#praying that justice will be served for the victims and their families

[enmi-land]

Dia did you know, people are saying that there were atleast 200 idols in that nth room that taeil was in ?

I feel so bad for that child, everyone in her life wronged her they failed that child.

Im glad its finally out and she's getting the justice she deserves but the fact that this has been going on for 6 years and none of had any clue just shows how two faced people can be it's really so disgusting

And the fact that there 200 more of these kind of idols really freaks me out

i found out about it recently and honestly it’s so sick. i remember when the original “nth room case” happened around 4 years ago, and it disgusts me that even to this day it’s happening again. telegram was an app that was made with good intentions, but it’s obviously causing more damage than good if yet another “nth room” case is happening on their app.

the victims deserve to have justice for this, and i sincerely hope the system doesn’t fail them. and to think that 200 people were in the same room, but haven’t been exposed yet… honestly, it disgusts me to my core. and the fact that the victim of taeil trash is only one year younger than me? 6 years ago, she would have only been 12. the fact that he even has a younger sister just shows how sick of a human being he is. honestly, jail would be too kind of a fate for the likes of him.

but yeah, people can definitely be two faced. like i said before, there are plenty of people who i believe are “good,” but that doesn’t mean i trust them enough to drive me home late at night if i need a lift. so i’m definitely not gonna trust someone i’ve only ever seen through a screen.

[dcdreamblog]

So I’m a little confused about the hero(?) called vigilante, he seems to be both a cowboy themed crime fighter and a violent psychopath in a power rangers suit. Are they different guys? Do they have any connection outside of the name?

They most certainly do not, the connection between Golden Age hero Greg Saunders and ANY of the murderers and sociopaths who have taken the name Vigilante after him is nonexistent and, in fact, any attempts to claim legitimacy from him are strongly condemned by Saunders.

(The portrait of Saunders currently on display at the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville, TN)

By now everyone on this blog should know Saunders. The son of a Wyoming lawman killed by criminal elements he took up the tools of the cowboy's trade and became a scourge to criminals from the Mississippi to the coast. He served with the 7 Soldiers of Victory and the All Star Squadron before being lost to time just after WWII, only recovered by an early case of the JLA. He has since mostly retired, married and settled down to a quiet life running a chain of western restaurants and serving as elected sheriff of a small town on the Mexican border.

(A photograph of Adrian Chase as Vigilante, firing back at pursuing police officers during an on foot chase) The man I believe you are referring to is disgraced former Manhattan judge and district attorney Adrian Chase. Originally a popular opponent to the city's organized crime he suffered a nervous breakdown after the death of his wife and children in a mob hit. Adopting the masked identity of the Vigilante he sought to mete out his own brand of justice across the big apple. He was a murderer. A mass murderer at that. A serial killer in every name but publicity. His body count stands at at least 300, most likely more, including at least two police officers. 35% of his victims had never been convicted of any crime. 15% had never been held in suspicion of one. Some people call Adrian Chase a controversial figure. I don't. Whether you like it or not, here is the unquestionable truth: Chase's actions did not eradicate the mafia in New York City. His activities made no significant statistical difference in crime rates. The guilt or innocence of many of his victims cannot be conclusively proven and less than 20% of his victims were ever under suspicion of a capital crime in the first place. Leaving ASIDE the fact that New York is a state with no death penalty by the will of its own population. The men he killed were criminals, people insist. I am educated and empathetic enough to know that crime, and organized crime in particular, are born out of poverty. Men and women from impoverished neighborhoods finding the only way out from under the system's boot. It is not a dragon you can slay, it's a side effect of a broken system. There is a REASON superheroes don't kill, even back to literal Nazi saboteurs in WWII. Because as of now we do not live in a society where we are meant to CHEER men in masks deciding who is allowed to live and who is supposed to die behind some condemned building in the dark. And I will never consent to living in a society where that is the case, especially when the victims of this kind of top down self righteousness on the part of a man who was meant to uphold and respect the rule of our laws and the rights of its accused will ALWAYS target those who are poor, marginalized or unwell above ANYONE else. My only regret in the life of Adrian Chase is that he managed to commit suicide before he could be publically arrested. Chase has been directly responsible as inspiration for at least 7 copycat killers, 2 following directly in the wake of his persona, 2 who are tied to the infamous mercenary hitman Deathstroke by the FBI, one in Metropolis, one in Gotham and one who is still currently at large in Los Angeles. I pray only that he is caught, unmasked and convicted before a jury of his peers. And that the families of those who any of these serial killers passed their "judgement" upon might someday find peace.

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (15)

Chapter: 15. The Darkest Hour

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language and violence (drowning, choking)

Summary: JJ and Y/n visit John B in jail while also planning on how to get him out.

A/N: Are you surprised? Me too baes. Enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments. Send me a message or comment if you wanna be tagged ;)

Available on Wattpad and AO3

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Rage fueled in your veins at the injustice of the system your brother had fallen victim to. John B was charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances and the possible death penalty. You sat throughout his trial, silently praying for the downfall of everyone sitting in the courtroom staring and whispering ill wishes his way.

Everything leading up to this moment had formed a deep pit that your heart just wanted to scream into. This didn’t make any sense, this wasn’t fair and the true cause of this was sitting a few feet away from you playing the part of the distraught victim. You didn’t realize you were staring and that they were taking John B away already.

There were no words of comfort that you could give him, there was no use, you would visit him as soon as he was processed into the system. Sarah called out to him and reached with her hand but was quickly pulled back by two officers standing in her path.

People filed out of the courtroom with praise to the judge and jury, grateful that ‘that criminal is finally off the streets’. Each word spoken in disrespect to your brother shortened the very short leash that your patience was on.

‘Justice is served’ ‘He had it coming’ Murmurs that were not made to be subtle were heard all around you. Each phrase made to jab at your brother was a tick in the timer of a bomb waiting to explode- you were going to explode. It wouldn’t do any good, of that you were sure, that was why you kept your mouth shut throughout the trial and as you walked outside with your friends.

Sarah's eyes and face were puffy from crying, you were sure she cried enough for the both of you, as soon as you got home you would be right next to her with tissues with matching tear streaks. “I should have never come home,” She stated.

��They’re gonna kill him, I know it” JJ commented.

“I am so sorry for what you and your family have gone through,” You heard an older kook say to Ward. “Thank God the system works.”

You turned from the direction you were walking in to face the voice that ignorantly spoke, “Can you shut up?” You walked their way and made your voice strong, “Of course, you think the system worked because it was made to protect you and people like you.”

“He’ll have his day in court and a jury will decide,” The man with peppered hair and fancy suit replied.

“He shouldn’t even be in court!” You exclaimed.

Kiara walked up from behind you a bitter look on her face, facing Ward and pointing directly at him as she spoke. “You should, ‘Cause you’re a murderer.”

You placed a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward, “You have a lot of nerve showing up to court. Showing your face while my brother is in jail with the possibility of the death penalty, because of you!”

Ward held out a hand like he was trying to calm a dog from attacking, “I know you’re upset. I understand you’re upset-”

“Upset?” You seethed. A couple of police officers had made their way to where the group that formed was standing. Against your better judgment, all the pent-up emotion came out as you lunged for Sarah’s father. “No, I’m not just upset!”

Shoupe from your left had gotten a hold of your elbow, Officer Thomas grabbed your right. They forcefully backed you up, Pope was behind you steadying you by your biceps warning Officer Thomas to get off of you. JJ, Sarah, and Kie blocked their way to you as soon as you were released.

“Why don’t you take the kooks down for a change Shoupe?” JJ asked the officer.

“You wanna get arrested?” Shoupe stared you down, He pointed at your group “Get out! You need to go.”

You saw red, you didn’t care if you went to jail or got the death penalty so long as Ward was dead. Whatever awaited him in the afterlife had better be something worse than hell for everything you and your friends had to go through. You inhaled hoping it would help the ongoing anger.

Sarah put her arm around your shoulders, “C’mon. It’s not worth it.”

“I'm so sorry, you shouldn’t be going through this,” Deputy Plumb’s voice was heard consoling the Camerons. You shook your head and rolled your eyes refusing to look over, thankfully Kie spoke up for you.

“It’s not a coincidence that your daughter’s sitting with us!”

~~~

By the time the pogues were settled in the Chateau, the weather had matched everyone's mood. It seems like everyone had gone through the five stages of grief within the hour. On the way to your house, furious comments were made by Kie and JJ in your defense, in John B’s, and on the audacity of the people who had no fucking clue what was actually going on. Silence took over for a good twenty minutes, surprisingly not a word from JJ, the only sound coming from the rain pattering on top of the roof.

“I’m gonna testify under oath, I was there” Sarah announced. “I just need to get a hold of my sister.”

“Sister?” JJ muttered under his breath.

“I was there too,” You said. “His sister and his girlfriend, they’ll discredit us without a thought Sarah.”

“We would be under oath, they can’t just arrest us if they think we’re lying. We have to try,” She responded. “Kie, Do you have your phone? Wheezie is the only other person that knows Rafe wasn’t home that day.”

“Wheezie?” JJ breathed incredulously.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Kie hands Sarah her phone. “I got us into this mess, I’m gonna do my best to get us out.”

Wheezie was a smart girl but if she was the only hope to get John B out of jail, you didn’t know if you would put all your eggs in that particular basket.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” JJ scoffed. “Well, she’s right about one thing. We gotta do something, Our boy is held captive by the enemy right now, maybe even scheduled for execution. Are we just gonna sit here?”

“What’s the plan then?” Kiara stood from the armchair in the corner of the porch. “We start by kidnapping Shoupe?”

“That’s not the worst idea actually.” The scary part is, he looked deadly serious. You couldn’t help but cackle, exhaustion and delirium were what kept you going. 

You love him, in moments like this when everything was so utterly fucked, it scared you how much the feeling overwhelmed you. The way he kept fighting for your brother made you feel safe. Although it was the most outrageous idea but that was JJ.

Kie and JJ stopped their bickering to give you an odd look, the silence and a full minute of laughing like a crazy person to the point of tears falling out of the corners of your eyes, you stabilized yourself. You wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“That is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” You told the blue-eyed boy.

“It’s pretty bad.” Sarah agreed from inside the house as she typed away at Kie’s phone.

“Just stay out of this, okay?” JJ’s annoyance with Sarah was obvious.

“No, honestly though,” Pope’s features were stern. “What is the actual plan? You’re gonna storm a jail, guns a-blazing?”

“All I’m trying to get you to understand is they got our boy,” Pope and JJ are face to face now. “Are just gonna sit here and do nothing? No! We’re gonna get his ass, we’re gonna do something about it!”

The enthusiasm was encouraged but so was logical thinking. You watched as Pope tried to keep JJ from ‘thinking’ out his plans.

“We’re not storming a jail, it’s not happening.”

“Fine, man. Sit in your comfy chair and do nothing.” He looked you in the eye in full seriousness, an invitation to follow him in his plan yet his words trying to shame you all for not wanting to take immediate action. “I’m gonna see what I can do, make something happen. Even if I have to do it by myself.”

JJ runs out of the front porch, straight for his bike.

“Should we be worried?” Pope asks.

“Yes,” Kie sighs and shrugs. “I’m gonna git up my parents and see if I can get money for a lawyer.”

You decide to let Kie and Pope talk amongst themselves about the logistics and go after JJ was sitting on his bike, almost like he was waiting for you.

“Change your mind, Princess?” He takes off his cap and places it on your head to shield you from the rain even though it’s pointless now.

You swing your leg over the bike to straddle it and wrap your arms around his waist. “Just go before I change it again.”

~~~

“Now where exactly are you taking us?” You say in his ear as he whips past all his cars on his bike.

“We’re going to visit a certain jailbird!”

You weren’t sure if it was even allowed considering it had only been hours since he was sentenced but you knew that JJ would find a way.

Turns out his plan was fucking stupid, not reckless for once, and for that, you were thankful but definitely stupid. He parked by a tree in front of the Kildare County detention center, and two officers walked down the steps and right past the both of you. JJ being extra, stood at attention and saluted them as they walked. You look at him annoyed and he simply smiles, you push him in front to follow his lead.

JJ did some thoughtless acts but Jesus he looked good doing them. He stopped by his house to change from his wet clothes that were soaked from the rain to a pair of dry jeans and a clean white shirt. He also grabbed his headphones and mp3 player. He fixed his hair, put on a pair of sunglasses and suddenly he was giving James Dean. It was bad timing for your heart to stutter the way it did when you saw him change his shirt in front of you as if you hadn’t seen him shirtless before.

It was over when he pulled out a shirt- your shirt- from deep within his messy closet. It was from when you slept over that one time, you must have left it here and forgot to pack it. The moment felt so domestic, too domestic, it messed with your emotions and you already have too many with everything going on.

You trained yourself to focus on the task at hand, ignoring the wrongness you felt from the sleepover with JJ and then actually having sex with Rafe (with some feelings that you’d rather not get into), the treasure, John B in jail… it was all too much.

“We’re here to see John B Routledge,” JJ said loudly. He had his headphones on with the volume to his music all the way up.

“No music, and get rid of the toothpick.” The man at the front desk enunciated his words.

“I can’t hear what you’re saying man, these things are on full blast.” JJ tapped on his headphones, not caring at all what the officer had to say. “We’re here to see John B Routledge.”

The officer looked to you, “Can you get your friend to take his headphones off? There’s no music allowed and you both need to clear your pockets if you wanna see the inmate.”

“Can do, sir.” You place your empty wallet that only had a couple of bucks and your permit, and your phone (that was dead). “He, unfortunately, has a mind of his own.”

He took a breath and mimed what he wanted JJ to do, taking off the headphones and toothpick.

JJ glanced at you then at the man and took off the headphones hanging them around his neck, “I mean, I thought it was a free country and all but I guess you don’t like freedom very much. Now do you, cupcake?” He smiled slyly, leaning on the desk with his forearm.

Now you supposed you shouldn’t be surprised by what he had the balls to say but your jaw fell open anyway, you covered your mouth and looked around to see if anyone else had heard that.

Turns out the Officer had enough of JJ toying with him and took JJ by his biceps and pinned him to the wall. You picked at your nail nervously, until the Deputy came and told the front desk guy that it wasn’t worth it.

JJ kept a wide smile as he saw her, “Good to see you Plumb. Nice to have something in your mouth, you know.”

“Take off your hat and empty your pockets.”

“Yes, ma’am.” JJ finally did what was told and placed his things next to yours winking at you when Plumb led the way to where you can see John B.

You flinched as you passed by a prisoner who slammed a fist on the window of his cell. He called out to you, “Why don’t you come in here?”

Next to you, JJ guided you to go in front of him through the threshold of the visitation area, Plumb told you both that you only had five minutes.

There he was, in an orange jumpsuit, wrists in cuffs. You wanted to hug him, tell him it was gonna be okay and that you were gonna get him out of this. The only one of those things you were gonna be able to do is the latter and only if you were able to figure out a plan which you didn’t have.

You sat to John B’s right, getting a good look at him now, his eye was still bruised from the beating they gave him when he was first arrested. The anger came bubbling back that formed in tears until you all looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“I thought it was gonna be me,” JJ chuckled.

“I think we all did,” You sniffed.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

“When you said you had a new apartment, I had no idea,” JJ fidgeted with the visitation card they handed you both as you were officially signed in to visit.

You patted the top of the metal table, “It’s cozy. A little aluminum theme.”

“Yeah, I like to go for the cold, dark…”

“Alone, kind of theme?” JJ continued John B’s description for him, they nodded in sync. “Look, I would love to sit and chitchat but I’m on the clock and I’m here for one reason only, okay?”

Your eyes widened as you thought about the jailbreak idea JJ was playing with earlier. Was this it?

“Operation liberation, baby.” You facepalmed once the words came out of his mouth.

“Hear me out though, step one; piss off the cops so badly they don’t see what’s coming.” He waved at an officer that walked by the window looking in. “Check.”

“Was that what that whole thing was?” You slapped his arm, “A warning would have been nice.”

“Your right, I could’ve used some backup but your reaction was hilarious so it’s fine,” JJ was delusional. You ignored the fact that he really thought he was gonna pull this off as he laid out his plan. “Step two; at exactly 11 p.m. this evening, you’re going to have an attack of acute appendicitis.”

John B looked like he was doing the same thing you were, “Do you even know what appendicitis is?”

JJ’s pupils were dilated as he explained, “Remember eighth grade, algebra final?”

“Jesus Christ,” John B breathed. JJ faked appendicitis once before a test in eighth grade and was able to get away with it and this was the plan he was going with. You were glad you knew how it worked to visit JB in jail now since you were gonna have to get used to the process.

“It worked like a charm, to sell it, you gotta actually look sick though okay?” Not an ounce of a joke was heard in his voice. “You got some of that ghost face sunblock in here?”

“Be so fucking for real right now,” You kept your face in your hands stressfully, your head shaking in disbelief.

“JJ, I’m in jail. I have a block of soap, that’s it.”

“Is it white?”

Hesitantly John B replied “Yes-”

“Perfect, that’ll work. Take some of that, rub it into your face well, got it? You don’t want that shit rubbing off when they check your vitals.” JJ added. “After that, run your hands under cold water for five minutes. After that, you’re ready. Showtime baby, stumble out and collapse. Once you’re down on the ground squealing, they’ll rush you to the infirmary. There, you just have to convince the nurse that that sucker’s about to burst.”

He began to visually show John B the details of where the nurse will check him, John B’s acting skills would have to be absolutely flawless and without any doubt to pull all that off.

“I get it, I get it.” John B glances behind his shoulder and leans in closer, “Then what?”

“No fucking way, John B,” You stare at him in disbelief. “JJ he’s not doing this.”

JJ didn’t acknowledge you, “They’re gonna eject you to the hospital. Remember Cousin Ricky?”

“The weed dealer?” You questioned.

“He’s an EMT.”

“He sold us our first dime bag,” John B mentions.

“So? You can do both. It’s a gig economy, bro.” JJ shrugs. “Now, step three is extraction.”

“This is the dumbest freaking idea you’ve ever had.” John B states, at least you weren’t the only one thinking it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right but you know what’s even more dumb? You thinking you got any other way out of this.”

“JJ, this is a fortress.” John B explains, “They've got barbed wire, cinder blocks, guards on every corner-”

JJ stops John B from shutting him down further. “Don’t, you’re not the detail guy. Leave it to the professionals.”

“If you think that we’re the professionals in this you’re so mistaken,” You shake your head in disapproval.

Plumb was by the door telling you both that your time with your brother was up.

“You gotta trust me on this one,” JJ says and moves out of his seat giving John B his last words. “Nothing to lose now, 11 P.M.”

John B stares at you with a silent question, you squeeze his hand before leaving the visitation area behind JJ. Plumb led you down an unfamiliar path to the exit. She scans her badge before opening a metal door, JJ goes through first and goes towards another door to the right. It was an inmate basketball court, his dad was dribbling and blocking against another prisoner.

“Dad!” JJ pounds on the door trying to get Luke’s attention. “Dad!”

“Let’s go,” Plumb shoves JJ away from the door. If you didn’t know any better you would say she brought you both this way on purpose to get a rise of him. It was her way of giving him a sign that said ‘You could just as easily end up here.’

Seems like JJ caught on as well, he clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly as he noted, “I see what you did there Plumb.”

Your jaw tightened as you saw the way she was handling JJ, forcing him out of the center. “I just have one question before we leave. How much are you splitting with Shoupe?”

She shoved you harshly into JJ, “You’ll be back here one day, both of you. It’s in your blood.”

JJ started to walk away defeated but you wouldn’t, you couldn’t. This wasn’t what your life would be, not yours, not JJ’s. John B was wrongly accused and JJ was not his dad, “Fuck you, bi-”

“Y/n, come on.” JJ put his hand on the small of your back to lead you away from the officer who was meant to ‘protect and serve’.

“What a bitch!” You spat. The nerve of her, you had taunted her but deep down you knew that she was probably getting a major payday from Ward. Instead of letting you see your brother in peace, she just had to bring you down even further as if she wasn’t breaking major laws. “She’s a hypocrite JJ, she's not a fucking fortune teller to tell us what our future will look like.”

He didn’t say anything in response solely making sure you were ready before revving up the bike and driving away from the detention center.

~~~

You told him you weren’t going to join him in his plans, he looked disappointed but since he was off from earlier he left you at the Chateau without a fight. You felt guilty knowing JJ definitely had a lack of support but you would only be a hindrance to the plan if you did go along with it. Instead, you found Sarah in one of John B’s shirts already several feet away from the house.

You ran up to her and asked her if she got in contact with Wheezie to which she said she was on her way to meet her.

“We’re here,” She whispered to herself clutching her gunshot wound as she checked the other side of the dock.

Wheezie apparently had texted her to meet her at the harbor. You went straight and paused, Rafe came around the corner. “Sarah,” You said in a small voice backing away slowly.

“Nah not wheezie.”

“Where the hell is Wheezie?” Sarah questioned from behind you.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe stepped closer with his hands half up in surrender. “Listen, it’s all good. I- I just needed to talk to you for a little bit.”

The stutter in his voice concerned you, he was out of it and it was only you and Sarah out here on the docks at night with this psychopath. Every step he took to close the distance between the three of you, you and Sarah held hands and stepped away.

“Is that okay?” He asked looking at you and then at Sarah. He reached for you “Y/n-”

“Don’t come near me,” You held your hand out in front of you defensively.

He sighed and focused his attention on Sarah, “What you do affects me, you don’t think of that, do you?”

“You shot me, Rafe.”

“That’s it, right?” He exasperated. “It’s always my fault like you know, I wanna keep what’s mine. That I got by my work and I’m the bad guy for trying to- to hold on to it?”

His pacing and waving of his hands while he talks make it clear that he’s unhinged. In comparison to the way, you and Sarah are frozen in your spots waiting for Rafe to make one move.

“It’s not yours,” Sarah tries to express.

“Like I’m wrong to protect what’s mine, huh?” His voice raises a couple more octaves. Chills run up your arms at his projection. Your mind takes you back to the night you spent together and you suddenly feel nauseous. His voice softens as he approaches Sarah, “Listen to me. The cops are going to talk to you and I need to make sure the story’s straight.”

Sarah speaks up, “You killed Peterkin. My story’s straight, listen this would go so much better for you if you would-”

His eyes roll to the back of his head in a lazy drug hazed way, “Who are you trying to protect here?”

“I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“You doing the right thing is the reason that you got shot because you were following John B.”

“John B might get the death penalty because of you!” She snaps.

“That!” Rafe points as he backs away and sits on a barrel. “That right there is exactly what I’m talking about Sarah, you’ve always been against me!”

She shakes her head, no, A threatening tone takes over “Don’t shake your head, you still are. You’re not just against me, you’re against us and you know, Dad always takes your side. Cause you’re gonna cry in front of him like you cried in front of me, but you- both of you listen to me. I am a proactive type of person and we have a problem, and I gotta solve that problem tonight.”

You glance at Sarah who’s shaking where she stands, you inch to the right, and Rafe follows your movement with his eyes.

“Do you understand?” He asks then shouts it at the both of you again, “Do you understand!”

You and Sarah took that as the queue to run. He runs after you, you were faster as you got a headstart but that meant that Sarah got caught by Rafe. He slammed her against a large blue plastic container that held water.

“Rafe!” You screamed, “Rafe!”

“Back off Y/n, I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

You heard Sarah begging Rafe to stop, you ran back and tried to push him off of her but with one hand he backhands you to the ground.

With a hand on your left cheek, he made you bleed with a ring he was wearing, “You’re drowning your sister!”

“She’s not my sister!” He shouted back at you with a harsh tone. “Not anymore.”

Sarah’s tears flowed freely, she let out a whimper as he tightened his grip on her throat. “Rafe, please.” You begged.

“Y/n I swear to god!” His voice was close to a growl.

“You swear to God what?” You lifted yourself up from the ground and came closer to where Rafe was drowning Sarah. You were hoping to bait him into letting Sarah go and focus his attention on you. If he was distracted enough to taunt you or hurt you then maybe Sarah would have a chance to breathe. “You’d hurt me? Cause you already have, Rafe.”

He screams as Sarah struggles, she gasps with two seconds of air before she is submerged again.

You try to pry him off of her but he releases her instead and grabs your wrists as he had many times before. “I would never hurt you, Y/n, she brought this on herself!”

His fingers were white and you felt your bones being compressed from his hold. His nails were digging into your skin making you want to kneel and clutch your arms but he was too strong. Sarah was free and coughing up the water in her lungs, exhausted from her fight. His right hand comes up and clutches your throat.

“I loved you,” You whispered.

His forehead was on yours, stray fell from his eye and onto your cheek, “I love you too, Y/n.”

You kept his eyes trained on yours without giving him doubt despite the fact that you were getting strangled by your former lover. You attempted to breathe air but the hold he had on your throat prevented your airways from being able to inhale properly.

Topper- who you had no idea where he came from- has a finger to his lips as he inches closer and whacks him in the head.

Rafe fell onto his back and you wheeze, able to breathe again, you go to Sarah who holds an arm out for you.

“Sarah, are you okay?” Topper rushes to her side and asks her, “Can you breathe?”

She nods and hugs him, your hands were on your knees, and you look at Rafe on the ground and sob. All your previous moments with him, your confession to him, his confession to you. What had just happened. He drowned Sarah and strangled you while confessing to being in love with you.

You felt nausea come back up again, you couldn’t hold it. Your insides came up and out through your mouth, you vomited in the dark water at the edge of the dock.

~~~

Next Chapter

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[sloshed-cinema]

Accattone (1961)

A subset of postwar Italian cinema is defined by listlessness. Yet whereas something like Fellini’s Il bidone still finds rambunctious frivolity in these layabouts and ne’er-do-well youths, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s feature debut (how!?) looks at a blasted Rome with a bitter gaze. Aside from some tongue-in-cheek gallows humor of the opening scene, all laughter in this film is a scream into the void. Accattone’s posse laugh to keep from crying over a man mock-eating flowers as they starve, waiting for a meager plate of pasta to serve eight to finish cooking. Joining up with the local thief Balilla to earn a few lira, Accattone and the boss swap jabs at how bad henchman Cartagine’s feet smell because he hasn’t washed in a long time. Everyone laughs too hard, on the edge of hysterics. This small drama plays out in an outer Rome which resembles a trash heap: crumbling buildings dot neighborhoods, rubble litters the streets, and bottles that girls clean to earn some cash are stacked everywhere. The police exist to harass some people arbitrarily, miscarry justice, and pack away people seeking money illicitly because they feel there is no alternative. Spying on his estranged partner Ascenza, Accattone looks at her family through a hole in the wall of a derelict building: Roman ruins, but of a less storied chapter in Italian history than produced the Coliseum. And when one of Accattone’s associates prays mockingly to whatever patron saint may exist for starvation, the camera tilts reverently upward but only finds a blank and anonymous structure. These people have been abandoned in one sense or other.

But despite these tragedies, make no mistake: Accattone is a rat bastard. He decries all gainful employment, abuses the women in his life, and claims that forcing them to work as prostitutes is his own work. Money is always squandered whenever he has it, and lamented when he doesn’t. As with others, he is disillusioned by the world around him, and he’s chosen to lash out in blind rage at all for it. His cruelty is apparent in twin tracking shots in which he pursues first Ascenza and then Stella, his new victim. They move toward the camera, this choice making him inescapable, and similar dynamics play out, if the aggression is at different temperatures. In portraying both his central character and the situation at large in alternately sympathetic and horrified manners, Pasolini indicts everything about this situation.

THE RULES

SIP

A Bach piece starts to play.

Someone makes a bet.

Someone starts to sing.

BIG DRINK

Someone says they are ruined.

A section of Rome is named.

[selenastaylors]

wow this jay z news…now is not the time to use this as a stan gotchu moment. im praying for all the families and victims involved and i hope that justice is rightfully served and these disgusting men get the punishment they deserve

[beardedmrbean]

RICHMOND, Va. (WRIC) — Amari Pollard, the defendant in the Huguenot graduation shooting trial, has pleaded guilty to two charges, including first-degree murder.

According to Richmond City Commonwealth’s Attorney Colette McEachinn, on Thursday, Feb. 29, Amari Pollard, 20, pleaded guilty to both charges of first-degree murder and use of a firearm in commission of a felony during the fourth day of the trial of Huguenot High School graduation shooting that killed 18-year-old Shawn Jackson.

Pollard was sentenced to 43 years with 18 suspended. He will serve 25 years in prison.

Pollard took the stand to testify Thursday, saying that he shot Jackson because he was scared for his life and that he was running away from him when he heard someone say “shoot him.” That’s when Pollard fired his gun, according to his testimony.

Prosecutors, challenging Pollard’s story, pointed to surveillance video which they said shows that Pollard shot Jackson from behind, and emphasized the fact that Jackson was shot a total of six times.

After hearing Pollard’s testimony, the judge ruled that there was not enough evidence for a self-defense claim and that the argument could not be included in jury instructions.

McEachin shared the following statement following the guilty plea:

“I want to thank the family for their strength in this eight-month ordeal, thank Richmond Police, especially Jeff Crewell, for a thorough investigation that resulted in the FBI being able to compile a video from a number of sources that set out a timeline that showed the defendant running around a group of people to get to the point where he could shoot Shawn Jackson six times. This has been a day that the City of Richmond and Richmond Public Schools and public spaces like the Altria Theater will never forget, and the defendant’s callous and thoughtless actions in a public graduation in a public space in the middle of the afternoon are the sole reason that he is going to serve 25 years in prison. His actions and his actions alone.”

Richmond City School Board member Jonathan Young shared the following statement with 8News:

“An excruciating eight months for everyone at Huguenot finally has some resolution, even if still too many questions are unresolved. I pray for better days at Huguenot, everyone there deserves it.”

Richmond Mayor Levar Stoney shared the following statement with 8News:

“Today, justice has been served. Thank you to the Commonwealth’s Attorney and the Richmond Police Department for their service to deliver justice to the victims, their families and the community. This guilty plea is a step towards healing for Huguenot High School, Richmond Public Schools and the city of Richmond.”

Richmond Public Schools also shared the following statement:

“June 6 was intended to be a joyful day for Richmond graduates. Instead, it ended in a senseless tragedy that took two lives, and destroyed countless others. We continue to mourn the loss of Shawn Jackson and his step-father Lorenzo Smith, and pray that Mrs. Jackson-Smith finds some closure and peace with the conclusion of the trial. We encourage any students or staff retraumatized by the legal proceedings to seek support from a family member or friend, a trusted colleague, or a healthcare provider. 

Far too many children in our community continue to be impacted by gun violence every day. We plead with all of Richmond to continue working, by any means necessary, to eliminate this devastating epidemic and its root causes. We owe that to Shawn, and to all the children and youth of this city.”

More information about the shooting, subsequent investigation and trial can be found here.

[thegothamregister]

Grim Discovery : Mutilated Body Found on Harlem Bank River

January 5th, 1895

New York City, 1895 — a city too often hardened to horror finds itself shocked by an unthinkable act of violence. On the frigid banks of the Harlem River near Mott Haven, an unsettling scene unfolded in the early hours of yesterday morning: the mutilated remains of a young man, his life stolen in an act so brutal that even the city’s grizzled detectives are left shaken. Despite orders to withhold details, this reporter feels it is his duty to expose the truth to the public.

The Terrible Discovery

The body, discovered by a barge worker navigating the icy shoreline, was found near 35th Street — a location that has sparked immense controversy and suspicion. Police initially withheld identifying information, but sources confirmed that the victim, aged between 16 and 21, bore injuries so heinous they challenge even the darkest tales whispered among the city’s alleys. His features were nearly unrecognizable, the mutilation deliberate, and his eyeballs were removed as if to strip the body of identity itself. Adding to the horror was a long, surgically precise, deep streak down his abdomen, suggesting an executioner with a chilling level of expertise.

This is no random street murder nor a gang-related squabble gone awry. The nature of this crime speaks to precision, rage, and calculation, painting a grim portrait of the one who committed it.

The Scandal of Silence

For all its moral sermons, New York has perfected the art of burying its sins. Officials close to the investigation quickly closed ranks, citing the need to "protect ongoing inquiries." Even the papers — complicit watchdogs that they are — were instructed to hold their tongues. Yet does secrecy serve justice? Or does it merely cloak the misdeeds of those who pull the strings?

At the heart of the matter lies the shocking location of the crime. The victim’s body was dumped near 35th Street, a district not known for sordid affairs but rather for the wealthier set—where carriages rattle across clean cobblestones and parlors glow with gaslight elegance. What, pray tell, does it mean when a mutilated boy is discarded there like refuse?

One cannot help but speculate: Was this a message meant for someone influential? Or does the killer merely feel untouchable amidst the wealth of this hallowed ground?

Who Was the Victim?

Behind every grisly headline lies a person. However, in this case, identifying the young man is a challenge of its own. Naked and disfigured, the victim’s identity is a mystery. Yet one clue presents itself, both puzzling and sinister. A piece of notebook paper was found stuffed into the victim’s mouth. The fragment bore the number “272” and what appeared to be the beginning of a street name, though the piece was cruelly torn and incomplete.

Adding to the intrigue, the precision of the abdominal wound and the absence of personal effects suggest premeditation and an unsettling degree of clinical detachment. Is the victim a random casualty, or did he fall prey to someone who saw him as more than mere flesh?

A City Uneasy

The case has inflamed every strata of New York society. On the tenement stoops and in the mansions’ back kitchens, the whispers grow louder. Is this the work of a deranged murderer, a gang lord with a twisted sense of justice, or someone far higher on the social ladder? No one feels entirely safe, nor should they, as the perpetrator clearly moves among us with both cunning and confidence.

For Mott Haven's working-class families, this crime is a grim reminder that the city’s cruelties spare no one, while the proximity to 35th Street has the city’s upper echelons glancing nervously over their shoulders. One can feel the palpable tension hanging over the city’s precinct houses, where hushed voices and tight-lipped detectives signal something far graver than they admit.

Defying the Curtain of Secrecy

This reporter, though at risk of reprisal, refuses to heed the demands to stay silent. Why should this boy’s death be shrouded in secrecy ? Whose interests does silence serve ? The heart of a city lies in its conscience, and today, New York’s conscience teeters on the brink of being bought off by privilege and power.

To whoever committed this heinous crime, let me assure you: Gaslight and ink have power. You may conceal the crime, twist its story, even silence those in power, but the truth burns brighter than the city’s grandest chandeliers. And someone — perhaps this very reporter — will not let your atrocities lie forgotten on the icy shores of the Harlem River.

Nathaniel Fairfax

[kilosch]

Recently

Life has a way of throwing you into battles you didn’t expect, and Alaska was no different for me. I’d been working as an EMT for the fire department, but my heart was in law enforcement—serving as a SWAT medic. The job pushed me to my limits, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The hardest part wasn’t the cold or the long hours; it was the losses. Patients, teammates, victims—22 people gone under my care. Many of them were victims of the drug epidemic that tore through the villages, and some I knew personally. Families were destroyed, and communities were hollowed out. It left me angry, frustrated, and determined. I couldn’t sit by anymore.

One day, I got a call from a buddy in the police department. He told me about a multi-agency task force forming to take down a major organized crime leader responsible for the drug crisis. It wasn’t just a local effort—federal and state agencies were involved. He thought I’d be a good fit, especially with my background and knowledge of the terrain.

I told him I needed time to think. The operation was set for January 2025, giving me only a short window to decide. I spoke with my family and loved ones, and the reactions were mixed. Some wanted me to move on, to leave Alaska and its pain behind. But I couldn’t. This was my chance to do something—something meaningful.

I joined the task force and flew to Alaska, where training began immediately. For 2 days, we trained 16 hours a day. The team was a mix of operators: federal agents, Alaska State Troopers, tribal officers from BIA, and even local police. We drilled relentlessly, refining CQB (close-quarters battle) techniques, practicing breaching strategies, and memorizing the layout of the target compound.

The compound itself was a two-story ranch surrounded by dense snow-covered terrain. We had mock-ups of the house, and we ran scenario after scenario, simulating every possible complication. The cold was unforgiving, and exhaustion set in quickly, but none of us could afford to make mistakes.

Between training sessions, I worked on maintaining my rifle and gear. I made sure my lasers, optics, and breaching tools were all in perfect condition. I also spent time mentally preparing. Before the operation, I wrote a letter to my loved ones in Filipino, just in case I didn’t make it back. It was heavy, but necessary.

The operation began before dawn on Day 3 . We woke up at 1 AM and gathered for a traditional send-off ceremony led by Native Alaskan elders. They saged us, marked our faces with corn powder, and prayed for our safety. It was deeply emotional—a reminder of the lives lost and the justice we were seeking.

After the ceremony, we geared up. My team leader told us to double-check everything—rifles, comms, breaching tools—because there would be no room for error. We loaded into vans and headed to the airfield, where military Black Hawks were waiting for us. Seeing the helicopters was a surprise; they bore the emblem of the 160th SOAR, the “Night Stalkers.” Their presence hinted at the seriousness of this operation.

The flight into the wilderness was tense. We didn’t perform dramatic fast ropes or water jumps like special forces in movies, but the three helicopters landing in the middle of nowhere was enough to alert anyone nearby. We dispersed into the terrain quickly, hiking for hours under the cover of darkness. The Arctic environment was brutally cold, but we pressed on.

At around 3 AM, we reached the compound. Our intelligence team had confirmed the location of the target—a heavily armed and dangerous leader of an organized drug network. The ranch was massive, with security scattered across the property. The environment worked in our favor; the guards were spread too thin to notice our approach.

Our assault team moved in first. I was assigned to breaching, so I set up the charges on the main door while listening to the other team shout, “Police!” The explosion blew the door open, and we rushed in, clearing room after room. The entire house was secured in under two minutes.

We found the target hiding in a bathtub, armed with a modified Glock capable of automatic fire. For a moment, I just stared at him. I wanted to hit him, to let out all the anger I’d been holding onto, but I stayed professional. Other teams were still securing the perimeter, dealing with shootouts as guards tried to flee. Fortunately, none of our team was injured

After securing the main compound, the operation didn’t end. Intelligence gathered on-site led us to additional targets in nearby locations. We spent two more days in the field, hiking through snow-covered terrain, setting up ambushes, and coordinating with other teams. Sleep was scarce, and the freezing temperatures made everything harder.

The environment was nothing like urban SWAT operations. There were no armored vehicles or quick response times. Every move had to be deliberate, and we had to rely on each other to survive the conditions. By the end of the operation, we had arrested several key players and dismantled a significant portion of the drug network.

When it was finally over, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. We’d achieved our goal: the main suspect was in custody, and the community had some semblance of justice. But for me, it still wasn’t enough. The memories of the people we’d lost, the families torn apartit’s a weight I carry every day.

This operation gave me closure, but it also left me wondering what’s next. The battle against this epidemic isn’t over, and I don’t know where my path will lead from here. All I know is that I’ll keep fightingfor those we lost and for the ones we can still save.

Let me know if you’d like me to expand on any specific details, or if there’s anything you want to add or change!

[writesaboutdragons]

365 Promises of God

Day 298 – Vengeance is Mine. I Will Repay

Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but [rather] give place to wrath; for it is written, "Vengeance [is] Mine, I will repay," says the Lord. (Rom 12:19 NKJV)

Read: Romans 12

In the movie, The Godfather II, Antonio Andolini refuses to pay tribute to Don Ciccio, and is murdered. His sons vow revenge, but one is murdered, and the other, Vito, barely gets away, because his mother holds Ciccio at knife point. They murder Vito’s mother and search the town for him, but the townspeople help Vito hide and escape. He changes his name to Cito Corleone to evade the mob. After 20 years, he returns to Sicily, where Don Ciccio is now an 80-year-old man. He has returned under the pretext of getting Don Ciccio’s ‘blessing’ for Vito to start up an olive oil company, but his real reason for being there is revenge.

The two bodyguards who murdered his family, Mosca and Strollo are first to go. When Vito comes to Ciccio and kisses his mafia ring, Don Ciccio asks him who his father is. Vito delivers the most memorable line in the movie. “My father's name is Antonio Andolini. And this is for you”, immediately slicing him open.

He and his partner barely escape with their lives, but the scene is extremely satisfying to the general public. The old mafia boss had it coming to him, slaughtering that family without mercy. In fact, many people asked why he waited twenty years to exact revenge?

“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” It’s a maxim quoted by Khan in Star Trek III, The Wrath of Khan. It’s origins are fuzzy, but the idiom is at least 200 years old. It means that it’s best to wait, bide your time, until your victim does not expect it. Till they believe they’ve gotten away with what they did.

Public opinion polls are mixed on this subject, but the vast majority believe that nobody wants to wait for cold revenge. They want it hot and ready, as soon as an offense is known. Even if there’s no time to plan and plot. Less right now is better than perfect revenge 20 years from now.

But the Bible has a different idiom to share, dear Christian. It’s our verse for today. While we might want to exact revenge, it’s not God’s way to let us do this. It allows sin in the camp. Instead, God suggests we pray for them. Serve them. Give them food and drink. Because God isn’t blind, and he’ll take revenge, in due time, and his justice will be perfect.

Prayer:

Lord, help me to wait on you, for I know that you love me and will repay. Help me trust you more, today. Amen

[do-you-remember-summer-127]

I’m signing off the the rest of the day, this day is making me sick. I’m so scared for the world children are being raised in. I saw my niece today and I just wanted to hold her close and protect her from all the nastiness of the outside world. I’m going to pray tonight harder than I ever have, for all those involved. For the the victim)s), for their families, for friends of both parties who are experiencing their worlds turning upside down, and for nct who are probably going through a lot. I hope the families and the victim(s) are able to find peace during these times after justice is served. Goodnight to everyone and once again please be safe and hold your loved ones tight during times like this

[speedytimemachineblizzard]

**PLEASE READ AND PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME** IM FEELING DEFEATED, Although HE IS CURRENTLY IN JAIL AWAITING A JUDGE FOR MORE DEFINITE SENTENCING, I FEEL LIKE HE WILL STILL SOMEHOW GET OUT WITHIN A WEEK, AS CRAZY AS THAT SOUNDS...ITS HAPPENED MORE TIMES THAN I COULD COUNT. REACHING OUT ON HERE IS ONE OF LAST RESORTS. I STILL DONT FEELL SAFE. AND NEITHER DO MY KIDS. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! Praying this will finally be the time they keep him locked up, but not feeling too confident.

Karma AT it's absolute finest was served on the very FIRST DAY OF 2024 too for a certain person I know. Today was Veda's 7th birthday, but this certain someone decided he had wanted to celebrate his way. All of my tires are now slashed, so as a result of that and not having the funds bc of back to back December birthdays and Christmas, I couldn't purchase tires, we couldn't take Veda out to celebrate her special day. She woke up to cops having to be called. My friends tires were also slashed, also this person stole my friend's debit card and car keys. I could go on and on but 6 charges currently, most definitely 7 when he is seen by a judge tomorrow or Wednesday. He admitted to cops he knew it was Veda's birthday, and that was how he chose to celebrate With trauma and memories I know she will never forget. I did my best to make her day that much more special, but my mommy heart can't stop aching for her. This person was also hiding in my laundry room outside for many hours before he was caught. This person also, yet again, violated the restraining order I have on him. I think this is the 5th time now. The system fails me and my children time and time again, he gets away with everything, all the time. And will continue to do so because he knows there will be no true consequences for it. This event was by far the most malicious and I am even more afraid now than I already was. Some may say that me posting this will make him retaliate. Yea...he mostly likely will. But I've been silent for 4 years, no communication with the person and he "retaliates"regardless. And since the court system won't serve justice, I'm talking it upon myself to reach out for help/advice. I've asked for guidance from Victims assistance, cops, and unfortunately something like my life has to be taken in order for anyone to take any REAL action. I can't afford a lawyer, it's not possible or ideal for me to move. This has been our family home for 15 years. Is there anyone, or even anyone who knows ANYONE, who can help me keep my children and I safe from this violent person? How, other than him talking my life, do I go about finding someone that will hold him accountable? Why is domestic violence treated like a minor issue that's not worth handling. He gets a slap on the wrist and a free pass to go back out into the world, basically allowing him another chance to "get me" again. This has been going on for years. Plz don't send negativity my way, and plz no judgement for my decision to take it to FB...just know bringing it here was truly my last resort.

Tonight we ended our night with pizza and ice cream and presents.. and even when we sung happy birthday to her, my whole heart was just breaking for her. She deserves the world. She is one of the sweetest souls I know. Please send me in any direction that will help us.

Karma was he got arrested within 5 minutes, whereas most times, he runs away and GETS away. Leaving us terrified to even sleep at night.

[crimechannels]

By • Olalekan Fagbade NSCDC reacts as suspected gunmen kill four Civil Defence operatives The Commandant-General of the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC), Dr. Ahmed Abubakar Audi, has vowed to fish out killers of four corps’ operatives in Rivers State. Audi, who spoke in Port Harcourt during his visit to Rivers State to condole with the families of the deceased, charged the personnel to be resolute saying there should be no compromise in the ongoing war against oil theft. The victims were killed by gunmen at Alakiri, Degema local Government Area of Rivers state. Audi said the Minister of Interior, Dr. Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo, sympathised with the deceased families insisting that the blood of the officers would not be a waste. He said: “Let me first of all condole with you as a Command and the families of our gallant men who lost their lives some few days ago while on official duty. This is part of the hazards of the job and we pray that God would grant the families the fortitude to hear the loss. “I bring to you the message of the Minister of Interior, Dr Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo who has asked me to tell you that the blood of these gallant men will not be a waste. All hands are on deck as the Corps would contact their next of kin to process necessary benefits in order to serve as a succour to the families. “I will not reveal to the public our operational strategies in order to bring the perpetrators to book but definitely we are in collaboration with Sister Security Agencies and I assure you that Justice will be served “. Audi lauded the President Bola Ahmed Tinubu for his unflinching support in enhancing the capacity and operational efficiency of the NSCDC through the provision of gunboats and different welfare packages. He said that the appointment of the present Minister of Interior was a tremendous blessing to the corps describing the the minister as a man with great passion for the four agencies under his watch. He added that the Minister had come to deliver and impact positively in consonance with the Renewed Hope agenda of Mr. President. The CG further charged all Personnel to continue to put in their best in utmost loyalty, dedication and discipline. Speaking on the numerous challenges faced by the corps, Audi said he was committed to tackling them. He said the corps under his watch had made a headway by clearing all the backlogs of promotion and arrears inherited from the previous administration. He reeled out some of the achievements of the corps since assumed office especially the introduction of Career Progression Development Courses and the establishment of the NSCDC Command and Staff College in Jos. Audi said henceforth the promotion of officers to a new rank would be based on merit and performances noting that there would be no longer room for promotion stagnation. The NSCDC Commandant-General also charged the new recruits on training to remain focused, fit and agile adding that the success of an officer was based on diligent service, commitment and loyalty. He said the corps upscaled its disciplinary system by the introduction of Standard Operating Procedures and Code of conduct to check, correct and punish erring officers. He said persons found guilty had earlier been shown the way out of service through summary dismissal while others were either demoted or sanctioned. Speaking further on the reviewing of Salaries and allowances, the CG said efforts ongoing by the government through the Minister of Interior to make the welfare a priority. Audi spoke on the need for fairness, empathy and accountability in leadership and urged the young officers to remain unwavering in loyalty void of eye service.

[newslime]

Tragedy Strikes: Deadly Explosion Targets Police in Northwest Pakistan

In a tragic incident that shook the city of Dera Ismail Khan in northwest Pakistan, an explosion targeting police claimed the lives of five individuals and left 21 others injured on a fateful Friday. The blast occurred near a route frequently patrolled by the police, sending shockwaves through the community.

According to reports from news agency Reuters, the blast was a devastating blow to the city, as it occurred close to the path of a police patrol. Mohammad Adnan, a police official, revealed that the nature of the explosion was not immediately clear — it remained uncertain whether it was a result of a suicide attack or a bomb planted strategically nearby.

What makes this incident even more alarming is the lack of any immediate claim of responsibility. The authorities, along with the police and rescue teams, are tirelessly working to unravel the mystery behind this heinous act.

Dera Ismail Khan, situated on the border of Afghanistan, has long been a region marked by lawlessness. The city shares its borders with tribal districts, which have, over the years, become a dwelling place for both domestic and foreign Islamist militants. This grim reality has put the region on high alert, with security forces remaining vigilant in the face of potential threats.

As the investigation continues, the people of Dera Ismail Khan mourn the loss of lives and pray for the swift recovery of those injured. This incident serves as a stark reminder of the challenges faced by communities living in areas plagued by conflict and instability. Our thoughts are with the victims and their families during this difficult time, and we hope for justice to prevail as authorities work tirelessly to bring those responsible to account.

[reasoningdaily]

On August 18, 1889, a mob of white people in Chatham County, Georgia, lynched Walter Asbury after he was accused of assaulting a white girl in the community. In an effort to terrorize the Black community, the mob left his body hanging all day with a sign that read: “This is the way we protect our homes.” On August 17, a young girl reported that she had been assaulted in her home in Pooler, Georgia. When news spread that the alleged attacker was a Black man, white mobs in Pooler began searching the surrounding area for the alleged assailant. Mr. Asbury, who was attending a local dance about a mile from the scene, was located just after midnight and seized by the mob. The deep racial hostility that permeated Southern society during this time period often served to focus suspicion on Black communities after a crime was discovered or alleged, whether evidence supported that suspicion or not. Almost 25% of all lynchings involved allegations of inappropriate behavior between a Black man and a white woman that was characterized as "assault" or "sexual assault." The mere accusation of sexual impropriety regularly aroused violent mobs and ended in lynching. Allegations against Black people were rarely subject to scrutiny. Though no evidence linked Mr. Asbury to the crime, a mob of 300 white men from Pooler captured him and took him to an open field. Just after midnight, the mob hanged him next to a railroad track 10 miles west of Savannah and riddled his body with bullets. Newspapers reported that Mr. Asbury asked for time to pray in the moments leading up to his lynching and, right before he was killed, begged that word be sent to his wife. Mr. Asbury’s body was left hanging by the railroad tracks all day with a sign that read: “This is the way we protect our homes” in an effort to intimidate the entire Black community. The practice of terrorizing members of the Black community following racial violence was common during this period. Southern lynching was not only intended to impose “popular justice” or retaliation for a specific crime. Rather, these lynchings were meant to send a broader message of domination and to instill fear within the entire Black community. Mobs often forced a victim’s body to hang for hours and even prevented families from claiming their loved ones. In this case, more than 24 hours passed before the coroner was permitted to cut down Mr. Asbury’s body. No one was ever held accountable for the lynching of Walter Asbury. Mr. Asbury was one of at least two victims of racial terror lynchings in Chatham County and one of at least 593 victims in Georgia between 1877 and 1950. To learn more, read the Equal Justice Initiative’s report, Lynching in America.

[mystlnewsonline]

Alabama AG Statement Regarding James Barber

Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall's Statement on the Execution of Murderer James Barber Montgomery, AL (STL.News) Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall issued the following statement this morning after the execution of James Edward Barber at the William C. Holman Correctional Facility in Atmore, Alabama: "Justice has been served.  This morning, James Barber was put to death for the terrible crime he committed over two decades ago: the especially heinous, atrocious, and cruel murder of Dorothy Epps," said Attorney General Marshall. He continued, "I ask the people of Alabama to join me in praying for the victim's family and friends that they might now be able to find some sense of peace and closure." Attorney General Marshall cleared the execution to commence at 1:34 a.m. James Barber's time of death was 1:56 a.m. Summary of the Facts of the Case On Sunday, May 20, 2001, James Barber brutally murdered Dorothy Epps at her home in Harvest, Alabama, taking her life so that he could steal her purse. Dorothy Epps was home alone on the night of her murder.  Mrs. Epps knew and had a friendly relationship with James Barber, who in the past had dated her daughter and had been hired to do repair work on her house.  When Barber knocked on Mrs. Epps's door, she probably invited him inside, having no reason to suspect his malevolent intent. After entering her home, Barber viciously and mercilessly attacked Mrs. Epps, a 75-year-old woman who weighed 100 pounds, striking her in the face and then beating her to death with his fists and a claw hammer. Dorothy Epps suffered multiple skull fractures, head lacerations, fractured ribs, injuries to her neck, mouth, and eye, and bleeding over her brain.  She also suffered multiple defensive wounds, establishing that she was facing Barber at times, was conscious and aware of what was happening, and tried to fend off his blows with her bare hands. After murdering Mrs. Epps, Barber grabbed her purse and ran from the scene, leaving behind him a home now covered in blood, including on the floors, furniture, walls, and ceiling.  He also left bloody footprints on Mrs. Epps's body—and a bloody handprint on a counter. Days later, Barber was arrested and voluntarily confessed to the murder of Dorothy Epps, providing police with an elaborate account of his crimes.  He admitted that "the crime was senseless and stupid" and that he deserved "to be charged and put to death" for committing it. At trial, where overwhelming evidence of his guilt was presented—including his own video-recorded confession—Barber was convicted of capital murder by a jury of his peers and sentenced to death. SOURCE: Alabama Attorney General - July 21, 2023 Read the full article

[cosmicangel888]

Those that have been through trauma, through various spell work, stalking, damaging conjuring, and root, abuse of spiritual travelling and so on - can and does cause PTSD, for it attacks the empath, the spiritually gifted at a multi-dimensional level and of which few counsellors, or psychologists, psychiatrists are simply not trained nor even understand how to serve appropriately -

I understand that in the spiral of soul fragment healing, doing spell work while going through a dark night of the soul, trying to heal lineage trauma, childhood abuse, and the demons that can be conjured due to cult-like stalking and selfish scheming for power, control, and corruption; be it a gain in energy, resources, altering paths, portending to control peoples lives, destiny's, while sacrificing to deities of the dark, or cults, sects for even greater power; none have any idea the damage they truly cause until the energy and entities are returned - and even so, if the call of spirit is not heeded, they are then taken off of spiritual protection from their guides -

PTSD is an affect of the mutation in any way, from the separation of knowing of itself as sacred, true, honoured, valued, as spirit, a safe child being brought vibrationally into harm day after day, night after night, and being vibrationally raped for their light, their essence and then painfully shown, told, denied, truth, justice, and then even stolen from, blocked from family, loved ones, ruthless stories of mistruth and blaspheme and even far worse stories have been done to many others that include doctoring medical records, fraudulent signatures, all to play cate stories of corrupt non-sense to not bring truth to light - and how much time, resources, harm, damage to so many simply to continue to hide what is truth behind closed doors and what damage to communities has already been done?

Such spell work, those that know what they are doing; work with abuse mentally, spiritually, physically, and emotionally - it is a warped and sick tactics of enslavement to many deep wounding tactics for greed and self aggrandizing - many reason, many wounding and all need perspective shifts to truly understand and heal and tools to self care and re-writing such scripts of damage and so too the ones abused even more -

And for especially the gifted ones, the damage is like an autistic being screamed at abusively every day in ritualistic manner and pins, horror films, and draining deceitful games on every level - it is a story none would nor rarely get up from - I hope my story of truth will bring some promise to those that have been silent warriors fighting toxic deceitful family members living in shadow, self pain, abuse, and knowing to live compassionately and prayer, working intimately with your healing teams and setting out daily self design is a profound manner of healing stepping beyond abuse.

Such is the weighted pressure that is memories suppressed, the experiences that have to at some point be transmuted by all involved and the victims suffer the worse - and for that I hope that some of my tools and offerings will help.

Abuse energy work and know that it will equally bruise and harm your own soul - and so to that, I pray for all that have ever been through even a portion of what I have;

blessings and light

Joanna

#ascension

#healingPTSD

#healingmultidimensionaltrauma

#healinghumanity

#healingtimelines

#healingourakash

#healingtrauma

#healingabuse

#healingspellwork

#healing

#selflove