard to pull him out of

Jessica Sinclair:

Shiny light brown hair, brown doe-eyes, always clean cut, fashionable clothing, contagious smile

Childhood friend of Charlie, John and Carlton

Fiercely loyal to her friends, and would do anything to protect them. She hated seeing them sad or hurt and was always there with bandaids and snacks the moment they needed her

Very perceptive and smart, she had a love of forensics and her friends would often put on mystery hunts just for her

Leslie Dunn:

Round face, light hair, police uniform

Police officer/ Detective

A bit blunt at times though not with the intention of being rude

A bit awkward at times

Jack Flores:

Younger man, greasy hair, bright eyes

Nightshift Security Guard at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria

Overly curious, couldn’t keep his nose out of other’s business

[steebharringt0n]

sanctuary - part 3

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: fuck episode 8. i am so upset. thank god for fanfiction amirite? i was too emotionally distrought to think of a better ending for this chapter, but things start picking up next chapter - i will include what happened to billy in season 3 in this story, with some obvious tweaks.

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous

001. prologue 002. firestarter

---

003. spitfire

“Pick your poison”

You stared at the plastic menu in front of you, not entirely sure what any of these foods were. It’s not like they fed you burgers and fries over at the military base. The options were overwhelming to you. Pancakes, hot dogs, milkshakes … was any of this good?

“I - I don’t know what to get …”

Billy put down his menu and stared at you, taking in your features a lot better now that you both sat under the bright light of the diner. Your (Y/H/C) hair was messy, as if it hadn’t been washed in days. The bruises around face, especially the one near your cheek looked more colorful than before. Hues of purple and yellow contrasted against your (Y/S/C) skin. The dark bags under your eyes made it seem as if you hadn’t slept in days.

You hadn’t.

“What, you’ve never had a cheeseburger before?” he questioned incredulously. You shook your head, “No, I don’t even know what this pancake food is. Is it any good?”

Billy scoffed loudly, “You’re joking right?”

Your eyes shifted around, cocking your head to the side, “No Billy, why would I lie to you?” your voice spoke softly.

He was taken aback by your comment. His shoulders relaxed and a soft expression appeared on his face, “You’re right … I’m sorry. I’m kinda new to this whole being nice thing” he muttered. 

A loud noise coming from the back of the kitchen from the diner distracted the both of you from your conversation. A tall, lanky waitress with thin hair was sauntering over, her face looking very annoyed. Billy quickly lowered his head towards you, “Whatever you do, don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking” he hissed at you quickly.

You nodded solemnly. He was the only one that had helped you get this far - the least you could is follow his instructions.

The waitress then appeared to your table. Smacking her gum loudly, a notepad in her hand. She glanced over at you, then frowned, “Boy kid, what happened to your face?”

You stared at her blankly, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation which was strange because you always knew what to do in sticky situations. It usually resulted in someone getting hurt or dying though. This situation however, was different. You never really interacted with people outside of the men that usually monitored your every move, so social cues were hard for you to grasp, along with sarcasm and certain expressions. Your eyes slowly shifted to look at Billy, waiting for him to speak on your behalf. 

“Car accident. Nasty one. Just got out of the hospital so we’re celebrating, right?” he gave you a hard looking, pressing on the fact that he needed you to play along with his little game. So you did.

“Yup. Car accident” was all you said. 

“She’s gonna take the cheeseburger with fries, I’m just gonna have a chocolate milkshake” He quickly said, trying to divert the conversation back. The waitress quickly jotted the food down on her notepad. She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Billy let out a breath of air from his mouth, sinking back into his seat. “That was close. Nice playing along”

You nodded, fiddling with the large sleeve of your hoodie as silence settled between the two of you. You weren’t exactly the best at holding conversations, and neither was Billy. You mostly spoke when you were spoken to, and Billy just usually avoided people unless he was trying to get in someone’s pants.

“So uh,” he started, trying to break the awkwardness, “How did you uh, manage to make your way to this hellhole?”

You shrugged. “I killed a guy, stole his wallet, bought a plane ticket and walked the rest of my way here.” you spoke so nonchalantly it sent chills down his spine. The way you spoke about certain things had a sense of innocence to them, but the fact that you could easily kill the next person that walked in the diner almost terrified him. You stopped fiddling with your sleeve when you realized Billy was quiet.

“I’m not a monster you know” you quietly said, your eyes avoiding his blue ones. “I know I have these ... powers ... and I know I’ve used them to hurt people ... but I’m not a monster” your voice was full of emotion. Billy shifted in his seat, his lips pressed together, not sure how to respond to you. He knew what other people at school saw him as. 

A bully, an asshole, a womanizer.

But in reality, Billy was a broken man, misunderstood. Seeing you become vulnerable in front of him tugged at his heart strings - which surprised him since not many things could make him feel so emotional.

“What are you?” he quietly asked.

You shrugged again, “I know as much as you do. They kept me in the dark. I was used to kill important people, people who would get in the way of their plan”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, “Who’s they?”

“The Russians, sometimes they would lend me to other people - to kill you know? I’m assuming they probably got paid money for it. Brenner always told me I was their prized possession. I was trained for as long as I could remember, until I perfected my powers.”

Billy tensed up, his leg twitching under the table, “So what other powers do you have?”

“Just the fire stuff - plus I’m really strong” you grinned at him. From the way you were shaped there was no way anyone would know what you could snap a tree in half with your bare hands. 

“Yeah, I figured that much” he glanced down at his wrist, rotating it to make sure that it was still working. 

You pressed your lips together, your expression softening, feeling guilty that you had hurt him earlier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you … I just don’t - “

“- like being grabbed at … I get it. My old man can be hard on me sometimes” 

Your eyebrows etched together, “Old man? You have an old man?”

Billy let out a laugh, “It’s another expression. It’s my dad. He’s a piece of shit”

You noticed his face hardening at the mention of his dad, his whole body stiffening. Unsure how to comfort him, you hesitantly reached out and placed a hand over his, warmth emitting from your palm. He looked up at you, his face now softening at the mere touch of his hand. His blue eyes boring into your (E/C) eyes. There was that feeling again, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You brushed it off this time, wanting to make sure that he was okay. 

“Brenner is a piece of shit too. I understand”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Billy didn’t move his hand away, rather enjoying the warmth from your hand. Your touch was such a small gesture, but to Billy kindness was something he really didn’t get too much often. Not since his mom had left anyways.

The silence was broken by the waitress barging out of the kitchen. You quickly swiped your hand away from Billy - as if you were doing something inappropriate and didn’t want to get caught. She placed the cheeseburger in front of you, and the milkshake in front of Billy who murmured a thanks before she made her way back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, the smell of the beef and cheese hitting your nostrils. It was magnificent. You had never smelled anything so amazing before, your mouth was watering, your eyes were gleaming with excitement. Food was always given to you, but you were on a strict diet, to keep your body as fit as could be. But this? This was different. Billy watched you amusedly as he ripped open a straw and placed it in his milkshake.

“Well go on, take a bite” he urged.

Your hands picked up the large burger and you took a bite. Your eyes widened, the different flavors hitting your tongue, your taste buds were on fire. You closed your eyes, relishing the taste in your mouth, chewing ever so slowly so that you could taste every ingredient. 

“Oh my god” you moaned. Billy couldn’t help but grin at you, it was like watching a little kid eat a burger for the first time.

“This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted in my whole life!” you exclaimed, taking another large bite.

“You should try the fries - with ketchup” he advised, taking a sip of his milkshake.

He reached over to the end of the booth and grabbed the red bottle at the end. He leaned over and drizzled ketchup over your fries, quickly taking a fry with him but you didn’t mind. You picked up a fry and placed it in your mouth. Another loud moan came from you, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head.

“Billy. This is amazing, this has been the best day of my life” you spoke with food in your mouth but he didn’t care, he was too amused at all your reactions.

Billy glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11 pm. Shit, it was getting late.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick. Stay put, don’t destroy anything” he jokingly added. You were too engrossed in your burger to give him any real attention, so you just waved him off as he quickly rose up and made his way to the back of the diner. He turned the corner and walked over to the payphone that was next to the bathrooms. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that you weren’t following him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Wheeler’s number, dialing it quickly as he held the phone between his head and shoulders.

A soft voice answered the phone, “Wheeler residence”

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler it’s Billy”

Her voice suddenly went up a couple of octaves, “Billy! Hello! Calling so late, is everything okay?”

Billy shuffled his feet, “Yeah, um, is Nancy there? I need to ask her about an assignment”

There was a momentary pause on the other side. Billy heard shuffling and voices, “Yes, she’s here, - Nance! Hey Nance! Billy’s on the phone for you!”

Billy heard the phone being passed off. Mrs. Wheeler’s soft voice was replaced by Nancy’s nervous one. “Hi, Billy?”

“Wheeler. I’m gonna make this quick. I need your help.”

There was another pause, and then more shuffling. “Hey mom, I’m gonna take this phone call upstairs” Nancy announced to her mother. Billy heard the thudding of footsteps as Nancy made her way into her bedroom.

“Hargrove, what the hell do you want?” her voice suddenly became cold.

“One of Eleven’s buddies is here and I can’t watch her” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“What? Her buddies? What do you mean?”

“Wheeler, I need to bring her to your house. She can’t stay at mine” he pressed on.

“Hargrove, what the hell are you talking about?!” she questioned hotly.

“I can’t explain right now, I don’t have time, but I need to come over.” His foot was twitching at this point.

He felt Nancy’s hesitation, but she finally responded. “Okay, okay. Um, meet me by my back gate in 15 minutes”

“Deal”

He hung up the phone. He was making his way back to the booth when he caught a certain red car out of the corner of his eye. His face blanched and he felt his stomach drop when he realized who’s car that was.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck” 

He turned the corner and saw Tommy H. with Alex M. towering over you. You looked small, cowering in the booth. They both were laughing loudly, picking and eating the large fries that were sitting in front of you.

You looked up from the table and made eye contact with Billy, the look in your eyes were pleading for him to stop this.

“Tommy, Alex, what the hell are you guys doing here?” Billy’s voice was low, rough.

Tommy and Alex stopped laughing and turned to their attention to the familiar voice behind them. Billy hated dealing with those 2, along with Carol. They were the bane of his existence - and yet they followed him around like a lost puppy dog.

“Hargrove! I didn’t know you liked to screw around with fucked up chicks!” Tommy exclaimed, glancing back at your cowered frame. The words stung, but you remained quiet, letting Billy take over the situation. “We spotted your car so we knew we had to stop in”

“You guys need leave now” his voice was terrifying low now. Anger was starting to set in and you could hear it in his voice.

Alex let out a nervous laugh, “Hargrove, c’mon, it’s us. We just want to know who your little friend is” Alex walked over and patted Billy on his shoulder. Billy just stared at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like is she good in the sack? Does she give good head?” Tommy quickly added, reaching down and taking another fry, staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

Your hand twitched from under the table. Your temper rising.

Not a monster, not a monster, not a monster

You repeated that mantra in your head.

Billy stared at his friend, his mouth set in a hard line. Although you had no idea what ‘in the sack’ or ‘give good head’ meant, you knew it had some sort of sexual connotation with it with the way they were eyeing you up and down. If Billy Hargrove had fucked her - odds are she was a good fuck and they wanted a taste.

Tommy looked down at you again, “I’d give her an 7, maybe an 8 if she didn’t looked so fucked up” he sneered.

Billy could hear the muscles in your jaw crack as you clenched your jaw. Your expression hardening as Tommy casually reached his hand down again to grab another fry.

Game over

But before his fingers could even touch a fry, you quickly grabbed his wrist, slamming his hand down on the table so hard you could hear the joints in his hand. Tommy wailed in pain, his eyes widening so hard it looked like it was going to bulge out of his face. You stood up from your seat, keeping his hand pinned to the table. 

“Call me fucked up one. more. time”  you hissed at him, your jaw set as you stared at him. You maintained eye contact with him as he whimpered in pain. You could feel the table starting to crack as you pressed down harder. Tommy’s face twisted in agony, his mouth letting out a loud scream.

Your palm started to feel hot, you were so close to burning his hand off when Billy quickly ran over and yanked you away by your arm. Tommy collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed his hand to his chest. Alex ran over to his friend, picking him up from the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spoke to you through gritted teeth. You snatched away your arm from his grip. But before you could give him an answer  the waitress suddenly came barging through, her eyes scanning the scene.

“All of you! Out of here!” she yelled at the four of you.

Billy walked around his two friends, reaching into his pocket and slamming a twenty dollar bill next to your plate. He grabbed your hand, leading you outside to his car without saying a word.

He quickly ushered you in his car, making his way around to the driver’s side and opening up the door. He quickly sat down and started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot so quickly it made your head spin. 

“You can’t fucking pull shit like that! What the hell were you thinking?!” he screamed at you, reaching for his pack of cigarettes in his center console.

“I was defending myself! I wasn’t going to let him speak to me like that” you retorted back.

“Yeah? By breaking his hand?! Real fucking smart!”

“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you!”

You were breathing heavily, your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. But you were so angry, incredibly angry. How dare he question your right to defend yourself. Billy reached for his zippo lighter and flicked it open, trying to light it but was unsucessful. He angrily chucked it by his feet, feeling frustrated. You instinctivly reached over and snapped your fingers, emitting a flame from your hand.

Billy looked over at you. Your nostrils flaring and your eyes burning with anger. but yet you still had the kindness in you to help light his cigarette. 

You were spitfire and crazy. Bruised and broken. Just like him. 

He had never had someone - let alone a girl - speak to him to the way you just did. But it made you all the more interesting to him. Although he would have never admitted it at the moment but seeing Tommy H cry like a baby almost made him want to smile.

He leaned over to the flame, cigarette in his mouth. It quickly lit and he took a deep inhale.

You let the flame disappear from your hand. Crossing your arms, a scowl on your face as you both drove towards the Wheeler residence in silence.

[harringrovehouse]

Billy finds out about the Upside Down in May of 1985.

He’s with Trish Coopernan at ‘Lover’s Lake’. They’re writhing around in the Camaro’s back seat, Billy’s hand shoved under her neon pink sweater, and her hand shoved down his pants as they french. He wouldn’t have even noticed anything other than Trish’s talons on his junk if Max’s name didn’t echo around him. His head slams into the ceiling of the Camaro and he swears, pushing away from Trish to glare out at the trees around him. It’s 11am, on a fucking Tuesday. He doesn’t give one single fuck about the ‘promise’ he made to Max. If she’s out here, at fucking ‘Lover’s Lake’ with that Sinclair kid instead of in her fucking science class, Billy is going to kill them both. 

Trish whines at him as he scans the tree-line, looking for a hint of red. Once he finds her he’s going to drag her ass back to school by the braids she instead Susan do for her and make sure she knows to stay put. He hasn’t decided what to do with Sinclair yet. 

A thick bundle of branches about 20 feet away bursts open and out comes Max. She’s got blood on her knee and her shirt looks like it’s been ripped in a few places. She looks like she’s been crying, her face is pale and her eyes are red. She’s doesn’t seem to see the Camaro, but she is searching for something, her head whipping back and forth. Billy feels his blood boil slightly. Okay, he was going to drown Sinclair when he caught him. Angrily he climbs back into the driver’s seat, tucking his junk back in and fixing his shirt, eyes locked on Max as she pants for air. Behind him Trish clambers up to the front seat, she’s also looking at Max with a concerned look on her face. 

“Isn’t that your sister?” She asks as she pulls her skirt back up, Billy grunts in repose and throws his door open.

“She’s not my sister. Stay here.” He takes off at a run. Max is just far enough away that he has to make up the distance.

Billy’s less than 10 feet from her when the trees move again, and out tumbles Steve Fucking Harrington. He grabs Max, scaring her enough that she screams before he starts to pull her back into the trees. Billy can’t see Max’s face but she doesn’t seem to want to go, she trips over her own feet and Harrington has to lift her back up before he takes off with her. 

“Hey!” Billy screams. “Harrington!” No way is he about to let whatever the fuck is happening right now happen. He’s going to finish what he started in October and destroy Harrington. “Harrington you sick fuck!” Billy yells as he forces his way through the branches. Who knew, King Steve, the man everyone at Hawkins high looked up too, was a fucking pervert. A sick fuck who trapped little girls in the woods. Billy wonders if the whole town knows, if all those kids hanging around Harrington have been dragged into these woods. The thought makes him want to throw up, he’s a lot of things, but he doesn’t fuck with child rapists. 

“Max!” The scream is followed by another one of Max’s high pitched screams. Billy turns toward the sound and takes off. 

He’s making a lot of noise, breaking branches as he races towards the sounds of voices. Tiny droplets of blood hit the forest floor as the jagged ends of the branches slice his arms and neck. There’s another scream and then the sound of something making contact with flesh, and then silence. Billy feels his heart pick up. The image of an unconscious Max laid out on the ground, bleeding and broken while King Steve stands over her flashes in his mind and Billy’s vision blurs for a second. 

He stops just long enough to pick up a thick branch, it’s heavy enough that Billy thinks he could kill a man with it. He plans too. New weapon in hand he shoulders his way through the last of the trees, a stray branch slicing his arm open and stomps his way into the most disgusting clearing he’s ever see.

The trees are rotting where they stand, huge chucks of bark have fallen off and black puss leaks from the wounds they’ve left behind. It smells like raw sewage, and death. Billy gapes at the sight. It’s horrifying and in the center of the clearing, surrounding by the dead beaten bodies of some animal Billy can’t make out are Max and Steve.

They both look like shit. Max is still bleeding from her knee, and Harrington’s got a nasty cut on his shoulder where his shirt sleeve is ripped and the fabric is stained with blood. Harrington’s got his arm wrapped around Max, that same nail covered baseball bat in his hands as he swings her away from Billy. Putting himself between Max and whatever just entered the clearing. Protecting her from the new danger.

There’s a silent, eerie beat as he and Harrington take each other in. Billy’s hand clenched tightly on the branch and Steve brandishing his bat like a pro. 

“Hargrove?”

“Billy?”

Max and Steve shout at the exact same time. It echoes once, and then dies. Billy wonders if this clearing is cursed. If every, and all sign of life dies here.

“Billy you need to leave!” Max says as she shoves Harrington away from her, no longer afraid of Billy. Especially not with the crowbar she’s got in her hands. Had that always been there, Billy isn’t sure anymore.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tries to put as much venom behind his words as he can but they still come out shaky. Max rolls her eyes and waves the crowbar at him. “Why the fuck are you in the damn woods with my sister Harrington!”

Max steps closer. “Billy!”

“Whatever sick game this is ends now Max!”

“Billy listen!”

“No! No fuck no. You’re fucking coming with me and we’re getting out of this fucked up town.”

“Billy shut up and listen t-“

A screech echos behind him. It sends shiver up Billy’s spine. He goes for Max’s arm, grabs her tight and starts to drag her away. Max’s fights him but Billy’s grabs the crowbar from her hands and gives her a shake. “We’re leaving Maxine!”

“Billy! You’re going the wrong way asshole!” Max screams but Billy doesn’t listen. He’s taking Max home and they’re leaving this fucking town, he’ll drive the kid all the back to California if he has too. 

To his left a bush shakes and Max freezes, eye wide in terror. She starts begging for the crowbar back, tugging at Billy’s hand and yelling for Harrington. Who comes running, bat in hand and eyes hard. Billy stares between them, ready to start shouting at both of them before the bush rips open and a monster jumps out. An actual monster. It’s face opens and then it screams, it screams in Billy’s face and then Steve swings. There’s a sickening sound and the creature recoils. Harrington starts to bash the things head in, what can only be blood splatters across the ground and whatever green is there dies almost instantly.

“Run!” Steve scream, turning to Max and Billy. Billy mouths at him, eyes wide as he stares down at the thing that Steve has just killed. “Billy lets go!” And then Steve’s grabbing his hand and hauling him across the black clearing back into the woods, Max clings to Steve’s other hand and suddenly they’re running straight into two of the other kids Max hangs out with. 

“Steve!” They scream as they almost collide with them. Billy stares at them in horror, they also look like they’d been beaten up. The one with the curls has a black eye and the one Billy is pretty sure is related to Nancy Wheeler has a huge gash over his left eye. “Max!” They scream and Max rushes forward to hug them.

“I told you to stay in the car!” Steve snaps at them, dropping Billy’s hand and rushing forward. Billy watches as he goes to shakesthem but ends up wrapping himself around the three of them and sighing. “Next time stay in the car you shit heads.” 

“What. The. Fuck. Is happening Harrington!” Billy hears himself say. The four of them turn around to stare at him. 

“Billy Hargrove?” Probably Nancy’s brother says and Billy gives him a look. Steve turns to him and they stare at each other, clearly Steve’s at a lose for words. His eyes flick down to the crowbar, and Billy sees him tighten his grip on the bat. 

“Woah there cowboy.” Billy says dropping the crowbar, which Max rushes forward to grab. “Not looking to fight.” He lifts his hands up to prove he isn’t a danger. “But you have to level with me here, what happened back there, they,” He motions at the kids. “You all look like you’ve just been to hell and back.” 

“We kinda have asshole!” Curly says, it might have impressed Billy if he wasn’t hiding behind Max like a scared little kid. 

Steve shakes his head and shoves the curly one behind him. “Look there’s something about Hawkins you don’t know.”

“Steve.” The kids hiss at him but Steve holds his hand up at them, eyes hard. 

“We tell him. He saw-“

“The last time you tried to tell him he kicked your face in!”

“I didn’t kick his face in!” Billy snaps. “I punched his face in.” He tries to look like that doesn’t bother him, like the idea of losing control like that again doesn’t frighten the shit out of him but it does. Harrington gives him a look.

“Yeah last time he didn’t seem ready to listen, but he’s seen them now. He’ll listen.” Harrington is looking into Billy’s fucking soul. Billy looks away first and he can practically hear Harrington smirk.

Harrington begins to tell him a story. It starts a year ago with Will Byers going missing and Barbra Holland dying, about Harrington finding out about the monsters because he thought his girlfriend was cheating on him and then Jonathon Byers kicked his ass and he showed up at the Byers’ house to say sorry only to find Wheeler and Byers armed to the teeth and a fucking demon crawling it’s way from the walls. Harrington talks about how the Chief of Police and Mrs.Byers went to another dimension and saved Will Byers, and how everyone thought it was over only Will started having visions and then Dustin Henderson, Curly, found a baby demon in his trash and kept it. Which lead to a full out demon versus Harrington and friends fight. Which ended in the gate collapsing and Will Byers being freed from being possessed. 

Billy stands there and takes it all in. He remembers arriving to the Byers house in November of last year, seeing red When Harrington lied about Max. Bursting inside to see the fucking mess the house was, broken glass and drawings of something all over the walls. Had Harrington been trying to explain all this crazy to him that night?

“Listen man-“ 

If Billy hadn’t punched first would he have been told this same bat shit crazy story or would Harrington have thought of another lie. He was still struggling to figure out if that mattered when Harrington spoke again.

“None of that matter now because we have to get to Hop and tell him what’s happening! We were getting ready to go camping when we saw the demodogs. My cars all the way on the other side of the clearing. We sent Lucas and Will to flag someone down and head to Hop but it’s not safe to be here right now, we have to leave.”  Billy knows they won’t make it all the way across to Harrington’s car. But maybe they can make it to his. 

“Give me that back.” He snaps at Max, yanking the crowbar from her grip. “Okay shit heads listen up! I’m going to lead us back to my car, we’re all getting in and we’re going to leave understand! Harrington you’re in back, Max behind me no don’t fucking argue behind me right now! Wheeler, Curls fall in line!”

There’s arguments but surprisingly everyone seems to listen, and then they’re off looking like a freak show as they wind their way back through the dead clearing where the many bodies of the demodogs lay bloody and unmoving. Billy tightens his grip on the crowbar as they approach the thick bundle of trees he and Max had forced their way through earlier. He puts out a hand and listens, everyone stopping being him. They wait a beat before Billy decides it’s okay to move again, he swings the crowbar and break the branches so they can walk without hurting themselves more. 

The sound makes him cringe but if what Steve says it true blood attracts this thing, the last thing they need is to bleed more. A bird shakes the trees in front of them and Curly screams, Billy’s whole body tense up as he tries not to swing at it. Letting the white creature fly off into the heavens. He watches it go with a sour look on his face, how is anything alive so close to that cursed clearing. He grabs Max’s arm and hauls her up a small cliff drop he hadn’t noticed earlier, ignoring the huff she lets out at being lifted off the ground by him. He sets her back easily and waits for the other three to catch up.

To his horror he watches as Harrington sets the bat down to help Wheeler and Curly up , Wheeler’s about as athletic as a new born blob fish apparently. Harrington hands Billy the bat and then hauls himself up next to Billy, who gives him the bat back the second his feet his the ground. 

“Plant your feet.” Billy tells him without the venom he used to have. Harrington actually smirks at him before taking the bat and ushering the kids back into formation. Billy takes the front of the line again, ready to bash some monster brains. He can see the edge of Lover’s Lake now, can make out the loud sound of his radio blasting Van Halen. They’re almost home free.

Something bursts free from the bushes in front of them, Harrington is at his side in seconds as they face down yet another demodog. This one looks different than the others. Bigger, almost older. Billy tightens his grips and swings just as the creature launches itself at them. He ends up missing it, but manages to stab it’s belly. The sound it lets out makes Billy’s ears ache. 

“Hold it down!” Harrington screams as he rushes forwards, boot flying out to kick the demodog in the side and his bat swing down. Billy waits just long enough for it to become distracted by Harrington bashing it’s head in before he twists the crowbar and yanks it out. 

The demodog screeches, it’s huge mouth opening wide as Harrington rains down on it. Billy straightens and joins Harrington in bashing the creatures skull in. Watching as it finally gives up and dies. 

“Lets go!” Harrington says, turning to the kids and grabbing Billy’s shaking wrist. The five of them break through the brush line and make a wild dash towards Billy’s Camaro. 

Trish is nowhere to be seen. Billy swears and calls out her name, hoping maybe she just needed to pee or something! But silence.

“Fuck! Trish!” Harrington calls out, shoving the kids into the car. “Trish it’s me Steve!!” And Billy’s reminded that Steve used to be the King of Hawkins. Billy goes to open the driver’s side, and find the handle is covering in blood. Billy turns to Harrington, lifting his hand into the air and they share a look, this isn’t good.”

“Get in.” Harrington says and he throws Billy’s passenger’s side seat back, climbing in himself and yelling at the kids to shut up! Billy doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s in the driver’s seat in seconds.

“Hold on.” He snaps at them, turning the car on and peeling out of the small parking lot. 

Behind them the trees rustle. Billy rips his eyes away from them before whatever is there can exit, he tightens his grip and focus on the road. Next to him Harrington whips around, eyes now locked on the road and hand coming up to grip Billy’s arm. It’s a heavy weight that Billy decides to ignore, for now. Maybe this town isn’t such a shithole after all.

[doomedandstoned]

THE ROADBURN DIARIES

~By Willem Verhappen~

Photographs by Sally Townsend

Preface

When Billy asked me to review Roadburn Festival 2019 for Doomed & Stoned, I was a bit hesitant. Live reviews have never been my specialty and I prefer to enjoy shows instead of being critical. However, when he suggested a diary-style review, I got the idea to do just that; write a diary.

I went all out and paid a whopping two Euros and some change to buy a notebook. After four days of Roadburn, it will probably be as wrecked as I expect to be, but hopefully it will still be readable. [In hindsight it was money well spent, as the notebook survived Roadburn without too much damage.] Whether its pages will be literary gold or the drunken ravings of a madman, only time will tell. The truth will probably be somewhere in the middle. [The fact that I had not been feeling well all week and decided to drive to Tilburg by car each day probably helped me not fucking this up, though.]

Day 1

14:30 -- Ticket booth

The sun is out, Crypt Trip's Haze County was blasting through my car speakers on the way here and the queue to get my wristband went smooth. That's about as good a start as it can get. Sadly, my first dilemma of the day is already coming up: See Myrkur perform her Folkesange set or Bismuth. For now I'll just sit and wait in the sun for my friends T and S to arrive.

Tanya Byrne of Bismuth

16:30 -- Studio Tilburg

We compromised. We started Roadburn with Bismuth engulfing us in the epic 'The Slow Dying Of The Great Barrier Reef' in the Hall of Fame. Sadly the band had some technical issues which fucked up the dynamics in the beginning, but otherwise it was an intense experience.

before the end of the Bismuth set, we moved on to the main stage. On the way there, we ran into some friends who decided to join us to see Myrkur. The Scandinavian folk songs were moving and well performed, but not what we needed, so we set our sights for Vile Creature, who were preparing to destroy the Patronaat.

Vic of Vile Creature

Arriving outside, we noticed that we weren't the only ones. The queue to the Patronaat was leading pretty much up to the Cul de Sac. Since the weather was still nice, we decided to go for a beer in the sun instead.

19:05 -- Veemarktstraat

Molasses was something I had been looking forward to, since it was for a large part a The Devil's Blood reunion. Their set was in general an honest and loving tribute to TDB leader Selim Lemouchi. At some points though, the band seemed possessed by Selim himself. I desperately hope they will release this as a live record. [Later, at the merch I discovered that the band had already recorded an EP. That satisfies me for now, but I still need a live record!]

Farida Lemouchi of Molasses

After that intense show, it was time to get some food. I decided to go for some Vietnamese street food. A good choice, but I should have been more careful with the sambal. I love that stuff, but a full bite at once was a bit much.

19:30 -- Green Room balcony

Luckily, I was just in time to hear the last, hauntingly beautiful song of Lingua Ignota. I had a hard time getting in and when I managed to get in, I couldn't get closer than the back of the balcony. Only when the show was over, I could see that she sat behind her keyboard in the middle of the Green Room. An eccentric choice that befits the woman.

Kristen Hayter of Lingua Ignota

21:20 -- Ladybird Skatepark

Emma Ruth Rundle was more Doomed & Stoned appropriate than I expected. Last time she did a solo show, but this time she brought her full band. Her songs were sometimes dark and doomy, sometimes rocking, but always unique.

Emma Ruth Rundle

But the best kept secret of today are certainly the heavy psych astronauts of Mythic Sunship. Even though it's not crowded, they know how to throw a party on a skatepark. [Mythic Sunship was the first band to be programmed on the Skatepark, but during the weekend more bands were scheduled to perform on this special location. More on that later.]

22:45 -- Koepelhal

I'm not sure why a band like Midnight is performing at Roadburn, since it's pretty much the odd one out this year, but I'm not complaining. I really enjoyed their filthy, sexually laden mix of Venom and Motörhead sleaze. And judging from the large crowd that gathered in the Koepelhal, I wasn't the only one.

00:40 -- Main Stage

Post rock is a hit or miss for me, but the combination of guitars and classical instruments often brings a smile to my face. The latter convinced me to watch MONO perform their Hymn to the Immortal Wind record, supported by the Jo Quail Quartet. I'm happy I did this, since the show was pure aural bliss. Rarely have I heard such a natural mix of metallic guitars and classical instruments. Although it certainly wasn't boring, the floating melodies did make me a bit sleepy.

2:xx -- Eindhoven

I guess I went full circle today. I started with Crypt Trip and ended with them as well. After MONO, these Texan rockers were exactly what I needed. Their country infused hard rock really got my energy levels back to par. Then again, anyone who can stand still during a Crypt Trip show, must be dead. It was also very nice to see my Doomed & Stoned colleague Calvin again. Roadburn is off to a good start.

Day 2

15:25 -- 013

T, S and I started our second day at Roadburn queuing up for Gold. I lost sight of the Dutch band after being disappointed by their second record, when they traded in their occult rock for a more post rock sound. Today, however, I was not disappointed at all. Their pounding post black/punk/rock really grabbed me by the balls. Charismatic frontwoman Milena Eva and her accomplices are back on my radar.

I'm currently enjoying one of the three sets of Seven That Spells. Between all the avant garde stuff, it's nice to see some proper heavy psych/stoner rock. Very well executed!

Milena Eva of Gold

17:00 -- Ladybird Skatepark

Between all the good stuff, Triptykon was my most anticipated concert of the festival. As I said, I'm a sucker for metal mixed with classical music, so I wouldn't want to miss the Swiss band performing with the renowned Metropole Orkest, the world's leading pop orchestra. Today they are playing something heavier, namely the requiem penned by Tom G. Warrior. The first and third parts date back to the Celtic Frost days, namely Into The Pandemonium (1987) and Monotheist (2006). The piece never had a middle section, until now.

Tom Gabriel Warrior and Vanja Slajh of Triptykon

The show wasn't perfect. There were some flaws here and there and at certain moments it felt like the orchestra was overtaking the band. Altogether it was an impressive performance, but somewhere I feel like there could have been more. Still a highlight, though.

I'm currently enjoying some surprise sludgy goodness of Vile Creature, while the queue for the Hall of Fame is reaching new lengths while A.A.Williams is performing there as part of the Holy Roar x Roadburn showcase.

19:55 -- Studio Tilburg

After getting my eardrums destroyed by Vile Creature, it was time for a beer with friends. Consequently, that meant I missed Conjurer, but I did manage to see the last half hour of Anna Von Hausswolff on the main stage. On record I find her music very calming, but live the tiny lady and her band deliver a massive tidal wave of sound. 'The Mysterious Vanishing of Electra' was even more impressive than on record.

22:20 - Koepelhal

After enjoying watching Calvin struggle with a massive burger from the Studio café and between the neck snapping sets of Svalbard and Pijn (both part of the Holy Roar showcase), I conquered my first queue at the Koepelhal. This was for the collaboration between artist in residence Thou and Emma Ruth Rundle. It was well worth the effort. This noisy matrimony sounded exactly as you'd expect from the two factors.

Bryan Funck of Thou

3:xx -- Eindhoven

After Pijn's set, it was straight off to the Patronaat to grab a good spot for another show I highly anticipated. That turned out to be a good decision, since I heard afterwards that the queue for Messa turned out to be huge.

My love for these Italians stems from their ability to make old school doom sound fresh again. The band manages this through the incorporations of jazz elements, as well as sporadic black metal outbursts. Today, the band brought along a saxophone player, which truly added an extra dimension to their music.

Day 3

17:20 -- 013

Today we started off with Have A Nice Life. The new wave was enjoyable, but we had other priorities, for Wolvennest was about to perform their latest effort, Void, in its entirety. The Belgian band went all out for this show, bringing several guest musicians, as well as brand new visuals. Musically, Wolvennest definitely made a step up from their debut, WLVNNST. Their black metal with psychedelic and doom influences pleased the many people who came to witness this ritual. The only negative comment one could have, is that the altar looked very small on the large main stage.

Henrik Palm is no stranger to most Roadburners. The Swede used to be a member of In Solitude and Ghost. You can clearly hear this in his solo work, but his eclectic rockers always feel unique. I remain with only one question. Why the early Judas Priest videos?

19:20 -- Ladybird Skatepark

I'm not much of a fan of most of the bands from the Exile on Mainstream roster, but Treedeon I had to see. These Germans make for some noisy, primitive doom, which is right up my alley. There are some clear Conan vibes here, but the double vocals make it just a tad more brutal.

23:15 -- Koepelhal

I always enjoy good times with good people, so I was happy to join a small Doomed & Stoned meetup with Calvin and Sally [whose photos add some color to this article]. Contrary to my instincts, I left my friends behind to make it in time for what is probably the highlight of this year’s Roadburn. Coming near the 013 was like walking into a coffee shop (the Dutch kind), with the smell of weed greeting you from far away. Not surprising, since it wouldn't be long before the almighty Sleep would perform their classic record Holy Mountain in one go. When I arrived, some 20 odd minutes before the show, the hall was already crowded, with people queuing up, not more than five minutes later.

It was quite the magical experience to hear one of my all-time favorite records being performed live. The first notes of 'Dragonaut' already gave me goosebumps and headbanging became a priority for nearly two hours. Sleep performing 'The Clarity' and a part of 'Dopesmoker' surely was an extra treat.

Al Cisneros of Sleep

4:xx -- Eindhoven

Doolhof was a typical case of the right band at wrong time. The drone outfit, with Aaron Turner of Old Man Gloom and Sumac fame in its ranks, sounded highly intense and mesmerizing, but after Sleep, I was looking for something more energetic.

Luckily, I received a push message after the Sleep show, saying that Thou would perform a special set at the Skatepark. There had been rumours that the band would perform a set of Misfits covers somewhere during the weekend and this was it. A couple hundred people had shown up and the band was going through classics like 'Die, Die My Darling' and 'Hybrid Moments' like the audience was going through beers.

This set was absolute mayhem with the crowd moving as one mass and there was pretty much constant crowd surfing. The band was joined by Emma Ruth Rundle on a couple of songs, and for their final song, 'Last Caress', they were joined by Converge/Old Man Gloom's Nate Newton and Gilead Media chief Adam Bartlett. The former even went stage diving. If anyone was doubting why Thou is the artist in residence this year, they get it now.

Recharged by the insane show I had just witnessed, it was time for some after-partying in the basement of the 013 until the lights came on.

Day 4

Up until a few years ago the Roadburn Sunday was more of an after party, or Afterburner as it was called, but in recent years it changed into a full day. This year, all stages but the Koepelhal have bands playing, but thankfully my schedule is far less busy than the previous days.

17:30 - Main Stage

The intensity of three days of Roadburn appears to have had an effect not only on me, but on most of the visitors. That's why T and I decided to take it easy. This meant we missed Lucy in Blue because we arrived in Tilburg at 3pm. Since for the first time this weekend, temperatures reached comfortable levels, we decided to enjoy the sun a little before diving into another day of musical adventure.

my first band of the day was Supersonic Blues, a last minute addition to the program. The young band from The Hague had the honor to play the now infamous Ladybird Skatepark. Their heavy blues rock wasn't that special, but it surely was a welcome energizer for the rest of the day.

The first highlight of the day was TankZilla, a newcomer from my hometown Eindhoven, who got to warm up the Hall of Fame. Even though this was their second gig ever, the two members are anything but new to the scene. Singer/guitar player Peter van Elderen has enjoyed success for over twenty years with Peter Pan Speedrock, but also has more stoner credits with bands like Repomen and Four Headed Dog and drummer Marcin Hurkmans is known for his work with rockers Wolfskop. Although there's just two guys on stage, they manage to produce some fat-sounding stoner rock with the signature riffs and lyrics of van Elderen. Today saw the release of their first 7", but this show leaves me hungry for more!

20:45 -- 013 Lobby

With an hour to kill, I decided to walk to the 013 to check out a few songs from today's Thou set. Even though it was their fourth set this weekend, the main stage was packed with people wanting to see the artist in residence one more time. And rightfully so. Even after four days of playing, the last time being only 16 hours before, the band played another energetic set of nasty doom.

Mitch Wells of Thou

This made it somewhat difficult for me to leave early, but I had been looking forward to my second chance of seeing Bismuth ever since it was announced this morning. The Skatepark has become my favorite venue and the acoustics are perfect for the intensity of "The Slow Dying of the Great Barrier Reef". This time not troubled by technical difficulties, the UK duo's perfect performance of 'The Slow Dying of the Great Barrier Reef' is one of my absolute highlights of the festival.

Fuel is important on days like these, so I decided to skip the beginning of Old Man Gloom to grab a delicious pancake filled with spinach and goats cheese, walnuts and honey. By the time I reach the crowded main stage, the OMG set is almost over, but judging from the enthusiastic crowd, the New Mexico sludge machine managed to deliver.

Aaron Turner of Old Man Gloom

2:xx -- Eindhoven

Roadburn is over, but not before we were treated to another two-hour set of Sleep. This time the sonic titans performed their most recent effort, The Sciences, in its entirety, with the addition of "Leagues Beneath", "Dragonaut" and another section of "Dopesmoker". Sadly, the band was troubled by technical difficulties, to the great annoyance of Matt Pike, who even had to switch amps mid-set. This prevented the show from being the legendary event it could have been.

Matt Pike of Sleep

After Sleep, the time had come to slowly start Brexiting (saying you are leaving, but staying as long as you can).Saying goodbye to friends, both old and new, is always difficult, but it was fun to hear all the great stories everyone lived this weekend and see the joy in everyone's tired eyes. And just like Great Britain, we stayed until we were kicked out, leaving Tilburg behind with many new memories.

☀

[libraryofwar]

THE UNTOLD TRUE STORY OF MAD DOG SHRIVER: 

Mad Dog led dozens of covert missions into Laos & Cambodia until his luck ran out. By Maj. John L. Plaster, USAR (Ret.) 

There undoubtedly was not a single recon man in SOG more accomplished or renowned than Mad Dog Shriver. Mad Dog! In the late 1960s, no Special Forces trooper at Ft. Bragg even breathed those top-secret letters, "S-O-G," but everyone had heard of the legendary Studies and Observations Group Green Beret recon team leader, Sergeant First Class Jerry Shriver, dubbed a "mad dog" by Radio Hanoi.

It was Jerry Shriver who'd spoken the most famous rejoinder in SOG history, radioing his superiors not to worry that NVA forces had encircled his tiny team. "No, no," he explained, "I've got 'em right where I want 'em — surrounded from the inside." Fully decked out, Mad Dog was a walking arsenal with an imposing array of a sawed-off shotgun or suppressed submachine gun, pistols, knives, and grenades. 

"He looked like Rambo," First Sergeant Billy Greenwood thought. Blond, tall and thin, Shriver’s face bore chiseled features around piercing blue eyes. "There was no soul in the eyes, no emotion," thought SOG Captain Bill O’Rourke. "They were just eyes." By early 1969, Shriver was well into his third continuous year in SOG, leading top secret intelligence gathering teams deep into the enemy’s clandestine Cambodian sanctuaries where he’d teased death scores of times. 

Unknown to him, however, forces beyond his control at the highest levels of government in Hanoi and Washington were steering his fate. The Strategic Picture Every few weeks of early 1969, the docks at Cambodia's seaport of Sihanoukville bustled with East European ships offloading to long lines of Hak Ly Trucking Company lorries. Though ostensibly owned by a Chinese businessman, the Hak Ly Company's true operator was North Vietnam's Trinh Sat intelligence service. 

The trucks’ clandestine cargo of rockets, small-arms ammunition and mortar rounds rolled overnight to the heavily jungled frontier of Kampong Cham Province just three miles from the border with South Vietnam, a place the Americans had nicknamed the Fishhook, where vast stockpiles sustained three full enemy divisions, plus communist units across the border inside South Vietnam — some 200,000 foes. 

Cambodian Prince Sihanouk was well aware of these neutrality violations; indeed, his fifth wife, Monique, her mother and half-brother were secretly peddling land rights and political protection to the NVA; other middlemen were selling rice to the NVA by the thousands of tons. Hoping to woo Sihanouk away from the communists, the Johnson Administration had watched passively while thousands of GIs were killed by communist forces operating from Cambodia, and not only did nothing about it, but said nothing, even denied it was happening. And now, each week of February and March 1969, more Americans were dying than lost in the Persian Gulf War, killed by NVA forces that struck quickly then fled back to "neutral” Cambodia. 

Combined with other data, SOG's Cambodian intelligence appeared on a top-secret map which National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger studied aboard Air Force One at Brussels airport the morning of 24 February 1969. Sitting with Kissinger was Colonel Alexander Haig, his military assistant, while representing the president was White House Chief of Staff H.R. "Bob" Haldeman. During the new administration's transition, President Nixon had asked Kissinger to determine how to deal with the Cambodian buildup and counter Hanoi's "fight and talk" strategy. 

While President Nixon addressed NATO's North Atlantic Council, those aboard Air Force One worked out details for a clandestine U.S. response: The secret bombing of Cambodia's most remote sanctuaries, which would go unacknowledged unless Prince Sihanouk protested. When Air Force One departed Brussels, Kissinger briefed President Nixon, who approved the plan but postponed implementing it. Over the coming three weeks, Nixon twice warned Hanoi, "we will not tolerate attacks which result in heavier casualties to our men at a time that we are honestly trying to seek peace at the conference table in Paris." The day after Nixon's second warning, the NVA bombarded Saigon with 122mm rockets obviously smuggled through Cambodia. 

Three days later, Nixon turned loose the B-52s on the Fishhook, the first secret Cambodian raid, which set off 73 secondary explosions. A Special SOG Mission Not one peep emanated from Phnom Penh or Hanoi and there was a fitting irony: For four years the North Vietnamese had denied their presence in Cambodia, and now, with U.S. bombs falling upon them, they could say nothing. 

Nixon suspended further B-52 strikes in hopes Hanoi's negotiators might begin productive discussions in Paris, but the talks droned on pointlessly. To demonstrate that America, too, could "talk and fight," President Nixon approved a second secret B-52 strike, this time against a target proposed by General Creighton Abrams with Ambassador Bunker's endorsement: COSVN, the Central Office for South Vietnam, the almost mythical Viet Cong headquarters which claimed to run the whole war. 

An NVA deserter had pinpointed the COSVN complex 14 miles southeast of Memot, Cambodia, in the Fishhook, just a mile beyond the South Vietnamese border. The COSVN raid was laid on for 24 April. Apprised of the upcoming B-52 strike, Brigadier General Philip Davidson, the MACV J2, thought that instead of just bombing COSVN, a top-secret SOG raiding force should hit the enemy headquarters as soon as the bombs stopped falling. 

He phoned Colonel Steve Cavanaugh, Chief SOG, who agreed and ordered the Ban Me Thuot-based Command and Control South, CCS, to prepare a Green Beret-led company of Montagnard mercenaries for the special mission. At CCS, the historic COSVN raid fell upon its most accomplished man, that living recon legend, Mad Dog Shriver, and Captain Bill O'Rourke. 

Though O'Rourke would command the company-size raiding force, Shriver equally would influence the operation, continuing an eight-month collaboration they’d begun when they ran recon together. Mad Dog — the Man and the Myth 

There was no one at CCS quite like Mad Dog Shriver. Medal of Honor recipient Jim Fleming, who flew USAF Hueys for SOG, found Shriver, "the quintessential warrior-loner, anti-social, possessed by what he was doing, the best team, always training, constantly training." Shriver rarely spoke and walked around camp for days wearing the same clothes. In his sleep he cradled a loaded rifle, and in the club he'd buy a case of beer, open every can, then go alone to a corner and drink them all. Though he'd been awarded a Silver Star, five Bronze Stars, and the Soldiers Medal, the 28-year-old Green Beret didn’t care about decorations. 

But he did care about the Montagnard hill tribesmen, and spent all his money on them, even collected food, clothes, whatever people would give, to distribute in Yard villages. He was the only American at CCS who lived in the Montagnard barracks. "He was almost revered by the Montagnards," O'Rourke says. 

Shriver's closest companion was a German shepherd he'd brought back from Taiwan which he named Klaus. One night Klaus got sick on beer some recon men fed him and crapped on the NCO club floor; they rubbed his nose in it and threw him out. 

Shriver arrived, drank a beer, removed his blue velvet smoking jacket and derby hat, put a .38 revolver on a table, then dropped his pants and defecated on the floor. "If you want to rub my nose in this," he dared, "come on over." Everyone pretended not to hear him; one man who'd fed Klaus beer urged the Recon Company commander to intervene. The captain laughed in his face. "He had this way of looking at you with his eyes half-open," recon man Frank Burkhart remembers. "If he looked at me like that, I'd just about freeze." 

Shriver always had been different. In the early 1960s, when Rich Ryan served with him in the 7th Army's Long Range Patrol Company in Germany, Shriver’s buddies called him "Digger" since they thought he looked like an undertaker. As a joke, his LRRP comrades concocted their own religion, "The Mahoganies," which worshipped a mahogany statue. "So we would carry Shriver around on an empty bunk with a sheet over him and candles on the corners," recalled Ryan, "and chant, 'Maaa-haa-ga-ney, Maaa-haa-ga-ney.' Scared the hell out of new guys." Fleming says Shriver "convinced me that for the rest of my life I would not go into a bar and cross someone I didn't know." But no recon man was better in the woods. "He was like having a dog you could talk to," O'Rourke explained. "He could hear and sense things; he was more alive in the woods than any other human being I've ever met." 

During a company operation on the Cambodian border Shriver and an old Yard compatriot were sitting against a tree, O'Rourke recalled. "Suddenly he sat bolt upright, they looked at each other, shook their heads and leaned back against the tree. I'm watching this and wondering, what the hell's going on? And all of a sudden these birds flew by, then a nano-second later, way off in the distance, 'Boom-boom!' -- shotguns. They'd heard that, ascertained what it was and relaxed before I even knew the birds were flying." Shriver once went up to SOG’s Command and Control North for a mission into the DMZ where Captain Jim Storter encountered him just before insert. "He had pistols stuck everywhere on him, I mean, he had five or six .38 caliber revolvers." Storter asked him, "Sergeant Shriver, would you like a CAR-15 or M-16 or something? 

You know the DMZ is not a real mellow area to go into." But Mad Dog replied, "No, them long guns'll get you in trouble and besides, if I need more than these I got troubles anyhow." Rather than stand down after an operation, Shriver would go out with another team. "He lived for the game; that's all he lived for," Dale Libby, a fellow CCS man said. 

Shriver once promised everyone he was going on R&R but instead sneaked up to Plei Djerang Special Forces camp to go to the field with Rich Ryan's A-Team. During a short leave stateside in 1968, fellow Green Beret Larry White hung out with Shriver, whose only real interest was finding a lever action .444 Marlin rifle. 

Purchasing one of the powerful Marlins, Shriver shipped it back to SOG so he could carry it into Cambodia, "to bust bunkers," probably the only lever gun used in the war. And the Real Jerry Shriver Unless you were one of Mad Dog's close friends, the image was perfect prowess -- but the truth was, Shriver confided to fellow SOG Green Beret Sammy Hernadez, he feared death and didn't think he'd live much longer. 

He'd beat bad odds too many times, and could feel a terrible payback looming. "He wanted to quit," Medal of Honor winner Fred Zabitosky could see. "He really wanted to quit, Jerry did. I said, 'Why don't you just tell them I want off, I don't want to run any more?' He said he would but he never did; just kept running." The 5th Special Forces Group executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel Charlie Norton, had been watching SOG recon casualties skyrocket and grew concerned about men like Mad Dog whose lives had become a continuous flirtation with death. Norton went to the 5th Group commander and urged, "Don't approve the goddamn extensions these guys are asking for. You approve it again, your chances of killing that guy are very, very good." But the group commander explained SOG needed experienced men for its high priority missions. "Bullshit," Norton snapped, "you're signing that guy's death warrant." 

Eventually 5th Group turned down a few extensions but only a very few; the most experienced recon men never had extensions denied. Never. "Mad Dog was wanting to get out of recon and didn't know how," said recon team leader Sonny Franks, though the half-measure came when Shriver left recon to join his teammate O’Rourke’s raider company. And now the COSVN raid would make a fitting final operation; Shriver could face his fear head-on, charge right into COSVN’s mysterious mouth and afterward at last call it quits. Into COSVN’s Mouth The morning of 24 April 1969, while high-flying B-52s winged their way from distant Guam, the SOG raider company lined up beside the airfield at Quan Loi, South Vietnam, only 20 miles southeast of COSVN's secret lair. 

But just five Hueys were flyable that morning, enough to lift only two platoons; the big bombers could not be delayed, which meant Lieutenant Bob Killebrew's 3rd Platoon would have to stand by at Quan Loi while the 1st Platoon under First Lieutenant Walter Marcantel, and 2nd Platoon under First Lieutenant Greg Harrigan, raided COSVN. Capt. O'Rourke and Mad Dog didn't like it, but they could do nothing.* Nor could they do anything about their minimal fire support. 

Although whole waves of B52s were about to dump thousands of bombs into COSVN, the highly classified Cambodian Rules of Engagement forbad tactical air strikes; it was better to lose an American-led SOG team, the State Department rules suggested, then leave documentable evidence that U.S. F4 Phantoms had bombed this "neutral" territory. It was a curious logic so concerned about telltale napalm streaks or cluster bomb fins, but unconcerned about B-52 bomb craters from horizon to horizon. Chief SOG Cavanaugh found the contradiction "ridiculous," but he could not change the rules. 

The B-52 contrails were not yet visible when the raiding force Hueys began cranking and the raiders boarded; Capt. O'Rourke would be aboard the first bird and Shriver on the last so they'd be at each end of the landing Hueys. As they lifted off for the ten-minute flight, the B-52s were making final alignments for the run-in. Minutes later the lead chopper had to turn back because of mechanical problems; O'Rourke could only wish the others Godspeed. 

Command passed to an operations officer in the second bird who'd come along for the raid, Captain Paul Cahill. Momentarily the raiders could see dirt geysers bounding skyward amid collapsing trees. Then as the dust settled a violin-shaped clearing took form and the Hueys descended in-trail, hovered for men to leap off, then climbed away. Then fire exploded from all directions, horrible fire that skimmed the ground and mowed down anyone who didn’t dive into a bomb crater or roll behind a fallen tree trunk. 

From the back of the LZ, Mad Dog radioed that a machinegun bunker to his left-front had his *(Greg Harrigan and I had been boyhood friends in northeast Minneapolis.) men pinned and asked if anyone could fire at it to relieve the pressure. Holed up in a bomb crater beneath murderous fire, Capt. Cahill, 1st Lt. Marcantel and a medic, Sergeant Ernest Jamison, radioed that they were pinned, too. Then Jamison dashed out to retrieve a wounded man; heavy fire cut him down, killing him on the spot. No one else could engage the machinegun that trapped Shriver's men -- it was up to Mad Dog. Skittish Yards looked to Shriver and his half-grin restored a sense of confidence. Then they were on their feet, charging -- Shriver was his old self, running to the sound of guns, a True Believer Yard on either side, all of them dashing through the flying bullets, into the treeline, into the very guts of Mad Dog's great nemesis, COSVN. And Mad Dog Shriver was never seen again. 

The Fight Continues At the other end of the LZ, Jamison's body lay just a few yards from the crater where Capt. Cahill heard bullets cracking and RPGs rocking the ground. When Cahill lifted his head, an AK round hit him in the mouth, deflected up and destroyed an eye. Badly wounded, he collapsed. In a nearby crater, young Lt. Greg Harrigan directed helicopter gunships whose rockets and mini-guns were the only thing holding off the aggressive NVA. 

Already, Harrigan reported, more than half his platoon were killed or wounded. For 45 minutes the Green Beret lieutenant kept the enemy at bay, then Harrigan, too, was hit. He died minutes later. Bill O'Rourke tried to land on another helicopter but his bird couldn't penetrate the NVA veil of lead. Lieutenant Colonel Earl Trabue, their CCS Commander, arrived and flew overhead with O’Rourke but they could do little. Hours dragged by. Wounded men laid untreated, exposed in the sun. 

Several times the Hueys attempted to retrieve them and each time heavy fire drove them off. One door gunner was badly wounded. Finally a passing Australian twin-jet Canberra bomber from No. 2 Squadron at Phan Rang heard their predicament on the emergency radio frequency, ignored the fact it was Cambodia, and dropped a bombload which, O’Rourke reports, "broke the stranglehold those guys were in, and it allowed us to go in." Only 1st Lt. Marcantel was still directing air, and finally he had to bring ordnance so close it wounded himself and his surviving nine Montagnards. 

One medic ran to Harrigan's hole and attempted to lift his body out but couldn't. "They were pretty well drained physically and emotionally," O'Rourke said. Finally, three Hueys raced in and picked up 15 wounded men. Lieutenant Dan Hall carried out a radio operator, then managed to drag Lt. Harrigan's body to an aircraft. Thus ended the COSVN raid. A Time for Reflection Afterward Chief SOG Cavanaugh talked to survivors and learned, "The fire was so heavy and so intense that even the guys trying to [evade] and move out of the area were being cut down." It seemed almost an ambush. "That really shook them up at MACV, to realize anybody survived that [B-52] strike," Col. Cavanaugh said. 

The heavy losses especially affected Brig. Gen. Davidson, the MACV J-2, who blamed himself for the catastrophe. "General," Chief SOG Cavanaugh assured him, "if I'd have felt we were going to lose people like that, I wouldn't have put them in there." It’s that ambush-like reception despite a B-52 strike that opens the disturbing possibility of treachery and, it turns out, it was more than a mere possibility. 

One year after the COSVN raid, the NSA twice intercepted enemy messages warning of imminent SOG operations which could only have come from a mole or moles in SOG headquarters. It would only be long after the war that it became clear Hanoi’s Trinh Sat had penetrated SOG, inserting at least one high ranking South Vietnamese officer in SOG whose treachery killed untold Americans, including, most likely, the COSVN raiders. Of those raiders, Lt. Walter Marcantel survived his wounds only to die six months later in a parachuting accident at Ft. Devens, Mass., while Capt. Paul Cahill was medically retired. 

Eventually, Green Beret medic Ernest Jamison's body was recovered. But those lost in the COSVN raid have not been forgotten. Under a beautiful spring sky on Memorial Day, 1993, with American flags waving and an Army Reserve Huey strewing flower petals as it passed low-level, members of Special Forces Association Chapter XX assembled at Lt. Greg Harrigan’s grave in Minneapolis, Minn. 

Before the young lieutenant’s family, a Special Forces honor guard placed a green beret at his grave, at last conferring some recognition to the fallen SOG man, a gesture the COSVN raid’s high classification had made impossible a quarter-century earlier. 

Until now, neither Harrigan’s family nor the families of the other lost men knew the full story of the top secret COSVN raid. But the story remains incomplete. As in the case of SOG’s other MIAs, Hanoi continues to deny any knowledge of Jerry Shriver. Capt. O'Rourke concluded Mad Dog died that day. "I felt very privileged to have been his friend," O’Rourke says, "and when he died I grieved as much as for my younger brother when he was killed. Twenty-some-odd years later, it still sticks in my craw that I wasn't there. I wish I had been there." 

There remains a popular myth among SOG veterans, that any day now Mad Dog Shriver will emerge from the Cambodian jungle as if only ten minutes have gone by, look right and left and holler, "Hey! Where’d everybody go?" Indeed, to those who knew him and fought beside him, Mad Dog will live forever. (This article is derived from Maj. Plaster’s book, SOG: The Secret Wars of America’s Commandos in Vietnam, published by Simon & Schuster.)

[letmeletmetrashyourlove]

Baby Sister

Summary: The reader is a year younger than her brother, Steve Harrington. She has been sneaking out to see Billy and Steve finds out. A little bit of Billy fluff as well....

Author’s Note: These boys I SWEAR. I’ve seen a request to do a part two, so let me know if that’s something you’d like. xxxx

I stood in front of my mirror, putting my face on for the night. See, Billy Hargrove had somehow gotten me to fall in love with him. I don’t know how. The guy could be a real prick. Which was precisely why I was plotting to sneak out tonight. A knock on my door made me jump,

“Hold on a sec!” I yelled, placing my tube of lipstick down on my vanity. I prayed that my brother wouldn’t open the door. He would ask questions if he saw me all dressed up. We had helped each other sneak out before. He wanted to make sure that he knew where I was, just in case. But this time, there was no way in hell I could tell him where I was going.

         “Just me. Going to bed!” Steve hollered, “Don’t be blasting that shit you listen to all night.”

        “Night, jackass!” I retorted, letting out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

I wrestled on my jeans, the ones that made my ass look phenomenal. I tugged on my leather jacket over it just as there was a slam of a car door outside. I slipped my boots on before peering out my window. The dull glow of a lit cigarette under my window told me he was here. I turned out the lights, snagging my purse before flinging my window open. I wriggled out onto the roof, using extra caution not to tumble off onto my ass. Like I did the last time… Which I will never hear the end of.

I scooted on my butt, closing the window behind me. I slid off the gutters and into the arms of the boy below. He caught me around the waist, urgently pressing his lips to mine.

        "You stuck your landing." He applauded.

I hummed against his lips, tugging back slightly, he followed me though.

        “Okay! Stop! Steve’s still awake!” I hissed between kisses, glancing up at his bedroom window to see the light on.

        “When are we gonna stop sneaking around, huh!?” He half hollered.

I whacked my hand over his mouth,

        “Stop causing trouble!” I scolded, giving his ass a slap as he strutted over to the car.

I climbed into the passenger seat, glowering over at him. He had a crimson stain on his lips,

        “You’ve got lipstick on your face,” I notified, licking my thumb and swiping it across his face.

He playfully nipped at my hand, missing as I pulled away,

        “Alright, tiger. Let’s go.” I rolled my eyes.

He threw the car into gear, zooming off down the road.  

        “So, where are we going tonight?” I questioned as he settled his hand on mine.

        “It’s a surprise.” He replied, waggling his eyebrows at me.

        “Well, shit.”

The last surprise he had ended up getting us both stranded in the middle of the woods during a heavy rainstorm. The damn car couldn’t get any traction. We both ended up soaked and covered in mud when we decided to push it out.  

        “You still holding that over my head?” He questioned.

        “Barely managed to lie my way out of that one,” I grumbled.

I told Steve that some jackass sped past me as I walked in the rain, spraying me with mud. He was pissed about it, demanding that I tell him what the car looked like.

        “You know if we just told him-”

        “We’re not telling him. Not yet.”  

        “Oh, so we’re going to wait until we’re married with babies to tell your brother about us?” He chortled.

        “Married? Kids? You really thinking that far ahead?”  

        “Just a… what is that called…. Hyperbolt or something.”

        “Hyperbole?”

        “Yeah, that one.”

I rolled my eyes as he pulled into the unlit parking lot of an abandoned gas station.

        “How romantic.” I wisecracked.

As soon as he parked the car, he reached over to me, dragging me from my seat and onto his lap. My butt hit the steering wheel, honking the horn. We both laughed breathlessly as he grasped my cheeks, smashing his lips against mine. He shoved my jacket off my shoulders,

        “Somebody's excited.” I panted as he pulled away.

He grunted in return, his hands fumbling with the buttons on my blouse.  

        “Not tonight,” I told him, capturing his hands.

He let out a disappointed whine, but adhered to my wishes, buttoning my blouse back up as he pouted.

        “You know, you can’t just mention marriage and children to a girl and not talk about it.”

        “I was just joking.” He drawled.

        “Oh, no no no. It’s always the girl who brings it up first,” I dismissed his explanation, “Boys are terrified of that kind of thing. Wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”  

He groaned, thudding his head against my chest. He knocked the air out of me as he did so. I brought my hands up to play with his mane, twirling strands of it around my fingers.

He grumbled something incoherently against my shirt.  

        “Hmm?” I challenged.

He repeated it, making no more sense than the last time.

        “Billy.”  

        “Okay. Okay… Yeah… I’m thinking that far ahead, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” He admitted.

        “You never struck me as a family man.”

Sure the prospect of marriage scared me, let alone the thought of children. But hey, all of our parents got married right out of high school. Although, that didn’t work out for a bulk of them… But the fact that that could even cross his mind…

        “Yeah well. Wanna raise kids better than my dad did.”  

        “Well. We’ll see whether or not my brother kills you before we’re ready for that.” I grinned, pressing a comforting kiss to his forehead.

        “You’re not going to freak out?”

        “No, I’m not going to freak out. Shows me you’re in for the long haul.” I reassured.

        “So does that mean we can tell Steve?”

        “No!” I blurted.

Sure, Steve would have to find out eventually. But Billy didn’t have pure intentions behind wanting to inform him. Billy preferred to stir up trouble. When we first started dating, I genuinely suspected it was because he wanted to get to my older brother. But when he went along with not telling him, I realized he was in it for me. The battle they got into a few weeks ago resulted in the two of us getting into a blowout fight. Both of us screaming and throwing things until he broke down into tears, folding into my arms. That was the first night we spent together. Both of us falling asleep in the back of my car, a tangle of limbs and hair.

I remained his lap for the rest of the night, the two of us chatting about everything under the sun. How he was doing in school. How much Max pissed him off the other day. Which I would scold him over. He talked about his dad, which we didn’t do often. He would come over, tears in his eyes and covered in bruises, but we wouldn’t talk about it. I’d just clean him up and we’d pretend it didn’t happen.

Both of us had conversations we didn’t want to have. And for now, we understood and kept both of our mouths shut.

        “Oh, fuck,” I muttered as we pulled up to the house.

Steve was sat on the front stoop, propping his head on his palms. His nail-riddled bat sat behind him.  Billy showed me a devilish grin. Since the last time they tried to kick the shit out of each other, Billy had just been dying to get under Steve’s skin again.

        “Behave.” I snarled at Billy, pointing a finger at him.  

He got out of the car ahead of me, opening my door for me. Steve got to his feet, hands on his hips.

        “So, that is you, Hargrove.” He confronted, “What the hell are you doing with my sister?”

        “Oh, so now you know how it feels, don’t you? Having some asshole hanging out with your sister?” Billy taunted, mirroring Steve’s posture and passing his tongue along his bottom lip.

        “Oh, and your lipstick is smeared… Great.” Steve called out, using his thumb to fix it. I swatted at his hand, “Go inside.”

        “No way in hell I’m leaving you two out here by yourselves.” I rejected, crossing my arms.  

        “How long has this been going on?” Steve questioned, gesturing between the two of us.

        “Oh, pal. Are you really so oblivious?” Billy gibed, wrapping his arm around me and planting his hand directly on my ass. I shot him a glare, he only smirked in response.

Steve’s eyes about popped out of his head as his jaw clenched.

        “I wasn’t talking to you,” Steve growled, his gaze unable to withdraw from Billy’s hand on my ass.

        “Four months… You really aren’t a quick study, Stevie.” I responded, shuffling my feet awkwardly in an attempt to prompt Billy to remove his hand.

In reply, he gave me a squeeze, making me jump.

        “Okay, pal.” Steve warned, stalking up to us, “Hands off.”

        “What’re you talking about?” Billy questioned, clutching me harder.

        “I swear to GOD if you don’t take your disgusting hands off my sister I’m gonna-”

        “How well did that work out for you last time, Stevie.” Billy interrupted, letting out a snicker.  

I stepped between the two as Steve clenched his fists, they started to square up, chest to chest. I raised my hands up, placing on hand on each of their chests and giving a soft shove backward.

        “Hey. Nuh-uh. Stop your dick measuring contest, right now.”  I advised.

        “Someone has to look out for you, Y/N. I’m just doing my job.” Steve growled, seeking to advance on the larger boy. I blocked his path.

        “Jesus Christ, Steve. I am my own woman, okay? This is my choice, and I don’t need you to defend me.” I asserted.

        “You’re my baby sister, you expect me not to do anything when I catch you with the biggest asshole in town.”

Billy scoffed at this claim, licking his lips,

        “If he hurts you I s-”

        “If he hurts me, then I’ll handle it. Okay? That’s my bed to lie in if it happens.”  

        “I mean, you’re the one treating her like a possession, not me.” Billy countered.

“Don’t start,” I warned, pointing my finger at him. He held his hands up in submission, finally taking it off my ass.

        “She’s my baby sister, of course I’m going to-”

        “Ah!” I halted, pointing a finger at him.

        “Oh now you’ve pissed her off.” Billy chuckled.

        “Ah! No.” I scolded.

They both made a noise of protest,

        “Mmm!” I exclaimed, glaring between the two. 

They both let out a grunt and crossed their arms over their chests,

        “Okay. So I’m going to kiss my boyfriend goodnight, and you’re going to go inside.” I directed.

        “Boyfriend,” Steve grumbled.

        “Go!” I ordered.  

He trudged back inside, creating a spectacle of picking up his bat. He gave it a swing before resting it against his shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned back toward Billy who beamed proudly.  

        “So does this mean we don’t have to sneak around?” He asked,  once again wrapping his arms around me and grabbing my ass as I coiled my arms around his neck.

        “Won’t be able to. He’s not gonna let me out of his sight.” I retorted.

        “I love you, even if your brother is batshit crazy.” He declared, pressing a kiss to my lips. He nearly shoved his tongue down my throat as he leaned me backward. He lifted his hand off my ass, presenting a middle finger to Steve who you could be damn sure was looking out the window at us.

        “Keep doing that and I’m going to let him go after you with the bat.” I threatened breathlessly as he pulled away.  

        “What’s with the bat, anyway?” Billy questioned.

        “That’s a story for another day, sweetheart.” I exhaled, giving him a pat on the chest.  

        “Night.” He smirked, pressing a sweeter kiss to my lips before letting me walk away, “Love you!”  

        “Yeah yeah yeah, love you too, asshole,” I replied, shooing him out of my driveway.    

        “Billy Hargrove!?” Steve interrogated as I entered the house.

I scoffed at him, blowing past him and trotting up the stairs.

        “Jesus Christ, I’d rather you date Tommy H. than Billy Hargrove!”

        “Ew!” I cried.

[aamilkeeyankhan]

STORY STRUCTURE: The 5 Key Turning Points of All Successful Screenplays

Hollywood movies are simple.

Though writing a successful Hollywood movie is certainly not easy, the stories for mainstream Hollywood films are all built on only three basic components: character, desire and conflict.

Film stories portray heroes who face seemingly insurmountable obstacles as they pursue compelling objectives. Whether it’s Clarice Starling trying to stop Hannibal, Captain Miller Saving Private Ryan, or Billy Elliott trying to gain admission to a ballet school, all these protagonists confront overwhelming conflict in their pursuit of some visible goal.

Plot structure simply determines the sequence of events that lead the hero toward this objective. And here’s the good news: whether you’re writing romantic comedies, suspense thrillers, historical dramas or big budget science fiction, all successful Hollywood movies follow the same basic structure.

Even if you are a novelist, speaker, marketer or attorney, understanding these turning points, and incorporating them into your stories, will strengthen your ability to enthrall your reader or audience.

In a properly structured movie, the story consists of six basic stages, which are defined by five key turning points in the plot. Not only are these turning points always the same; they always occupy the same positions in the story. So what happens at the 25% point of a 90-minute comedy will be identical to what happens at the same percentage of a three-hour epic. (These percentages apply both to the running time of the film and the pages of your screenplay.)

In the explanation that follows, I want to take two recent blockbusters through this entire structural process: Susannah Grant’s screenplay for Erin Brockovich; and Gladiator, written by David H. Franzoni, John Logan and William Nicholson. As different as these two films are in style, genre, length and subject matter, both have made more than a hundred million dollars at the box office, both were among the most critically acclaimed films of 2000, and both employ the same basic plot structure.

STAGE I: The Setup

Erin Brockovich: Erin is a broke, unemployed single mother who can’t find a job, gets hit by a car, and loses her lawsuit.

Gladiator: Maximus, Rome’s most powerful, and most popular, general, leads his troops to victory in their final battle.

The opening 10% of your screenplay must draw the reader, and the audience, into the initial setting of the story, must reveal the everyday life your hero has been living, and must establish identification with your hero by making her sympathetic, threatened, likable, funny and/or powerful.

Cast Away transports us into the world of a FedEx executive, shows him as likable and good at his job, and creates sympathy and worry when he must leave the woman he loves at Christmas to fly off in dangerous weather. Or think of Lowell Bergman’s mysterious, threatening pursuit of a story at the beginning of The Insider. These setups pull us out of our own existence and into the captivating world the screenwriter has created.

TURNING POINT #1: The Opportunity (10%)

Erin Brockovich: Erin forces Ed Masry to give her a job.



Gladiator: Maximus is offered a reward by Emperor Marcus Aurelius, and he says he wants to go home.

Ten percent of the way into your screenplay, your hero must be presented with an opportunity, which will create a new, visible desire, and will start the character on her journey. This is the point where Neo is taken to meet Morpheus and wants to learn about The Matrix, or where Ike gets fired and wants to go meet the Runaway Bride.

Notice that the desire created by the opportunity is not the specific goal that defines your story concept, but rather a desire to move into…

STAGE 2: The New Situation

Erin Brockovich: Erin begins working for Ed Masry’s law firm, meets her neighbor George, and starts investigating a case in Hinkley, California, but then gets fired

Gladiator: Maximus is asked by the dying Emperor to take control of Rome and give it back to the people, in spite of the ambition of his son Commodus.

For the next 15% of the story, your hero will react to the new situation that resulted from the opportunity. He gets acclimated to the new surroundings, tries to figure out what’s going on, or formulates a specific plan for accomplishing his overall goal: Fletcher has to figure out that he’s been cursed to tell the truth in Liar, Liar; and Mrs. Doubtfire devises a plan for seeing (his) children.

Very often story structure follows geography, as the opportunity takes your hero to a new location: boarding the cruise ships in Titanic and The Talented Mr. Ripley; going to Cincinnati to bury his father in Rain Man; the President taking off on Air Force One.

In most movies, the hero enters this new situation willingly, often with a feeling of excitement and anticipation, or at least believing that the new problem he faces can be easily solved. But as the conflict starts to build, he begins to realize he’s up against far greater obstacles than he realized, until finally he comes to…

TURNING POINT #2: The Change of Plans (25%)

Erin Brockovich: Erin gets rehired to help win a suit against PG&E.

Gladiator: Maximus, after learning that Commodus has murdered his father, vows to stop the new emperor and carry out Marcus Aurelius’ wishes.

Something must happen to your hero one-fourth of the way through your screenplay that will transform the original desire into a specific, visible goal with a clearly defined end point. This is the scene where your story concept is defined, and your hero’s outer motivation is revealed.

Outer motivation is my term for the visible finish line the audience is rooting for your hero to achieve by the end of the film. It is here that Tess discovers that Katherine has stolen her idea in Working Girl, and now wants to close the deal herself by posing as a broker. This is what we’re rooting for Tess to do, and we know that when she’s accomplished this goal (or failed to), the movie will be over.

Please don’t confuse outer motivation with the inner journey your hero takes. Because much of what we respond to emotionally grows out of the hero’s longings, wounds, fears, courage and growth, we often focus on these elements as we develop our stories. But these invisible character components can emerge effectively only if they grow out of a simple, visible desire.

STAGE III: Progress

Erin Brockovich: Erin gets some Hinkley residents to hire Ed to represent them, and gets romantically involved with George.

Gladiator: Maximus is taken to be killed, escapes to find his family murdered, and is captured and sold to Proximo, who makes him a powerful gladiator.

For the next 25% of your story, your hero’s plan seems to be working as he takes action to achieve his goal: Ethan Hunt begins closing in on the villain in Mission: Impossible 2; Pat gets involved with the woman of his dreams in There’s Something About Mary.

This is not to say that this stage is without conflict. But whatever obstacles your hero faces, he is able to avoid or overcome them as he approaches…

TURNING POINT #3: The Point of No Return (50%)

Erin Brockovich: Erin and Ed file the lawsuit, risking dismissal by the judge, which would destroy any hope of a settlement.

Gladiator: Maximus arrives in Rome, determined to win the crowd as a Gladiator so he can destroy Commodus.

At the exact midpoint of your screenplay, your hero must fully commit to her goal. Up to this point, she had the option of turning back, giving up on her plan, and returning to the life she was living at the beginning of the film. But now your hero must burn her bridges behind her and put both feet in. (And never let it be said that I can’t work two hackneyed metaphors into the same sentence).

It is at precisely this moment that Truman crosses the bridge in The Truman Show, and that Rose makes love with Jack in Titanic. They are taking a much bigger risk than at any previous time in these films. And as a result of passing this point of no return, they must now face…

STAGE IV: Complications and Higher Stakes

Erin Brockovich: Erin sees less of George and her kids, while Ed brings in a big firm that alienates the Hinkley plaintiffs.

Gladiator: Maximus becomes a hero to the Roman people and reveals his true identity to Commodus.

For the next 25% of your story, achieving the visible goal becomes far more difficult, and your hero has much more to lose if he fails. After Mitch McDeere begins collecting evidence against The Firm at that movie’s midpoint, he now must hide what he’s doing from both the mob and the FBI (complications), and failure will result in either prison or death (higher stakes).

This conflict continues to build until, just as it seems that success is within your hero’s grasp, he suffers…

TURNING POINT #4: The Major Setback (75%)

Erin Brockovich: Most of the plaintiffs withdraw due to the bungled efforts of the new lawyers, and George leaves Erin.

Gladiator: Maximus refuses to help the leader of the Senate, and Commodus plots to destroy both Maximus and the Senate.

Around page 90 of your screenplay, something must happen to your hero that makes it seem to the audience that all is lost: Carol dumps Melvin in As Good As It Gets; Morpheus is captured in The Matrix. If you’re writing a romantic comedy like Working Girl or What Women Want, this is the point where your hero’s deception is revealed and the lovers break up.

These disastrous events leave your hero with only one option: he must make one, last, all-or-nothing, do-or-die effort as he enters…

STAGE V: The Final Push

Erin Brockovich: Erin must rally the Hinkley families to agree to binding arbitration, and find evidence incriminating the PG&E corporate office.

Gladiator: Maximus conspires to escape from Proximo and lead his former troops against Commodus.

Beaten and battered, your hero must now risk everything she has, and give every ounce of strength and courage she possesses, to achieve her ultimate goal: Thelma & Louise must outrun the FBI to reach the border; and the Kennedy’s must attempt one final negotiation with the Soviets in 13 Days.

During this stage of your script, the conflict is overwhelming, the pace has accelerated, and everything works against your hero, until she reaches…

TURNING POINT #5: The Climax (90-99%)

Erin Brockovich: Erin and Ed win a $330 million dollar settlement, and George returns.

Gladiator: Maximus has his final battle with Commodus in the arena.

Several things must occur at the climax of the film: the hero must face the biggest obstacle of the entire story; she must determine her own fate; and the outer motivation must be resolved once and for all. This is the big moment where our heroes go into the Twister and the Jewish factory workers make their escape in Schindler’s List.

Notice that the climax can occur anywhere from the 90% point to the last couple minutes of the movie. The exact placement will be determined by the amount of time you need for…

STAGE VI: The Aftermath

Erin Brockovich: Erin gets a $2 million bonus, and continues working with Ed.

Gladiator: Maximus is united with his family in death, and his body carried away in honor by the new leaders of the Roman republic.

No movie ends precisely with the resolution of the hero’s objective. You have to reveal the new life your hero is living now that he’s completed his journey.

In movies like Rocky, Thelma & Louise and The Truman Show, there is little to show or explain, and the writer’s goal is to leave the audience stunned or elated. So the climax occurs near the very end of the film. But in most romantic comedies, mysteries and dramas, the aftermath will include the final five or ten pages of the script.

Understanding these stages and turning points provides you with a powerful tool for developing and writing your screenplay. Is your story concept defined at the one-quarter mark? Is your hero’s goal truly visible, with a clearly implied outcome and not just an inner desire for success, acceptance or self worth? Have you fully introduced your hero before presenting her with an opportunity around page 10? Does she suffer a major setback 75% of the way into your script?

But a word of caution: don’t let all these percentages block your creativity. Structure is an effective template for rewriting and strengthening the emotional impact of your story. But you don’t want to be imprisoned by it. Come up with characters you love and a story that ignites your passion. Then apply these structural principles, to ensure that your screenplay will powerfully touch the widest possible audience.

[swankymikehanlon-blog]

Things I noticed in the stranger things trailer

Check the trailer out here

I should be writing request but the Stranger Things trailer came out and let me just join this hype train real quick.

Things I noticed

00:41- When a car is being driven down the road, one half of the forest is green and alive while the other is wilting and/or dead

00:57- I think Will, during his trance, his mom, and his friends are standing in front of Hawkins Middle School, because later in the trailer (Specifically 1:29) it shows The Thesselhydra towering both Will and the school 

1:21- Eleven is standing in front of the door of Terry Ives’ house (If you compare the Door to this trailer and the Episode where Joyce and Hopper meet Terry, they’re the same)

1:43- Nancy says to Jonathan “Don’t you think it’s weird. We only seem to hang out when the world is about to end.” Meaning her and Jonathan haven’t hung out in the last year, possibly since that small moment during Christmas

1:50- Lucas falls atop of Max in a somewhat protective matter and It’s adorable

1:53- Max is right below the opening to where that school bus stair case is, and before that something thumps repeatedly on the bus roof

1:53-1:54- When Joyce’s new Boyfriend, Bob, rounds the corner running, if you look behind him you see a couple of people lying on the floor and I think the one leaning against the wall may be Dustin

2:08-2:09- I think those people are targeting Eleven because the graffiti is the same on the walls

 Questions: 

Is half the forest dying supposed to symbolize something?

Why are Steve and Billy fighting?

What does Max hit with the spiked baseball bat?

How long was Eleven in the upside down?

Who’s gonna die?

Theories:

1. Personally, I think Will may die. And I’m gonna cry, but if you watch the trailer at 1:31 to 1:32 Joyce and Bob are holding each other as they cry and the Doctor Owens seems to show a look of lost hope. Before that Will is seen suffering in a hospital bed and screaming at the top of his lungs in pain. To be honest I think this is the moment Will dies and it’s gonna be so emotional and I’m not prepared (I hope I’m wrong, very, veryyyyy wrong)

2. I think Max will do some damage to Billy. For a split minute in the trailer it shows Max hitting something with Steve’s spiked bat, and I think Max maybe beating the shit out of Billy or even killing him. In the trailer it shows Steve and Billy fighting each other, and what if Billy has the upper hand and totally dominates Steve in the fight, almost to the point of homicide, and Max does something on impulse to help Steve. And that’s to attack Billy with a weapon other than her hands. 

3. When Bob is seen running around the corner, you could see bodies laying on the floor behind him, and I think one of those bodies is Dustin. This theory doesn’t really make sense but if you squint real hard, you could possibly see Dustin’s hat on the head of the body laying down. But again, this is a really weak theory so.

4. Will becomes possessed and that’s what the whole gang is fighting at 2:12 to 2:15. That iconic moment when Hopper throws the shot gun to Nancy and she catches it mid-air was...Iconic. But other than that, Wills voice over after that when he says, “You should go now, it’s almost here.” was super creepy but helps with this theory. I think Will is talking to everyone who was in that room getting ready to fight whatever it is they’re pointing at. They could be pointing at another type of Demogorgan, but I think they’re pointing it at “Will”

5. Moving on to my final theory, Will has been dead. Now this maybe a stretch, but what if Will has been dead this whole time since he got out of the upside down. He’s only “alive” because his body still harvest those little slugs he threw up in the finale of season 1. (This is a really stupid theory and I don’t know how to put it in words but yeah...)

[agncss-blog]

AGNES HIGHTOWER ( * - TASK 001 - * )

‘     i’m just trying to find a way to hit the reset button     ‘

( * - general information

full name: agnes magnolia hightower

pronunciation: æg.nis mæg’noli.a hy.tœw.ur

nickname(s): aggs, ness, sness (by her brothers)

preferred name: agnes

current age: twenty-one

astrological sign: cancer

element: water

title: miss

label: the serendipitist

gender: female

preferred pronouns: she/her

sexual preference: heterosexual

romantic preference: heteroalterous 

resides in: princeton, new jersey

current occupation: student

language(s) spoken: english

native language: english

current marital status: single

( * - background

reason behind name: paternal grand mother’s name

birth order: george, agnes then dean

ethnicity: caucasian

nationality: american

species: human

religion: christian

culture: southern

traditions/customs: southern traditions / southern hospitality

political views: low levels

financial status: mid - high class

iq: ninety three

hometown: shelby, alabama

( * - physical appearance

looks like: scarlett leithold

height: five ‘ nine

weight: fifty four kg

shoe size: seven

figure/build: ectomorph , pear shape

hair colour, dyed?: natural blonde

hair length: long

eye colour: blue

glasses: n/a

shape of face: triangle

facial hair: none

shave/wax: wax

skin tone: olive / tan

tattoos: small red love heart on index finger

piercings: two in both ears

birthmarks/scars/distinguishing marks: upper thigh mug shaped mark

dominant hand: right

nail colour: baby blue

usual style of clothing: casual

frequently worn jewellery: birthstone ring & agnes necklace that was her grandmother’s 

describe their voice/accent: strong southern accent

speaking style:  slow

describe their scent: coconut vanilla

describe their posture: average-good

( * - legal information

speeding tickets: yes

have they ever been arrested: no

do they have a criminal record: no

have they committed any violent crimes: no

property crimes: no

traffic crimes: no

other crimes: no

( * - medical information

blood type: ab

date/time of birth: 7/7/1996, 8:48 pm

place of birth: shelby, alabama

vaginal birth or cesauren section: vaginal

sex: female

diet: carnivorous

smoker/drinker/drug user: drinker, occasional drug user

addictions: n/a

allergies: cats

do they get occasional checkups: only when injured or sick

ever broken a bone: yes, three times

hospital visits, what for?: broken bones, appendicitis

and physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: previous appendicitis

any medication regularly taken: allergy medication

( * - career information

past occupation(s): life guard at shelby community pool

why are they no longer working as it: left for college

current occupation: casual waitress // works once a week

do they enjoy their current occupation:  yes because she doesn’t have to work much

why do they do it: because she likes to know that her source of income isn’t just from her father

how did they end up in their current occupation: applied at the burger joint in her freshman year after she really enjoyed the service and saw the wanted sign

( * - personality

direct quote from them: ‘ you’re sayin it like masochism is a bad thing ‘

positive traits: kind, loyal, open-minded

negative traits: untrusting, grudge holding, promiscuous

likes: swimming, burgers, running, rick and morty, kid cudi, kanye, chance the rapper, childish gambino, scrubs, family, national holidays.

dislikes: capsicum, skorts, wedges (shoes), makeup too dark for someone’s skin, christmas.

insecurities: family, gpa, test scores, how often she finds herself in bed with someone

fears/phobias: needles

lucky number: seven

( * - favourites

food: burgers

drink: canadian club

fast food restaurant: in ‘n’ out

flavour: coconut

word: crap

colour: orange

clothing: denim jacket, classic vans

accessory: grandmother’s necklace

candle scent: caramel

game: cluedo

occupation: olympians

animal: golden retriever

holiday: fourth of july

weather: warm

season: summer

book: harry potter and the half - blood prince

sport: football, basketball and swimming

sports team: alabama crimson tide, cleveland cavaliers

quote: ‘ shine, looking for the golden light. oh it’s a reasonable sacrifice ‘

possession: blanket that her brother knitted for her when she bet him he couldn’t do it in 24 hours

name: wilson

number: seven

landmark: machu picchu

( * - skills

talents: swimming, drinking, running, flexibility

ability to drive a car: very well

can they ride a bike:  very well

do they play any sports: swimming, occasionally athletics

anything they’re bad at: studying, singing, playing any instrument, public speaking, walking in high heels

do they have any combat training?: no

( * - firsts

childhood memory: sitting on the front porch with her brother’s watching a parade go through her small town

crush: billy brownless, third grade

email address: coolieagnes7@hotmail.com

job: life guard

phone: Motorola razor

kiss: joseph breeland, seventh grade

love: n/a

sexual experience: summer, 2011

( * - childhood

best childhood memory: her brothers and her cousins running around her back yard on a spring day.

worst childhood memory: trying to hold onto her mother for her to stay and instead being pushed into the wall and onto the ground, this was the day her mother left her family.

what were they like as a child: she was competitive around her brothers, she was a mother’s girl, up until the day she left, she was sweet, but not overly nice, would spend her time outside rather than inside, tended to make friends easier with boys over girls.

any crushes growing up: one in middle school, and one in elementary school. 

did they know/like their parents: she loved her mother, and she still loves her father.

worst influence on them as a kid: her brothers

did they have a lot of friends: yes

were they heavily punished: no

anything they wish they could cut out: the day her mum left

were they more feminine or masculine: in between

were they an early or late bloomer for puberty: early

do they still know any of their childhood friends: yes

did they have any chores: yes

describe their childhood home: large house on a plantation, massive windows everywhere so the light was always streaming in, there was a porch that stretched all the way around the large house. there was a pond and large, wispy trees everywhere, they had a pool and a tree house.

( * - this or that

expensive or inexpensive treats: inexpensive

hygienic or unhygienic: hygienic

open minded or close minded: open minded

introvert or extrovert: in between

optimistic or pessimistic: optimistic

daredevil or cautious: dare devil

logical or emotional: in between

generous or stingy: generous

polite or rude: polite to those who are polite back. vice versa

book smart or street smart: street smart

dominant or submissive: submissive

popular or loner: popular

leader or follower: follower

day or night person: evening/afternoon

cat or dog person: dog

closet door open or closed while sleeping: closed

( * - family relationships

father: thomas hightower

describe their relationship: good, she hasn’t really known how to act around him since her mum left so it’s been strained, but she still makes sure she talks to him often while she’s not home

mother: dalia hightower (beaumont)

describe their relationship: estranged now, but in the past it was an incredibly close relationship

brothers: dean hightower, george hightower

describe their relationship: they’re her best friends, always have been as they were quite protective of her since a young age, even though one of them is younger than her

other important relatives: tillie beaumont - cousin

significant other: n/a

children: n/a

( * - social media

facebook name: agnes hightower

twitter handle: n/a

instagram user: @agshightower

vine user: watcher not user

snapchat user: agnes.h

name on tinder: agnes hightower

tumblr url: n/a

youtube channel: n/a

( * - musical tastes

theme song: pursuit of happiness kid cudi

can relate to: a LOT of music

makes them happy: a lot of rap music

makes them sad: stuff like lana, marina, halsey

makes them dance: any upbeat music

loves the most: rap

never gets tired of: rap

would like to be played at their wedding: love on top - beyoncé

would like to play at their funeral: undecided

( * - headcanons

link to headcanons

( * - miscellaneous

do they have a fake i.d.: when they were underage, yes

are they a virgin: no

how long would they survive in a zombie apocalypse: till the end sun

do they travel: when her family goes somewhere every year she joins them

one place they would like to live: chicago

one place they would like to visit: peru

celebrity crush: n/a

what can you find in their pockets/wallet/purse: nothing exciting

places your character can always be found: pool, campus green, under a tree, running track, at her work

when does you character like to wake up: between seven and nine am

what’s your character’s morning routine: wake up, eat, brush teeth, pool or run, shower, get dressed

what does your character eat for breakfast/lunch: apple or banana and a slice of toast for breakfast and it depends on the day for her lunch

how does your character spend their free days: in the sun

what’s your character’s bedtime routine: shower, get changed, brush teeth, in bed, on phone, sleep

what does your character wear to bed: underwear or oversized shirt

if your character can’t fall asleep what are they thinking about: the next day

what has been their greatest achievement: princeton swimming scholarship

what is their idea of perfect happiness: surrounded by kind people, doing what she loves

what or who is the greatest love of their life: n/a

on what occasions do they lie: when it’s to save someone from being hurt

most marked characteristic: kindness

what is one thing they’d most like to change: she doesn’t want to be just the nice girl

how would they like to die: in place of someone she loves

do they snore: no

do they chew their pen’s pencils: yes

can they curl their tongue: yes

can they whistle: no

do they believe in the supernatural: sometimes

have they ever cheated on anyone: no

have they ever been cheated on: yes

has anyone ever broken their heart: mother

have they ever broken anyone’s heart: yes

are they squeamish: depends 

have they ever killed anyone: no

have they ever seen anyone die: no

are they a lightweight: no

[geek-patient-zero]

Part 1, Chapter 7

Or: Lameth the Suburbanite Schlub

Blood War: Masquerade of the Red Death Trilogy Volume 1

St. Louis—March 11, 1994

When we last left Dire McCann, he had three problems: the mystery of the Red Death and what connection he could have with the rising Nictuku, Flavia figuring out that he’s secretly an ancient and powerful Methuselah possessing a human body, and Rachel Young, the singer from The Club Diabolique and suspected assassin of Tyrus Benedict, stealing his mail from his office while he was out. Now he’s leaving his office and going home to have a drink, think about those problems a little more, and hit the hay.

For the first two pages, the narrative further establishes how the World of Darkness is a Harsher, Crueler Version of Our World, and how cautious, suspicious, and prepared McCann is as a result. He waits ten minutes and spends more money for a security guard to get his car out of a city-run underground parking lot.

Despite security cameras and motorcycle patrols, muggings, rapes, and murders were common occurrences in these parking garages. Rumors had it that the security patrols were the ones responsible for many of the crimes. No one knew for sure, as dead men told no tales.

Evil rent-a-cops aren’t the only plague on the city.

McCann didn’t mind spending the extra money if it avoided unnecessary confrontation. The city was a dangerous place. Urban America was increasingly becoming a jungle in which only the strongest and smartest survived. More people died these days from gunshot wounds than from any disease.

But don’t worry. Our government’s hard at work making sure preventable illnesses come in at a close second.

The government claimed that crime was under control. But nobody believed the politicians. The truth was on the streets.

Survival depended more on recognizing the perils that haunted daily life and adjusting to them than on superior firepower. A fact of life in the nightmarish world of modern society was that someone else always possessed superior weaponry.

Good to know in the Stark, Desolate Landscape of the World of Darkness, with all it’s vampires, werewolves, and wraiths, gun violence is still the bigger problem. ‘Murika!

McCann lives in the suburbs, instantly losing some cool points. I bet you thought, after all that talk about Urban America being a jungle where only the strong survive, he’d live in a shitty apartment in the city where you need to have street smarts to survive just getting to your floor. Nope. Suburbs. It makes all the stuff about how dangerous the city is sound like a sheltered suburbanite repeating something Tom and Susan told them in hushed tones at the Nelsons’ yard sale.

But McCann doesn’t want to live just anywhere. He wants somewhere private and secure.

McCann lived in a small brick home in a new development a few blocks off Highway 80. Located on a wide lot at the end of a quiet street, it was surrounded by a wrought-iron security fence, isolating the building from the rest of the block. Which was exactly what the detective desired. He wanted to be left alone. In these troubled times, no one considered his security measures the least bit unusual.

One of those homeowners, huh? There’s at least one house on the block that has security cameras or a pack of doberman guard dogs or something, even in the safest neighborhood. Who knows, there could be an “urban” person a few blocks closer to the highway just waiting to case your home.

He had bought the house for cash less than a year before, when he first decided to settle in the St. Louis area. He knew none of his neighbors and had no interest in meeting them. He worked at night and slept during the day. The few times he had seen anyone he had raised a hand in greeting, but said nothing. McCann considered his home a safe place to rest and relax. His office served as his base of operations. He socialized in neither of them.

Someone’s never watched The ‘Burbs. Buying a house with cash, surrounded by a wrought-iron leave-me-the-fuck-alone security fence, working and sleeping at odd hours, and never speaking to anyone? All while living near people often stereotyped as gossipy rumormongers who never mind their own business and spy on anyone “unusual”? A private person like McCann should never be able to rest and relax. He’d live in fear that somehow, someday, Tom Hanks would break into his house and discover all his World of Darkness secrets.

Alright, enough talking about suburbs like I don’t comfortably live in one. McCann parks his car in the garage but before he enters his house, he checks on his real security system by placing his hand on the wall.

Certain arcane rituals from the dawn of civilization imbued a home with the personality of its owner.

McCann’s house is also a smug secretive jerk who thinks it’s the greatest and wisest schemer ever. Aww, look, he’s comforting the sexy white house across the street whose neighbor burned down. Oh no, it accidentally gave away its biggest secret!

A master magician, and McCann was among the greatest ever to walk the Earth, could immediately sense any disturbance in their dwelling.

I know I said McCann only knew simple parlor tricks to barely pass as a mage, but I might’ve downplayed the true extent of his powers. A bit.

There was none. McCann was safe. At least for the moment, neither the Red Death nor the mysterious Ms. Young had discovered his hideaway.

Shame. It would’ve been funny if he went inside and scary ol’ Red Death was casually relaxing on his couch like Darkseid.

Later, McCann’s sitting in his sofa, drink in hand, listening to Billie Holliday on the stereo. We get a description of the room, and it’s nothing special. Sofa, coffee table, no TV. McCann believes in “simple comforts” but the real point is that he doesn’t have many valuable possessions because he moves around a lot, never staying in one place for long. Reminds me of a friend of mine. He said he had wanderlust, but I suspect he just didn’t know what he wanted to do in life, chasing one passion before getting distracted by another. Lost track of him somewhere down in Florida. McCann moves around for a very different reason, though. His wandering was necessary for his “complex scheme.”

But as he relaxes, he wonders if all his moving around and plotting is even worth it anymore.

At times, he wondered why he still bothered playing the game. So many of his kind no longer struggled. Some had plunged into the great unknown from which there was no return, while others had retreated from cruel reality into a dreamworld of their own creation. He was among a handful who continued fighting. In truth, the prize hardly seemed important any longer. It was the diversion that kept him amused.

The detective shook his head and finished his nightcap. He had engaged in this mental exercise a thousand times and never arrived at a satisfactory conclusion. He was like Ol’ Man River, ‘tired of living, but scared of dying.’ For those like himself, there were no easy answers. Just more questions.

McCann finishes his introspective episode and thinks about the group he learned the Red Death was part of thanks to his bullshit telepathy power; The Children of Dreadful Night. He’s never heard of them before, but the “Dreadful Night” part makes him suspect they’re a Gehenna cult. They’re typically groups of vampires who either want to prevent Gehenna or find a way to save themselves from the Antediluvians when it begins. Then there are the ones who want to help bring it about, but the narrative is focusing on the ones who fear Gehenna for one reason or other. Technically the Sabbat is one huge Gehenna cult, but they’re much more powerful and influential than the smaller groups the term usually refers to. More cults have been springing up lately.

As it did many mortals, the approaching end of the millennium frightened them.

Oh right, the Y2K bug. I doubt that’s calming the Kindred down either.

McCann used to think the cultists were just a bunch of fringe crazies, but now, with the Red Death...

Speaking of, remember when McCann used his brain probe on the Red Death and learned that he both recognized him and had a pretty awesome counter for his psychic powers? He’s worried about that too. It means that Red D. knows his true identity somehow. He’d kept a low profile the past few decades, presumably while separating his Dire McCann identity from whatever one he was using just before that, and preferred “to forward his schemes through unsuspecting agents.” Whatever those agents were doing, no one should have suspected McCann was involved.

He felt certain no evidence existed associating the human detective, Dire McCann, and Lameth, the Dark Messiah of the Kindred.

Wow, okay, so that’s one of the floweriest wannabe impressive not impressive fucking 90′s Image Comics titles you can give a shmuck like McCann. Not to mention redundant. We already had ~*~The Dark Angels~*~, did we also need ~*~The Dark Messiah~*~ too?

The funny thing is, I think Weinberg knew that title was over-the-top. Back when McCann was thinking about the Children of Dreadful Night, there’s a line about how “Kindred possessed a bizarre fondness for nicknames.” Like he thought that if he didn’t show at least a hint of irony, every nerd, geek, or corporate suit that worked on nerd and geek franchises would rise as one, like a perma-virgin hivemind, and institute a cross-genre ban on “The Dark” as part of a character’s title, rank, or nickname. And then where would vampire fiction be?

Shaking his head, McCann wondered if Anis was behind the attack. She was one of the few Kindred who knew many of his secrets. And, like him, she continued to plot, undaunted by the centuries.

Hold up. I know what you’re all thinking. Anis is a perfectly legit Arabic name. Quit giggling.

McCann considers the other weird things that happened last night. Ms. Young was genuinely terrified of the Red Death, convincing McCann that they weren’t working together, but he still believes she killed Tyrus Benedict, stole the Baba Yaga photos, and later stole his mail from his office. And there was that phone call he got, the one warning him of the attack before it happened, made from an out of service phone booth, whose information was erased from McCann’s recording devices the moment it ended. Or, as the narrative puts it:

Reality had twisted immediately after he received the warning, which hinted that an extremely potent mage was at work.

Oh great. Actual mages.

Then there’re the assassins. We already know that Makish hired them on the Red Death’s orders, but McCann doesn’t yet. 

He still has the billfold he pocketed from one of the assassins.

Except for the money he had removed earlier, it was absolutely empty. However, that didn’t mean that it couldn’t reveal secrets.

The detective rested the leather billfold on the coffee table. Placing both hands on it, he let loose the full power of his mighty will. The air wavered with titanic energies. Squeezing his eyes shut, McCann concentrated on a solitary word. Find.

Despite that whole thing about the air wavering with titanic energies, what he’s doing is most likely The Spirit’s Touch, a power from the third tier of the Auspex discipline, which let’s you use an object’s “resonance” to learn things about it and its owner. Pretty basic, and you don’t have to be a Dark Messiah from the dawn of time to use it, but handy for detective work like this.

This is also the second time that a Kindred discipline being used is described as someone using their “mighty will.” I know some powers were namedropped earlier, like Fires of the Inferno and Body of Fire, but it makes me wonder how many listed disciplines actually have names in-universe. If a player has their character activate Awe, in-universe does the character think “I’m using Awe, the first tier Presence power”? Or “I will extend my mighty will to get everyone’s attention”? Like how Superman’s laser vision is just called laser vision and not “Burning Gaze of Rao.” 

Not that Weinberg should’ve used the discipline name every time. “The detective used Auspex” would be much duller writing.

The detective learns that the billfold’s from Washington, D.C.  It was stolen from a government file clerk by the assassin, just so he’d have somewhere to keep the money McCann found in it. We learn about the Kindred’s political situation in Washington. The part of it that doesn’t involve the spreading gang wars.

The nation’s capital had long been a source of friction between the Camarilla and the Sabbat. Though the Camarilla controlled the city, both organizations had agents in the suburbs.

Must be like a cross between Desperate Housewives and Cannibal Holocaust out there. A bit of Weeds, too.

The constantly shifting population also brought in new Kindred. Each sect controlled politicians and lobbyists.

I always had my suspicions about the Long Pig Lobby.

However, the frequent changes in government officials thwarted their ambitions for absolute domination of the government.

That darned democracy, making life in Washington for the vampires inconvenient. Someone should do something abou- Actually, no, that joke doesn’t work. Certain officials come and go in the capital even faster nowadays.

The city was a potential battleground between the cults. The Camarilla held it, but Sabbat forces surrounded it. Sooner or later, warfare between the two groups was bound to explode.

McCann had carefully avoided the city. He disliked being too visible anyplace where the balance of power was in flux. He worked best when in the shadows. However, this assassination attempt hinted that perhaps he had made a mistake by ignoring the metropolis.

After much time spent thinking and thinking, the detective’s all thunk out and decides to go to bed. He mentally checks his magic defenses on the way to his bedroom. And one other thing.

With a wan smile, he rested one hand on a small, detailed sculpture resting on the end table in his bedroom. Carved from sandstone, it depicted a man’s face remarkably similar to his own. Not particularly large or impressive, the statue originally came from Egypt and was over four thousand years old. It had been with McCann for a very long time.

Did you get that Dire McCann is super old? Need it hammered in a little more? You dumb bastards?

If you got rid of that last sentence, this could be a nice little moment for McCann’s character. Him looking at the statue, briefly allowing himself to feel nostalgia for an age and people gone by. A moment where he drops the master schemer act and let’s the old man out. A little heartwarming. A little sad. But the last sentence turns it into another reminder of something we already know.

Eh, maybe I’m being too nitpicky. Looking too hard for flaws.

The detective grinned, remembering Flavia’s tale of Masqueraders. It was an entertaining fable. He wondered how she would react to the truth. Maybe, someday, he would tell her.

No, fuck it, this one I have something to say about.

Back when Flavia was explaining her “tale of Masqueraders,” this was how McCann reacted:

McCann laughed, trying to appear amused. “What utter nonsense.”

and

McCann forced himself to remain quiet. He had said too much already.

And when he’s back in his office, reflecting on his conversation with Flavia:

McCann, sitting behind his desk in his office an hour later, sighed heavily. The detective folded his arms across his chest. For all her grief, the Dark Angel had not stayed in mourning very long. He trusted Flavia not to reveal her suspicions to the Prince for as long as it suited her purposes, and not a second more. If not handled properly, the Dark Angel could prove to be as dangerous to him as the Red Death

Those aren’t the actions and thoughts of a guy who a few hours later would be thinking “Silly bitch, what an amusing fable. Maybe one day I’ll tell her what I really am.” That’s someone whose intimidated by what she knows, and wary of what she’ll tell her fifth-generation vampire boss.

Flavia said that Masqueraders are Methuselahs who possess mortal bodies while in torpor in order to experience life like a mortal again, while giving them some Kindred powers to protect them. McCann is secretly a Methuselah named Lameth, over four thousand years old and notable enough to earn a title like “The Dark Messiah.” We’re also told that his current body is mortal, aside from a few Kindred powers. A detail we’ll learn in a few chapters may complicate things, but for now the similarities are spot on, and back in Chapter Five McCann knew that.

Flavia may be the very definition of what feminist media critics call a Strong Female Character (i.e. a character whose presented as a well-written woman because she’s physically strong and capable of *gasp* holding her own against a man, but in the overall narrative is a satellite character revolving around a male character, often used as fanservice, a love interest, or a prize to be won despite her “strength”) and maybe it’s a leap of logic to get “secret ancient vampire” from a human who can stop one of her attacks, but she more or less figured McCann out, and he knows it. The detective shouldn’t get all haughty or dismissive now because she might not know every detail. Or because she doesn’t know he’s actually ~*~Lameth, the Dark Messiah of the Kindred~*~ and not Sven, the Socially Awkward Apostle of the Kindred. She got your number, dick.

Anyway, the smug bastard goes to sleep and the chapter ends.