#its so weird to simultaneously hate someone but also feel obligated to keep them happy

[cherryflavoredbutch]

im just really unhappy that this is my lot in life u know

[kamalbestbuy]

Better Habits

a Smile For Me fanfic

Relationship: Habismal (Habit + Kamal) Friendship

Genre: Hurt/comfort x2

Setting: either post-pacifist ending or post-neutral ending where only the kiss is given.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20501333

Who is he now? 'Boris Habit' doesn't seem to fit anymore. The peck of the florist had clearly traveled up, up, up to his nasty brain and planted seeds of clarity, yet he simultaneously finds himself more confused than he'd been in years.

So much time and effort dedicated to a faulty dream. His dream, his identity. All of it, his fault. But now he knows the best thing to do now is to accept his wrongs and try to make the world a better place despite himself.

Yes. That's what Boris Habit would do.

So why can't he find the will to move?

A noise draws his ears as soon as he thinks that and he slowly moves his gaze toward the sight of familiar shoes and pants. The footsteps don't stutter or hesitate in their path to where Habit's slumped against a wall.

Well, it did make sense for Kamal to keep an eye on the kid that stayed behind, and the sound of Martha's chugging is noticeably gone too.

After the kid had headed straight to his elevator, Habit figured there had to have been a plan proposed by the only one who knows how to access his office and wasn't stuck behind a hole. For all the fretting that came from the guy, Kamal has always struck him as more grounded than him.

Kamal is so smart and kind.

Kamal is so close by. No more footsteps.

The dentist takes a deep breath and finally looks up at his face.

His arms are crossed. The image of the stern-slash-nervous assistant brings on a wave of nostalgic fondness. Almost painful in light of everything happening between them. However, there was one thing that surprises Habit, and that's Kamal's eyes.

"How do you feel?"

No glaring. Weary and critical, but nothing as hard as hate.

"Also, do you like, still feel aligned with the Habitat's purpose at all?"

"No, not at all." Tears are budding at the corners of the dentist’s eyes. "But, Kamal... why does someone like you want to talk to me instead of, say, running away as soon as you turned Martha off?"

Kamal nods. "Well, I figured you’d change your mind, though it wouldn’t hurt to hear it in your own words... but that didn't answer my first question, Habit. I'll answer yours later."

Assertiveness from a nervous assistant… he deserves that. Right. 

Habit's eyelids droop to a close.

"I feel stretched apart to the seams,” he whispers. “I do not know what parts of me to care about, which to throw away and which to keep. Who I should be."

"That… is very vague."

Unbeknownst to Habit, Kamal fiddles with the bottom of his shirt despite the stern tone he kept. "Can you elaborate?"

"I don't know. It's like... I wasted many years to a bad cause. So if I now want to “make up” for lost efforts, I should want to act more like the florist since that helps create smiles, yes? Yet I'm so tired. I want to leave it up to them." Habit brings his knees up to his chest and lowers his head without much effort. Sleep creeps closer the more he thinks about what's causing the hole in his chest.

There's a pause in the conversation as Kamal thinks it over. 

Suddenly the two men startle and glance toward the direction of the elevator as it chirrups its arrival back up. They exchange wide-eyed looks. 

"O-oh." Kamal clears his throat. "I pressed the button in preparation before coming in."

Right. The kid's definitely gone by now. Now there's just a criminal dentist and a heroic assistant.

The strange situation coupled with said criminal dentist's vulnerable expression seems to get to Kamal and he snorts. 

Then sighs.

"You... say you aren't feeling up to your evil deeds anymore," comes a reply as he goes to lean against the wall next to his former boss.

"That's good. But, Habit... you were venting. Like. A long drawn out vent to someone whose quarter-set of teeth you yanked out just a few moments ago. And then you say you don't want to help people just 'cause you think you're not up to the job. Those facts sound seriously bad, so I-I'm telling you 'cause I hope they'd sunk in."

Habit flinches. He hadn't even noticed about the venting, it had all spilled out of him without much push. A sudden dread propels a whirlwind of thoughts to clutter his mind, all with the theme of 'maybe the horrible-ness is ingrained too deeply at this point and I'll keep hurting people's smiles'. 

He couldn't nor wouldn't defend his actions, nor could he remove the word-blocking lump in his throat. So. Just a nod.

"Buuut... hey, look at me you big lug."

The dentist reluctantly obeys.

Kamal stares at him, then gives the whole room a brief glance (resting heavily on the 'No Hitting' posters) before coming back to bore into Habit himself. "But. You acknowledge you aren't free of guilt and said you'd commit to getting better, and that's also a thing. Plus, evil-you did have the sense to administer anaesthetics, and you did help put their teeth back in place… somehow. Thank god for your mushiness."

With a shaky finger, Habit sweeps a tear away. "S-so, then, I'm not going bad again?"

"Nah, you're not perfect but the apology I overheard sounds about fine. Your plan to betterment sounds about right to a non-expert like me, though even if it's not it's still a definite step in the right direction. You've got opportunities to correct it anyway. A-and... it's fine to want to get away from all this for a while, so much went down and you deserve a rest. Physically and emotionally."

Kamal's grin is small and shaky, yet in Habit’s eyes it lights up the room. "That's a... 'healthy'? 'Heroic'--no, 'happiness'. A Happiness Fact."

Too overwhelmed to speak, Habit comes up close and--lending ample time for the other to move away--hesitantly pulls the shorter man into a firm hug. A muffled squeak burrows into his thick coat.

Fireworks go off in his chest. Oh, Kamal. So small and worried yet so brave and grounded. Flower Kid had been the same, too... they're beyond good friends to him and he'll do his BEST to help them and his head is spinning with every good thing he could possibly say about them ever, but for now Habit just loosens his hug, taps Kamal's shoulder, and gazes into those questioning eyes as he says,

"It's called a Happiness Fakt."

"That's what I said?" A laugh spills out, lilted high in what Habit recognises as relief.

Well, of course--that shouldn't be a surprise to him. His assistant is brave, but in the end Kamal was still confronting an unstable jerk after so much time trying to avoid him.

"Um." Kamal's amusement sobers curiously quick when he sees the dentist giving him a tender look. "So... a-and of course you've gotta apologise to the habiticians, which I can make time for helping you with if necessary. Though you'll probably do fine."

'Wait', Habit thinks. 'Before that though. Before all of that.'

He acts without thinking, abruptly pulling away from the embrace. Only to kneel and hold the other's hands in his, to Kamal's visible shock.

"I should've said this before hugging you. I'm deeply sorry for the hurtful things I did and said to you, and I wouldn't mind helping you when I can. Thank you for sticking with me despite it all, Kamal."

Kamal's body turns to stone with the exception of his gaze flitting back and forth from his hands to Habit's.

"W... wow, look at you, being on your path to virtuous living... by the way, you knelt down so fast that your hat fell. S'right there."

A nervous energy radiates from him as he turns away to take the hat off the floor, then faces the dentist with a faraway frown.

His fingers caress the leather brim of the hat thoughtfully. "I appreciate the apology, doctor. Honestly, I... don't think I can accept it yet? Though that doesn't change my decision ‘cause I've been believing that you've got good intentions, it’s just that the methods for those intentions are weird and downright violent. Manipulative and, and… well. Fuckin' scary."

Habit looks away, propping up a neutral but not un-kind expression.

"But now that you're trying to get better my belief is confirmed... that florist led you to the right path, something I now want to help with too. So it makes sense to 'stick' with you... or at least to check on you constantly. If I can somehow make your recovery smoother."

"Call me Boris."

Blinking slowly, Kamal locks eyes with the other man. "I... Whah?"

Boris has a tiny beam on his face and a painful yet good feeling in his heart. "I swear that I'm not taking your feelings or the gravity of what I did lightly and I'll try harder to show that. I... I get now, that I made you frightened of speaking your mind. It must have taken much of your determination to do what you did, and that's unfair because you're allowed to be against me! Because anybody would be a hundred percent justified in not forgiving me. Or even just helping me, you're not obligated to do that at all. Thank you.

"See, even now you've helped so much." He lets out a weary chuckle. It's Kamal's turn to look away this time. "Yet I've been calling you by your first name for so long… you deserve my first name at this point! Especially if you'll be around."

Kamal doesn't instantly reply, once again deep in thought. His furrowed expression isn't one of hurt, distrust, or anything bad as far as Boris can make out. Hopefully.

He straightens up and once again glances toward the elevator's direction. 

"You’ve done great," Boris repeats.

Actually, he's still lost in a way. He doesn't know what matters most about the person he is, should, or will be. Or what he'll do to help the world.

And to know he isn't forgiven hurts like a dagger, even if he himself doesn’t forgive his actions yet--it makes him wonder who else won't forgive him.

However... the future feels more tangible now. Almost like he could make it out of the dreary present without crashing and burning. He could ask about himself later when he's got energy for a conversation like that. And he won't run away from his issues, not with Kamal, the Flower Kid, and several others Boris could ask help from. Even if he doesn't know who the others will be yet.

Plus, not being forgiven doesn't mean he can't find help! Even if Kamal and the others can't or - justifiably - won't help him later on, there's others that can. Boris gently takes his hat while still wearing a smile, his lightheartedness rising as Kamal's face slowly begins to ease up too.

The old Habit spiralled down thinking he was the only person who could bring about his dream. One last big mistake if he could help it.

"See you later, Kamal."

"...I mean, I'm going down too, Boris you dummy.'' Kamal snorts again, shaking his head as he walks past Boris to the elevator. A corner of his mouth is quirked upward. "Let's go together, yeah?"

There's laughter bubbling in his chest as he goes after Kamal. 

"Of course! :-)"

[timetoresurface]

EXCHANGE / JJK (1)

to give something and receive something of the same kind in return

Note: Something I’ve been dreaming about lately. I really took my time to write this and didn’t rush anything. The beginning is more natural than the last thing I started. I’ve already written ahead this time so more is yet to come. Show some love and don’t hesitate to criticize. @erisann is definitely an angel in disguise helping me getting better, so a little shout out to her for being so nice to me, I really appreciate it :)

Pairing: reader x Jungkook

Genre: romance, non idol AU

Warnings: none

Word count: 2250 words

PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / PART 5 / PART 6 / PART 7

Summary: Yes, you are an exchange student. You noticed EF also organized trips to Seoul and you wanted something different than the same five people in your hometown. You came to the beautiful city to learn and relax, most definitely not to fall in live with one of the teachers. Definitely not the young extracurricular teacher who seemed to be good at everything.

*Y/N = your name *Y/C = your city/country

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Hi! I’m Y/N and I’m from Y/C.” You said. Introductions were made and you were the last one to go. “I don’t really have any hobby’s except for my love of k-drama’s and feeding my never-ending craving to learn new things.” All eyes were on you so a little blush crept over your face, nevertheless you continued with a confident smile. “I’m someone who loves to try new things but actually never finishes them as my obsessions are usually quite short-lived.” This was yourself in a nutshell. Nothing special, just an ordinary girl with a passion for life and all it has to offer.

“Thank you for charing Y/N. Now allow me to introduce myself.” The teacher spoke in a very strict tone and to be honest, it kind of scared you. You were going to stay here for five weeks and if the classes weren’t going to be fun, half of your trip would feel like a chore. There was nothing you hated more than obligations. Life was supposed to be enjoyable and any burden was too much. The teacher, you learned, was a forty year old man with a happy family. He loved to teach his language and its ways to foreign people as they have the same spark in their eyes as when children are learning something new. His own introduction was cut short due to someone rudely opening the door without knocking. 

“I’m sorry for being late.” He loudly closed the door and you expected him to take the last seat in the classroom. Instead you were taken by surprise when he went to shake the hand of your teacher and awkwardly stayed next to him. He couldn’t be a teacher, he was far too young to be one and definitely far too handsome. The last part being demonstrated by half of the girls in your class suddenly sitting up straight with a very excited look. All this commotion because of a pretty boy with pretty brown hair and pretty brown eyes. Your typical boy next door. 

“I’m Jungkook and I will be your extracurricular activity guide. I’ll teach you things like dancing, cooking and Korean calligraphy. I’m really excited to get to know all of you better and help improve your Korean along the way.” He concluded his little speech with a crooked smile that seemed to leave some girls without breath. You couldn’t really disagree with the fact that he was extremely good-looking but it was all a little too perfect. A handsome Korean boy with big brown eyes on an all-round pleasing face. His body clothed in all black was equally attractive, but deceptive. He mastered the lethal combination of a friendly face mixed with a bad boy attitude showing through his clothes. It felt like he had jumped out of a cheap romance novel someone would leave behind because of the lack off sex scenes or because of the awkwardness of the virgin writer trying to write an intimate chapter.

“After class you can register for extra courses of your choosing at the information desk. I’ll be there waiting for you.” The girl next to you had troubles keeping her breathing steady and you silently laughed. Women were so easily tricked. You had learned that lesson a long time ago and weren’t really willing to walk that path again.

“If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask them.” Jungkook was handing out some papers with extra information about his activities and if there were extra costs involved. When he handed you one of his brochures, his eyes locked with yours. You tried to remain calm and unbothered but deep down your heart wanted to skip a beat. He seemed more affected as the apples of his cheeks turned into the prettiest of pinks. 

“There are some interesting activities recommended to get the best experience of Seoul while you’re here.” These were his last words before he bowed and excited the room rather quickly. Nobody said a word as most of us were charmed by the young Korean, even the few men in your class. Luckily your teacher remained unaffected and simply continued introducing hangul. 

**

You hadn’t spend time in a classroom in a very long time and it showed. Everyone knew how to listen and take notes simultaneously  while you struggled opening the new pen you had recently bought. You could say you were delighted to hear the last bell that marked the end of the planned day and the start of whatever you wanted it to be. Everyone rushed outside and you could take a guess where they were going. They all went toward the information desk in pairs of two and you couldn’t help but feel a bit left out. It was only day two in Seoul and the fact that you hadn’t made any friends yet didn’t trouble you. It just didn’t feel right. You wanted to apply for every extra trip there was but some of them would be more fun with a friend by your side. You seated yourself in the sunlight while reading the paper Jungkook had given you a few hours ago. Some of these were worth thinking about. A weekend trip to Busan, Lotte world, a cruise on Han river, a trip to Jeju Island, to only name a few. The most difficult decision to make was between Busan and Jeju Island as you could only choose one of the two.

“Have you already decided what extra activities you might be interested in?” His voice interrupted your thoughts but you tried not to show.

“No, how can someone choose between Jeju Island and Busan? How do you expect us to decide?” You easily confided. His eyes glistered in the sunlight all the while his face remained serious. 

“Can I sit with you for a while?” He asked you, ignoring your question. You simply nodded your head as annoyance was creeping in your system like a bad virus. Once he was seated next to you on the grass and your legs almost touched he decided to answer your question. “I can not choose for you but I can tell you what I’m more excited about.” An awkward silence was shared between the two of you.

“Please go on.” It felt like he had waited for your spoken permission to continue.

“I am from Busan and I haven’t been back home in over a year. Even after more than a year here in roaring Seoul, I can never forget Busan and the waves crawling gently to the shore. I don’t know if there is a place like that outside Korea, but I can assure you that it will be worth it, you know.” The annoyance you felt before was replaced by sympathy but stirred with a bit of hesitance. Without him realizing, he was already breaking a few walls you had build around yourself. You noticed the wrinkles underneath his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead that made him look a tad bit older. Something inside of you wanted to get to know his motives and reasons for the life he chose.

“Why did you leave?” The question came out as a silent whisper almost blown away by the soft spring breeze. He didn’t look at you and you secretly missed his stare on you.

“I wanted to do something for myself, I guess.” His hand pushed back his brown hair while his eyes squinted trying to look at the sun.

“Most girl here are probably grateful for you choosing this job and Seoul over your beloved hometown.” The remark was made with a giggle and Jungkook laughed too. You would describe his laughter as warm and hearty. People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth, but when Jungkook laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh was in his eyes.

“Most girls? Why not all?” He asked with a huge grin plastered on his face. Or maybe his laugh came from within, maybe it was just the way he was wired that humor was just so easy for him to understand and respond to.

“Some girls think you should do whatever makes you happy, even if they don’t get to see your beautiful face around here anymore.” You quickly stood up as the embarrassment started to settle in after calling him beautiful. “I shall register myself for some activities and I shall keep your advise in mind. Please stay and enjoy the sun.” You quickly excused yourself.

**

“So Y/N, I heard you had a private conversation with the handsome extra activities teacher.” The girl next to you remarked. Your class decided to bond together and not separately so now you were all having dinner somewhere in Seoul. You were all seated together at a round table and the drinks were flowing.

“He just asked me if I had already registered for any trips.” It was the simple truth but everyone seemed a bit disappointed. “But he is handsome so I might have missed a few of his sentences.” You quickly added and this got their attention back.

“Well, Amalia, it seems like we will lose. His heart has already been captured by this beautiful creature next to me. How unfair, she’s pretty and she gets the pretty boy.” Agate, the girl next to you, definitely had a bit too much to drink but the compliments were heartwarming.

“Oh no, but maybe she doesn’t want the pretty boy.” The girl named Amelia said slurring her words a bit. This conversation was getting a bit too weird for your liking.

“No, you girls can have him. Now please excuse me, I have to go to the restroom.” Right after your words the girls shrieked and took another shot out of pure happiness. 

After you had returned from your little break you deliberately seated yourself a bit further away from the shrieking twins. This act didn’t go unnoticed by some of your fellow students.

“I thought American girls were supposed to hold their liquor, or am I wrong?” The person who spoke was a British dude with dyed blonde hair. You took a sip from your drink before speaking.

“I think Americans always like to pretend to be good at everything. Image is everything, I guess.” The boy sure had a nice vibe going on. The blonde hair cupping his face just perfectly and bringing out the blue of his eyes.

“I prefer being good at drinking as it brings people closer. A lot closer than just having a good image.” His words started to slur but the twinkle in his eyes had gotten brighter.

“I prefer being a good drinker. My trade mark, you know, as my image.” The words were coming out slower than your usual quick witted self was so known for. There definitely is something in this Korean liquor that made you go drunk a little bit faster. The conversation with Alfie continued and you weren’t sure if you really got wittier as the evening wore on or if it was just the effect of the liquor making everything seem so much funnier.

You all struggled home together. The shrieking twins were behind telling everyone they loved them, you were clinging onto Alfie’s arm laughing uncontrollably and the others, well, they were also in bad shape. If anyone made it on time to class tomorrow they deserved a medal, and you weren’t going to get one, that was for sure.

“Byebye.” You waived them all goodbye as they struggled getting up the stairs. Luckily for you you didn’t need to struggle with unnecessary steps. No, your room was on the ground floor. But the only problem was to locate the correct room and this task proved to be more difficult than first anticipated. You tried to enter your room code but none of the doors opened. They only gave a red light meaning it was the wrong door or wrong passcode. 

**

After a trillion tries, or that’s how it felt, you seated yourself on the floor. It didn’t take long for your face to touch the cold floor, trying to cool you. You felt the wet hot tears fill up your eyes, your throat closed tight. Finally the tears split over and flowed down your face like a river escaping a dam. 

It felt like hours of you sitting there crying all alone in the dark. You barely noticed a door being opened. You barely felt his hands wiping away the tears that were still running down your face. And you definitely didn’t recognize the boy who the brown eyes belonged to due to the tears still streaming out of the corners of your eyes. He lifted you up so you sat up straight with your back against the wall while he squatted before you still wiping away the tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Hey, what is wrong? What happened?” His eyes showed the kind of gentle concern your mother used to have when you had fallen from your bike. He rested his hand on your shoulder and you let him.

���Korean drinks are dangerous.” Was the only coherent thing you could think of saying. A smile grew on his face as he finally understood the situation. You weren’t hurt, or maybe a little because you did fall of Alfie’s back while he tried to piggy back ride you out of the bar, but Jungkook didn’t know that of course. 

“You can’t find your room?” He whispered softly and you simply nodded your head. 

“I’m not even sure if I have a room. I tried them all and none opened.” You said while closing your eyes. You were getting sleepy as the alcohol was starting to wear off, leaving you with a headache and swollen eyes.

“I don’t know where your room is but I don’t think it is on the ground floor as only people who work here have a small studio.” His explanation made so much sense as all your fellow students had taken the stairs. You tried to hide your embarrassed face with your hands but he quickly grabbed your hands.

“I have a very comfy sofa where you can sleep on tonight and tomorrow I’ll discretely find out where your room is. Sounds like a plan?” From deep inside your chest, through every cell of your body, the warmth welcomed you like an old friend. But it was strange, because you never felt that way before. It kinda scared you, you know? Feeling the cold slowly leaving your heart or maybe it was because of the alcohol you saw a halo hovering above his head. Whatever it was, this boy charmed you more than you liked to admit.

Your eyes were getting heavy again and you could feel Jungkook helping you up and guiding you toward his apartment. He apologized for the mess but you didn’t care as long as you could lay your head on something soft. As long you could fall asleep to the sound of his worrying voice and the smell of his fabric softener, you didn’t mind a single thing. A blanked was draped over you and your shoes were taken but you were already gone to the land of dreams. Zzz

[stilljumpingback]

(via Black Sails Episode 309 - XXVII)

WELL-FORMED THOUGHTS

We’ve been circling themes of leadership and darkness this whole season (and series, honestly), and in Flint’s warning/welcome to Silver, we are explicitly told the connection between the two.

Flint:  I’d hazard the guess that you learned of what had happened, told him how fucking stupid he was, and in that moment, he gave you a look that amounted to something less than contrite.  And in that moment, you felt it. Silver:  Felt what? Flint:  Darkness.  Hate.  Showing indifference to the authority that you sacrificed so much to acquire, disdain for refusing to acknowledge that his actions, had you not intervened, would have led to an outcome that he would have held you responsible for reversing.  Pride.  Questioning what kind of man you are if you don’t seek retribution for the offense.

This sounds a lot like Madi’s analogy of the heavy crown.  Flint knows about the crown, but in contrast to Madi, who has been supported by family and community, Flint knows what it is to bear that crown alone.  He knows what it is to carry an enormous weight, and to resent everyone around him for not seeing it, respecting it, acknowledging it.  And he knows that in his worst moments, he can act out of that resentment.

Flint believes that the darkness isn’t inherently wrong, but he knows that one must have control over it, and not the other way around.  This is where Madi’s analogy of the tether is so important.  In order to endure the darkness, it is essential to have someone with you, supporting you, aware of the heavy crown and its costs.

This whole show is about the power of partnerships, huh?  God, it’s so beautiful.

FRAGMENTED THOUGHTS

“It is not the treasure that concerns me most.  Charles Vane’s sacrifice is in that box.  If your man is unsuccessful in seeing to his rescue, Charles Vane’s death is inside that box.  Along with my good name.  Along with her lost love. Along with your late quartermaster’s life.  All the awful sacrifices made to assemble that box are now part of its contents, and those things are sacred things that I trust in no man’s hands.”

The weight of what they’ve all done is settling in on everyone, and that’s before one of our major characters is executed.

The scene between Eleanor and Vane is so good because these two know exactly how best to hurt each other.  Eleanor calls Vane a coward, and Vane tells Eleanor she isn’t loved.  As has always been the case, they’re simultaneously so wrong and so right.  They see some things about each other so clearly, but they are utterly blind to other things.  As they began, so they end:  as a tragedy.

Eleanor’s speech to Vane is the perfect summation of how civilization justifies their demeaning hatred of pirates.

“You’re not a man.  You’re deformed.  Unformed.  Flesh, bone, and bile, and missing all that which takes shape through a mother’s love.  You cannot comprehend what you took from me or why it was good, because there is no goodness in you.  There is no humanity in you, no capacity for compromise, nor instinct toward repair, nor progress, nor forgiveness.  You are an animal.”

Woodes Rogers is bedridden with the Nassau disease that is taking down his soldiers, which is a very reminder that even the island itself is trying to expel the English.

Eleanor is motivated by revenge, but I believe she also genuinely wants to move beyond both Vane and her hatred of him.  “There is no leaving it behind, but I’m ready to move forward.”

Featherstone and Idelle riding in a carriage together makes me very happy.

Billy’s job is to make people give a shit, but am I alone in thinking this is a very weird job for him to latch onto?  He’s never been good at convincing anyone of anything, as Flint and Silver consistently and effectively walk all over his concerns.  Am I not giving our tall boy enough credit?

I LOVE seeing the reunion of families on Maroon Island.  It’s no wonder Flint regained his desire to live and fight after meeting them – this is the homeland he’s so long envisioned creating.

Madi:  I stood in Nassau, and I realized when this war begins, it will have many different meanings.  But to you this war is a civil war between two cities you held together for so long with unseen bonds.  You will have people on both sides of it.  You will have daughters on both sides of it.  And I want you to know– Mr. Scott:  Only you.

This is SO SWEET and makes me cry, but I can’t help but feel sorry for Eleanor.  Vane’s accusations of no one really loving her are not untrue.  She’s never felt secure in anyone’s love, because everyone who has loved her has had multiple obligations.  But I’m making this lovely scene into a white woman’s pain.  More importantly:  How wonderful for Madi to have her father’s full support, and for them to have this moment together before he died.

Mrs. Mapleton tells Max that Idelle is the spy, but she won’t tell Eleanor because she believes Eleanor is self-destructive, implying Max is not.  “Some people can only understand themselves through the eyes of those who hate them.”  God, this episode is really making me feel sad for Eleanor.

Eleanor says she doesn’t care what anyone thinks about her except for Woodes Rogers, which begs the question: why him?  She barely knows him.  But I think that’s exactly the reason.  She has idealized him to the point that she subconsciously believes he represents everything:  civilization, stability, hope.  If she can earn his approval, then she will feel that everything she has done has been worth it.

Flint:  The more you deny its [darkness] presence, the more powerful it gets, and the more likely it is to consume you entirely without you ever even knowing it was there.  Now, if you and I are to lead these men together, you must learn to know its presence well so that you may use it rather than it use you. Silver:  You have some experience with this, I imagine, living in fear of such a thing within you? Flint:  Yeah, I do. Silver:  I can’t tell if this was a warning or a welcome.

It’s BOTH, because that’s what a partnership is:  Thank God there’s someone here with me, now let’s help each other get out.

Silver comforting Madi after Mr. Scott’s death is very sweet.

Max tries very hard to caution Eleanor that the people of Nassau tolerate England’s presence because they’re given security and order.  The second she takes away that order, people will question why they should keep England around.  But Eleanor just wants this all DONE, blinding herself to the possible consequences.

Lambrick visits Vane, which will be an entire post for my theology section soon!

Vane refuses to be enslaved, even to fear of death.

“These men who brought me here today do not fear me.  They brought me here today because they fear you.  Because they know that my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you.  And may yet still.  They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice.  But know this:  We are many.  They are few.  To fear death is a choice, and they can’t hang us all.  Get on with it, motherfucker.”

Wow.  Just, wow.  I hate that Vane died, but what a way to die.

Vane looks into Eleanor’s eyes and walks off the cart to his death.  Even in death, they are playing a game of who wins, and clearly Eleanor’s “victory” doesn’t feel very sweet.

Mr. Scott also dies, though in contrast to Vane, he is surrounded by people who love and honor him.  …Also Jack, who takes the opportunity to further his ambitions by requesting command of the ship Vane would have led in the upcoming battle.

Flint snarkily saying, “All struggles are uphill, that’s why they’re called struggles” gives me life!

Other people talking about Flint’s brilliance is my kink.

“He wants the force you bring to bear, he wants it.  I know this enemy, Commodore.  I know his mind.  He took that cache with the express purpose of compelling us to commit your force to a battlefield of his choosing.  Your force is factored into his thinking.  He has planned for it.  And I assure, you, if you allow him to dictate the terms of battle, you court a disastrous outcome.”

My heart continues to break at shots of Eleanor and Flint staring across the sea at each other, enemies now instead of partners.

And then Teach finds out that Vane is dead, and my heart officially shatters.

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall

http://bit.ly/2Ac9EJp Cataloged in Creepy / Scary Stories Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall Grant Butler Updated October 16, 2018 0 Malls. The heart of any community is its shopping mall; it reflects the pulse of the area. By that definition, my hometown of Pinewood, Pennsylvania has all but flat-lined. Around here we have the Pine Grove Mall. Less than 20 years ago, Pine Grove was hopping. Everyone in the county would shop here. Restaurants would spring up like weeds and would grow just as fast. But that is just a dim memory anymore. People younger than I am only know Pine Grove as an abandoned old cluster of buildings with a thick layer of graffiti painted across dull grey walls. It could easily be a set background for The Walking Dead or something. Sadly, I’m not sure a zombie apocalypse would look much different. The people around here have gone the same way as the mall; from bright and exuberant to dull, lifeless, and bleak. Heroin is absurdly high here. I swear, the only people making any big money around here anymore are the dealers. Which was how I found myself at the old Mall last week. Being one of the town’s sheriff deputies means I know this town like the back of my hand. We’d been getting steady reports from locals about weird activity at the mall. Nothing new there. Kids loved to sneak in there on dares and to drink, smoke, get to second base, the usual. We usually took these reports with a grain of salt, but lately, there had been more calls than usual, so we were obliged to look into it. Walking up to the entrance, my breath came out in a cloud. Time to be on the lookout, because odds were good that there was probably some homeless guy in there or something. There is something inherently unsettling about abandoned public buildings. Perhaps it’s because you can’t help but imagine them bustling with visitors, you can sometimes feel the hustle and bustle of the past. But then you see the reality and it doesn’t look natural. Walking to the padlocked front double door, I got a closer look at the graffiti on the door. Even if I hated the sight of it, I couldn’t deny some of it was impressive. There was something inherently captivating about its raw pain, it just screamed out at the observer. After unwinding the chain and padlock, the front doors whined slightly as I opened them as quietly as I could. Stepping onto the cracked glazed floor of the entryway, I caught the damp bitter smell of mold invading the area, the scent mingling with that still lingering department store smell. That synthetic smell you automatically associate with corporate retail. Taking great care to shut the door partially behind me, I slowly crept inside, my narrow flashlight dancing on the surfaces ahead of me. It felt far chillier in here now. I didn’t like being here. Not one bit. The Pine Grove Mall had two levels. One was the entryway floor, which was technically the building’s second level. From the outside, you could see how the place was built on a quarry. Once inside, visitors could descend via escalator or elevator to the ground floor. Taking great care not to stumble on the escalator steps, I descended down onto the ground floor. It was filthy down here. Garbage strewn everywhere you looked. The only light besides my flashlight was from the occasional skylight above. Putting on hand on my gun in case I needed to protect myself, I walked forward. The air felt different here, denser. Every step I took forward, I felt like there were shadows moving on the walls. But every time I looked, it was nothing. Repressing that voice in the back of my head that told me to get out, I scanned the place. No homeless anywhere. All around me, the old vendors and stores were silent. I was just about to turn around and go back when I smelled it. A faint smell of smoke coming from what used to be Sears. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The old saying never felt more real; there was smoke, so there had to be fire. Turning off my flashlight, I crept around, taking great care to look around corners. Nothing. But I realized that the smoke was coming from the basement. Drawing in a deep breath, I silently walked down the stairs. The smoke thickened as I did. Most of the time, fire is a pleasant smell. Something about it is natural, inherently cleansing and earthy. This was anything but. It had a bitter, angry tinge to it. Sort of like how chemically induced fires smell different. The smell was noxious and heavy. Great, that meant whoever was down here was probably burning something they shouldn’t. Fucking meth heads. Doing my best to control the tightening in my chest, I inched forward. As I approached the door to the basement, I could see the outlines of a fire through a crack in the door. But just as I was thinking about how to deal with the situation, I stopped dead in my tracks. This was no small time drug deal, at least not one that I had ever seen. Peering through a small hole in the wall a few feet away, I could make out the shape of at least five figures. I had no idea what they were doing, but I knew it wasn’t good. People making meth was looking pretty good compared to whatever the fuck this was. There were five people that I could see, each tall and lean in build. Also identical was their attire; black hooded jackets, black pants, and the masks. The masks were those cheap costume store ones; milk white and expressionless. Just remembering them now gives me the creeps. I crouched there, simultaneously transfixed and alarmed by the sight. I could hear faint murmuring coming from the room, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t see what exactly they were doing. The only other thing in the room seemed to be medium sized crates, stacked against the far side of the wall. I felt like I was a kid again, secretly watching adults doing something that I didn’t understand, but I knew wasn’t good. Right then, I heard the sounds of scuttling from behind me. Even now, I am amazed I didn’t yell out or anything at that moment. With a rapid glance behind me, I saw it was a rat. My hand tightly gripping the butt of my gun, I forced myself to calm down a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping that they wouldn’t hear it and investigate. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice. A few moments later, I saw something. In the glint from the fire, I noticed one of them was wearing a ring. A gold ring with a sapphire in the center, a custom job. I know because I’d seen it before. It was typically worn on the finger of Seth Lang; one of the towns more prominent citizens, a member of city council and one of the town’s few people of means left. Looking at the figure now, I could see he had a similar build to Mr. Lang. Want to know what the most disturbing thing of all was? I wasn’t even surprised. In a place like Pinewood, gossip tends to spread quicker than a forest fire, and gossip about Lang wasn’t good. I had never met the guy myself, but I knew people who had, and they all told me the same thing. He always made them feel uneasy. Seeing this, I knew what they meant. Believe me, I have seen more than my fair share of bad. But this was different. I don’t think I have ever felt so small before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. Smelling whatever that was they were burning, it stung my nose. Perhaps it was drug-related after all. Either way, it was time to make my leave. Every move I took made me hold my breath, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be seen or heard. Part of me didn’t want to take my eyes off the door as I left, so I did my best to look back and forth repeatedly. The air got mercifully clearer with each step I took. Internally, I was screaming “Get the hell out of there!” But fortunately, I was still in work mode and I knew I had to keep my head and stay quiet. No use running if it got me shot. Or worse. I didn’t know how many of them were here, so best to stay incognito. If possible, I felt even more terrified than when I first arrived. Every shadow I passed, I thought I could see the shape of the blank white mask lumbering towards me in the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I made it the door I came in through. Casting a glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I stepped into the cold night air. I had no idea what to do. As I walked back to my car, I couldn’t believe I actually saw that; whatever that was. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. Well, It was also at that point when I felt the most fear. Something about the wide open space made me feel exposed, not to mention the dim but still operational light. Every step made me think that it might be the last before someone or something jumped me. When got back in my car, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to be back in a vehicle in my life. I felt like I was on the run from a rabid dog; something just aching to rip me to bits. Shoving my key into the ignition, I hastily started my car. I took care to get out of there quickly, but not so much that I made a bunch of noise. Looking around myself on every side, I was still alone. “Calm down,” I told myself out loud in the solitude of my car. But as you might imagine, that was easier said than done in this case. From a professional standpoint, I had nothing to report that was illegal. At best, all I saw was loitering or trespassing, with no way to know who it was for sure. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. But that was my head talking. My instinct was screaming “Shady!” over and over. This was the worst part of my job. When I knew something was up, but there was nothing I could do about it but wait. Backup was a no go either. By the time they got here, whoever was down there might be gone. I decided that last word sounded amazing, so I kept on driving. When I got home, I felt the crushing silence. The sound had never before sounded so real—like a state of existence. Out of paranoia, I peered through my window blinds every few moments, only to find nothing there. Keeping my weapon handy, I went to bed. Sleep was not to be had, as I spent the rest of the night staring up at my ceiling fan. After dragging myself out of bed a few hours later, I went to work like I would normally. I felt simultaneously exhausted and wired. After sitting down at my desk with a massive coffee, I began to fill out some routine paperwork. As usual, the scent of stale Chinese food lingered in the air. I decided to file paperwork saying that I had seen nothing at the abandoned mall. But that was a task for the end of the day. I was at work for about two hours when my boss called me into his office. “Adam, I need you for a second,” Sheriff Hammond summoned me in his low, gruff voice. I always admired the man, because despite his job, I had yet to hear him raise his voice at anyone. A tall, slight man, he had these piercing black eyes. Being a former sergeant in the Marine Corps, no one in town would dare mess with the guy. The fact that he was my boss was one of the few things that helped me stay calm. I was at the safest place in town here. “Yes, Sheriff?” I stood in front of his desk expectantly as he reclined casually in his chair with his feet up on the messy surface. “The anniversary of the town’s founding is coming up and they are having the usual shindig. Was wondering if you’d mind working the street festival.” “Sure thing, no problem boss.” “Good man. Oh and by the way. What happened last night?” I froze on the spot, unsure of what to say. I could lie about what happened to anyone else in town, but not the Sheriff. I swear the man could smell a lie quicker than a snake smells prey. “Well Sheriff,” I began hesitantly. “I don’t know what exactly I saw.” He took his feet off the desk and was studying me. “All I know is it looked creepy as hell.” “You saw those bastards too huh?” he asked as if it were the most routine thing in the World. I could feel my jaw drop as I just stared at him. But that was the typical Jake Hammond. The man didn’t flinch at anything. “How did you,” I began to ask before he interrupted me. “My boy, I know this place like the back of my hand. There is a lot of shady things that go on here that I know of, but for a lot of reasons, I can’t do anything about. It’s not that I’m afraid. Not by a long shot. It’s because I know who and what I’m up against. A lot of boys over the years have taken calls just like that one. Most never return. Know why?” “No,” I couldn’t believe it was possible, but I felt even more afraid than last night. “Because those mask-wearing assholes always get them. Not with bullets. Well, most of the time they don’t. No, they use something more dangerous; bribes. Drugs, money, women, booze, whatever. Know what happens once they turn them?” “No,” “They put them to use. For something. Occasionally it’s just to look the other way on something. Other times, well, let’s just say there’s a reason why turnover here is so high. Every time there is a call out to that place, I keep a close eye on whoever goes out and how they act after. You, my boy, are different than the rest. You know it’s bad news. So tell me, who do you think was there?” “I think one was Seth Lang.” “Good man. Lang is the ringleader. Slimy little prick. Had my eye on him for quite a while now. He’s dirty.” “What exactly is it they do?” The Sheriff exhaled as he ran his hand over his bald head. “Few things. They do your typical small-time drug deals on occasion. But that’s not what keeps me up at night. No, they tend to use drugs as a means to control their merchandise. The merchandise being people. Women usually, but they are equal opportunity lowlifes if the demand is there.” “Human traffickers?” “Bingo. Area’s been a hot zone for the last few years. Ever since they did all that construction on the highways and whatever, this place is an ideal midway point. Crime is like real estate, location is everything. Oh and with the number of people around dropping dead from heroin around here, there are plenty of bodies that go missing. Hell, the coroner sometimes needs more freezers and most time no one claims them anyways. So there’s another business opportunity. Someone needs a kidney, no problem. Just get off what used to be old Highway 26 and you’re in business.” “So what do we do?” I had no idea where he was going with this. “Don’t you worry about a thing, my boy. I’ve been planning what to do for a long time. I just needed someone I could trust as my back up. All I need you to do is man the office when I say so and that’s it.” “That’s it?” I couldn’t believe that was all. “Yup. Believe me, old Seth has a lot of enemies. Powerful enemies. In virtually every field. They’ve been waiting to crack down on him and his associates and now they’ll have the chance. So, all I need you to do run the office tomorrow and it will be done.” I nodded and agreed I would. I spent the rest of the day in a haze, but the following day, I did just as he asked. It seemed to be just another day to me. The entire time I was there, I tried to stay calm, but inside I kept wondering what he was doing? Time seemed to drag painfully by. As the sun was setting, the Sheriff came back and offered me a nod. “Keep an eye on the news. Good work son.” He gave me a pat on the back. It was oddly comforting. The man had never done that before. The next couple of days I was on edge as I watched the news. But nothing caught my eye until yesterday. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Seth Lang being dragged away in cuffs, the local anchor giving some commentary about being indicted for racketeering and similar charges. But it was what I saw next that I couldn’t believe. The person who was being taken in right alongside Seth. A tall, slender guy about my age with a buzz cut. His name was Terry. I had seen his picture a million times; most recently right on his father’s desk where I sat at all day less than a week ago. More From Thought Catalog Sponsored A Millennial Cheesemaker’s Guide To A Happy Life Read more: https://thoughtcatalog.com/grant-butler/2018/10/something-suspicious-is-going-on-at-the-old-pine-grove-mall http://dailybuzznetwork.com/index.php/2018/10/17/something-suspicious-is-going-on-at-the-old-pine-grove-mall/

[the-connection]

http://bit.ly/2Ac9EJp

Cataloged in Creepy / Scary Stories

Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall

Grant Butler Updated October 16, 2018

0

Malls. The heart of any community is its shopping mall; it reflects the pulse of the area. By that definition, my hometown of Pinewood, Pennsylvania has all but flat-lined.

Around here we have the Pine Grove Mall. Less than 20 years ago, Pine Grove was hopping. Everyone in the county would shop here. Restaurants would spring up like weeds and would grow just as fast. But that is just a dim memory anymore.

People younger than I am only know Pine Grove as an abandoned old cluster of buildings with a thick layer of graffiti painted across dull grey walls. It could easily be a set background for The Walking Dead or something. Sadly, I’m not sure a zombie apocalypse would look much different. The people around here have gone the same way as the mall; from bright and exuberant to dull, lifeless, and bleak. Heroin is absurdly high here. I swear, the only people making any big money around here anymore are the dealers.

Which was how I found myself at the old Mall last week. Being one of the town’s sheriff deputies means I know this town like the back of my hand. We’d been getting steady reports from locals about weird activity at the mall. Nothing new there. Kids loved to sneak in there on dares and to drink, smoke, get to second base, the usual. We usually took these reports with a grain of salt, but lately, there had been more calls than usual, so we were obliged to look into it.

Walking up to the entrance, my breath came out in a cloud. Time to be on the lookout, because odds were good that there was probably some homeless guy in there or something. There is something inherently unsettling about abandoned public buildings. Perhaps it’s because you can’t help but imagine them bustling with visitors, you can sometimes feel the hustle and bustle of the past. But then you see the reality and it doesn’t look natural.

Walking to the padlocked front double door, I got a closer look at the graffiti on the door. Even if I hated the sight of it, I couldn’t deny some of it was impressive. There was something inherently captivating about its raw pain, it just screamed out at the observer.

After unwinding the chain and padlock, the front doors whined slightly as I opened them as quietly as I could. Stepping onto the cracked glazed floor of the entryway, I caught the damp bitter smell of mold invading the area, the scent mingling with that still lingering department store smell. That synthetic smell you automatically associate with corporate retail. Taking great care to shut the door partially behind me, I slowly crept inside, my narrow flashlight dancing on the surfaces ahead of me. It felt far chillier in here now. I didn’t like being here. Not one bit.

The Pine Grove Mall had two levels. One was the entryway floor, which was technically the building’s second level. From the outside, you could see how the place was built on a quarry. Once inside, visitors could descend via escalator or elevator to the ground floor. Taking great care not to stumble on the escalator steps, I descended down onto the ground floor. It was filthy down here. Garbage strewn everywhere you looked. The only light besides my flashlight was from the occasional skylight above.

Putting on hand on my gun in case I needed to protect myself, I walked forward. The air felt different here, denser. Every step I took forward, I felt like there were shadows moving on the walls. But every time I looked, it was nothing. Repressing that voice in the back of my head that told me to get out, I scanned the place. No homeless anywhere. All around me, the old vendors and stores were silent. I was just about to turn around and go back when I smelled it.

A faint smell of smoke coming from what used to be Sears. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The old saying never felt more real; there was smoke, so there had to be fire. Turning off my flashlight, I crept around, taking great care to look around corners. Nothing. But I realized that the smoke was coming from the basement. Drawing in a deep breath, I silently walked down the stairs. The smoke thickened as I did.

Most of the time, fire is a pleasant smell. Something about it is natural, inherently cleansing and earthy. This was anything but. It had a bitter, angry tinge to it. Sort of like how chemically induced fires smell different. The smell was noxious and heavy. Great, that meant whoever was down here was probably burning something they shouldn’t. Fucking meth heads. Doing my best to control the tightening in my chest, I inched forward. As I approached the door to the basement, I could see the outlines of a fire through a crack in the door. But just as I was thinking about how to deal with the situation, I stopped dead in my tracks.

This was no small time drug deal, at least not one that I had ever seen. Peering through a small hole in the wall a few feet away, I could make out the shape of at least five figures. I had no idea what they were doing, but I knew it wasn’t good. People making meth was looking pretty good compared to whatever the fuck this was.

There were five people that I could see, each tall and lean in build. Also identical was their attire; black hooded jackets, black pants, and the masks. The masks were those cheap costume store ones; milk white and expressionless. Just remembering them now gives me the creeps. I crouched there, simultaneously transfixed and alarmed by the sight. I could hear faint murmuring coming from the room, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t see what exactly they were doing.

The only other thing in the room seemed to be medium sized crates, stacked against the far side of the wall. I felt like I was a kid again, secretly watching adults doing something that I didn’t understand, but I knew wasn’t good.

Right then, I heard the sounds of scuttling from behind me. Even now, I am amazed I didn’t yell out or anything at that moment. With a rapid glance behind me, I saw it was a rat. My hand tightly gripping the butt of my gun, I forced myself to calm down a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping that they wouldn’t hear it and investigate. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice.

A few moments later, I saw something. In the glint from the fire, I noticed one of them was wearing a ring. A gold ring with a sapphire in the center, a custom job. I know because I’d seen it before. It was typically worn on the finger of Seth Lang; one of the towns more prominent citizens, a member of city council and one of the town’s few people of means left. Looking at the figure now, I could see he had a similar build to Mr. Lang.

Want to know what the most disturbing thing of all was? I wasn’t even surprised. In a place like Pinewood, gossip tends to spread quicker than a forest fire, and gossip about Lang wasn’t good. I had never met the guy myself, but I knew people who had, and they all told me the same thing. He always made them feel uneasy. Seeing this, I knew what they meant. Believe me, I have seen more than my fair share of bad.

But this was different. I don’t think I have ever felt so small before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. Smelling whatever that was they were burning, it stung my nose. Perhaps it was drug-related after all. Either way, it was time to make my leave.

Every move I took made me hold my breath, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be seen or heard. Part of me didn’t want to take my eyes off the door as I left, so I did my best to look back and forth repeatedly.

The air got mercifully clearer with each step I took. Internally, I was screaming “Get the hell out of there!” But fortunately, I was still in work mode and I knew I had to keep my head and stay quiet. No use running if it got me shot. Or worse.

I didn’t know how many of them were here, so best to stay incognito. If possible, I felt even more terrified than when I first arrived. Every shadow I passed, I thought I could see the shape of the blank white mask lumbering towards me in the darkness.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I made it the door I came in through. Casting a glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I stepped into the cold night air. I had no idea what to do.

As I walked back to my car, I couldn’t believe I actually saw that; whatever that was. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. Well, It was also at that point when I felt the most fear. Something about the wide open space made me feel exposed, not to mention the dim but still operational light. Every step made me think that it might be the last before someone or something jumped me. When got back in my car, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to be back in a vehicle in my life. I felt like I was on the run from a rabid dog; something just aching to rip me to bits.

Shoving my key into the ignition, I hastily started my car. I took care to get out of there quickly, but not so much that I made a bunch of noise. Looking around myself on every side, I was still alone.

“Calm down,” I told myself out loud in the solitude of my car. But as you might imagine, that was easier said than done in this case. From a professional standpoint, I had nothing to report that was illegal. At best, all I saw was loitering or trespassing, with no way to know who it was for sure. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. But that was my head talking. My instinct was screaming “Shady!” over and over.

This was the worst part of my job. When I knew something was up, but there was nothing I could do about it but wait. Backup was a no go either. By the time they got here, whoever was down there might be gone. I decided that last word sounded amazing, so I kept on driving.

When I got home, I felt the crushing silence. The sound had never before sounded so real—like a state of existence. Out of paranoia, I peered through my window blinds every few moments, only to find nothing there. Keeping my weapon handy, I went to bed. Sleep was not to be had, as I spent the rest of the night staring up at my ceiling fan.

After dragging myself out of bed a few hours later, I went to work like I would normally. I felt simultaneously exhausted and wired. After sitting down at my desk with a massive coffee, I began to fill out some routine paperwork. As usual, the scent of stale Chinese food lingered in the air. I decided to file paperwork saying that I had seen nothing at the abandoned mall. But that was a task for the end of the day. I was at work for about two hours when my boss called me into his office.

“Adam, I need you for a second,” Sheriff Hammond summoned me in his low, gruff voice. I always admired the man, because despite his job, I had yet to hear him raise his voice at anyone. A tall, slight man, he had these piercing black eyes. Being a former sergeant in the Marine Corps, no one in town would dare mess with the guy. The fact that he was my boss was one of the few things that helped me stay calm. I was at the safest place in town here.

“Yes, Sheriff?” I stood in front of his desk expectantly as he reclined casually in his chair with his feet up on the messy surface.

“The anniversary of the town’s founding is coming up and they are having the usual shindig. Was wondering if you’d mind working the street festival.”

“Sure thing, no problem boss.”

“Good man. Oh and by the way. What happened last night?” I froze on the spot, unsure of what to say. I could lie about what happened to anyone else in town, but not the Sheriff. I swear the man could smell a lie quicker than a snake smells prey.

“Well Sheriff,” I began hesitantly. “I don’t know what exactly I saw.” He took his feet off the desk and was studying me. “All I know is it looked creepy as hell.”

“You saw those bastards too huh?” he asked as if it were the most routine thing in the World. I could feel my jaw drop as I just stared at him. But that was the typical Jake Hammond. The man didn’t flinch at anything.

“How did you,” I began to ask before he interrupted me.

“My boy, I know this place like the back of my hand. There is a lot of shady things that go on here that I know of, but for a lot of reasons, I can’t do anything about. It’s not that I’m afraid. Not by a long shot. It’s because I know who and what I’m up against. A lot of boys over the years have taken calls just like that one. Most never return. Know why?”

“No,” I couldn’t believe it was possible, but I felt even more afraid than last night.

“Because those mask-wearing assholes always get them. Not with bullets. Well, most of the time they don’t. No, they use something more dangerous; bribes. Drugs, money, women, booze, whatever. Know what happens once they turn them?”

“No,”

“They put them to use. For something. Occasionally it’s just to look the other way on something. Other times, well, let’s just say there’s a reason why turnover here is so high. Every time there is a call out to that place, I keep a close eye on whoever goes out and how they act after. You, my boy, are different than the rest. You know it’s bad news. So tell me, who do you think was there?”

“I think one was Seth Lang.”

“Good man. Lang is the ringleader. Slimy little prick. Had my eye on him for quite a while now. He’s dirty.”

“What exactly is it they do?” The Sheriff exhaled as he ran his hand over his bald head.

“Few things. They do your typical small-time drug deals on occasion. But that’s not what keeps me up at night. No, they tend to use drugs as a means to control their merchandise. The merchandise being people. Women usually, but they are equal opportunity lowlifes if the demand is there.”

“Human traffickers?”

“Bingo. Area’s been a hot zone for the last few years. Ever since they did all that construction on the highways and whatever, this place is an ideal midway point. Crime is like real estate, location is everything. Oh and with the number of people around dropping dead from heroin around here, there are plenty of bodies that go missing. Hell, the coroner sometimes needs more freezers and most time no one claims them anyways. So there’s another business opportunity. Someone needs a kidney, no problem. Just get off what used to be old Highway 26 and you’re in business.”

“So what do we do?” I had no idea where he was going with this.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, my boy. I’ve been planning what to do for a long time. I just needed someone I could trust as my back up. All I need you to do is man the office when I say so and that’s it.”

“That’s it?” I couldn’t believe that was all.

“Yup. Believe me, old Seth has a lot of enemies. Powerful enemies. In virtually every field. They’ve been waiting to crack down on him and his associates and now they’ll have the chance. So, all I need you to do run the office tomorrow and it will be done.” I nodded and agreed I would.

I spent the rest of the day in a haze, but the following day, I did just as he asked. It seemed to be just another day to me. The entire time I was there, I tried to stay calm, but inside I kept wondering what he was doing? Time seemed to drag painfully by. As the sun was setting, the Sheriff came back and offered me a nod.

“Keep an eye on the news. Good work son.” He gave me a pat on the back. It was oddly comforting. The man had never done that before.

The next couple of days I was on edge as I watched the news. But nothing caught my eye until yesterday. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Seth Lang being dragged away in cuffs, the local anchor giving some commentary about being indicted for racketeering and similar charges. But it was what I saw next that I couldn’t believe.

The person who was being taken in right alongside Seth. A tall, slender guy about my age with a buzz cut. His name was Terry. I had seen his picture a million times; most recently right on his father’s desk where I sat at all day less than a week ago.

More From Thought Catalog

Sponsored

A Millennial Cheesemaker’s Guide To A Happy Life

Read more: http://thoughtcatalog.com/

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall

http://bit.ly/2Ac9EJp Cataloged in Creepy / Scary Stories Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall Grant Butler Updated October 16, 2018 0 Malls. The heart of any community is its shopping mall; it reflects the pulse of the area. By that definition, my hometown of Pinewood, Pennsylvania has all but flat-lined. Around here we have the Pine Grove Mall. Less than 20 years ago, Pine Grove was hopping. Everyone in the county would shop here. Restaurants would spring up like weeds and would grow just as fast. But that is just a dim memory anymore. People younger than I am only know Pine Grove as an abandoned old cluster of buildings with a thick layer of graffiti painted across dull grey walls. It could easily be a set background for The Walking Dead or something. Sadly, I’m not sure a zombie apocalypse would look much different. The people around here have gone the same way as the mall; from bright and exuberant to dull, lifeless, and bleak. Heroin is absurdly high here. I swear, the only people making any big money around here anymore are the dealers. Which was how I found myself at the old Mall last week. Being one of the town’s sheriff deputies means I know this town like the back of my hand. We’d been getting steady reports from locals about weird activity at the mall. Nothing new there. Kids loved to sneak in there on dares and to drink, smoke, get to second base, the usual. We usually took these reports with a grain of salt, but lately, there had been more calls than usual, so we were obliged to look into it. Walking up to the entrance, my breath came out in a cloud. Time to be on the lookout, because odds were good that there was probably some homeless guy in there or something. There is something inherently unsettling about abandoned public buildings. Perhaps it’s because you can’t help but imagine them bustling with visitors, you can sometimes feel the hustle and bustle of the past. But then you see the reality and it doesn’t look natural. Walking to the padlocked front double door, I got a closer look at the graffiti on the door. Even if I hated the sight of it, I couldn’t deny some of it was impressive. There was something inherently captivating about its raw pain, it just screamed out at the observer. After unwinding the chain and padlock, the front doors whined slightly as I opened them as quietly as I could. Stepping onto the cracked glazed floor of the entryway, I caught the damp bitter smell of mold invading the area, the scent mingling with that still lingering department store smell. That synthetic smell you automatically associate with corporate retail. Taking great care to shut the door partially behind me, I slowly crept inside, my narrow flashlight dancing on the surfaces ahead of me. It felt far chillier in here now. I didn’t like being here. Not one bit. The Pine Grove Mall had two levels. One was the entryway floor, which was technically the building’s second level. From the outside, you could see how the place was built on a quarry. Once inside, visitors could descend via escalator or elevator to the ground floor. Taking great care not to stumble on the escalator steps, I descended down onto the ground floor. It was filthy down here. Garbage strewn everywhere you looked. The only light besides my flashlight was from the occasional skylight above. Putting on hand on my gun in case I needed to protect myself, I walked forward. The air felt different here, denser. Every step I took forward, I felt like there were shadows moving on the walls. But every time I looked, it was nothing. Repressing that voice in the back of my head that told me to get out, I scanned the place. No homeless anywhere. All around me, the old vendors and stores were silent. I was just about to turn around and go back when I smelled it. A faint smell of smoke coming from what used to be Sears. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The old saying never felt more real; there was smoke, so there had to be fire. Turning off my flashlight, I crept around, taking great care to look around corners. Nothing. But I realized that the smoke was coming from the basement. Drawing in a deep breath, I silently walked down the stairs. The smoke thickened as I did. Most of the time, fire is a pleasant smell. Something about it is natural, inherently cleansing and earthy. This was anything but. It had a bitter, angry tinge to it. Sort of like how chemically induced fires smell different. The smell was noxious and heavy. Great, that meant whoever was down here was probably burning something they shouldn’t. Fucking meth heads. Doing my best to control the tightening in my chest, I inched forward. As I approached the door to the basement, I could see the outlines of a fire through a crack in the door. But just as I was thinking about how to deal with the situation, I stopped dead in my tracks. This was no small time drug deal, at least not one that I had ever seen. Peering through a small hole in the wall a few feet away, I could make out the shape of at least five figures. I had no idea what they were doing, but I knew it wasn’t good. People making meth was looking pretty good compared to whatever the fuck this was. There were five people that I could see, each tall and lean in build. Also identical was their attire; black hooded jackets, black pants, and the masks. The masks were those cheap costume store ones; milk white and expressionless. Just remembering them now gives me the creeps. I crouched there, simultaneously transfixed and alarmed by the sight. I could hear faint murmuring coming from the room, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t see what exactly they were doing. The only other thing in the room seemed to be medium sized crates, stacked against the far side of the wall. I felt like I was a kid again, secretly watching adults doing something that I didn’t understand, but I knew wasn’t good. Right then, I heard the sounds of scuttling from behind me. Even now, I am amazed I didn’t yell out or anything at that moment. With a rapid glance behind me, I saw it was a rat. My hand tightly gripping the butt of my gun, I forced myself to calm down a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping that they wouldn’t hear it and investigate. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice. A few moments later, I saw something. In the glint from the fire, I noticed one of them was wearing a ring. A gold ring with a sapphire in the center, a custom job. I know because I’d seen it before. It was typically worn on the finger of Seth Lang; one of the towns more prominent citizens, a member of city council and one of the town’s few people of means left. Looking at the figure now, I could see he had a similar build to Mr. Lang. Want to know what the most disturbing thing of all was? I wasn’t even surprised. In a place like Pinewood, gossip tends to spread quicker than a forest fire, and gossip about Lang wasn’t good. I had never met the guy myself, but I knew people who had, and they all told me the same thing. He always made them feel uneasy. Seeing this, I knew what they meant. Believe me, I have seen more than my fair share of bad. But this was different. I don’t think I have ever felt so small before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. Smelling whatever that was they were burning, it stung my nose. Perhaps it was drug-related after all. Either way, it was time to make my leave. Every move I took made me hold my breath, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be seen or heard. Part of me didn’t want to take my eyes off the door as I left, so I did my best to look back and forth repeatedly. The air got mercifully clearer with each step I took. Internally, I was screaming “Get the hell out of there!” But fortunately, I was still in work mode and I knew I had to keep my head and stay quiet. No use running if it got me shot. Or worse. I didn’t know how many of them were here, so best to stay incognito. If possible, I felt even more terrified than when I first arrived. Every shadow I passed, I thought I could see the shape of the blank white mask lumbering towards me in the darkness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I made it the door I came in through. Casting a glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I stepped into the cold night air. I had no idea what to do. As I walked back to my car, I couldn’t believe I actually saw that; whatever that was. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. Well, It was also at that point when I felt the most fear. Something about the wide open space made me feel exposed, not to mention the dim but still operational light. Every step made me think that it might be the last before someone or something jumped me. When got back in my car, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to be back in a vehicle in my life. I felt like I was on the run from a rabid dog; something just aching to rip me to bits. Shoving my key into the ignition, I hastily started my car. I took care to get out of there quickly, but not so much that I made a bunch of noise. Looking around myself on every side, I was still alone. “Calm down,” I told myself out loud in the solitude of my car. But as you might imagine, that was easier said than done in this case. From a professional standpoint, I had nothing to report that was illegal. At best, all I saw was loitering or trespassing, with no way to know who it was for sure. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. But that was my head talking. My instinct was screaming “Shady!” over and over. This was the worst part of my job. When I knew something was up, but there was nothing I could do about it but wait. Backup was a no go either. By the time they got here, whoever was down there might be gone. I decided that last word sounded amazing, so I kept on driving. When I got home, I felt the crushing silence. The sound had never before sounded so real—like a state of existence. Out of paranoia, I peered through my window blinds every few moments, only to find nothing there. Keeping my weapon handy, I went to bed. Sleep was not to be had, as I spent the rest of the night staring up at my ceiling fan. After dragging myself out of bed a few hours later, I went to work like I would normally. I felt simultaneously exhausted and wired. After sitting down at my desk with a massive coffee, I began to fill out some routine paperwork. As usual, the scent of stale Chinese food lingered in the air. I decided to file paperwork saying that I had seen nothing at the abandoned mall. But that was a task for the end of the day. I was at work for about two hours when my boss called me into his office. “Adam, I need you for a second,” Sheriff Hammond summoned me in his low, gruff voice. I always admired the man, because despite his job, I had yet to hear him raise his voice at anyone. A tall, slight man, he had these piercing black eyes. Being a former sergeant in the Marine Corps, no one in town would dare mess with the guy. The fact that he was my boss was one of the few things that helped me stay calm. I was at the safest place in town here. “Yes, Sheriff?” I stood in front of his desk expectantly as he reclined casually in his chair with his feet up on the messy surface. “The anniversary of the town’s founding is coming up and they are having the usual shindig. Was wondering if you’d mind working the street festival.” “Sure thing, no problem boss.” “Good man. Oh and by the way. What happened last night?” I froze on the spot, unsure of what to say. I could lie about what happened to anyone else in town, but not the Sheriff. I swear the man could smell a lie quicker than a snake smells prey. “Well Sheriff,” I began hesitantly. “I don’t know what exactly I saw.” He took his feet off the desk and was studying me. “All I know is it looked creepy as hell.” “You saw those bastards too huh?” he asked as if it were the most routine thing in the World. I could feel my jaw drop as I just stared at him. But that was the typical Jake Hammond. The man didn’t flinch at anything. “How did you,” I began to ask before he interrupted me. “My boy, I know this place like the back of my hand. There is a lot of shady things that go on here that I know of, but for a lot of reasons, I can’t do anything about. It’s not that I’m afraid. Not by a long shot. It’s because I know who and what I’m up against. A lot of boys over the years have taken calls just like that one. Most never return. Know why?” “No,” I couldn’t believe it was possible, but I felt even more afraid than last night. “Because those mask-wearing assholes always get them. Not with bullets. Well, most of the time they don’t. No, they use something more dangerous; bribes. Drugs, money, women, booze, whatever. Know what happens once they turn them?” “No,” “They put them to use. For something. Occasionally it’s just to look the other way on something. Other times, well, let’s just say there’s a reason why turnover here is so high. Every time there is a call out to that place, I keep a close eye on whoever goes out and how they act after. You, my boy, are different than the rest. You know it’s bad news. So tell me, who do you think was there?” “I think one was Seth Lang.” “Good man. Lang is the ringleader. Slimy little prick. Had my eye on him for quite a while now. He’s dirty.” “What exactly is it they do?” The Sheriff exhaled as he ran his hand over his bald head. “Few things. They do your typical small-time drug deals on occasion. But that’s not what keeps me up at night. No, they tend to use drugs as a means to control their merchandise. The merchandise being people. Women usually, but they are equal opportunity lowlifes if the demand is there.” “Human traffickers?” “Bingo. Area’s been a hot zone for the last few years. Ever since they did all that construction on the highways and whatever, this place is an ideal midway point. Crime is like real estate, location is everything. Oh and with the number of people around dropping dead from heroin around here, there are plenty of bodies that go missing. Hell, the coroner sometimes needs more freezers and most time no one claims them anyways. So there’s another business opportunity. Someone needs a kidney, no problem. Just get off what used to be old Highway 26 and you’re in business.” “So what do we do?” I had no idea where he was going with this. “Don’t you worry about a thing, my boy. I’ve been planning what to do for a long time. I just needed someone I could trust as my back up. All I need you to do is man the office when I say so and that’s it.” “That’s it?” I couldn’t believe that was all. “Yup. Believe me, old Seth has a lot of enemies. Powerful enemies. In virtually every field. They’ve been waiting to crack down on him and his associates and now they’ll have the chance. So, all I need you to do run the office tomorrow and it will be done.” I nodded and agreed I would. I spent the rest of the day in a haze, but the following day, I did just as he asked. It seemed to be just another day to me. The entire time I was there, I tried to stay calm, but inside I kept wondering what he was doing? Time seemed to drag painfully by. As the sun was setting, the Sheriff came back and offered me a nod. “Keep an eye on the news. Good work son.” He gave me a pat on the back. It was oddly comforting. The man had never done that before. The next couple of days I was on edge as I watched the news. But nothing caught my eye until yesterday. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Seth Lang being dragged away in cuffs, the local anchor giving some commentary about being indicted for racketeering and similar charges. But it was what I saw next that I couldn’t believe. The person who was being taken in right alongside Seth. A tall, slender guy about my age with a buzz cut. His name was Terry. I had seen his picture a million times; most recently right on his father’s desk where I sat at all day less than a week ago. More From Thought Catalog Sponsored A Millennial Cheesemaker’s Guide To A Happy Life Read more: https://thoughtcatalog.com/grant-butler/2018/10/something-suspicious-is-going-on-at-the-old-pine-grove-mall http://dailybuzznetwork.com/index.php/2018/10/17/something-suspicious-is-going-on-at-the-old-pine-grove-mall/

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall

http://bit.ly/2Ac9EJp

Cataloged in Creepy / Scary Stories

Something Suspicious Is Going On At The Old Pine Grove Mall

Grant Butler Updated October 16, 2018

0

Malls. The heart of any community is its shopping mall; it reflects the pulse of the area. By that definition, my hometown of Pinewood, Pennsylvania has all but flat-lined.

Around here we have the Pine Grove Mall. Less than 20 years ago, Pine Grove was hopping. Everyone in the county would shop here. Restaurants would spring up like weeds and would grow just as fast. But that is just a dim memory anymore.

People younger than I am only know Pine Grove as an abandoned old cluster of buildings with a thick layer of graffiti painted across dull grey walls. It could easily be a set background for The Walking Dead or something. Sadly, I’m not sure a zombie apocalypse would look much different. The people around here have gone the same way as the mall; from bright and exuberant to dull, lifeless, and bleak. Heroin is absurdly high here. I swear, the only people making any big money around here anymore are the dealers.

Which was how I found myself at the old Mall last week. Being one of the town’s sheriff deputies means I know this town like the back of my hand. We’d been getting steady reports from locals about weird activity at the mall. Nothing new there. Kids loved to sneak in there on dares and to drink, smoke, get to second base, the usual. We usually took these reports with a grain of salt, but lately, there had been more calls than usual, so we were obliged to look into it.

Walking up to the entrance, my breath came out in a cloud. Time to be on the lookout, because odds were good that there was probably some homeless guy in there or something. There is something inherently unsettling about abandoned public buildings. Perhaps it’s because you can’t help but imagine them bustling with visitors, you can sometimes feel the hustle and bustle of the past. But then you see the reality and it doesn’t look natural.

Walking to the padlocked front double door, I got a closer look at the graffiti on the door. Even if I hated the sight of it, I couldn’t deny some of it was impressive. There was something inherently captivating about its raw pain, it just screamed out at the observer.

After unwinding the chain and padlock, the front doors whined slightly as I opened them as quietly as I could. Stepping onto the cracked glazed floor of the entryway, I caught the damp bitter smell of mold invading the area, the scent mingling with that still lingering department store smell. That synthetic smell you automatically associate with corporate retail. Taking great care to shut the door partially behind me, I slowly crept inside, my narrow flashlight dancing on the surfaces ahead of me. It felt far chillier in here now. I didn’t like being here. Not one bit.

The Pine Grove Mall had two levels. One was the entryway floor, which was technically the building’s second level. From the outside, you could see how the place was built on a quarry. Once inside, visitors could descend via escalator or elevator to the ground floor. Taking great care not to stumble on the escalator steps, I descended down onto the ground floor. It was filthy down here. Garbage strewn everywhere you looked. The only light besides my flashlight was from the occasional skylight above.

Putting on hand on my gun in case I needed to protect myself, I walked forward. The air felt different here, denser. Every step I took forward, I felt like there were shadows moving on the walls. But every time I looked, it was nothing. Repressing that voice in the back of my head that told me to get out, I scanned the place. No homeless anywhere. All around me, the old vendors and stores were silent. I was just about to turn around and go back when I smelled it.

A faint smell of smoke coming from what used to be Sears. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The old saying never felt more real; there was smoke, so there had to be fire. Turning off my flashlight, I crept around, taking great care to look around corners. Nothing. But I realized that the smoke was coming from the basement. Drawing in a deep breath, I silently walked down the stairs. The smoke thickened as I did.

Most of the time, fire is a pleasant smell. Something about it is natural, inherently cleansing and earthy. This was anything but. It had a bitter, angry tinge to it. Sort of like how chemically induced fires smell different. The smell was noxious and heavy. Great, that meant whoever was down here was probably burning something they shouldn’t. Fucking meth heads. Doing my best to control the tightening in my chest, I inched forward. As I approached the door to the basement, I could see the outlines of a fire through a crack in the door. But just as I was thinking about how to deal with the situation, I stopped dead in my tracks.

This was no small time drug deal, at least not one that I had ever seen. Peering through a small hole in the wall a few feet away, I could make out the shape of at least five figures. I had no idea what they were doing, but I knew it wasn’t good. People making meth was looking pretty good compared to whatever the fuck this was.

There were five people that I could see, each tall and lean in build. Also identical was their attire; black hooded jackets, black pants, and the masks. The masks were those cheap costume store ones; milk white and expressionless. Just remembering them now gives me the creeps. I crouched there, simultaneously transfixed and alarmed by the sight. I could hear faint murmuring coming from the room, but I couldn’t make out any actual words. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t see what exactly they were doing.

The only other thing in the room seemed to be medium sized crates, stacked against the far side of the wall. I felt like I was a kid again, secretly watching adults doing something that I didn’t understand, but I knew wasn’t good.

Right then, I heard the sounds of scuttling from behind me. Even now, I am amazed I didn’t yell out or anything at that moment. With a rapid glance behind me, I saw it was a rat. My hand tightly gripping the butt of my gun, I forced myself to calm down a bit. I didn’t know what to do. I was hoping that they wouldn’t hear it and investigate. Fortunately, they didn’t seem to notice.

A few moments later, I saw something. In the glint from the fire, I noticed one of them was wearing a ring. A gold ring with a sapphire in the center, a custom job. I know because I’d seen it before. It was typically worn on the finger of Seth Lang; one of the towns more prominent citizens, a member of city council and one of the town’s few people of means left. Looking at the figure now, I could see he had a similar build to Mr. Lang.

Want to know what the most disturbing thing of all was? I wasn’t even surprised. In a place like Pinewood, gossip tends to spread quicker than a forest fire, and gossip about Lang wasn’t good. I had never met the guy myself, but I knew people who had, and they all told me the same thing. He always made them feel uneasy. Seeing this, I knew what they meant. Believe me, I have seen more than my fair share of bad.

But this was different. I don’t think I have ever felt so small before. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good. Smelling whatever that was they were burning, it stung my nose. Perhaps it was drug-related after all. Either way, it was time to make my leave.

Every move I took made me hold my breath, I was hoping that I wouldn’t be seen or heard. Part of me didn’t want to take my eyes off the door as I left, so I did my best to look back and forth repeatedly.

The air got mercifully clearer with each step I took. Internally, I was screaming “Get the hell out of there!” But fortunately, I was still in work mode and I knew I had to keep my head and stay quiet. No use running if it got me shot. Or worse.

I didn’t know how many of them were here, so best to stay incognito. If possible, I felt even more terrified than when I first arrived. Every shadow I passed, I thought I could see the shape of the blank white mask lumbering towards me in the darkness.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I made it the door I came in through. Casting a glance over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, I stepped into the cold night air. I had no idea what to do.

As I walked back to my car, I couldn’t believe I actually saw that; whatever that was. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. Well, It was also at that point when I felt the most fear. Something about the wide open space made me feel exposed, not to mention the dim but still operational light. Every step made me think that it might be the last before someone or something jumped me. When got back in my car, I don’t think I have ever been so happy to be back in a vehicle in my life. I felt like I was on the run from a rabid dog; something just aching to rip me to bits.

Shoving my key into the ignition, I hastily started my car. I took care to get out of there quickly, but not so much that I made a bunch of noise. Looking around myself on every side, I was still alone.

“Calm down,” I told myself out loud in the solitude of my car. But as you might imagine, that was easier said than done in this case. From a professional standpoint, I had nothing to report that was illegal. At best, all I saw was loitering or trespassing, with no way to know who it was for sure. I didn’t see anything explicitly bad, but I also didn’t see anything good. But that was my head talking. My instinct was screaming “Shady!” over and over.

This was the worst part of my job. When I knew something was up, but there was nothing I could do about it but wait. Backup was a no go either. By the time they got here, whoever was down there might be gone. I decided that last word sounded amazing, so I kept on driving.

When I got home, I felt the crushing silence. The sound had never before sounded so real—like a state of existence. Out of paranoia, I peered through my window blinds every few moments, only to find nothing there. Keeping my weapon handy, I went to bed. Sleep was not to be had, as I spent the rest of the night staring up at my ceiling fan.

After dragging myself out of bed a few hours later, I went to work like I would normally. I felt simultaneously exhausted and wired. After sitting down at my desk with a massive coffee, I began to fill out some routine paperwork. As usual, the scent of stale Chinese food lingered in the air. I decided to file paperwork saying that I had seen nothing at the abandoned mall. But that was a task for the end of the day. I was at work for about two hours when my boss called me into his office.

“Adam, I need you for a second,” Sheriff Hammond summoned me in his low, gruff voice. I always admired the man, because despite his job, I had yet to hear him raise his voice at anyone. A tall, slight man, he had these piercing black eyes. Being a former sergeant in the Marine Corps, no one in town would dare mess with the guy. The fact that he was my boss was one of the few things that helped me stay calm. I was at the safest place in town here.

“Yes, Sheriff?” I stood in front of his desk expectantly as he reclined casually in his chair with his feet up on the messy surface.

“The anniversary of the town’s founding is coming up and they are having the usual shindig. Was wondering if you’d mind working the street festival.”

“Sure thing, no problem boss.”

“Good man. Oh and by the way. What happened last night?” I froze on the spot, unsure of what to say. I could lie about what happened to anyone else in town, but not the Sheriff. I swear the man could smell a lie quicker than a snake smells prey.

“Well Sheriff,” I began hesitantly. “I don’t know what exactly I saw.” He took his feet off the desk and was studying me. “All I know is it looked creepy as hell.”

“You saw those bastards too huh?” he asked as if it were the most routine thing in the World. I could feel my jaw drop as I just stared at him. But that was the typical Jake Hammond. The man didn’t flinch at anything.

“How did you,” I began to ask before he interrupted me.

“My boy, I know this place like the back of my hand. There is a lot of shady things that go on here that I know of, but for a lot of reasons, I can’t do anything about. It’s not that I’m afraid. Not by a long shot. It’s because I know who and what I’m up against. A lot of boys over the years have taken calls just like that one. Most never return. Know why?”

“No,” I couldn’t believe it was possible, but I felt even more afraid than last night.

“Because those mask-wearing assholes always get them. Not with bullets. Well, most of the time they don’t. No, they use something more dangerous; bribes. Drugs, money, women, booze, whatever. Know what happens once they turn them?”

“No,”

“They put them to use. For something. Occasionally it’s just to look the other way on something. Other times, well, let’s just say there’s a reason why turnover here is so high. Every time there is a call out to that place, I keep a close eye on whoever goes out and how they act after. You, my boy, are different than the rest. You know it’s bad news. So tell me, who do you think was there?”

“I think one was Seth Lang.”

“Good man. Lang is the ringleader. Slimy little prick. Had my eye on him for quite a while now. He’s dirty.”

“What exactly is it they do?” The Sheriff exhaled as he ran his hand over his bald head.

“Few things. They do your typical small-time drug deals on occasion. But that’s not what keeps me up at night. No, they tend to use drugs as a means to control their merchandise. The merchandise being people. Women usually, but they are equal opportunity lowlifes if the demand is there.”

“Human traffickers?”

“Bingo. Area’s been a hot zone for the last few years. Ever since they did all that construction on the highways and whatever, this place is an ideal midway point. Crime is like real estate, location is everything. Oh and with the number of people around dropping dead from heroin around here, there are plenty of bodies that go missing. Hell, the coroner sometimes needs more freezers and most time no one claims them anyways. So there’s another business opportunity. Someone needs a kidney, no problem. Just get off what used to be old Highway 26 and you’re in business.”

“So what do we do?” I had no idea where he was going with this.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, my boy. I’ve been planning what to do for a long time. I just needed someone I could trust as my back up. All I need you to do is man the office when I say so and that’s it.”

“That’s it?” I couldn’t believe that was all.

“Yup. Believe me, old Seth has a lot of enemies. Powerful enemies. In virtually every field. They’ve been waiting to crack down on him and his associates and now they’ll have the chance. So, all I need you to do run the office tomorrow and it will be done.” I nodded and agreed I would.

I spent the rest of the day in a haze, but the following day, I did just as he asked. It seemed to be just another day to me. The entire time I was there, I tried to stay calm, but inside I kept wondering what he was doing? Time seemed to drag painfully by. As the sun was setting, the Sheriff came back and offered me a nod.

“Keep an eye on the news. Good work son.” He gave me a pat on the back. It was oddly comforting. The man had never done that before.

The next couple of days I was on edge as I watched the news. But nothing caught my eye until yesterday. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw Seth Lang being dragged away in cuffs, the local anchor giving some commentary about being indicted for racketeering and similar charges. But it was what I saw next that I couldn’t believe.

The person who was being taken in right alongside Seth. A tall, slender guy about my age with a buzz cut. His name was Terry. I had seen his picture a million times; most recently right on his father’s desk where I sat at all day less than a week ago.

More From Thought Catalog

Sponsored

A Millennial Cheesemaker’s Guide To A Happy Life

Read more: https://thoughtcatalog.com/grant-butler/2018/10/something-suspicious-is-going-on-at-the-old-pine-grove-mall