#unfortunately thr back shit runs in my family

[umemiyan]

ayo scoliosis gang RISE UP 💪😎

CROOKED SPINE SQUAD WE RIDE AT DAWN!!!!!!!

mine was apparently never bad enough where they wanted to do anything about it but sometimes i’m like. y’all i have pain LMAO are we sure this was the correct decision

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #27: The Pale Bro

Five friends drove up the mountain into the forest, where the vacation cabin waited for them. It was their senior year of college, so it wouldn’t be long before they’d be graduating and going their separate ways, and who knew when they’d all be able to hang out together again? So they’d decided that this year, instead of going on spring break someplace where there were a ton of other people, they’d spend break together in a cabin in the woods, because there was no possible way that that could go wrong.

They were just five totally ordinary college guys. Steve, a white dude with brown hair who loved video games and playing guitar; Trevor, a black dude with short hair who was on track to graduate magna cum laude and had already been accepted at a top medical school; Harrison, an outgoing, short, red-haired white dude who played soccer, but not, like, at career athlete level or anything; Evan, an Asian dude who kept his hair in a long ponytail, and whose family owned the cabin, who was planning on taking a year off after graduation to backpack around Asia and had sold it to his parents as an exploration of his heritage; and the Pale Bro, a twelve-foot tall dude with paper-white skin whose fingernails were like long razor blades and who was completely covered with eyes and mouths, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, cut-off shorts that would have been nearly pants on any other guy, and a pair of Vans on his feet. Just five ordinary young fellows, like anyone you might know.

Steve was driving the minivan, kinda wishing it was his dad’s SUV because of the effort of getting a minivan up the slope, but his dad’s SUV was in a different state and besides, it wouldn’t have had room for the Pale Bro. The minivan was the kind where you could put down the back row of seats to expand the cargo capacity, and the Pale Bro had laid out a thick sleeping-bag style blanket on top of their suitcases and was laying on them now, curled sideways because there was no dimension where he could stretch out in the van. Must be rough for him, Steve imagined, always having to bend down or curl up to fit into buildings and vehicles with his bros. He never complained about it, though. He was a great friend.

“How much farther is this place?” Harrison asked. “I gotta piss like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’ve been unfortunately next to you at the urinals,” Trevor said. “I’d believe it.”

Steve checked the GPS. “Shit. The GPS has just decided to get the vapors because it’s up too high. It’s telling me I’m literally in the middle of nowhere. Like, look at this.” He showed the screen to Evan. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. It isn’t even drawing the road.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can guide you in from here,” Evan said. “Just stay on the road another 20 minutes or so.”

With a voice that rumbled like the sound of tectonic plates grinding together and the hiss of static from the birth of the universe behind it, the Pale Bro conveyed that there had better be some fucking food at the cabin, because he was starving.

“You and me both, buddy,” Trevor said.

“We all just got Burger King like, two hours ago,” Steve complained.

“Yeah, well, me and Pale are tall dudes. We need more food than you.” Trevor smirked.

“There should be food, I had a grocery delivery scheduled for earlier today and one of my parents’ employees was supposed to swing by the place, pick it up and put it in the fridge.”

“There’s a fridge at this cabin?” Harrison asked.

Evan looked at him. “Yeah, dumbass, you think I’d have suggested coming here if there was no fridge? There’s running water, too. It even gets hot if you run it long enough.”

“Well, excuse me for not being so rich I can afford to go to a cabin in the woods, ever, before now.”

“What else has it got?” Trevor asked.

“Well, there’s three bedrooms, one of which has a king-sized bed and the other two have bunk beds. I figure, Pale Bro gets the big bed and we break up into two’s and do the roommate thing. There’s a sofa bed too, in case someone really can’t stand having a roommate. We don’t have a washer or dryer, but if you only brought one pair of underpants and it’s getting really rank, we’ve got detergent and a clothesline so you can wash them in the sink. There’s a dishwasher.”

“I would have put in a washer and dryer before I put in a dishwasher, personally,” Steve said.

“Yeah, well, my mom had a different opinion. Anyway, it’s camping in the woods. It’s not supposed to be just like if we were at home.”

“I call top bunk!” Harrison said.

“There’s two top bunks. Both rooms have bunk beds.”

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice like a Gregorian chant of nightmares that he wanted to know if there was a bathroom in the master bedroom, because that shit would be sweet.

“Naah, man, sorry,” Evan said. “But there is one of those really deep claw-foot bathtubs that you like.”

Like the rumbling of an oncoming avalanche, the Pale Bro opined that that was excellent.

***

“I don’t believe this shit.”

They had just disembarked, the Pale Bro in the rear bringing his own suitcase and the beer cooler, which was the size of a mini-fridge, and everyone else dragging their suitcases in… except for Evan, who had gone directly to the kitchen without bringing in his own stuff yet. He came stomping out. “Joe never showed up, the bastard! I’m totally having my dad fire his ass.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“I mean that food order never showed up. So we have canned food, and boxed food, but we don’t have anything perishable. No bread, no lunchmeat, no eggs, no bacon, no orange juice, none of that shit.” He sighed. “I’m gonna have to drive down into town myself to get food, and we just got here.”

“Hey, man, I can still drive the car,” Steve said. “You just need to tell me where to go.”

“Steve, you’ve been driving for 6 hours, you’re probably wiped. I can drive,” Trevor said. “It’s the least I could do with Evan buying our food.”

“Yeah, but you bought the beer, man,” Evan said. “So maybe Harrison needs to drive.”

“Uh, hey, before anyone drives anywhere, maybe you should call and find out if your parents even know where that Joe guy who never showed up is, and if he’s all right?” Harrison called from outside.

“Why?”

“Just… everyone come take a look at this!”

Everyone went outside and congregated around Harrison’s find, which was a roughly humanoid, but clawed, tread that was at least three times the size of a normal footprint. Experimentally the Pale Bro put his own massive foot into the tread. Harrison whistled. The footprint was about 25% bigger than the Pale Bro’s.

“Dude. What is that? Is that a bear?” Harrison asked.

Trevor shook his head. “Those are sneaker treads, Har. Bears don’t wear sneakers.”

In a voice that was the perfect auditory personification of the Zalgo font, the Pale Bro suggested that it looked like one of his cousins was back on its bullshit again.

“Goddamn,” Evan said. “That’s a big fellow.”

“I think maybe if we go into town we should all go,” Steve said.

“We’ve just been driving all this time, though,” Evan said. “I wanted to relax, crack a cold one, put on some MP3s. We don’t get Internet worth shit out here but I’ve got a huge music library on the stereo’s hard drive.”

The Pale Bro opined that before anyone drove anywhere, maybe he had better find his cousin and make it clear that if his cousin touched any of his friends he would shove its head so far up its ass it would be blinking shit out of its 27 eyes for a month.

“That… sounds reasonable,” Trevor said. “Since we don’t know what happened to Joe. We can hunker down here and wait for you to get back.”

“I’m pretty sure I got instant just add water pancake mix,” Evan said. “And my mom stocked this place with crappy dehydrated chicken pieces like the kind doomsday preppers buy. I could make a shitty chicken soup, we’ve got bouillon and noodles. Oh, and there’s a few cans of chili. Canned stuff is shit but I could maybe perk it up with some spices, some extra beans… put some rice in the cooker, I bet my mom left rice here, she buys like 100 pound bags of rice.”

Like the sound of Jupiter hovering in orbit above, rotating ponderously, the Pale Bro agreed that some canned chili with extra spices sounded pretty good considering how fucking hungry he was, and as soon as he found his asshole cousin he’d be back to eat with the rest of his bros. He also reminded them to save him some beer.

“Dude!” Steve laughed. “We’ve got three keggers’ worth in that cooler! There will be plenty of beer for you.”

Evan called his parents as the Pale Bro left the house, and reported back, somewhat gray-faced. “They said Joe never called in to say he got to the house. He reported picking up the groceries, he was headed up here, and then nada.”

“Oh, well, then, you work on the chili,” Trevor said, “and me and the rest of the guys are gonna lock up all the windows and doors and put someone on watch for when the Pale Bro gets back. You don’t have any guns up here, by any chance, do you?”

“Nope, my parents aren’t really hunters,” Evan said.

“Well, I’ve seen your kitchen at home, I know what kind of equipment your mom likes to stock. We’ll have plenty of sharp knives, I’m betting.”

“Yeah.”

And so as Evan attempted to turn six cans of canned chili into something his bros would find edible, and the Pale Bro stalked through the forest on the mountaintop looking for his asshole cousin, the other three made sure everything was locked up, that the car keys were secure, and that there were wicked cooking knives within easy reach, but not line of sight from the outside, of every door. Just like ordinary bros do, every day.

***

The Pale Bro stalked through the woods. Now, you’d think that being twelve feet tall and having a foot easily the size of a car tire’s diameter would make it hard to walk through a thickly wooded forest with plenty of underbrush, but the Bro’s long, skinny arms and legs could easily step over bushes and shrubs, and could pivot in directions that didn’t seem to quite exist within three-dimensional space. So he had very little difficulty making his way through the dense forest.

In the beginning, he was tracking the large treads that may or may not have been left by his asshole cousin, but the trail disappeared as it crossed a small creek. In a tone that sounded like the anthropomorphic personification of the trumpets of Jericho, the Pale Bro groaned, recognizing that he’d lost the trail and would have to search for it.

And so he went up the creek, and down the creek, and out from the creek, and up the trees around the creek, looking for any sign of his cousin… until he heard, in the distance, human voices.

Human female voices.

He stumbled through the woods, suddenly much clumsier than he’d been, following the sound of girls, until he half-fell out of the treeline and ended up in a clearing around another cabin, like Evan’s but bigger. The sounds were coming from around the corner of the cabin. The Pale Bro slid forward, long long legs making long long strides through the yard around the cabin, until a hot tub with a wooden deck came into view. The hot tub was on, and populated by five smokin’ hot girls.

There was a fair-skinned blonde girl, in a skimpy blue bikini that showed off all her curves, whose wavy hair floated angel-like around her head, improbably given that she was in a hot tub. There was a short, delicate black girl with hair in very wet braids and a soft, beautiful face, wearing a candy pink bikini. There was an Indian girl with long hair and an athletic build, with a red bindi mark on her forehead and a pale turquoise one-piece bathing suit with a little skirt, sitting on the deck and kicking her feet slowly in the water. A red-haired white girl with tan Mediterranean skin, tight curls, and a bright white bikini that stood out against her tan, had turned away from the tub and was looking directly at the Pale Bro, a slight smile on her face. The fifth girl was green and scaly, with webbed hands and golden eyes with nictating membranes; she didn’t have hair, but she had betta-like, beautifully colored fins on her head that looked hair-like.

All of them were absolutely gorgeous.

The blonde girl shrieked and ducked into the tub; the black girl bounced and climbed out of the tub, a big grin on her face. “Hi there, stranger!” she yelled from the rail around the deck. “Why don’t you come over and have a beer with us?”

The Pale Bro admitted in a tone like the creaking of an ancient rusted machine at the base of an abandoned windmill that that sounded awesome.

The green girl rolled her eyes. The Indian girl gave the black girl a questioning look. “Are you sure, Kayla?”

“Come on, Nandi,” the red-haired girl said. “I think he’s cute.”

The blonde girl came back up. “Are you inviting him over?” she asked, sounding horrified. “What if he’s a psycho killer?”

“Oh, right,” the green girl said. “He’s pale and tall and has eyes all over his body so he must be a psycho killer. Racist much?”

“No! He’s just a strange dude, that’s all! You have to watch out for strange dudes!”

The Pale Bro explained in the voice of a broken subwoofer booming at outdoor concert sound levels underwater that he didn’t really want to scare any of the girls and he’d go if they didn’t want him here.

The green girl leaned her elbows on the edge of the hot tub. “Forget Ashlee, she’s just paranoid.”

“You didn’t want him coming over either, Y’lehna,” Nandi said quietly.

“I just knew that if Kayla invited him over, we’re gonna lose Rhiannon for the rest of the night,” Y’lehna muttered.

The red-haired girl, presumably Rhiannon, was smiling broadly at the Pale Bro now. “Hey there,” she said. “We’ve got hard cider and hard lemonade, Bud, Corona and a couple of local microbrews. What’s your pleasure?”

In a voice that was actually surprisingly normal-sounding for once, the Pale Bro said he’d have whatever Rhiannon was having, which turned out to be hard cider.

He clambered up onto the hot tub deck, pulled off his sneakers, and soaked his feet in the hot tub, which barely came up to his knees.

“So what are you doing around here? You don’t live near here, do you?” Kayla asked.

And so the Pale Bro explained that he and his bros had decided to spend their last spring break of college together, in a cabin in the woods, because once graduation came they might never see each other again, and certainly even if they made excuses to get together on occasion, they’d see each other a lot less.

“That’s so sweet!” Kayla said.

“We’re juniors,” Rhiannon said. “Except Ashlee, she’s a sophomore, and Y’lehna’s technically a senior but she’s planning on doing a fifth year. But we decided to hang out here because Ashlee’s parents just put in a hot tub.”

“Hot tub!” Kayla sang out, and slid back into the tub. She was maybe just a little bit drunk.

As it turned out, they all went to the same university, and Y’lehna and the Pale Bro chatted for a bit about sports. “I tried out for the swim team,” Y’lehna said, “but when they found out I had gills, they disqualified me because apparently part of the point of the sport is that you are only allowed to breathe gaseous oxygen?”

The Pale Bro commiserated, as he hadn’t even tried trying out for the basketball team like he had once dreamed of, realizing that they would never allow someone who was taller than the hoop to play.

***

“I don’t know, though,” Ashlee, who had warmed up to the Pale Bro once another hard lemonade was in her hand, said. She was lying in a deck chair rather than in the tub. “Normally I love this place, and the tub’s great, but something just feels really creepy today.”

“You’ve been on edge since we got here,” Nandi – whose full name turned out to be Nandini, but she insisted that the Pale Bro should use her nickname – agreed.

The Pale Bro was thus reminded that his bros were expecting him to track down what might be a killer who may or may not have murdered Joe, the guy who was supposed to bring in the groceries, and also that he was very hungry and the hard cider wasn’t doing him any favors on an empty stomach. He pulled his feet out of the tub and confessed, in a voice like the grinding of the gears of the machinery that runs the universe, that his bros had sent him out to find a monster – he didn’t mention that the monster was probably his cousin – who might have killed someone, and also that dinner was waiting for him back at the cabin.

“Oh, you should bring them over!” Kayla said cheerfully.

“Are they all like you?” Rhiannon asked in a tone that might be considered “sultry” by anyone not as oblivious as the Pale Bro.

The Pale Bro shook his head and admitted that his bros were all much shorter than he was.

Rhiannon put a hand on his arm. “Well, that’s too bad, but I guess one handsome, tall fellow in a group is all I can expect, right?”

The Pale Bro looked at Rhiannon’s hand like it was an inexplicable glob that might be ice cream and possibly should be washed off, but equally possibly should be licked up.

Y’lehna said, “Why don’t you bring them over? They might be cute.”

“Yeah,” Nandi said, “we can’t all fit in the hot tub at once, but didn’t you say you had four friends back at your cabin?”

“That makes five,” Ashlee said, “and there’s five of us!”

“Also,” Nandi said, “we’ve still got, like, five pizzas in the house.”

This made the decision for the Pale Bro. He took the girls up on their offer of a couple of slices of pizza – they were cold, but he didn’t mind – and then headed back to the cabin to let his bros know about the girls’ offer.

***

The Pale Bro knocked on the window of the cabin, which apparently gave everyone inside heart attacks, even though he’d just meant to warn them to open the door for him. “Jesus, Pale,” Evan complained. “There’s a door.”

Within a few minutes – and after dropping his hard cider bottle in the recycling bin, because Evan’s family were big on recycling and the Pale Bro wanted to be polite – he had explained the situation to his bros.

“Let me get this straight,” Evan said. “You didn’t find any sign of Joe, you didn’t find your cousin or any other kind of monster or killer, and you want us to leave and go hiking through the woods to go hang out at a cabin full of strangers?”

When Evan phrased it that way, the Pale Bro admitted that it didn’t sound like a great idea, but on the other hand, there were five incredibly hot girls, plus a hot tub, plus pizza.

“Now let’s talk about this,” Trevor said. “Has anyone considered that if there’s really a psycho killer or a monster loose in the woods, those five girls might be in a lot more danger than we are? Maybe we should go over there to help protect them.”

“Yeah! And we could bring some of our beers, and Evan’s chili and rice—” Harrison suggested.

“Fuck no, I’m not making anybody else have to eat this chili,” Evan said. “It’s shit. It’s just the best I could do with the supplies I’ve got.” He sighed. “Too bad I can’t bring my tunes.”

“We need to be careful about locking everything up,” Steve said. “We really don’t want to come home tomorrow morning and find the psycho killer waiting for us here.”

“Or a gaggle of rabid raccoons,” Evan said. “That’s a thing around here.”

“Did any of you guys bring condoms?” Harrison asked. “Because I didn’t think we’d be seeing any action this weekend, so I didn’t bring any…”

Trevor chuckled. “We haven’t even met these girls, Har. Aren’t you jumping the gun a little?”

“Hey, I like to be prepared.”

“I’ve got a handful in my wallet, but I don’t think I’ve got five of them,” Steve said.

The Pale Bro pointed out with laughter like the rolling of thunder in a distant cavern that probably none of Steve’s condoms would fit him anyhow, so it would be fine.

“You don’t have to eat that chili, man,” Evan said, observing that the Pale Bro had dumped half a rice cooker’s worth of rice onto a plate and then all the rest of the chili that the other bros hadn’t eaten on top of that, and was currently chowing down. “It’s shit. I admit it. And you said you had some pizza.”

The Pale Bro declared that he was too hungry to care what it tasted like, that two slices of pizza weren’t nearly enough, and besides, it tasted fine to him.

So the five bros armed themselves with the sharp knives from Evan’s mom’s kitchen just in case they ran into a psycho killer along the way, locked all the doors and windows to the cabin and the doors to the car, and the Pale Bro carried the beer cooler as he led the way back to the house with the five hot girls.

***

It wasn’t particularly easy for the Pale Bro to retrace his steps through the woods; it’d been just short of sunset when he’d found the girls, and now it was full dark. His myriad eyes could see well in the dark, of course, but his bros couldn’t, so he had to watch out for them, and they were also a lot less flexible, and tall, than he was. Also, he hadn’t been toting a beer cooler the last time he came through here.

It didn’t help that his bros were very jumpy, freaking every time a night bird called or a twig broke loudly. The Pale Bro got it, he did – there might be a psycho killer in the woods, or a monster, or his cousin who was also a monster, and they couldn’t see as well as he could, or defend themselves. But this was just ridiculous. In a voice that was an auditory personification of the concept of dread, he suggested that they stop being such big pussies and concentrate on not tripping before they accidentally stabbed each other trying to brandish knives at random bushes.

“Yo, man, we can’t all be twelve feet tall,” Harrison said, sounding pissed but also still really anxious.

In a voice that was best described by some kind of metaphor implying a deep and scary sound that hopefully hasn’t been used already in this story, the Pale Bro offered to give Harrison a piggyback ride.

Trevor said, “Not in the middle of trees, man, you’d brain him. Walk right into a tree branch and knock him off.”

“Yeah, I gotta turn that down,” Harrison said.

“You smell that?” Steve said. “Smells like someone’s firing up a grill somewhere. I can smell the charcoal.”

“Did the girls have a grill?” Trevor asked.

The Pale Bro admitted that to the best of his knowledge, they did not, but on the other hand they had Hawaiian pizza. This, of course, triggered the old argument, where Steve and Harrison insisted that pineapple did not belong on pizza, and Evan and the Pale Bro insisted that pineapple on pizza was quite valid. The argument continued, with Trevor’s exhortations to show some common sense and save the argument until they were not walking through a dark forest that might contain a psycho killer going unheeded, until Steve accidentally fell in the creek because he couldn’t see it, and in the process lost one of Evan’s mom’s good cooking knives.

However, the Pale Bro mused, this was a potentially good sign because he’d found the girls while walking alongside the creek. So the bros walked alongside the creek, Steve muttering that these girls had better be hot after all this, until they heard the sound of female human voices, exactly like the Pale Bro had had before.

They entered the clearing, observed the very large cabin, Evan making comments like “I bet it’s a bitch to keep clean, ten to one that thing’s not sanitary” because he was jealous that the cabin was bigger than his family’s, and then around the corner to observe the very hot girls, who were all still very hot even though some of them had pizza sauce smeared around their lips.

“Well, hell-o, ladies!” Harrison said, trying to be suave and cool, and failing miserably.

The Pale Bro wondered, in the voice like the echoes of a rockslide in a canyon, if there was any of the pineapple pizza left, because unfortunately he was still hungry. He gestured at his very large body somewhat self-deprecatingly.

“Hi, guys!” Kayla, who was obviously the group’s ambassador to guests, said, with possibly more bubbliness in her voice than was currently in the hot tub. “I’m Kayla, and this is Nandini, and over there in the blue bikini is Ashlee, whose cabin this is – I mean, really it’s her family’s cabin—”

“I get it,” Evan said. “My family’s got a cabin too, that’s where we’ve been hanging. We just got in today. My name’s Evan.”

“Cool!” Kayla said. “That’s Y’lehna in the lawn chair with the wine cooler, and Rhiannon went to the bathroom but I’m sure—”

“I’m back!” Rhiannon announced. Trevor’s eyes widened and then turned heart-shaped. Metaphorically.

“And I’m Trevor. Hello, ladies,” he said, sounding much cooler when he said it than Harrison had.

“I’m Harrison, and this is Steve, and he’s kinda shy!” Harrison punctuated this by shoving his kinda shy friend forward.

“Uh, hi,” Steve said. “I kind of fell in the creek on my way here?”

Kayla’s eyes went wide. “Oh, wow! Hey, Ashlee, do you mind if I bring him inside and show him the shower?”

“Long as he takes his shoes off,” Ashlee said, coming to the deck railing. Steve saw her angelic hair, beautiful skin, and ample charms shown off by the rather small bikini, and fell in love.

“Oh, definitely. I’ll definitely do that. I – yeah. Thanks a lot for letting me use the shower, I’m all covered in mud. Which you can see. Because you’re standing there, looking at me covered in mud.”

Kayla laughed. “Oh, yeah, let’s get you cleaned up!” She took Steve’s hand with surprising alacrity and lack of reluctance, given that he was covered in mud.

Evan said, “The guy who was supposed to bring over the groceries never showed, and I made some chili and rice out of canned stuff for my friends, but it was kinda shitty. Pale asked if there was any more of the pineapple pizza? I could definitely go for a slice if you’re offering.”

Ashlee lit up. “Oh! Sure! I can take you in to get some pizza!”

Rhiannon had by then walked over to the Pale Bro, and put her hand on his arm again. “You know, I could definitely go for some more pizza myself,” she purred.

Meanwhile, Harrison was trying to chat up Y’lehna, and also strip to his boxers so he could get in the hot tub, without looking like he was doing it in a creepy way. “So, where’re you from?”

“Massachusetts,” Y’lehna said, lying back in the lawn chair and wistfully gazing at Trevor, who had followed Rhiannon, the Pale Bro, and Ashlee in for pizza. “A little town called Innsmouth, on the coast. Little more than half an hour north of Boston.” Y’lehna had legs, but they were covered with scales and her feet were large and webbed.

“Cool. I’m from New Jersey, but, you know, like the south end. Not the part that’s all gritty like Newark and Jersey City.” Harrison slid into the hot tub. “Oh, man, this is nice. You wanna get back in?”

“After I finish my wine cooler, maybe. Ashlee doesn’t like it when we eat or drink in the tub.”

Evan was the first to come back from the pizza hunt, carrying a beer and two slices and had actually had swimming trunks at the cabin – they hadn’t planned on going swimming on this trip, but Evan kept some clothes here all the time, and he’d already changed into them and then put his clothes on over. He stripped to his bathing suit and then went and got into the hot tub near Nandini. “Hey.”

Nandini barely noticed; she was too busy looking at Harrison. Evan had to say it again to get her attention. She turned and looked at him. “Oh, you can’t eat those in the tub. Or drink the beer.”

“What if I sit back from the tub and just soak my feet, until I’m done with the food?”

Nandini shrugged. “I guess that’d be okay, but you’d have to ask Ashlee. Can I ask you something?”

Evan beamed. “Sure! Whatever you want!”

She nodded her head toward Harrison. “Does your friend have a girlfriend?”

Evan’s first reaction was dismay – Nandini seemed to not even notice him as a man, and was just making eyes at Harrison, who was obviously captivated by Y’lehna. Then he narrowed his eyes and decided to make problems on purpose. “Oh, sorry, Harrison is gay.” Actually, Steve was bi and the rest of them were straight – Evan thought, anyway, unsure about the Pale Bro and if he even had a sexuality, but he did seem to like to look at girls.

Nandini sighed. “Aren’t they always.”

Ashlee was the next to come back. She sat next to Evan. “You know, if you want to get into the hot tub and still eat your food, I normally have a rule about that but I could let it go this time. Just as long as you keep the actual food and drink out of the hot tub so it doesn’t make everything gross.” She smiled at Evan.

Evan smiled at her, because it was always good to smile at your host, and it was also always good to smile at a pretty girl, and Ashlee was both. “Thanks,” he said, not planning to take her up on it because what if he dropped the pizza?, and then turned back to Nandini. “What’re you majoring in?”

“Ugh, I hate having to explain it to people,” Nandini said. “It’s… complicated. It’s a discipline that’s part economic theory, part psychology, part sociology and part anthropology. Basically, I’m majoring in the question of why do people do dumb things when they’d be better off doing smart ones, and how that impacts our understanding of economics.”

“That sounds really interesting,” said Evan, who had quit his business major because he was bored out of his mind by economics. “I’m doing Asia studies. Yeah, it’s a cliché.” He’d gone into Asia studies after he quit his business major because it was the only thing he thought his parents would let him get by with if he refused to study business. Some kind of “Mom, Dad, I really want to get in touch with our heritage and understand the culture of my grandparents” bullshit. Also, statistically you were more likely to find a girl who considers Asian guys hot in Asia studies than any other major, he suspected.

“That’s pretty cool!” Ashlee said. “Which part of Asia is your family from? China, Korea…?”

“China, originally,” Evan, whose real name was Haoran, but who’d been going by Evan since second grade, said. His pizza finished, he slid down into the tub and turned back to Nandini.  “So, we came over here to warn you – and maybe help you fight if it comes to it – but we’re worried there might be a killer or something in the woods?”

“Omigod, really?” Ashlee asked, eyes wide with terror.

“Why do you think that?” Nandini asked, seeming completely calm.

“Well, my parents had an employee, Joe, buy food for my cabin. He was supposed to drop it off… but he never showed up, and he never called my parents, and he’s not answering his cell. Meanwhile, we saw this absolutely huge tread in the dirt, and the Pale Bro thinks it might be his cousin.”

“Yeah, he told us all that,” Nandini said. “Except for the part about it maybe being his cousin.”

“So, a monster?” Y’lehna asks. “Because there’s a difference between a psycho killer, who’s human, and a monster, who isn’t. You don’t know what the monster’s capable of, but when you see them, you know they’re a monster.”

“Yeah, but just because they look like a monster doesn’t mean anything about what they’re like!” Harrison said. “The Pale Bro looks like a monster, but he’s a really great guy!”

“I’m guessing his cousin sucks, though,” Y’lehna said.

“Well, we don’t know his cousin,” Harrison said, somewhat diplomatically.

“Do you really think there’s a killer?” Ashlee asked, getting into the hot tub right next to Evan – and inconveniently, between him and Nandini. “But you’ll protect us, right?”

“Uh, some of us can protect ourselves…” Nandini said.

Evan got back out of the tub so he could see Nandini more clearly without Ashlee in the way. “Absolutely. I’m not trying to say that we’re offering our protection because, you know, we’re guys and you’re girls and we think we’re tougher than you. That’s not it at all; I bet most of you could kick my ass.” He did not actually think this; Evan was in pretty good shape, since he was preparing to backpack all over Asia next year if he got the chance, and also, he bicycled a lot. It was pretty clear to him, though, that Nandini was invested in thinking of herself as someone who could protect herself, and who knew? Maybe she was a martial arts master or a crack shot. “But we figure, there’s safety in numbers. Plus, if it is the Pale Bro’s cousin, he can get it to back the hell off.”

“Good point,” Nandini said.

At this point there was a glass-shattering, horrible screech, and then something, some unknown creature moving so fast it was a blur, leapt out of the hot tub and charged directly at Evan, Nandini and Ashlee. All three of them screamed, as it slashed bright pain across Evan’s legs, right above his knees.

And then Ashlee started cracking up, as the horrible assailant stopped at the edge of the deck and began washing itself vigorously. “Phenyl, you dumbass. I know you like to sleep on the tub when we have it covered, but couldn’t you see we have it open and it’s full of water?”

Evan’s heart was still pounding, but now that he could see the creature that had slashed gashes into his thighs, he took deep breaths to calm himself down. “That’s your cat?”

“Yeah, her name is Phenylephrine and she’s a dumbass. She catches rats, though. One time she chased off a raccoon who’d gotten into the trash.” Ashlee attempted to pick her cat up, but the almost-entirely-black-except-for-white-bib cat jumped down off the deck, apparently not sufficiently recovered from her ordeal to tolerate interacting with humans. Evan decided not to ask why the cat was named after a decongestant.

“So what are you majoring in?” Harrison asked Y’lehna, trying to come across as casual. “I’m doing liberal arts, you know? Just a little of everything.”

“Shakespearean literature,” Y’lehna said.

“Oh, wow! You know about the theory that he didn’t write his own plays, right?”

Y’lehna rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. It’s bullshit.”

And as she explained all the reasons why she thought the theory was bullshit, Harrison listened to her raptly with imaginary hearts in his eyes.

***

Steve was deeply grateful to Kayla for taking him in to find Ashlee’s shower. The cabin had wooden floors, thankfully, so the gunk still dripping off his body could be easily cleaned. It made sense – it was a cabin in the woods, after all – but Steve had some vague idea of what rich people houses were like from visiting Evan, and carpet played a big role in his mental image of a rich person abode.

He was less impressed with the towel Kayla found him, after he came out of the shower. It was very… brief. Bigger than a hand towel, but not by much, it covered the territory it was required to cover and not very much else.

“I hate to ask, but does Ashlee have any brothers or other family members who might be around my size? This towel is kinda…”

Kayla laughed. “I think you look cute in it, but yeah, I can see why you’d want something bigger!” She stuck her head in the kitchen, where Ashlee was serving pizza to Evan, Rhiannon, Trevor, and the Pale Bro. “Hey, Ashlee! Does Hunter have any swimming trunks or t-shirts here?”

“You can check. He usually uses the middle bedroom.”

Steve called out, “I can have them cleaned and returned tomorrow, I just… my clothes are all muddy… I don’t want to impose, but this towel’s kind of tiny…”

“No problem, I don’t even care if you keep Hunter’s stuff. It would serve him right for being a douche,” Ashlee said.

Kayla checked, and came back with a NASCAR t-shirt and a pair of swimming trunks with grotesquely grinning emojis all over it. “Sorry, I hope it fits! It’s all he had!”

“No problem, NASCAR’s cool,” Steve said. The sum total of his knowledge about NASCAR was that it had something to do with cars, probably, and that guys who drank warm crappy beer and drove pickup trucks liked it, and that was all. But if Ashlee’s family was into it, maybe it was worth checking out.

He and Kayla walked into the kitchen, now that he was vaguely decent. “OMG I am so sorry,” Ashlee said. “That shirt is awful. Is that really the only one Hunter had?”

Steve shrugged, understanding more about Ashlee’s relationship to her brother’s interests. “It’s not like I’m into NASCAR or anything, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

The Pale Bro chose this moment to inform everyone in a voice that echoed like a portent of doom that there was no more beer in Ashlee’s fridge, and this was a problem, because he and his bros had brought beer for 5 people for three days, but now they had ten people, so what if they ran out?

Steve privately thought it was good that the Pale Bro wasn’t majoring in anything that needed math. Ten people would burn through the beer for five people at twice the rate, but twice the rate of three days would be a day and a half, more than enough time to go get more beer, unless the psycho killer or monster slashed their tires or something.

Kayla spoke up. “I’ve got more in the trunk of my car, but I parked kind of crappy.”

“Well, no matter how crappy the parking job was, more beer’s always a good thing,” Trevor said.

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice that was like the crackling of atoms fusing together in the unfathomable heat of the sun that he’d be happy to go get them out of Kayla’s car.

“Uh… no, I think Steve should do it,” Kayla said. “Because he’s shorter, and it’s a really crappy parking job. Trust me, you will bonk your head on trees about six times just trying to reach my car.”

“Did you park it in the woods?” Trevor asked.

“Um, sorta… I was kinda excited about getting here and waving to my friends and I accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake and I ended up in the woods… yeah.” She looked up at Steve forlornly. “I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Steve said, because it was always a good idea to tell a pretty girl who said she was an idiot that in fact she was not.

In a voice like the echoes of a NASCAR race going on over one’s head because one was in a sewer system under the track, the Pale Bro offered to help Kayla get her car out of the woods, if it was stuck there.

“That’s really sweet of you,” Rhiannon purred. “Probably better to do it in daylight, though. There’s a cliff drop near there, and you don’t want to accidentally slip over the edge.”

“Or worse, drop the car,” Steve said, and laughed. Kayla laughed with him.

The Pale Bro expressed to Kayla that if there was a cliff face near there, then he was very glad that she hadn’t accidentally driven off the edge, because that would have been bad.

“Yeah,” Kayla said, “but it all worked out so no harm done, right? Unless, like, I punctured the gas tank with a tree branch or something. That would definitely be bad.”

Steve, Trevor, Rhiannon and the Pale Bro all agreed that that would definitely be the case.

***

After Steve and Kayla had left to go to Kayla’s car to get more beer, Rhiannon asked the Pale Bro what his major was.

“I’m pre-med,” Trevor inserted, not actually having been asked.

“Mm, nice. I’m trying to become a physicist, myself. What about you?” She repeated the question in the Pale Bro’s direction.

In a voice that was muffled and full of pizza, the Pale Bro conveyed that he hadn’t heard the question, sorry.

“I just wanted to know what your major was,” she said.

The Pale Bro confessed that he was majoring in gender studies, having decided that hotel management was not really a good career path for him.

“Oh, really!” Rhiannon brightened. “You don’t see a lot of guys majoring in gender studies! You must be very secure in your masculinity.” She said this as someone who seemed very secure in the Pale Bro’s masculinity, herself, as she pressed against him.

The Pale Bro mumbled in a voice that really didn’t sound all that different from anyone else’s mumbling that he just didn’t like how society treated women, and added that his mother raised him to respect and look up to women. He confided that she had torn apart giant megafauna with her bare claws and fed them to her brood of spawn while insisting on table manners, and that he couldn’t imagine any job more difficult than being the primary caretaker of children. Children, he admitted, scared him.

“Oh, yes, the little rugrats can totally bring the chaos,” Rhiannon laughed.

The Pale Bro clarified that actually chaos was perfectly fine by him and the natural state of all things that the universe must someday return to; it was their high-pitched screechy voices that really bothered him.

“I never knew that,” Trevor said. “Weird, what you learn about people. Rhiannon,which kind of physics are you concentrating on? Like, space, or quantum, or what?”

“Haven’t really narrowed it down like that, it’s going to depend on what grad school accepts me and which programs I can get into,” Rhiannon said. To the Pale Bro she said, “Hey, do you want to go for a walk? It’s really nice out.”

“It is, but there might be some kind of killer or monster in the woods,” Trevor reminded her. “Do you really think it’s a good idea to go wandering off by yourself?”

She rolled her eyes and gestured at the Pale Bro. “I’m pretty sure that Pale here would be able to protect me if anything came up,” she said.

The Pale Bro confessed in a voice that echoed like the infrasound rumble of the collapse of a concrete building, but an embarrassed and regretful tone, that actually he wanted to wait right here, because he wanted more beer and also his feet hurt.

“Well, why don’t we go back to the hot tub and let you soak your feet for a bit?” Rhiannon asked.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Trevor said. “We’ve got our own beer cooler out there, remember? You brought it over.”

This was true, the Pale Bro admitted, but he couldn’t eat or drink in the hot tub, and he wanted another slice of Hawaiian pizza if there was any.

“Oh, but you’re a big fellow,” Rhiannon said. “You could totally sit back from the hot tub and dangle your feet in it while you’re eating, and you wouldn’t be close enough to the tub to bother Ashlee.”

In that case, the Pale Bro conveyed in a voice like the rumbling of a train full of dead bodies, he was all for the hot tub, because that shit sounded great.

***

The group joined back up around the hot tub, all except for Kayla and Steve, who were still in the woods, ostensibly getting beer out of Kayla’s car. Ashlee had brought out chips and pretzels, which, she said, were not to be eaten within five feet of the hot tub. This meant that the Pale Bro could soak his feet while he snacked, as promised, but no one else could actually eat near the tub.

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Y’lehna, who was considerably more drunk than she had been earlier in the evening and probably really needed to fill her stomach with chips and pretzels, complained. “I’ve been good all night but now I’m starving, and you know my skin needs to be moisturized.”

“I keep offering to let you try some of my Oil of Olay,” Ashlee mumbled.

“If I wanted to cover myself in something oily, I’d use fish oil, it’s traditional around my hometown,” Y’lehna said sharply. “I wanna be in water. Like, H20.” She looked up at Trevor, pleadingly. “Do you think I’m asking too much? I don’t think I’m asking too much.”

“I think you should definitely eat something,” Trevor said.

“I don’t think it’s too much to ask,” offered Harrison eagerly.

“But I don’t want to get any food in the hot tub,” Ashlee whined. “It’d be gross, and we’d have to drain it and clean it…”

“Well, I want to be in the water and I want goddamn pretzels, is that too much? Is that really too much?” Y’lehna yelled, making Ashlee quail.

At that point they all heard the sound of clanging and shattering, and Kayla and Steve screaming like they were being murdered.

Ashlee shrieked in terrified response. The Pale Bro, Trevor and Nandini were all off the deck and running toward the sound in a second, followed by Rhiannon, Evan and Harrison. Y’lehna took the opportunity to grab an entire dish of pretzels, drop herself into the tub, and stand at the edge of the tub, facing the concrete around the tub and stuffing her face. “I can be responsible,” she muttered. “I can not get pretzels in the tub. I don’t have to eat underwater. I don’t even want to. Pretzels aren’t like fish. They get soggy.”

No one was there to hear her, though, because they had all gone into the woods.

The Pale Bro had only gotten in a few feet when Steve yelled, “Don’t come any closer, guys!”

“Are you being murdered?” Trevor asked, loudly.

“We will totally fuck them up if someone is trying to kill you!” Harrison said, clenching his fists.

“No, guys, it’s good… it’s all good.”

“It’s not good at all!” Kayla wailed. “I spent so much money on that beer!”

The Pale Bro heard the word ‘beer’ and conveyed that if something was going on with the beer he absolutely needed to know, right now.

“We dropped it!”

“We dropped it off a goddamn cliff,” Steve moaned. “Kayla had this whole big cooler—”

“It was so expensive! So much beer!”

“And we were carrying it together, and then I tripped on a tree root, and slipped, and Kayla tried to grab me… and we dropped the beer.”

“Off the cliff!” Kayla couldn’t have sounded more heartbroken if she were a young lady during the Vietnam War being told that her betrothed, who had been her childhood sweetheart since she was three years old, had had a completely sober four-way with two Vietnamese twins and their pet goat, and then had been killed by the Viet Cong while he was still cavorting with the goat.

In a voice that sounded like the auditory representation of hair raising combined with the scream of nails on a chalkboard, the Pale Bro expressed that he couldn’t believe this and Steve had been such a fuckup.

Steve, actually kind of intimidated, raised his hands. “I know, man, I’m sorry! We didn’t mean to!”

The Pale Bro then lectured the two of them about how if he’d been allowed to help in the first place, he wouldn’t have accidentally dropped the beer off the cliff and right now they would all be knocking back some sweet brews, but instead they insisted they could handle it and now all that beer had been tragically lost, cut down in the prime of its life, its yeasty lifeblood spilling out across the rocks and stones below where none could drink it except maybe some squirrels who would get themselves totally fucked up.

“Come on, man, it’s just beer,” Evan said. “We can get more.”

“Not if there’s a killer out there!” Kayla wailed. “We won’t be able to leave to go get beer until morning! What if the killer slashes our tires?”

The Pale Bro conveyed that if that happened, it was fucking on because no psycho killer, monster, or cousin was going to get between him and more beer.

Trevor, trying to be the voice of reason, said, “Folks, we’ve got a lot of beer in our cooler and we’ve barely touched it. There’s no use crying over spilled… beer.”

“Yes, there is! It’s very cryable!” Kayla declared, starting to cry.

“God, you’re drunk,” Nandini muttered. “Maybe you shouldn’t be hitting any more of the beer anyway.”

“Come on,” Steve said, putting his arm around Kayla. “It’s gonna be all right. Don’t cry. Trevor’s right, we’ve got a lot in our cooler.”

Kayla turned toward him and cried against his chest, as he hugged her with one arm and awkwardly patted her head with the other.

“Wow,” Nandini said. “You’re really into this guy, aren’t you?”

Steve turned red, which they could all see by now because they’d made their way out of the woods and back into the outside lights of the cabin. “Uh, I don’t think so, I’m just trying to comfort her…”

“You’re a white guy touching her hair and she’s putting up with it,” Nandini said. “Kayla’s been known to punch white people who touch her hair.”

“That was that bitch Madison and it was one time!” Kayla cried.

Steve removed his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I just…”

“No! I like it when you touch my hair! I don’t like it when bitches like Madison touch my hair after they’ve just said some racist bullshit, but you’re being so sweet! You can officially touch my hair,” Kayla said, and then started sobbing again, hugging Steve tightly.

The Pale Bro audibly sighed, in a voice like a dude who’s just seen one of his best friends score a date with a chick he was really into and he can’t even be mad because it wasn’t like he got anywhere with her himself or even admitted to anyone how cute he thought she was.

***

The group returned to find that Harrison had wandered back to the hot tub as soon as it was clear that no one was being killed except maybe a large number of innocent bottles of beer, and was sitting outside the hot tub but right by Y’lehna, who was in the hot tub eating chips.

Nandini said, severely, “Y’lehna! Ashlee told you not to do that!”

“Ashlee can tell me herself,” Y’lehna said with chips in her mouth.

“I’ve been watching,” Harrison said brightly. “None of the crumbs have fallen in the water! It’s all good!”

Trevor snorted. “Well, of course you think so, Har,” he said. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

Nandini frowned, and then scowled, and glared at Evan. “Wait, you told me he was gay!”

“You said what?” Harrison was shocked.

Evan held up his hands. “Sorry, Har. But…” He looked over at Nandini. “I thought that if I told you that he only likes really unusual girls, you’d feel hurt because it would sound like I was telling you you were basic or something, and that’s totally wrong. You’re gorgeous and you could probably get any guy you wanted, except Harrison, because you don’t have scales or feathers or six eyes or something.”

“Well, you could have said that,” Nandini said.

Kayla said, “I get it. Rhiannon’s like that, too.”

“To be fair,” Harrison said, “I am bi.” This was information Evan had not known. “I just haven’t yet met any weird dudes who aren’t related to Pale here, and it’s just way too weird to date one of your bro’s actual brothers or something.”

“Does anyone know where Ashlee went?” Steve asked.

Everyone looked around. There was no Ashlee.

“Could she be in the bathroom, maybe?” Nandini asked.

“Don’t think so,” Y’lehna said. “She ran off while you guys were running to the woods. I wasn’t gonna get in the hot tub and eat pretzels if she was still here!”

“Uh, yeah,” Rhiannon said. “That’s a little long to be in the bathroom.”

The Pale Bro expressed in a voice that was exhaustedly done with this bullshit that he could look for her.

“Nah, man, I’ll do it,” Trevor said. “I know your feet are hurting, and I’m the next biggest guy after you.”

“I could go with you,” Steve said.

Trevor shook his head. “Steve… that is a cute girl who is very, very drunk,” he said, pointing at Kayla. “I don’t know her tolerance, but I’m pretty sure that if she isn’t at puke bucket level now, she will be soon. You need to stay with her and make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah, good point,” Steve said.

Nandini turned back to Evan as Trevor walked away. “I can’t believe you lied to me, though. I mean, I know Rhiannon. I could have accepted ‘he’s only into weird-looking chicks’—”

“Thanks, Nandi, that’s sweet,” Y’lehna said.

“You know what I mean,” Nandini said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Look, I’m gonna come clean with you,” Evan said. “I really thought you were great. You’re hot, you’re smart – I’m not dumb, but when you talked about your major, I realized you could run rings around me – and you stay calm in a crisis, and I really respect that. But you asked me if Har had a girlfriend, and I just – I’m sorry. It was like you didn’t even notice I’m a dude, and that made me feel bad. So I did something shitty, and I gotta apologize to both you and Harrison.”

“I mean, no problem on my end,” Harrison said. “It’s all good, bro.”

“Damn,” Nandini said, running her hand through her hair. “I didn’t even think about what that sounded like when I asked you. I’m sorry, Evan, what I said to you was a shitty thing too. I mean, I still think what you did was worse because you were lying, but I understand why you did it.”

“Hey, I know you didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.”

“Evan’s right, though,” Harrison said. “I mean, not about me being gay, I like girls just fine, but…” He shrugged. “Girls that look like normal human beings, even beautiful human beings, it just doesn’t click. Y’lehna here’s really different-looking, and that is so hot.” He turned to Y’lehna. “You know you’re super-hot, right?”

“Yes,” Y’lehna said, “but boys like you don’t usually agree. So that’s nice.”

“I guess I can forgive you,” Nandi said to Evan. “But you’d better not lie to me again.”

“I am pretty sure you could kick my ass if I did, so I won’t. I like my ass un-kicked.”

“Your ass is okay,” Nandini said. “I’ve seen better asses, but yours is all right.”

Rhiannon had offered to give the Pale Bro a foot rub, since his feet hurt. A guy as big as he was suffered from foot pain frequently, so he’d agreed, while apologizing in a voice like a church organ in a cave for his toenails. Some might say his toenails were worth apologizing for, as they were about four inches long and razor sharp.

But Rhiannon disagreed. “Your toenails are great. Look how white they are! I never see guys without all kinds of grody fungus turning their toenails yellow. And I bet you’re amazing at climbing trees with them.”

The Pale Bro allowed that this was true, and that climbing in general was one of his talents.

Steve, meanwhile, wasn’t exactly sure what he ought to be doing with Kayla, who was now lying on her back, her head in his lap, rambling about stars and how far away they were. When she’d asked for another beer, he’d gotten her cold water instead and reminded her that water was important to avoid hangovers. She’d finished most of the water – the rest had spilled – and now she seemed to be close to falling asleep in his lap.

“You’re really into stars, huh?” he asked. “You an astronomy major?”

“Oh no!” Kayla laughed. “Math! I’d tell you all about it but I’m waaaaaay too drunk. I just reeeeally like stars!”

“That’s cool,” Steve said. “I’m a comp sci major myself.”

“Are you gonna build an AI that wants to take over the world and enslave humanity?” Kayla asked.

“Hey, I’d be happy if I could build an AI that can identify rocks as not sheep,” Steve laughed.

***

Trevor had very quickly guessed where Ashlee might be.

Ashlee was nervous and reacted badly to things that startled or scared her. Ashlee was also at her own house – well, cabin. So odds were, Ashlee had gone into the cabin to calm down.

The cabin wasn’t very big, and Ashlee wasn’t in any of the rooms in an obvious place. So Trevor started checking the not-obvious places, like a closet in a room that looked girly enough that it might be her room. He knocked on the door.

She shrieked, inside the closet, but he said, “Ashlee, calm down! It’s me, Trevor. Can I check on you to make sure you’re okay?”

“Uh… okay,” she said, and Trevor opened the door. Ashlee was sitting in a lighted closet, on the floor, completely covered to her shoulders with stuffed animals.

“Wow. Are you okay?” He squatted down. Being a big black man, Trevor had learned many strategies for making himself look less threatening. Not towering over somebody was one of them.

“Not… really?” Ashlee said.

“I know you were scared with all that noise. Hell, I was too. But it turned out to be nothing. Steve and Kayla accidentally dropped some beer over the cliff.”

“It’s not that,” she whispered. “It’s just… it’s too much. Too many people.”

“Yeah?” He sat on the floor crisscross applesauce, making himself even lower and more relaxed-looking. “You want us to go?”

“No! I mean, this was supposed to be a weekend with just my friends, and then you guys show up, but you’re nice guys! I like you guys! But it’s just so many people, I started to wig out.” She lifts an arm out of the sea of stuffed animals. “So I do this thing when there’s too many people and I start to freak… I find a tiny place and I fill it with soft things and I lay in them until my tachycardia goes away.”

“Tachycardia?”

“Oh, um, that means fast heart beat. Sorry. I just always call it that because it sounds scarier than fast heartbeat and it really is scarier so I want people to know it’s a problem.”

“I know what it means, I’m a pre-med. I just wondered—”

“Oh wow! I’m in pre-med, too!” Ashlee sat up , some of the stuffed animals falling off her. “I guess we’re not in any classes together because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore, but did you have Lessing for Organic Chemistry?”

“You’re doing orgo in sophomore year?” Trevor whistled. “That’s fast.”

“Yeah, I, um, my high school had like this program where good students could do science classes at a nearby college, for college credit, in senior year, so I took chemistry then, and bio last year and also the math I needed, so I get to do orgo this year.”

“I hated orgo. It’s just memorize a bunch of prefixes and suffixes and string them together. Couldn’t we find a better way to describe methylethylpropylene than that?”

She laughed. “Is that even a real thing?”

“I don’t know, but it’s pretty ridiculous that I can put together a string of prefixes and make something that sounds like a chemical even if it doesn’t exist.” He shook his head sadly. “And yeah, I had Lessing. She’s tough. She giving your brain a real workout?”

“Yeah. It’s a challenge. Everyone always told me, ‘Ashlee, you can’t just coast along getting straight As without ever studying. Ashlee, when you go to college it’ll be a lot harder. Ashlee, you need to learn how to study or you’ll fail in college.’ Well… I haven’t failed yet, but… it might be close.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I must sound so stuck up with my humblebrag. ‘Oh, it’s so hard to be a gifted student who gets straight As!’ But it really is hard. Because if it was too easy for you in school you don’t learn how to handle it when it gets too hard, and I’m just, like, totally stressed.”

“I feel you. My mom made me study, and I was like, ‘momma, I do not need to read the book and highlight all the important parts and then write them in an outline and then read over the outline! I got it the first time I read the book!’ And that was what she said. ‘You take shortcuts now because everything’s easy, you’ll be in a world of hurt when things get hard.’ And hell, I ended up in a world of hurt in orgo anyway.” They both laughed.

“Anyway, your friends are worried about you and I don’t want people to think we both got bumped off by a psycho killer, so I figure, there’s three options here. I leave and tell everyone you’re okay, and I leave you the hell alone; I leave and tell everyone you’re okay, and then I come back and we keep talking; or you and I both leave together and we both tell everyone you’re okay, and then we get to eat some chips, if Y’lehna and Harrison didn’t get them all already.”

“She’s in the hot tub eating chips, isn’t she.” It was not a question.

“Yeah, sad but true. At least she’s leaning over the side so the crumbs get on the concrete and they don’t fall in the tub.”

Ashlee sighed. “I guess I better get back out there. But I do still want to talk and stuff. And I wanna check up on Phenylephrine so maybe you can help me find her.”

“Phenylephrine?”

“My cat. The cat before her was Sudafed so when she died and I got a new kitten I named her Phenylephrine.”

“I get the joke there, but why was the first cat named Sudafed?”

“My mom was allergic to cats and she said if we get a cat we might as well name it Sudafed because she’d be taking so much of it, and then we did get a cat, so she did name her Sudafed.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten a cat if she was that allergic?”

“Oh, no, my mom loves cats. She just says wiseass things sometimes. Anyway, Phenyl lives here at the cabin and the cleaning service makes sure she gets fed. They call her the head of Mousekeeping Services.”

Trevor laughed.

***

Outside, it turned out there was no need to turn out a search party for Phenylephrine, as for some entirely inexplicable reason it turned out she liked chips, and also Harrison’s lap, where he was feeding her chips. She didn’t actually eat the chips, she just licked them.

The party was starting to flag just a bit; Evan suggested putting on some music, but the internet wasn’t good enough here for Ashlee’s Spotify playlist and she didn’t have MP3s on a hard drive like Evan did. Evan was regretting not putting a bunch of MP3s on a flash drive and bringing them with him. Nandini had a CD in her car – the girls had all come up here in their own cars, except for Y’lehna who couldn’t drive – but it was hit songs from Bollywood musicals and no one here knew any of them, and she was self-conscious about whether anyone would even like them.

And then, as they discussed what to do about tunes, a shadow fell across them, blocking the moon for a moment.

They all looked up, even the Pale Bro. A shambling monstrosity, 20 feet tall and brick red, with sprouting tentacles where its face should be and eyes on the tentacles, and Edward-Scissorhands-length blades for fingernails, loomed over them.

Several of the group screamed. The Pale Bro got to his feet.

“D̶̫̊̚Ũ̸̟̝͍̘̮͒Ḍ̸͋̽̀E̷̛̝̹̗͈̊͌̍,̷̨̖̲̺̤̝͂̈́̎͘ ̴̛̱͚͗Y̶̧͔͉̙͋͊̊͋͘Ô̸̢̥̙͙U̴͖͍̳̭͗̊̌͘͘͜R̷̫̜̘̀ ̶̼̘̠̾̐̈́̒̚Ṃ̴̡̡̦̮̖̿͗̊͋͝Ȯ̴͛ͅM̴̺̱͕̳̀ ̷̱͔̄̃̎́I̸̙͐̍͑͐S̶͉͉̲͋̊͒̽̄͜ ̵̤̙̬̫̒͋́͛P̷̧̧̧̰͔̦͠Î̴̢̜͒̅͘S̷̛̝̤͂́̍̐S̴̭͉͆̋̿É̴̢̺̲̫̝͋́̋̚̚D̴̥͈̠̋̅̅̀͝͝ ̴̡̡̖̬̓A̵͈͚̣͂̆̔̍̂̕T̷̡͙̠̙̫̎̈̄͝ͅ ̴͔͗̀̋͗̏Y̴̤͇̪͕͇͎͆̌̀̊̈́Ơ̸̡̢̙̭͇͕̒̐̕̕U̸̡̩̠̚.̸̣̖̼̫́͛̄,” the entity boomed.

In a sound like the rushing of lava through underground caverns just before a volcano was about to blow, the Pale Bro demanded to know if the entity had eaten any people lately.

“S̴̙̱͕̀H̴̭͐̈́͠I̷̘̟͉̝͊͐̄̋̀̑Ṱ̷̢̫̮͓̲̐̑͗̈́̀,̵͓̥͖͈̾́̏̇͘ ̵̣̳͍̿Ń̵̟̦̰͖̺͜O̸͉̓̈̊͛̔̕.̷̣̜̗̩̈́ ̸͖̋̓̀̀͝͝Í̶̘̗͓̱̗̬̀̈́'̴̗̯͈͈̥͎̎̇M̷̹̻͉̼͑̎̓̐̏̀ ̴͚̻͚̱̇̿͛̏͒͠O̴̩̪̣̯̤͙̐̐̚̚Ņ̶͇̘̤̗͗͗̑͛̏̇͜ ̸̡͎̔̽͛A̷̢̘̪͎̗͊͐̌͝͠ ̸̤̺͉̫̖̫̀̓̑̕̕D̴̡̜̤̻̉Ĩ̸̡̯͉͔́̓̂͘͝Ę̶̨̫͇̬̳̉̽͑̈̊͐T̸̥̝̹̑̾.̷̢̟̻̭̲̿ ̴̧̣͌̆̃̕ͅÏ̷̟̰̫̰̹̽̐̐F̶͖̂̉̌ ̵͔͚̊̐Y̸͔̆Ö̴̞̦͕̘̀̒̀͘Ṳ̶̪̝͙̎̿͘ ̵̥̀̏͗E̵̦̣̲͍͉̥̊V̶̑͒��ͅȨ̷͚̪̲̎͜ͅR̵͎͖̀̓̈́͑͠ ̷̣̀̀̓͋C̸̲̗͎̞͔̭͌̈́̕͘Ã̶̝͉̮͉͉̓̄͒̈́͜͝M̵̙̮͎̹̌E̷̥̪̎̓͗́͝ ̷͎͓̙̺͔̗͂̑̕H̶̢̍͗́͋͊O̴̗̎̽̆M̴̮̭̮͐̑́̚Ë̶̩̦̹̞́͂̈́̆ ̴̩̻̈́͘Y̴̨͍̣̩͈̎̅͘͘O̵̠͉͒̐̈̕͝U̶̪̝̳̺͑͆̇'̸̖̋D̶̗̉̓̿͐̓ ̸͉̍̀͠K̷̥̞̼̍͛́̇͗͝N̵̡̹̠͚̥̰̋̈́̌̈́͘O̸̻̠͍̲͋̉Ẁ̸̞͎̺̀͆̌̀ ̴̛͔̙͗͗̉͠T̸̨̓̀̎H̶̡̱̘͈̹͐̔͗͂͘A̷̠̠͉͎̫̰̿̄T̴̡̰͍̦͕̉̌,” it said, rolling tentacles clockwise around its face in an approximation of an eye roll.

If that was the case, the Pale Bro shot back, explain why this entity’s footprint was found right outside his bro’s cabin, and a man was missing.

“Į̴̙͈̻̓͗͜ͅ ̷̙̑̔͛͝W̷̺̯̲͗͝Ã̸̹͕̊S̷̹̲͆̏ͅ ̵̝̈́̒͗̓̍L̸͖̺̊͛Ǫ̶̗̥̼͍̥̒̒̌̊O̸͙̊̎̋̏̕Ķ̴͚̫̤̈̔́̅͑͝Į̵͑̍Ṉ̸̨͌͂́Ǵ̵̭̥̹̮̞̏͂ͅ ̷͚͙̹̋F̸̧͕͉͓̊̾͊O̵̲̙͓͛̌̄̏̕̚R̴̬͚̠͉̬̘̽̀̌́͊ ̴͎̀̏̐͋Y̴͈̘̮͌͋̍̃̍̈́Ơ̷̞͉̝͙̻̒U̵̦̭͈̻̪̽͂͗̚,̴̳̐ ̸̢̠̙͕̰̐̅D̸̟̫̋͑̅̈́̄͜͝ͅŰ̵̡̜̤̺̿̍̃̈́M̵̼̜̳̊͊̋̈ͅB̷̧͖̲̮̤̜͋̐͑̔Ȁ̶̼̪̟̼̱̐̔̋̀͘S̷̨̳͂S̶̨̡͈̈́̐͂̿͜͠,” the entity said. “A̷͕̎͆Ṷ̴̢̣͙͐Ņ̷͓͔͕̙̟͛̿́̐͝T̶̠̹̜͇͐̾̊̂̚  ̸͔̐͋̓̓͐͝€̶͉̦̍̊̅₯̷̟̙̗̱̤̈́̋̌͂͌̚ῥ̷̠̩̇ῗ̶̦͎͚̃͊̾ᾗ̴̤̞̰͕͓̈́͜Ỷ̸͔̫͙̦͐ẞ̶̦͕̱́͂͑́͊̈́ ̵͉͍͉̼̐͑̈́͋͝S̷̢͇̽͗͛͊̏E̸͉̲̓̉̎̈N̸̤̾Ț̷̻̍́̍ ̴͓̱͉͍̝̄̐̀͜ M̷̹͖͝E̸̘̖͓̍͋͜ ̶̢̲̘͋ T̴̠̘̲̼̍̈́̄̏̃͝ͅǪ̷̨̡̤͕͎͠ ̴̬͑͊ T̵͚̫̆̏͘E̴͚̗̯̠̊͗͌̕̚ͅL̴̫̺̫̀̄̽̃̕L̶̡͚̫̬̈́͑̇ ̴̲͙̼̖̘̺̈͊̓̂͠ Y̸̰̳̰̑Ơ̵̢̼̯͕̌Ų̶̜̜͚͇̕ͅ ̶̟͎̫͌ Y̴͔̱̼̅̋̄̀͜O̴͕̰̰̎̄U̶͓̜̼̝͑̃͂͘͝ ̸̨͎̀͊Ṅ̵̢͙̙̹̀Ë̸̖E̵̢̪̪͛̒̈D̷͍͖̀̈̏͊͋̚ ̶̦̙̫̺͓̉͂͠T̸̙̮̬͚̚Ó̷̖̘̩̘̝̌̄ ̸͇͍͋͒̃̑Ṽ̸͉̞͔̘̱̃͑̌I̷͙͛͑͝S̸̢̗̬̞͂̽I̵̺̿̾͗̀̓̅T̷̢͈̺̹̀̇͊͐̊̍ͅ,̵̭̔ ̷̹̥̺̟̣͋̄͜Ş̵̺̱̃Ḩ̴̙͙̼͙͉̔̎̍̐́̃I̷͔͚͂̇̑͂͜T̷̲̱͔̬̓͠H̶̝̝͌̏͐Ę̴̨̰̙̤͖̎A̸͔͠ͅḐ̴̻͚͔̯̏́͐͘.̵͚͎̪͖̼̻̇̉.”

The Pale Bro replied, in a voice like the whining of an engine underneath the whapping sound of helicopter rotors, that he was on vacation with his bros and he was not here to visit his mom and she could just deal.

“A̶̱̘̬̪̝̓͌͊͐̚R̸͙͌̉̆̆̇̔ͅE̵̡̱̙̯̮̅͗ ̴͈͒̐Y̶̮̤̽̄O̴̢͓̙̝̮͉̾̆̈́̔̚͝Ų̸͚̗͓̞͎̀͝ ̶̡̬͚̄̆͌͋̉̆F̷̙͊͋U̷̿͊̊̽͌̚ͅC̴͙̦̼͕̈́̊̒K̴̬̘͆̀̑͒̐I̸̅́̈͒̅͠ͅŅ̴̪͍̭͂̈G̴̗̥͎͌̔̽̑̈́ ̸̻̰͆̈̕Ȟ̶̱̜̎̕Ī̴͎̝̖̼̤̱̏̐G̵͚͙̊͆̃̍̅ͅͅḦ̸̡̾̄̕?̵͉̫̠̉̈́̓ ̸̡͕̔͐Y̵̨͒͊̈̕O̴̮͓̼̽̓͝Ú̶̝̺͜ ̴̛̪̚ͅͅC̸̣̆͛̿̓̂Á̸͇͈̦͐͗̇͝N̸̞̭̲̻͖̦̽̈́̈'̶̪̪̐͐̈́T̸͔̘͌̄ ̴̨̪͙̫̩̐́S̶̩̋̃A̷̡̨͙͉͕͑́̔̓̌͜͠Y̸̯̝͕̋͗̄̾ ̵̲̜̥̥͆͊̾̑̊͜͝ͅT̴̟̭̼̲̐̄H̶͚̦̯̱̐̔͝Ą̴̥̤̅̃̄̂̾T̵̞̜̱̍̈́̔̕͜ͅ ̶̤͇͐Ṱ̷̃̾̚Ȏ̷͇͈͓̰͇͓ ̶͓̘̟̉̄̀͌̽ͅẎ̸̢̠̿Ỏ̸̧̢̹̹̀̓U̶̢̬͚̞̘͂́̃̆̽̔Ṛ̵̬̱̯̟̀͐̓̎̃͠ ̵̨̮̏̑̐̐M̷̽͜͝O̴̪̙͙͕̥̕͘M̵̨͉̫̭̩̔͑̈́̈̈͝!” the entity exclaimed.

“This is your cousin, bro?” Evan asked diplomatically.

In a voice like the moaning of the wind through a forest of dead things and disappointments, the Pale Bro admitted that this asshole was indeed his cousin, and was carrying a message from the Bro’s mom that he needed to come visit her, because somehow she’d found out that he was vacationing in the area.

“Well, why don’t you just tell him that you will go to visit your mom, in a few days, right before we head out? It is rude to be right near her house and not go visit her, but on the other hand you’re on vacation to spend time with us, so just do it at the end,” Evan suggested.

The Pale Bro expressed that if he absolutely had to visit his mom, that was probably the best way to handle it, and could his cousin kindly fuck off now.

“Ö̵̡̩͙̠̮͌̓̍K̶͈̬̳̰̺͂̋̂́̕Ạ̸̢̬̪̠̠̽͝Ÿ̴͓̰̰̻͔́̏͒̌͆,̶̮̉͒͒̿̏ ̵̦̺̠͓̩̲̍͆̉B̸͕̽͆Ư̵̟̔̈́̌̏͒Ţ̵̳̞̙̣̪̏̂ ̶͈̲̃͐̈́͋͛Y̴̝͍͌̈̍Ơ̶̙̝̱̘̈́̉́̊͒Ū̷͎̦ ̸͚̓B̷͕̥͊͗̿̒͝Ë̴͕͖̪͇̃́T̶͉̓̾̌̃̀͘T̵̨̟̠̩͚̜͂̎̚̕͝Ḙ̴͈̳̮͗̆͋̐́̈́R̶̡̛̪̮͖͓͙̍̈́͌́ ̸̧̘̻̞̣̈́͆͑̄͜N̷͎̦̬͊͌̆̌̕O̵̧̫̾́̾͜T̵͔̉́ ̸͔̒̀̐͆̌F̵̣͉̖̺̱̚ͅÒ̸̯̜̼̖̋̑͘͜R̶̲̦̱̭̱̙̆̈G̵͓̘̞͎̑̅E̴̲̓̿T��̝̝̑͌̏̊̄̕ ̴̧̡̮̮͓͓̐͒T̸̡̛̖͒̕��Ḥ̸̬̭͙̪̲̈́͌̈́̚͠͝Ì̸̡͎̝̎̈́̾͂̕S̷̠̻̣̈́̓͘̚ ̶̧̤̀̈́Ţ̴̧̛̫̫̑͗̓͌̉ͅI̵��̧̘̰̆ͅM̶̮̤̎̉͜E̶̘̬̟͓̜͔̓̕̕̕,̶̗̈ ̶̖͇̞̀̾͑̓͜͠D̷̡̢̧̹̖͙͛̂̒̏̏I̵̛͍̘̜̲̥̓̏̅͐͂̋͝P̴̧̢̡̱͖̣͔̰̦̊̀Ṡ̸̳̺̓̓̕H̷̰̭̣͂͗Ị̶̢̧̜͇̅̎̓̈̉̂̃̐̕͜͜ͅT̶̰̰̋͐.̵͍̜̠̰͊͝ ̷̝͔̼̞͘ͅI̶̩͍̘͎̺̓'̷͕̟̗̣̳̻̀͂͠L̵̹̣̃͗̇͆L̴̢̛̩̤͖̬̆̚ ̸̲̬̲̈́͛͑̌B̴̘̹́́̈͝E̵͓͐̋͒͐̏̎ ̵͇̹̂͒Ẇ̵̨͎̣̝͔͘ͅA̷̻̗̫̍͑̈́̇̐T̸̥̱̘̲̳̋C̶̪̀H̵̢̏͜Ì̸̡̨͙̜̠̲͘N̸͖̹̦̿͊́͛̈́͝G̵̡̨̘̼̀̑̅̎.̷̍̑̆.” The giant creature lumbered off, back into the woods.

“Your family sounds like mine,” Evan said, commiserating.

“Mine, too,” Nandini said. “If I was within 50 miles of my mom while I was on vacation and I didn’t stop by to see her, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met your mom,” Steve said.

The Pale Bro suggested that that was just as well.

***

Kayla was napping on Steve, whose legs were starting to go numb but he didn’t want to risk waking her up. Trevor and Ashlee were talking animatedly about terrible professors and classes that were absolute bullshit but required for the pre-med track. Nandini, having forgiven Evan for lying to her about Harrison, had agreed to go on a date or two with him once they all got back to school, and see where things went. Also, she’d helped him recover his mom’s good knives, which they’d all dropped in the dirt when they got here so the girls wouldn’t be scared of them. Rhiannon continued to hit on the Pale Bro, who either didn’t notice, or was so flustered by a girl paying attention to him that he pretended not to notice. Y’lehna, somewhat overheated by spending too long in the tub and not drinking enough water, had a headache, and Harrison was tending her by getting her glasses of water with ice from Ashlee’s freezer.

Everything was going pretty well, and a lot of fun, except for Steve and his numb legs, when a man wearing a ski mask and carrying a bloody knife came out of the woods.

Everyone except Trevor and the Pale Bro screamed. The Pale Bro growled, less like a dog and more like the sound of the devil’s car engine, down in Hell, when the devil is revving it because he’s just challenged the Archangel Michael to a race in a demonic replica of NASCAR. Trevor took note of where Evan and Nandini had put all of Evan’s mom’s kitchen knives, and yelled, “Can we help you?”, preparing to grab a knife from the pile and go knife-fight the dude, just in case the Pale Bro was too drunk to simply lift the fellow up and toss him off the cliff that had already claimed Kayla’s case of beer.

“I hope so!” the man yelled back. “I’m in the middle of cutting up steaks for the grill, and I realize, I don’t have any potatoes! I was gonna do the potatoes on low and slow so they’d be nice and soft inside, but turns out, all my potatoes rotted and I haven’t got any, and it’d take like forty-five minutes to drive into town. And now it’s too late for baked potatoes, but I haven’t got any kind of starch, so I was wondering if you guys have any French fries?”

Trevor blinked.

“Uh, why are you wearing a ski mask?” Nandini asked.

“Oh, this!” The man pulled off the mask. “Haha, almost forgot I had this on! I’m anemic, so my face gets cold. I wear ski masks around to keep warm, but I forgot how that would look to somebody else. Wow, that was dumb of me.”

The man was a good bit older than any of them, maybe late 20’s or early 30’s. He was a white dude with a tan complexion, like Rhiannon’s, but it was a little grayish and unhealthy looking in the bright lights around the hot tub, which could be due to the anemia. His black hair was wavy and longish, parted on the side and going down to his shoulders, framing his face, and he had a mustache and beard. “My name’s Jason,” he said. “My girlfriend and I just moved back in to the cabin – we live here in the spring and summer months because my girl can’t handle the summer sun, she needs some shade – and I brought the steaks with me to celebrate, but I thought I had potatoes. I forgot, potatoes don’t survive being stored for four months.”

“Whew.” Evan shook his head. “That’s nasty, man. I hope you were able to get the smell out of wherever you were storing them.”

“It might take a few more good scrubs,” Jason acknowledged, grinning. “Hey, do you guys mind if I put the ski mask back on? I know what it looks like, but my face is really cold.”

“Go ahead,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, we don’t mind,” Nandini said. “If you turn out to be a serial killer, it’s not like you’re not a serial killer when the mask is off.”

Jason laughed again. “Well, I can eat a whole box of cereal in one sitting, so I guess you could call me a cereal killer.” Many of the college students groaned at the pun.

“You and your girlfriend, do you have kids?” Harrison asked. “Because that was dad-joke worthy.”

“Haha! Nah, no kids yet, dunno if that’s in the cards ever to be frank. Angella’s not much of a kid person.” He pronounced the name On-zhellah rather than An-jellah, like it was French or something.

“I don’t think I have any fries,” Ashlee said. “Or anything, really. When I’m here at the cabin I mostly drive down into town and get takeout. I mean, I’ve got bacon and eggs and bread for toast, and I could make you a PB&J or a lunch meat sandwich, but no real food.”

“That’s better than what I’ve got,” Evan muttered, and then, more loudly, “You got any tomatoes or peppers? I could chop them up and fry you some Spanish rice; I’d just have to go back to my cabin to get rice and spices.”

“Hey, man, that’d be awesome,” Jason said. “Yeah, I’ve got tomatoes and peppers. We’ve got a lot of steak and I don’t think even Angella’s appetite for bloody meat will put a dent in it, so if you guys wanted to come over and get some steak…”

The Pale Bro said in a voice like the moon had crashed but was still orbiting, scraping itself along the Earth’s crust as it went, that steak sounded sweet and he wouldn’t mind having some steak.

“Bro, you are just, like, an eating machine,” Harrison said. “But yeah, wouldn’t mind a steak.”

“I prefer seafood,” Y’lehna said, “but I don’t dislike steak.”

“Guys, Kayla’s asleep and I can’t leave her alone here,” Steve pointed out.

“I’ll stay here with Kayla,” Ashlee suggested. “You can go get steak.”

“I don’t feel great leaving you guys by yourselves, though, you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

At this point, Kayla lifted her head and asked blearily, “What’s happening?”, which solved the issue of who would stay with her; when steak was explained to her she cheerfully agreed that steak would be nice, and everyone else agreed that Kayla had had enough to drink that, assuming she didn’t puke it up, putting more food in her stomach might be a good idea.

Trevor and a couple of knives went with Evan back to Evan’s cabin to get the rice; the Pale Bro went with the rest of them to Jason’s cabin, both to make sure nothing happened to any of his friends, and because steak sounded awesome. Since Evan’s family had been coming here for vacations since he was a kid, he knew the area well enough to know how to get to Jason’s house once Jason gave him the address.

***

Jason’s cabin was about the same size as Evan’s, and it did not have a hot tub, but it did have a barbeque grill. Not one of those tiny little portable things that run on charcoal, either. This was a large fancy propane-powered grill of the kind that could practically be used in an industrial kitchen.

“Honey! I brought guests! And they brought beer! And their friend is gonna make us some Spanish rice!” he called.

A woman came out of the cabin, looking so goth she might as well have invented it. She had incredibly pale white skin, without even the undertone of red most healthy human beings have; she wasn’t quite as pale as the Pale Bro, but it was close. Long black hair slunk down her back like she was cosplaying Morticia Adams. She was wearing hip-hugging black jeans and a long-sleeved black blouse, and a chain around her neck with an Egyptian ankh on it, and her lips were blood-red.

Then she opened her mouth, and it became immediately apparent that she had fangs.

“How do you do,” she said in a vaguely quasi-European accent. “I’m called Angella Darque, with a q. And you are?”

The college students introduced themselves, Nandini wearing a very skeptical pair of eyebrows the entire time. After introductions were done, she asked, “Is your last name really Darque?”

Angella looked taken aback. Jason said, “It’s really Duncan, actually, but she’s getting together the legal paperwork to get it changed because she hates her dad. Deadbeat, never paid child support, you know the type.”

“Oh, Jason, I had no idea today was ‘let’s tell total strangers all about my girlfriend’s private history’ day. Is that what we’re celebrating?”

“Sorry.”

“His lips are so loose,” she confessed to the students. “Sometimes I just want to… sew them shut.”

“Isn’t she hilarious?” Jason laughed. “We met at a support group for people with anemia, five years ago, and we’ve been together since.”

“Um,” Ashlee, obviously very nervous, said. “Uh, we brought some beer if you want. And also wine coolers. Would you like a wine cooler?”

“No, I never drink… wine,” Angella said. And then, “Do you have anything like a Jaeger?”

“Evan’s got vodka back at the cabin,” Steve volunteered.

“Does your cell phone work up here? Maybe you could call him,” Jason said. “Or I could, if he’s got a landline.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to put anyone out,” Angella said. “I have 151 here, and that’s quite fine. Would any of you like some?”

“Yeah, slip it on me!” Kayla cheered, somewhat mangling her idiom.

Nandini and Y’lehna said at the same time, “No.” And then Y’lehna clarified. “I’m a little drunk, but she’s, like, totally plastered. We can’t even let her have a beer at this point. Soda’s cool, though.”

The Pale Bro conveyed in a voice like a million marbles suddenly gaining sentience and stampeding for a cliff to fling themselves over like lemmings, except that lemmings don’t really do that, that he would appreciate a rum and Coke.

Angella went back in the house to make the Pale Bro a rum and Coke with dangerously-high-proof rum. Harrison, Steve, and the girls looked at each other. Finally Rhiannon said, “I thought maybe I saw… your girlfriend has fangs? What’s up with that?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jason said cheerfully. “Now you guys need to let me know, should I use the rosemary garlic marinade, the pineapple ginger, or the Brazilian steakhouse?”

“Why not mix it up?” Harrison asked. “You got a lot of steak there, you could do ‘em all!”

“I don’t think pineapple ginger would go well with steak,” Ashlee said uncertainly. “Doesn’t that sound like more of a pork thing?”

“Or fish,” Y’lehna said. “Oh, but wait! Nandini, can you even eat pork?”

“I can eat anything,” Nandini said irritably, “but my family’s Hindi, not Muslim. I’m supposed to stay away from beef, not pork. But some traditions I don’t even believe in is not going to stop me from eating a nice steak.”

“I could add pork medallions, if you thought it was a good idea,” Jason said.

“Nah, man, you’ve got a lot of meat here,” Harrison said. “It looks great! Maybe if you had like a swordfish or tuna steak for Y’lehna, but if you don’t, no worries.”

“I got a salmon.”

“Pineapple ginger might go really well with salmon,” Y’lehna suggested.

Meanwhile Angella had brought the Pale Bro his rum and Coke, and they were currently discussing literary trends in fiction aimed at college-educated women.

***

Evan and Trevor returned with rice, spices, dried vegetables, and coincidentally, a can of pineapple chunks. Jason ended up preparing the salmon with the pineapple chunks after defrosting it in his microwave, and Evan made the Spanish rice he’d promised, and no one actually questioned why someone had started grilling steaks at midnight.

The salmon was done first, and Y’lehna and Nandini, who was feeling just a little bit guilty over her earlier decision to eat beef, got most of it. Angella got the first steak that came up, when it was barely warmed, still dripping blood. Then the rest of them, as the rest of the steaks were all done around the same time, along with the rice.

At some point, Evan suggested that everyone return to his cabin, because he had video games and music and nice speakers; Jason and Angella turned the offer down, Angella saying, “The night is young, and has yet to yield all its delights”, which was really corny and pretentious, but given the look she gave Jason when she said it, none of the guys questioned why he was staying at his own cabin tonight instead of going with them. Ashlee also insisted on staying at her own cabin; after a whole night of having ten people at her house, she was kind of burned out on people, and needed to get some sleep. And everyone agreed that Kayla should stay at Ashlee’s cabin; she was still cheerful and fun, but she was still pretty plastered. Because of the potential threat of a killer, Steve volunteered to stay with the girls; he knew Evan’s landline number, so he could call in reinforcements if necessary. Everyone else trooped back along the road, many carrying tinfoil-covered plates of steak and spicy rice, back to Evan’s cabin.

There was blood dripped onto the driveway.

The Pale Bro noticed it before anyone else, with his multiple sensitive eyes. His arm went out to block Evan from going any further, and in a voice like the rumble of an entire river’s worth of water pouring from a broken dam, he warned everyone of the blood and suggested he should go first.

Evan put up his hands. “No problem, man,” he said. “You take point.”

“I’m right behind you,” Trevor, holding one of the knives in front of him, said.

“Okay, I’ll bring up the rear,” Nandini said. “Harrison, Y’Lehna, Rhiannon, Evan, you go between us.”

Harrison looked at Nandini, who was taller than him, and then at the others. Evan was maybe the same height as Nandini, maybe very slightly taller… or very slightly shorter. It was too dark for Harrison to accurately judge.

He, too, put up his hands. “Works for me,” he said.

Evan looked back at Nandini. “I feel like I should be back with you,” he said. “If Pale’s got Trevor as backup…”

The Pale Bro pointed out, in a tone that conveyed deep irritation, that he didn’t need backup because if it was a human killer he’d make short work of them and if it was a monster, only he had a chance, and anyway it was probably not a monster because his cousin had claimed to be on a diet and the only reason they’d thought it was a monster in the first place was his cousin’s footprint. He then walked forward resolutely.

The door to the cabin was hanging open. The Pale Bro ducked his head way down, which he was pretty much used to doing any time he was going through a door, and pushed through, followed by Trevor. They’d left all the lights on, with the shutters closed, so that the light leaking around the edges of the shutters would make someone think they were home, and also because the lights were LED bulbs so seriously, that was probably like only thirty cents worth of electricity wasted. In that light, they saw blood all over the floor.

All of the group looked at each other uneasily. Ever since the Pale Bro had found the girls and the hot tub, no one had really been acting as if there genuinely was a potential killer out there; they’d given lip service to the idea, they’d certainly gotten scared enough every time something bizarre happened – and a lot of bizarre things had happened – but they hadn’t really treated it as a serious risk. Now it seemed possible that someone had been murdered in Evan’s cabin, or had been stabbed somewhere else and staggered into Evan’s cabin, despite the fact that all the locks had been locked.

The Pale Bro went forward into the kitchen, following the blood trail – and stopped in confusion. This caused everyone else to stop short, without being able to see into the kitchen because the Bro was blocking the doorway.

“Come on, bro, what’s going on?” Evan asked.

The Pale Bro slid sideways out of the way in a fashion that didn’t quite look like a real way anything could possibly move, and Evan pushed forward to be right behind Trevor, both of them crammed into the doorway.

A middle-aged white dude wearing a baseball cap advertising Evan’s parents’ company was at the sink, his front covered in blood. He had turned to face all of them, his hands clean but his sleeves completely saturated with something’s death juices.

“Joe?” Evan said disbelievingly.

“Evan!” Joe said. “I’m so sorry about the mess, man, and the hour, I know you’re pissed and I don’t blame you, I’d be pissed too, I know I’m really late—”

“Joe. Why are you covered in blood? What happened?”

“The meat defrosted,” Joe said. “I was driving around this mountain trying to find the cabin for so long, the meat defrosted, and when I pulled it out of my trunk, the bag caught on something and ripped and all the blood from the meat defrosting was all over me. I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you—” Evan glanced at a fancy cuckoo clock on the wall that actually ran on batteries, not solely on clockwork. “—getting in at two fucking am when you were supposed to be here before six?”

“I have been driving around this mountain since four in the afternoon,” Joe said. “My GPS stopped working halfway up the mountain, and I swear I tried to follow your mom’s directions, I swear, but I couldn’t find Long Leaf Lane no matter how hard I looked, and I went back down and asked at the gas station but none of them lived on the mountain, so I bought a paper map but it didn’t help at all because Long Leaf Lane wasn’t even on it—”

“It’s a private drive, I don’t even know if they put those on maps,” Evan said.

“Evan, if this is your guy with the food and he’s not dying of stab wounds, I’m going to use your bathroom,” Nandini said. “Where is it?”

“There’s two, one upstairs with a claw-foot tub and one down on this floor, go back out of the kitchen and it’s the door on the east side of the living room,” Evan said.

“Great, using the downstairs one,” Nandini said, and ducked back out of the doorway.

“Are you okay?” Rhiannon asked Joe.

“I’ve been driving for ten hours. Last six of which I couldn’t find my way back down the mountain either, and I didn’t have any food and the only water was the ice that used to be in my Sprite that melted—”

“Come on, man,” Evan said, sighing. “Yeah, the GPS situation really sucks around here. I wouldn’t wanna try to find Long Leaf Lane if I hadn’t been coming here every summer for, like, ten years. Let’s get you upstairs and get you cleaned up.” He looked over at Harrison and the Pale Bro. “Guys, you know more or less where the stuff in the kitchen goes, right? Can you put the food away?”

“The ice cream melted,” Joe moaned. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, come on. Let’s get you a shower and a change of clothes. I’ll borrow something of Steve’s while you’re in the shower, he’s about your size.”

“I think I know,” Harrison said. “We put the meat in the freezer?”

Rhiannon and Evan said, “No!” at the same time, and Rhiannon added, “You’ve got to put it in the fridge. You can’t freeze most things twice, they get freezer burned.”

“Huh,” Harrison said, looking over the sheer quantity of meat that Joe had been trying to carry in a paper shopping bag with handles. “I guess we’re gonna go back to Jason and Angella’s at least one night this week, ‘cause this is way more meat than we can eat before it goes bad.”

The Pale Bro, who had just picked up the bag of melted ice cream and slurped the whole thing down like it was a milkshake, said, in the voice of a creature whose mouth was entirely full of melted ice cream, something very much like “Watch me.”

“Lemme go throw this shit out,” Harrison said of the paper shopping bag, whose bottom had almost disintegrated from holding way too much au jus for even a strong, well-made paper shopping bag to handle, and which smelled like a murder had been done, or at least that someone had lost an arm and was bleeding out.

Evan took Joe upstairs to the bathroom to wash himself, broke into Steve’s suitcase and took a random t-shirt and pair of shorts, and advised him that he could stay overnight, sleep on the couch, and have some eggs and bacon in the morning, now that he had brought the eggs and bacon.

And then they all heard Harrison screaming.

Evan got down the stairs approximately as fast as Nandini came racing from the bathroom, but Rhiannon, Y’lehna and the Pale Bro were out the door faster, having been closer.

Harrison was on the ground. The trash can had been dumped over. It was mostly cleaning products used by the team that cleaned the cabin between uses, but there were some banana peels and candy wrappers – and now, a bloody shopping bag – in the pile of trash.

Standing over the pile of trash, looking kind of pissed, was a black bear.

In the voice of a guy who has finally, finally gotten the chance to use his strength and size to protect his friends after like what seemed like twenty-seven false scares tonight, the Pale Bro said something that could possibly be understood to be “Fucking finally,” and charged at the bear.

The bear had a lot of mass, even more than the Pale Bro, who was a very, very skinny dude, but the Pale Bro was around twice as tall as the bear, had much longer claws, and was doing something weird to the space around the bear, making lensing effects that distorted all the angles of the trees and branches behind the trash can. The bear flailed a bit, and then the Pale Bro lifted it and held it straight out from his body, where its much smaller paws couldn’t hope to reach. It snarled and kicked and scratched, but the Pale Bro relentlessly carried it into the woods, where they both disappeared.

“Well.” Evan said. “Who wants to help me clean up this trash?”

“’Want’ is a strong word,” Harrison said, but he helped, and Nandini and Rhiannon pitched in. Y’lehna would have helped, but she had to run back into the cabin to run cold water over her arms and legs.

The Pale Bro returned minutes later, without a scratch on him. “Where’d you put the bear, dude?” Harrison asked.

The Bro conveyed that he could possibly have gone out to the cliff that ran alongside the road – the same cliff that, in a different location, had claimed the life of an entire case of beer – and by the way, did any of them know that bears bounce? Because he hadn’t.

“Dude, you didn’t have to kill it,” Evan complained.

“Yes, he did! It was gonna kill me! I don’t want it coming back for revenge!” Harrison gabbled out.

The Pale Bro declared that he hadn’t killed it. Before anyone could feel either relief or fear over that, he added that his mom lived down that way someplace and she would probably kill it, because eldritch spawn eat a lot and he had a lot of brothers and sisters.

***

And so the first night of their vacation ended, with the Pale Bro staying up all night playing video games with Trevor, who’d returned to the cabin with Steve once they’d both been informed that there was no psycho killer and Joe was actually fine, he’d just gotten really lost. Evan, Harrison and Steve went to bed like normal people, or rather, like normal people who are young men in college, around four am, after walking Rhiannon, Nandini and Y’lehna back to their cabin like gentlemen, because psycho killer or no, the woods were dark and any number of things could happen. In other words, it was a perfectly normal night on vacation, just like any group of friends in college might have.

As for anything that might have happened the next day, or any of the other days of their vacation… that’s a story for another time.

[rafe-cameron]

THE ANALYSIS OF JOHN B ROUTLEDGE

In the fandom, what I've seen is a lot of what I feel is misinterpretation of John B's character, which is leading to a lot of unnecessary slander, and overall a negative vibe surrounding John B, and giving a negative wave of backlash to those who do like his character. I am all for positive emotions, and supporting and liking and disliking whatever characters you'd like! Though, I would like to put this out here just as a way of explaining what I've seen in his character. This is not a professional opinion by any means, but I do have a habit and (ringing my own bell) talent in analyzing different characters from an unbiased point of view.

DISCLAIMER: All of this is not fact, but a closely analyzed opinion. You are free to disagree and I genuinely do not care if you don't like John B! I wrote this because I wanted to and feel it could help. And this is written FOR JOHN B. Don't hit me with comments of “but JJ also” or “but Kie didn't MEAN to” or anything, because I am not writing about them. I’m writing this one for John B, about John B, and how someone would view life through his eyes and with everything that happened.

Now, onto the analysis.

Episode 1:

John B has a wave of issues being presented in not-so friendly forms. A 16 year old is living alone, considering his father has been missing for 9 months. Looking at it that way, he's had to finish his school year while juggling constant jobs to take care to himself, for food, gas, and paying bills, on top of school. Even if it's revealed he missed a lot of school that year, it's hard to blame him. His mom left him when he was still a baby, His uncle by definition also abandoned him, and his father is gone. He's threatened with foster care daily, which means he would lose everything that he has, his home, and his friends, which are the only thing keeping his head above water.

That alone is enough to give him intense abandonment issues. Both parental figures left, his guardian is as he described it “MIA”, so his ability to process how people see him and how he sees relationships is going to be, at best, rocky. He's going to have it in his head that everyone around him can leave at any time and he won't have any sort of say in it. Not to mention the depression and the anxiety that would bubble up from all of this. Depression makes you lash out, anxiety makes you pull away, two things he's shown to have trouble controlling.

He gets an idea for a way to try and make his life better, and get money to support himself, JJ being the one to hype that up despite Kie and Pope being against it.

Come the party later that night at the boneyard. A widespread party with lots of people there, lots of drinking, and comes the fight between Topper and JJ, which led to John B stepping in to protect JJ.

This is the first of many times where John B is almost murdered or killed. Hearing Topper yells “dont make me drown you like your old man”, then being drowned by him, while everyone stood and watched until JJ went off his shits and saved him.

This? Is all just the first episode. A peek into the curtain of how his family abandoned him, then he gets his shit beaten in, and he gets drowned by Topper. This would only worsen his already fragile mental state. At this point, he's ready to call it off, and leave it alone, but JJ gets desperate to help his friend and himself, and he goes along with it. This leads to, again, him getting shot at by the two guys hunting down the compass he stole off the boat. The second time John B is almost killed.

“With no parents, no money, and no one looking out for me, I've got no chance, unless I make it on my own.”

He sees no way out of the hole he's in anymore unless he fights tooth and nail to get out of it, no matter what it takes.

Episode 2:

In this episode, he's got it in his head now that since he found a compass on a wrecked boat, that his dad is trying to reach out to him. When you have abandonment issues as deep-running as John B, any possible chance that someone who left already is trying to come back? You run with it. You cling to it like it is all you have, and for him, it is. This compass is all that he has to go on, and he's desperate to try and figure it out because this is his fathers last way of communicating with him.

He goes to Ms. Lana's house, and has to both watch and listen to two men terrorize her, and he is told vaguely by Ms. Lana that it is horrible that he has the compass. He returns home to talk to his friends, and goes to his dads office for the first time in a long time, and has to relive the fact his fathers gone at that point.

Only for the two guys to come to John B's house. They break in and completely ransack the place, they steal a good chunk of John B's fathers stuff. They have to sneak out of the window and go to hide until the two men leave, but, he has to sit and watch these people break apart his home and steal from him.

After all of that, they go to the lighthouse, where he's thrown into another panic over this compass that no one is telling him about. He's frustrated, and he's scared. They leave the lighthouse and in a complete blind instinct of adrenaline, he kisses Kie, and gets rejected by her. Then, he gets arrested, questioned, and has to get bailed out by Kie's dad, who insults him. Now Kie won't talk to him, and he has to go home to his damaged house.

He also has to get fired from hi only stable job, so now he has no money and no job, a damaged home, and lost a friend for now.

Not only that, but he does get hunted down by those two men again, and is almost killed for thr 3rd time, and runs through an electric fence, where he's almost killed the 4th time. He gives up his fathers compass, and while ull of hurt and despair for everything, returns home to try and move past everything, but he catches another glimpse of possibility, and he clings to it all over again.

And, his urge and crave to hunt down his dad only grows as they find the Redfield tomb thingy and find the package left behind by Big John.

Episode 3:

It starts off with John B having to sit through the emotion that comes with hearing his fathers voice for the first time in 9 months. The pain and the confusion and how much he missed him rushing back, it's a feeling that is hard to describe, but it is draining, and it doesn't feel good.

He talks to everyone about how he just wants to have a normal life, and stop stressing so much about damn near everything.

He's decently up in this episode, but his actions only worsen. He encourages stealing, and puts himself into risky situations. This is the bud of the suicidal/reckless tendencies he starts to develop as he starts to lose regard for his own safety, because subconsciously, he sees no point in caring about what happens to himself and those around him. This is where he gets desperate for a reason to keep existing, because he lost every other one that he had.

Episode 4:

In this episode, they find the merchant. They track it down and find it's empty, but John B isn't ready to give up.

He gets met, unfortunately, with DCS, who force him to pack, and start to take him away. In an attempt to not leave behind anything? He jumps from a moving vehicle, and is now being hunted down for the first time.

He's taken in by Sarah.

DISCLAIMER: OPINION.

This is where we see Sarah see that things with John B aren't cookie cutter. She knows hes plotting something, and she wants to get away from her Kook life and do something different and exciting. So, she tags along for the ride. Her and John B go out and Sarah puts John B into a situation where he is being led on by her, despite her being in a relationship. But, her desperation to break from her box gets the best of her, and John B clings to that romance, because a romantic relationship has a more solid foundation than a friendship to him. They're less likely to leave him. So, he wants to run with it.

This is a huge part of why he kissed Kie. In his eyes, if he's dating them, maybe they wont leave, but he can't have that same situation with just a friend. He knows that, and this is where he starts to push away his friends. Bite before you can get bitten, it's depression + abandonment issues 101.

Episode 5:

This one is.. a mess. Its a mess.

We start right off the bat with John B realizing that he can't go home anymore. JJ and John B get into a pretty nasty argument. JJ is concerned for his friend, and he wants him to be safe and stop all of this, naturally, but to John B? He hears JJ trying to give him on him, to abandon him, and to leave all of this. He reacts to this by lashing out at him, yelling at him, and talking about how he just wants to stop because he got beat up. Which, John B is still under the assumption it was just the Kooks, when it was both the Kooks and his father – something John B didn't catch onto. After they yell at eachother, John B has JJ following him again. It's a safe zone once more in John B's mind.

Then, after the party is crashed and they all meet up, John B tries to explain that Sarah got wrapped up into all of this. He has Kie, Pope, and even if JJ knew already, he's not too happy about it either. So he's got everyone mad at him for this, and even if spirits are high in terms of his recklessly driven hunt, he sees everyone around him getting angrier, and angrier. And that? Is making him angry too.

He goes to meet Sarah at the hawks nest. And once again, he is almost killed. He's shoved off of it by none other than Topper (who has tried to murder him twice now), and plummets, and ends up in the hospital.

But things can start to turn around, because Ward took him in and he has a legal guardian now, right?

No.

Ward is plotting to keep John B under his nose to make sure he doesn't find anything else out.

Episode 6:

Again, not much happens here. Things seem to be going good and despite Wards want for John B laying low, he doesn't. He finds the gold.

Episode 7:

Here, we  have another instance in which JJ's bad ideas get John B (and everyone) put into danger. After trying to pawn off the gold, they get stopped by Barry, who threatens to kill him and robs them. John B is quick to jump into the line of fire and get the gold back, desperate to keep it. He succeeds, but JJ barrels into Barrys house and robs him. JJ manhandles John B a good few times for trying to stop him.

And nearing the end of this, he's told by Ward that Ward knows about the gold, and wants John B to give it all up.

John B says no. He's gotten this far and can't lose it all to Ward. Not only that? But he finds out Ward had something to do with his father disappearing. That sort of news is heartbreaking. John B snaps just a little more, but so does Ward.

Episode 8:

John B and ward get into it. Ward is messy and doesn't hesitate to try and kill John B while they're on the boat. Again, for the 7th time, John B is almost killed, but escapes it just in time to keep going.

He goes to Lana, who explains that Ward was the one who killed his father. He finds out now that the man he trusted and the man that took him in both wanted to steal from him, and murdered his only parent? That's too much to carry for any one person.

Ward tells authorities John B tried to kill him, and he's being hunted down even more than he was before.

He sees now that again, all of his friends are both worried and angry with him. He's panicking at this point. He's stuck on the run and can't seem to catch a break, more so now that Ward figured out where the gold is, and sees him trying to leave with it.

Episode 9:

John B now is framed for the murder of Peterkin. He's almost killed by Rafe at the runway, and is now on the run again. He's facing major charges and none of them are of things he actually ever did.

John B has no choice but to run away from the OBX, from the US< and try and figure out what to do with himself from there.

He's almost killed by Rafe, again, because he set the bell tower ablaze.

But he manages to escape long enough so everyone can put together the pieces of his escape plan.

Episode 10:

He leaves. He leaves with Sarah on the boat, but of course, power has to go back on, and they lose their cover. They're both hunted down, chased out to sea, and is considered dead because of the storm. He survives again, but just by the skin of his teeth.

Looking back on everything that happened to  him just in these episodes, on top of knowing he had to deal with his father being gone for months without a clue of how to take care of himself, plus the fact he's now headed for his gold without anything but one bar and the clothes on his back?

John B quite literally lost everything. He lost his family, his home, his friends, his job, everything that kept his head above water, yet, he's expected to be the strong one, and the leader of the group.

He has expectations that he cant meet, and he's getting the wrong kind of help for his issues. Depression, anxiety, trust issues, abandonment issues, and I wouldn't be surprised if various forms of PTSD stemmed from everything that's happened to him. In no way is John B a perfect person. He is a flawed and complex character, who made poor choices, and acted out in bad ways, but, the entire gang is guilty of doing some bad things too.

JJ's aggression and lack of impulse control.

Pope's passive aggression and constant cold shoulder to not getting what he wants.

Kie's hostility and lack of self restraint.

Topper's sexism and abusiveness.

Rafe's drug abuse and abusiveness.

Again, you are so more than welcome to dislike and like whatever characters you want! Though, I hope this point of view can help clear up some of the thing's ive seen on John B being irredeemable and a bad friend to everyone.

John B is a wonderfully written, intense, lovable character, and I wanted to share my thoughts on him, his trauma, and his life! If anyone wants to see more deep character analysis', don't be afraid to request them! I enjoy doing them!

- jv

[greenninjagal-blog]

currently vibing in a two-week lockdown, can you share some of your favorite fics? i need some new things to read, and I've got too much time on my hands-

Aw man, same! The rest of my actual Spring Semester got turned online… Let’s see…..Fic recs for the pseudo End of the World (Courtesy of AO3, arranged by most prominent ship!) Keep in mind that my descriptions are shorter and written mostly for comedic effect than the actual fics, so if something looks interesting Click it! Get more info about it! Don’t just take my word! I tried my best to get a lot of variety of fics and topics and tropes, as well as authors that might not be as well known! Uhhh here are the links to lists I’ve already made for various other reasons check out my Fic Rec Masterlist!

I also am including various of my fav authors masterlists for funsies!

jungle321jungle’s || Max-isTired’s || TrashficParlour’s || Lefaystrent’s || Mine!

Completed Fics

A Deal in which Virgil tries to summon a familiar and gets a Circle King instead. And he’s really pretty. (Anxceit)

Love Like You in which Virgil decides to give up looking for a romantic partner and considers adopting instead. He finds more than he’s looking for with a set of twins and the man who watches over them (Anxceit)

A Dragon’s Tail in which Logan is cursed to be a Dragon by his best friends stepmother, Virgil is struggling to learn a power he can’t control, Patton who’d rather marry a servant than the Prince, and Roman has no clue what is going on but the Prince he’s supposed to be saving can probably kick his ass. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

A Game of Vice in which Remus kidnaps Roman and turns it into a game of who can come save him from his lonely tower. (Logicality, Prinxeity) 

double down with the paradigms in which Logan tries to explain away his own OCD while dealing with the emotions he has for a certain Pre-Vet. Excellent depiction of OCD, made me cry, 300/10 would read again. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

It Takes Two to Tango in which Roman begs his brother, Logan, to let him go back in time to meet a famous dancer. Falling in Love was not part of the plan. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

A favorite star in the heavens in which everyone has at least one soulmate. They’re luckily enough to have three each. (LAMP) 

Forgotten Forests and Magnified Myths in which Logan finds out very suddenly that he has the passive ability to talk to dragons. (DAMP, Remilie)

Sense5 in which five people in different countries are suddenly psychically linked together and uh…yeah fun times. (DLAMP)

Stray Hearts Are Subject To Change in which black cat hybrid Virgil plans to die very heroically in an alley and Roman completely messes up that plan by being a decent human being. (Prinxiety, Logicality)

Hidden In Shadows in which Virgil is the boogieman every adult warned you about but he doesn’t actually enjoy being scary. Good thing the three Sanders kids aren’t scared of anything. (Not so good for their very confused Dad who isn’t sure what to do about their new imaginary friend)

Paved with Good Intentions in which the dark sides agree to send Virgil to the light sides as a way to get Thomas to listen to them more. Now if Virgil can just get along with the Light sides enough to actually start making some progress…

Absent Gods and Silent Tyranny or: How Logan Learned to Stop Over Thinking and Love Everyone in which Logan is a morally grey scientist who just works for supervillains because they pay well. He doesn’t expect someone like Virgil to change that.

Series

Clouds and Moss AU in which the sides are gods and its very gay and very good. (Intrulogical, Roceit)

Colors in which Logan is an excellent Dad, Virgil is an amazing son, and the world is very colorful. (Logicality)

Labeled in which Logan is a famous superhero, Patton is a doctor, and they adopt the would-be super villain and everything is soft and lovely and I cry at the purity. (Logicality, Remilie)

Fbi!au in which the sides work for the fbi and I diligently reread these series of oneshots for a daily dose of serotonin!  (Logince, Moxiety)

Growing Old is More Fun with You in which Patton is a PTA dad and so is Deceit and they have a “rivalry”. (Mociet)

Gilded Cage in which Roman is forced to dance for the fairy queen whenever she wants it. (Prinxiety)

Renegades! in which the sides live in a dystopia and fight the government while being completely in love with each other. (Prinxiety, Logiciality) 

Love and Other Fairytales in which a couple decides to keep their changling and their actual son, a child is cursed gifted a voice that makes people do whatever he says, a boy makes a rotten deal for the sake of his friend, and centuries before any of this, a fae prince is tricked into an endless sleep by his brother. 

The Vampire Hunting Vampire in which Virgil was turned into a monster and LPR slowly convince him he’s not as bad as he thinks he is. Through cuddles. (LAMP, DLAMP)

Wasteland, Baby! in which there are things in the woods and Patton gets,,, intimate with them. On purpose! (LAMP)

Destined in which Damian has successfully ignored his Soulmates for five years and he planned on doing it for much longer but on his twentieth birthday fate intervenes with a second soultrait that forces him to come face to face with all of them. (DLAMP)

Old Gods in which Gods sometimes walk the earth and Remus is pleased to hear that people are still making offerings to him– wait that is not a goat. And other fun stories!

Sit back and watch the world go by in which Virgil is a human abducted by alien smugglers, befriends Patton, breaks out, and everyone fears humans as space orcs, almost as much as Virgil is afraid of them. 

Teaming the Pieces Together in which Thomas is a pokemon trainer and eevees just…click with him.

Tales from the Dark Sides in which the author provides a lovely hub of works where Virgil is abused by OC dark sides and DLMPR are there to help patch him up.

Uncle Emile and the Super Nephews in which Emile gets custody of his six nephews and tries to bond with them. They in turn try very hard not to tell him they have superpowers.

Cuffed Universe in which Remus is a cop chasing after a hacker, Logan breaks the laws and Virgil would just like tO KEEP ONE JOB WITHOUT ONE OR BOTH OF THE OTHERS DRAGGING HIM INTO THEIR SHIT. (Analomus)

Ongoing Fics

The Origin in which space travel via Thomas Sanders’s ship SS Revelation gets more complicated when the Planets themselves turn out to be entities who aren’t all on board with humanity spreading to the rest of the solar system. (Remile) 

Delicato in which Logan and Patton are music professors with very different conceptions of music, and Virgil and Roman are students in both their classes who just want them to kiss already. (Logicality, Prinxiety)

Coming out of The Shadows in which a small mutant child Virgil is treated as subhuman because of his uncontrolled ability to manipulate shadows up until a scientist buys him. (Royality)

Falling Stars At My Command in which Roman wishes on a star and Patton reaps the benefits while Logan unfortunately gets dragged along for the ride. (Royality) 

Sugar in which Patton has three sons and no free time to bother with a relationship while he’s trying to manage bills. At least until Roman walks into his life. Sugar Daddy anyone? (Royality) 

A Man, a Snake, and a Rat in which Logan, Deceit, and Remus become college roomates (Intruloceit) 

a.s.h.es, ashes (We all fall down) in which after Logan almost dies during one of his recuse missions, him and his partner start to dig into the superhero agency they’re employed by and stumble into something far bigger than they expected. (Logicality, Prinxiety, LAMP? LAMP)

Keep him safe in which Detective Logan falls for the owner of his new favorite bakery while his partner Roman falls for the gang member they’re chasing. Ft: emotions, a pet rat, dealing with delusions 101, trauma, and family so gooey it literally makes me melt whenever it updates. I love this fic so much. (Advertises as Logicality and Prinxiety but theres so much LAMP I can’t not put it down here)

Multitudes in which Virgil works at a coffeeshop, pines over the customers that come in, and wonders why they all tip him so well. (LAMP)

Songbird in which the only thing keeping Virgil’s parents alive is his voice: the moment the (new) King gets tired of listening to him its off with all their heads. And Virgil’s okay with that, he is…. Until three visiting nobles leaving him wishing for his freedom for the first time since he was ten. (LAMP)

Shatter in which Logan gets fed up with not being listened to, and takes some poor advice from Rage, which ends with the entire Mindscape being turned upside down and inside out. Now its up to Deceit fix it all. (aka the author decided it was about high time Deceit got some love and appreciation and I’m out here living for it.) (DAMP)

Incredible Cosmic Power in which Virgil awakens some genies by accident and they refuse to let him go back to living a relatively normal peaceful life. (DLAMP)

Plea for my New Self in which Vampire Virgil decides he wants to start over again, and goes back to college to work on coding. There he proceeds to do reckless good with his absurd amount of wealth and a “fuck it” attitude. Actually one of my favorite things ever okay. I love this one so much. (DLAMP)

Your Wish Is My Command in which Thomas accidentally rubs six lamps and becomes the glorified babysitter to six jinn who definitely don’t trust him. But its fineeee. (DLAMP)

6 Dads in which Deceit, Emile, Remus, Roman, Thomas, and Remy make a relationship work and their children aren’t sure how but go along with it anyway.

Rebel Rebel in which Thomas, a well respected man, visits the Imagination, for some pleasure business as a one time thing. Except that he keeps coming back. Maybe maybe falls in love with one, two, thr– all of the men who work there. 

A New Kind of Experiment  in which Virgil runs away from home, and ends up kidnapped by merman, and somehow he doesn’t mind that much.

Becoming His Own Hero in which everyone has to juggle their superhero lives with their regular lives and sometimes…its just hard.

don’t wanna be a tragedy in which brothers Roman and Remus get a house and subsequently find out its totally, completely, 100% haunted.

Don’t You, Forget About Me in which the author recreates Breakfast club and does it spectacularly.

Heart’s Heroes in which Patton may be a villain but that does not mean he wants to see the child heroes of the city dead.

Mortals and Fae in which Deceit barely escapes the wrath of his town when they all turn against him. Dying, he stumbles into a fairy circle hoping that with his name the fae make his death short and sweet. Big Shock for him when he wakes up with a Fairy Prince swearing to protect him.

Sanders Family in which Thomas adopts six kids and has no regrets about it.

How Not to Go About an Important Inspection in which after a devastating betrayal the crew of the USS Bifrost is docked for repairs and the crew just wants to go back to being a normal family but Command is insisting on an inspection to ensure nothing so…drastic occurs again.

Symbiotic in which certain Vampires have a vemon that leaves with victims craving getting their blood drunken. Deceit, one of these Victims, continues to burn bridges because that’s easier than admitting he might need help dealing with this. 

[stevenuniversetanzanite]

Gone and Left Your World (Venable X Reader (part 4))

I noticed I spelt psychic wrong so many times in the last parts and probably in this too. I apologize for that. 

I will name in the series in a week to a month like I am doing with my Cordelia series.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four

Warnings: N/A

You had to pass Coco’s room in order to get to your own. Unfortunately, she happened to be in said room at the time of passing. She wasn’t alone, accompanied by Gallant and Mallory.

“What? I don't want to rub it in for the ones that don't get picked. No offence, Mallory.” They must have been talking about the selection for the sanctuary. Of course, Coco would assume she was getting in, she was a rich (almost) influencer back before the world turned to hell. You don’t know how she could see that as more important than someone who could actually do work like Mallory. Gallant has a better chance of making it than her. Not that you cared. You doubted the girl has done an honest day's labour in her life, she had staff serving her every day of her life.

Mallory didn’t think she would get in. Coco was convinced that the people who were getting in already knew, something about her one-on-one with him being ‘illuminating’.

You didn't like the chances of getting in yourself, threatening the person here to 'save' you wasn't going to save you a spot. He said he liked your mind but nothing much was happening in it, you weren't a scholar, none of you were. He jumped around, knowing things he shouldn't have. You knew he was bad, but this confirmed it, and you threatened him. Shit. You don't even know how powerful he is. You're all alone in this, no one would get you if you explained it to them.

“Wait. Did something weird happen to you, too?”

Wait- You froze in place.

“What are you babbling about? What did he say to you?”

No? She couldn't be- could she?

“It wasn't anything he said. It was uh a feeling,” Mallory’s word caught your interest. You popped your head into the room to watch. The others were too busy to notice your presence. “I think I set the room on fire.”

“What? Like you knocked over a candle or something?”

“No. Like flames shot out of the fireplace and went everywhere. I know this is impossible, but I think I made the fire with my mind.”

Coco scoffed, “Yeah, we're definitely not talking about the same thing.”

Mallory compared herself to a superhero (“…and now I'm like the Dark Phoenix.”). You leant against the wall in the hallway, still listening, waiting for Mallory to leave the room to find out more. The rich snob and her hairdresser took what she said joking. You knew you should have too but with all the strange things you’ve seen and heard, you needed to know more. You couldn't explain away the dreams- visions- whatever they are. You had seen her face, not only her but her annoying boss as well. You didn't feel hate when you saw them, but now, always towards Coco, you couldn't stand her face.

 “Come on. Prove it. Make flames shoot out everywhere.” There was some time before anyone spoke. “This is pretty lame, even for you, Mallory. Some people just have nothing special about them, and you have to be okay with that.”

 She told her to use her power to shut up and disappear. She needed her costume to be ready for tonight. She recommended for the woman to look for supplies in Evie’s room as she won’t be needing them anymore.

Mallory walked past, bumping into you. She apologised and kept walking, staring down at the ground. Their dickheads sometimes- correction- all the time.

“She's out of her mind,” Gallant said.

 “This place is full of looneys, speaking of one, that L/N was eavesdropping. I mean, who can hear the dead? That’s ridiculous.” Coco said. “Do you really think she’s with Venable? It wouldn’t surprise me since the woman has been eye-fucking her since the (hair colour) haired bitch arrived.”

“She’s fucked up enough to be her type. Insane and murderous partners well with-”

You don’t want to hear the rest of the nonsense that could leave their mouths. You chased after Mallory who was heading towards the late Evie’s room. You called after her. She stopped shuffling through the dead woman’s belongings and paid all her attention to you. She said your first name back.

“Did you really mean what you said back in Coco’s room?” You asked. You immediately apologised for eavesdropping, but she cut you off.

“I did, but it’s probably just the place getting to me. It seems ridiculous-”

“You’re talking to the person who’s claimed repeatedly to hear ghosts.” You thought about that for a second. “Forget I said that I just realised how insane that sounds. My point is I believe you.”

“You do?” You pulled her down to sit on the bed so you could talk to her properly.

“A part of me feels like I’ve already met you. Not some past life bullshit but before the apocalypse.” You move a bit away from her and move your attention away from her. “Since I got here, I’ve been having these ‘dreams’ of a life I’ve never had. You and Coco were in one, along with some people I have never met before.” You chuckled, “Coco was nicer. Like really nice, especially to you. I think she admired you. That’s beside the point. I don’t think we’re here by coincidence.”

“What are you saying? That we're not who we think we are?”

“Exactly. You feel it too, I can tell.” Mallory looked unsure. Your meaning resonated with her, but your reasoning was losing her. “Coco’s father bought five tickets,” She went to correct you, but you kept talking. “A mistake was made, and I managed to get it for reasons we aren’t going to discuss. Think the chances of Coco’s family not making it to the plane and the accidental booking was intentional.” You couldn’t tell if she believed you or was just humouring you because you were a higher rank than her. “I have four years of my life missing from my memory. I would never have touched a bottle of alcohol before. Whatever, they are hiding from us, I didn’t cope with well.”

“Y/N, I have to get back to work.”

“-making Coco’s mask, right? I can help-”

“Y/N~”

She was trying to get away from you.

“You think I’m crazy. You’re trying to get away from me.” She said your name again. “No, I get it.” You raised your hands defensively. “You think I’m crazy as well. I thought you were different- I – I should go.” She called you once more. “Someone will answer me.” You were agitated. The candles flickered all around you, Mallory picked up on this. You stormed out of the room; the lights stilled the moment you left. She stuck her head out to see the same effect following you. The lights flickered and then calmed when you were far enough away. Maybe she should believe you.

~~~

No one knew what to do with you. There were only two options, go with the two girls and protect them or stay with Cordelia, Myrtle and Madison. Your powers could be covered by you also being a medium; change a few details and about yourself and your connection to the other two and you were golden. That didn’t solve the fact that your fiancé was running the place.  You were adamant that she would kill you on sight while Myrtle (and Cordelia to a lesser extent) believed you’d be fine. The choice was down to you in the end. The path you’d choose. They weren’t going to force you or sway you in a way, but they would make you decide and quick. You had a night to think about it, they needed to send off the other two and couldn’t wait around for you.

 Resting on the porch, the moonlight reflected the swamp waters. You sighed, sometime soon all of this would be wiped away and replaced with a dystopian nuclear wasteland.

 The light evening breeze will carry radiation. The trees, if they still stand, will be dead, rotting due to the chemicals getting into the soil. With no natural food source people will turn on each other. Cordelia told you about her vision (you were the go-to witch on all things dead), hoping you could help them in some way, but it only scared you.

There’s been too much death for one person to see in one lifetime. There was only more to come, the bombs would go off, people would scream. Everything reminded you of what you saw, you tried to remain strong for your sister witches, but you were tearing at the seams.

 All the blood and carnage you had seen. It’s scarred and haunts your very soul. You didn’t want to wait around while more deaths occur. Deaths occur every day, but the knowledge of impending doom made you more aware of the numbers. How would the world end? You assumed in fires; the gates of hell would open unleashing abominations among the living. Beasts once human tearing you from limb to limb, you’d choke on your own blood as they tear into the stomach and slurp your intentions like it was spaghetti. The numbers of fatalities would accumulate, one or two now, thousands later. If you stuck with them, you’d be forced to wait around with the knowledge you couldn’t save everyone. The pile of bodies would rise. The mass death of bodies with the complex relationship you had controlling your power- you couldn’t handle it.

If you just left, you wouldn’t have to make a choice. People are going to die no matter what you do but if you don’t survive the bombs, you’ll never have to worry about that, because you’ll be dead.

All you had to do was get far enough away before they discovered you're gone.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You spun around. Thank god, it’s just Madison.

“On a walk-”

“Bullshit, you’re leaving!” Her yelling caught the attention of the two other young witches. They watched on through the window.

“No~ why would you think that?” You were flustered.

“Okay, then. Where you going on your walk?”

“Just around the swamp?”

“At night?”

“Yes.” You dragged this out.

“Leaving the only place that is safe.” The place had been surrounded by a protection spell, one that was completed this time without interruption.

“I need to think.”

“You can do that here.”

“NO, I CAN’T!” The other girl was shocked by your sudden yelling.

“What’s going on out there!” Cordelia asked, bursting through the front door, annoyed the two were causing a stir at ten at night. You gave Madison a look saying, ‘don’t you dare tell her’.

“Y/N’s running off!” You weren’t going to lie anymore. There’s no point in dragging this on.

“Were you?” you didn’t nod, nor did you deny. “WERE YOU Y/N!” You unveiled the beast hidden beneath her soft, loving persona. You betrayed her- or at least that's how she saw it. You were a surprise; she didn’t think you made it and now you were walking away like none of this mattered. You might as well have never shown up at all.

“I’m done with this.” You didn’t get very far before she was holding you back with her magic. She wouldn’t be able to hold you for long without exhausting herself. You could use that to your advantage.

“Why?”

“Why?” you chuckled out. “’Why not?’ is a better question. I’m not contractually obligated to help you out. I have nothing keeping me going.”

This was not your fight. Michael wasn't your problem.

“You have us.” This meant little to you. Yes, they were your friends. Would you die for them? No. You were selfish. You always have been, not in the way everyone thought. You were self-destructive, you fed your own suffering the moment you left your heaven. You’d seen hell and this path led you straight to the devil’s den.

Buy your time Y/N, you thought. Open up a can of worms that will make her beg for you to leave. You heard tales from before you joined the academy, from the days of Madison, Queenie and Zoe (rest in peace). You had learnt what happened to Misty, it had been used as an example (When Cordelia wasn’t around) to teach the girls not to do spells that could potentially harm them without being powerful enough.

 To save yourself from reliving the next few moments; the bone-crushing pain as she constricted your body with her powers (intentionally or not you’d never know) and the shrill pain and anger in her voice, that you’d rather forget.

Cordelia told you that they needed you. With the most sinister smile you could muster, you brought up the girl, how if they needed everyone they could get, why didn’t they involve Misty. That’s when the crippling pain started, you fought your ground. She would have to break every bone in order to keep you here and she wouldn’t do that. Cordelia told you because she was never meant to be a part of this, she got the girl killed (blamed herself for getting her stuck in hell etc) and she was trapped in hell. You interrupted, you’re living your personal hell, you never wanted to be able to see and talk to the dead. It’s affected every aspect of your life, and everything would be better if you never had your powers or better yet heard about the stupid school.

“Face it Cordelia, they're dead! They're all dead! And we will be too,” You said. “I won’t be much use with you guys. What you want from me is impossible? Might as well save your breath and let me go.” Her powers on you were dwindling.

 “You're more useful than gluten-free detector.” Madison added her two cents.

 “Madison-” Cordelia scolded. “Y/n, we need you-”

 “I can’t. All I can do is hear the dead.” You looked at them individually, taking in their expressions. “You’ll do fine without me.” After your final word, Cordelia dropped towards the ground feeling faint. Madison caught her before she met the decking. You wanted to rush over and help her, she wanted that. It would get you to stay. You stepped forward but retracted that step. Her eyes lit up for one second seeing she almost had you.

 “She will be there.” Her final attempt to get you to stay.

 “All the more reason not to help.”

~~~

It was hours before the Masquerade ball Venable and Mead announced for a Halloween to celebrate all they had been through. You had your mask laying out on your bed. You decided to keep it simple, not being much of a party person or wanting to be in the spotlight. You knew Coco was going to be over the top with everything. You felt bad for Mallory who probably had to do most of the prep work helping her get ready for the night of festivities. Then again, she too found to be crazy, maybe she deserved to do the work. No, she’s still a nice person.

A knock on your door snapped you out of your thoughts as you were setting up something that would take you time up until the ball. “Who is it?” you yelled. Mallory responded. You sighed, getting up to allow her inside.

“You’re right.”

“What?”

“Something is up with all of this. I shouldn’t have been able to do what I did. The crazy is the only thing making sense nowadays.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping Coco?” this came out more condescending then you meant it to.

“I needed to clear the air with you. Did you learn anything since we last talked?”

“No, but I jotted down everything I could remember from my little ‘visions’ and came up with every possible scenario I could think off.” She nodded her head and looked at the notebook you passed her. “This might seem ridiculous- “

“-what part of this isn’t.” You chuckled at her interruption.

“Could we be witches?”

She nodded, “Yes, ridiculous.” You backed up your claim, you had heard it mentioned a few times in your dreams, here were a ton of witchcraft books in the library and powers. It made sense. “Why are we here then? What are we meant to do?”

 “Isn’t it obvious- stop Langdon.” You held another book in your hands, you had read it over ten times. You knew it was important, but you couldn’t comprehend why. “We all have our parts to play Y/N. She has hers, you have yours.” You murmured under your breath. She asked you what you meant by that. “It was something I heard a vision/dream thing. A woman was trying to get me to do something, bring back her friends or something and I couldn’t.”

 “Revive them?”

 “More. Their souls had been erased by him- H-how do I know that? That wasn’t explained. Nevertheless, an impossible feat. Billie told me so herself but claimed if anyone could do it, it was me- WHERE THE FUCK IS THIS COMING FROM?”

 You heard Coco calling out Mallory’s name. She stiffened. She was getting ready to leave when you grabbed her arm. “No, you can’t leave. I’m making progress.” She went to say something, “If she can’t find you, it’s her fault. You aren’t her personal assistant anymore. I can get you out of it if you get into any trouble.”

There was another knock on your door. You recognised the knocking pattern easily. You told Mallory to hide in the closet and not make a sound. You would tell her when it was safe come out.

Venable came into your room to tell you about tomorrow night. She knocked on the door and waited for you to response. You yelled you were getting changed as you hid all the belongings scattered about your room as well as making sure Mallory was well hidden.

You allowed Venable to enter. Once the door was shut and locked behind her. She pulled up a chair to face you where you sat on your bed. 

“Mina, what are you doing here?” you asked, knowing full well you were going have to explain this later to the person hiding in your cupboard.

“It’s about the party tonight. I don’t want you to come. I need you to hide away until I come looking for you okay?”

 “Why? What are you going to do?”

“Nothing my darling. I’ll explain it all later.”

She knew you would disapprove and try and convince her out of it. If you didn’t know you couldn’t do much to stop her. All she wanted to do was keep you safe. She hadn’t told Mead about you and her yet, she was saving that until after the deed was done.

 “Alright, love.”

“Stay safe, baby girl.” She placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room.

 You told Mallory it was safe to come out. She gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything. You would have threatened her to keep her mouth shut but you had a feeling by the end of the night there would be no one to tell.

“You’re staying with me,” you commanded. She went to voice her concerns, but you weren’t having them. “That’s a direct order.” You never ordered the greys around more than you had to, and, in this situation, she was better off with you than the others. You knew you were sentencing the others to death but if you saved them than you were only risking yourself.

 “What about Coco and the others?”

 “We don’t know what she’s going to do but for humanity or what’s left of it, it’s best if we stay out of the way.” You said, not pleased with what you were saying. “Anyway, I need your help. If we have any time left, we’ll save them.”

 You sat on your bed, a book on your lap. You set an hourglass ready to be flipped for a timer. “How do we know this is going to work?” Mallory asked. You didn’t, your running on gut instinct. With chances of death, you shouldn’t be taking this lightly. On the outside, you were calm and collected (better described as a reckless moron), you had to try to keep your hands from trembling. The books page stained from when your sweaty fingers touched the page. Everything will be fine. OR YOUR GOING TO FUCKING DIE. No. Maybe. You’re not a psychic- oh wait.

“This is going to be dangerous.” For you, not her. You didn’t clarify. She didn’t ask.

 The book was full of ancient spells lost to time. That’s dramatic but there weren’t for beginners-hell the front advises you not to do this unless you’re a level three witch/warlock and specialise in said field. The book contained parts of all branches of witchcraft; from spellcraft to ‘green magic’ (botany. There was something for every purpose. There was one for time travel, that’s weird. One thing they all have in common is they can all cause death if done incorrectly. Good thing you’re a well-trained magic-user. Yeah, even sarcasm isn’t going to save your arse.

 From what you read this was an alternated version of Descensum. There was no guarantee you would be able to remember who or why you were there. This changed version was meant to help you remember that your mission and keep you on path. It was also supposedly meant to slow down the time you could stay there, time worked differently in the netherworld, five minutes hopefully won't be an hour on the land of the living. You only had an hour so you need all the time you could get.

 "I don’t know if this alteration will help me, it has never been tested with success.”

“Wait- what?”

“That’s why you’re here. I need you to try and wake me when the timer is close to running out.”

“What happened when it runs out?”

“Who knows,” you said way too cheerily.

You laid down, waiting for Mallory to get ready to flip the hourglass before chanting the phrase.

 You jolted awake in a dark room. Sounds of yelling penetrated through the walls vibrated through the air around you. The room lacked personal items, only containing a dull bed and dresser. Your parent’s friends were over again. You hated the lot of them when they hung out. Your parents, much like the rest of your family had no restraint when it came to drinking. Best to stay away, you noted. You usually slipped out your window for a couple hours, riding your bike to the nearest library to study. You tugged at the window but it wouldn’t open, bolted shut. Shit. You opened your bedroom door and entered the hallway. Aspects of it were off but it had been years since you had been in your childhood home. The walls were pixelated, that statically effect you get naturally when looking at something but enhanced by ten percent. The doors were in all the wrong places and the pictures were all scribbled over. The images from throughout your life, not only your childhood.

“What’s going on?” You asked, hoping someone would answer you. No one was at home. This wasn’t your home. It was two unfamiliar. Someone had corrupted your parent’s house.

It’s wrong.

Everything’s wrong.

The details of your first home rearranged causing a disorientating experience. You couldn't remember what details were right, the place was messing with you. Where were you? Which house were you in? You caught a glance of yourself in a golden framed mirror you swore was the same one you had at your house with Mina. You were dressed like a kid playing dress-ups. Nothing went to together, styles clashed, the only common theme is that you had rocked the styles individually in the past.

You felt eyes watching you. You had no time to think about that right now, you had to make sense of surroundings. Or maybe you didn't?

This was your hell, utter confusion. It kicked up your new(ish) found identify complex to the max. Behind you a shadowy figure loamed but when you spun around, he was gone.

You were here for a reason, get on with it. You’re in hell. This wasn’t that bad, disorientating yes but the self-awareness of being here ruins any terror. What was your hell meant to be? They couldn’t even decide on one thing for you.

You had to find that figure, they would know how to help you. There was a door where the being stood. The door was black with a golden handle. It was your best guess on getting out of there. It led to a long corridor; it was dead silent. Protected from the horrors behind the doors. The walls were grey with a glossy finish allowing to see yourself. Yellow fluorescent lights hung above you, each perfectly spaced apart from the last. All parallel.

Were any of these people erased? Michael couldn’t have gotten rid of this many people, could he? None knew you. Each time you opened a door you expected for someone to call your name, surprised by your presence. No, something was wrong?

“Where am I?” You yelled at the ceiling. “Where did you send me?”

You couldn’t keep testing doors in an endless hallway. One more and you’re done. You opened the door to see Mead? Unlike the rest of the people, she seemed to be enjoying her torment. You entered the room keeping a distance from the woman. You didn’t know she died.

She noticed your presence immediately.  From what you gathered, this place was meant to be some sort of hell, but she didn’t appear to be in pain. This room was wrong. Maybe it was a clue?

“Who are you?” she asked, her words filled with hate. She could tell you weren’t meant to be here; you weren’t one of the usual demons.

“You don’t know who I am? Interesting.” You treated her like eighth grader’s science experiment. “Don’t worry, I’m just a worker. Just making sure your stay is as terrible as possible.”

“Dressed in Victorian wear?”

“Yes.”

You scooped out the room, something had to be off. How did she not know you? You noticed a crack between the wall and the floor, a white glow came from between the crack. Was there another floor? If there was another floor, they were stairs. You exited the room, to see if the cracks continued. They did. You followed the way. You felt your body being shoved, no! you're so close. You were going to do this if it’s the last thing you do.

If they weren't going to come to you, you could come to them. Whether it be because you were trashing the place or because you found out where they had been hiding.

“The floor has to go.” You stomped, attacked and tore at the floor hoping it would give saw. You were forced to duck into a room and grab the nearest sharp object. You opened the black door and you were greeted with a peaceful cabin in the woods. It recked of wild animals. You scanned around looking for something strong enough to make some damage.

You ran into the room, flipping everything in your way for something to destroy the place.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?” A woman’s voice broke through the ruckus you were creating. You looked over at the woman, an elder blonde lady who looked to dressed up to be in a place like this stared at you, a glass in her hand.

“You the room’s owner?” The woman nodded. You could have sworn you had seen someone like her before, in a photo or painting somewhere. You shook your head. “I don’t have time for this, the world depends on me. Do you have anything that can smash through the floor or make any damage whatsoever?” You didn't care at this point. Maybe you should just release everyone, that would work too.

The woman scoffed; she took a sip of her drink, “The world wouldn’t depend on a Victorian lady. The worlds moved on since then.”

“You’re the dead one bitch,” She looked at you confused for a second. Then it clicked you weren’t an ordinary human.

“You’re not human?”

“Psychic.”

“Psychics can’t travel between life and death. You’d have to be something else as well.”

“I only got an hour for this, so can you please tell me if I’m wasting my time here or not.” She turned to face you completely.

“There’s an axe in the room to your right.” You ran back to the door.

"What year are you from?"

You went to the room and there was, in fact, an axe. You cheered. "2021, I think. It's hard to tell nowadays. You know end times and all." She didn't know what you were one about. She must have died before then. “To keep it quick, the apocalypse happened. Humanities down to one outpost run by my kind of ex- long story- anyway a man, the anti-christ has come to ‘rebuild the world’ and we need to stop him. Problem is, other than where in his father’s domain, he is super powerful. To my knowledge, only three women are left. Two if I die here.”

“Witch?”

“My life’s a long story-” You said swinging the door opened. "You like causing chaos?"

She perked up.

Was it a smart idea taking someone out of their hell for your own benefit? No. Do you care? No. You scrapped your idea of finding them, the place was infinite. You had to bring them to you. You told her to let as many people out as possible, get them to cause a riot, whatever, just make it big. You wanted to be heard.

It only took a couple of minutes to turn the place into a madhouse.

You felt your body being shoved again. You clenched your heart. You need more time. “You don’t happen to know any of the demons or spirits or whatever working here, one I could make a deal with.” You asked the woman.

She gave you one, the name of a Voodoo Loa she had made an offer to back when she was alive. You were expecting the name of an old god, maybe a Greek god or something but anyone would do. You had heard of his name before, Papa Legba, the gatekeeper of the spirit world. If anyone knew anything, he was your best bet, if he couldn’t help you, he might know who. You were prepared to make any deal you had to rid the earth of that man.

You gasped for air, chest heaving as you tried to get in as much air as humanly possible. Your need to breath distracting you by your near success. You’d almost done in, that mysterious blonde lady in your dreams would have been proud of you, but you were cut short. You had so little time. You had to go back there. You needed air.

You didn't recognise you were back until Mallory scrambled to your side, checking to make sure you were fine. You pushed her away the moment you got your breath back. “How did it go? what happened?” Mallory asked.

“I found out about someone who might be able to help but I didn’t get enough time to find him” You stared into thin air. “I need to go back, seal the deal.”

“You cut it close this time, what if I can’t wake you up next-”

You noticed mist wafted around the room’s floor. The shadowy figure from before took a seat on the armchair in the corner of your room. His eyes were red, and he wore greyish-white face paint in the shape of a skull matching by a hat with small skulls around it, decorated with various bird feathers. You were confused about why he was there, you hadn’t petitioned for his presence, formality hadn’t been your strong suit in years.

He had come out of his own accord, not for yours. Word had gotten out that you were causing trouble hell. Letting people go, interfering with other people’s hells as well as making it difficult to decipher what your personal hell was.

“The spirit witch, I heard about you.” The spirit said. “Was expecting you to visit sooner”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble, in your short time down there.”

“Plenty more of that where it came from unless I get what I want?”

He already knew what you wanted, “What you want is near impossible.”

“‘Near’, I like my chances.”

“You sure about that?”

Positive. If there is any way, you have to tell me.

“I don’t have to do anything.” He wanted something out of it.

“But you know something?”

I might. What is your offer?

“I don’t know what needs to be done so how can I make a good offer.”

“I can get you back the souls, but it will get me in trouble with the others.”

“I don’t just want their souls. I want them back.”

“That will cost you more.”

“Uh, the antichrist.”

“The antichrist?”

“Yes, he’s on earth. You can have him.”

“How are you going to get him to me?”

“We’re going to kill him. But I need the girls to do so.”

“The process is difficult.”

“You want more?!”

You looked over to Mallory, who shrugged. She didn’t know how to deal with spirits. Neither of you knew of something you could offer to seal the deal.

“A soul for a soul.” You’d have to give him many souls in order to get all your girls back and living.

“If I give you two souls, I get two girls back in the living” He nodded. “What about the others?”

“Whatever I see fit.” He’ll probably keep them. He had a thing for keeping souls.

Who else could you offer up? Then it hit you, “You can have me.”

“Y/N, no!”

“By the end of the day, you can have me in exchange.”

He hummed. “Deal.”

With that he was gone. Mallory looked mad at you. “You don’t know what your doing is even the best thing to go and you gave yourself away. All for some random woman in a dream that might not even be real.”

“Yep. Don’t tell Venable.”

Neither of you knew what or who to suspect, all you hoped is you got the right two girls. To be fair, you didn’t know how to girls could help you save the world, but you guessed there was strength in numbers. Their value better be worth your soul. You had no idea what was waiting for you in the sp. You promised he could have your soul (and in turn do what he wished with it) but you never promised to behave.

“You shouldn’t have given up yourself,” Mallory scolded you for the fifth time since he left. It was a waiting game now, you were told to wait behind by Venable, you didn’t know how to tell her that sold your soul away. You hoped you wouldn’t have to, maybe you could kill him and in turn yourself before she found out.

Two voices brought your attention towards a pair of young women about Mallory’s age.

“Y/N? Mallory?” they both said.

“How do they know who I am?” You shrugged in response to Mallory’s question. The two looked at Mallory confused by the words that left her mouth.

“Where are we?” One asked.

“Outpost three. The world ended, she saved you.”

You nodded, while still trying to catch your breath. The two saw all the spell things set up as well as the hourglass. They had their suspicions on what one of you did. From looking at it, it was you. From there knowledge you couldn’t do control your natural powers let alone do Descensum. The unfamiliar scenery along with you and Mallory’s strange attire told them they weren’t at the academy anymore. They remembered what happened. They had died but it didn’t feel like death. It felt like they were ripped out of the time they were in and shoved in the room they were now. There clothes stained with the blood but no wounds.

Mallory filled them in on how the world had turned into a toxic wasteland. How you two had been sent her due to your boss’ family not being able to make it before the world ended. She admitted to not knowing who either girl was. One of them muttered about Cordelia probably doing a memory spell. You knew that name, Cordelia. You had heard it so many times. You reacted to the name.

“You mean that nice blonde lady who was a- I don’t remember the word,” You asked.

“Supreme?”

“Bingo.”

“How did you save us if you can’t remember who we are?”

“That woman- Cordelia, she told me so many times that I needed to find a way to save the girls. Mainly you two. It must have stuck with me after all these years.” Mallory went to say something, you feared about the price you had to pay so you decided to cut her off. “All other details are irrelevant now and won’t help us. So, tell us, what makes you two so important?”

“Nothing much, Mallory’s more important than us.” Mallory cocked her head. “We’re the teachers of the school along with being a part of the witch’s council.”

 “How am I important?”

“You’re the next supreme,” Queenie said. She had to tell her what the supreme was. Mallory thought that was a mistake, claiming that you had shown more power than her, the only thing she had down was cause fires to spit out everywhere.

The two needed to figure out why neither of you could remember. What had Cordelia done to seal your safety?

 Venable stood on the balcony overlooking all the festivities. All the men and women were cheering and applauding as they took turns bobbing for apples.

 “Let's all wait until each person has had an opportunity to participate in tonight's activities. Then we will feast together like civilized beings,” Venable said as the first person to get an apple went to take a bite.

“I can't find The Fist, Y/N, Coco or Mallory anywhere and Mr.

Langdon has declined our invitation,” Mead informed Venable. “We got to put the brakes on. Stop it now. No witnesses.”

“It's too late for that.” Venable turned to face her partner in crime, a delicious grin on her face. “Once they've had their fun, we'll bring the festivities and your gun to him.”

Venable went back to observing the party. Emily missed her apple, she chuckled while saying, “Oh, I suck at this game.” Timothy offered to share with her. Venable grimaced.

Apples willed with snakes’ venom. Once eaten the venom enters the bloodstream through their digestive tract. Immediate breakdown of their nervous systems and the lining of their stomachs. With none of them knowing that the deed had been done, there was no way of slowing the process and with no doctors or medicine, they were done for. A perfect crime. Near perfect if they could have gotten everyone. “It won't be pretty,” Mead described it.

Venable held the fruit in her hands, raised so they all could see it as she thanked The Cooperative for the blessed fruit, they have bestowed upon them.

The world had turned full circle. The original sin, an apple taken from the tree of knowledge. Humans developed away from the eye of God, who needed god when you had free will. Greed and hate-fuelled his people. In the end, all the progress humans had made will end the same way, by partaking in the forbidden fruit.

The final sin by modern man.

Thou shalt not kill

“It is time to enjoy our good fortune. You have your treat.”

Everyone takes a bite of their apples. They began to retch then cough. Blood came out. Dead occupants scattered all over the music room.

“Now, that went off rather well, don't you think? Little messier then I would have hoped.”

“Least we don't have to worry about cleaning up. We shouldn't keep Mr Langdon waiting.”

“Ladies, I'm a little busy right now formulating my selections.

“This won't take long.”

“What's this?”

 “We're making the selections now, Mr.

Langdon.”

 “And I'm afraid you didn't make the cut.”

 “I'm sorry.” Langdon laughed. “I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn't hold it in.”

 “You think this is funny?”

 “I think I'm impressed, Ms Venable. I wasn't sure you had it in you. You've passed the test. You're perfect for The Sanctuary.”

 “Ms Mead.”

 I wouldn't do that.

 “Ms Mead.”

 The bullet went straight through her. Venable gasped. As the blood seeped out, through all her shock of being betrayed by the person whom she believed was her friend, she remained composed. All she could think about as she laid on the ground where she fell was how she had failed you.

 “I don't know why I did that. I was always loyal to her.” Ms Mead rushed out.

“It's all right. You were obeying commands like you're programmed to do. My commands,” Michael comforted. He leant over her fallen body, “You could’ve been a good subject in the new world. Oh well, another lot of wasted protentional.” He crutched down, getting closer to her face, “what did you do with the medium? You wouldn’t have sent her to her death, where did you hide her?” Venable stared daggers at the man.

 “The girl is still alive?” She was confused about what girl. Venable never spoke of you to her.

 “Her lover. Venable would have hidden her before setting up the masquerade,” He filled Mead in. “Tell me where she is, and I will save you.”

 “Over my dead body,” Venable chocked out.

 “So be it.”

 “She won’t be getting far. Once she finds out about her lover, she’ll be back.”

 “How can you guarantee that?” Besides the fact that he was the antichrist.

 “She’s weak. She’ll be begging for us to bring her back.” He counted on that.

 You all heard the gunshot from your bedroom. Zoe and Queenie was more alarmed than you and Mallory. You both knew the leader of the outpost was up to something but didn’t know the logistics.

 “Venable?” Mallory asked.

 “Probably,” you responded back. You needed to come up with a game plan and quick. “It’s the safest for me to go out because of my ‘relations’ to the leader. Mallory kept with those two while I get the location and status of Langdon.”

 “Michael Langdon’s here?” After hearing that, they didn’t like the idea of you going out. You were the weakest of the four back in the day, but with the Mallory, under a memory spell (and in turn making her unsure of herself) the ranks were all over the place. “Don’t wait up for me. Find Coco and stay safe.”

 You scrambled around your room looking for your trusty switchblade you had since before the apocalypse before you dashed out of your room and went scoped out the environment. The candlelit place wasn’t helping your nerves. It made the place feel like a horror film.

 She should have been back by now. You made your way towards the gunshot. Michael’s room. Two figures were leaving. One was Mead, the other wasn’t your girlfriend. Oh, God. What had she done?

 They turned your way and approached. “Do you want me to kill her?” Mead asked. He moved the hand with a gun in it down so nuzzle pointed the ground. He saw you as no harm to them. You were full of empty threats.

 “Ms L/N, the woman I wanted to see,” Michael said. “The last human resident of outpost three. You should be congratulated.”

 “Something tells me that’s not why you wanted to see me.”

 “I’m offering you a spot as my faithful servant, a spot in The Sanctuary in other words.”

 You raised your brow, “What do I get out of it?”

 “Whatever your heart desires,” He responded. You wondered why you? As if he could read your mind he said, “Your abilities would be incredibly useful in the new age. You would be access to some of the greatest minds in history. Nothing could stop us Y/N.” He offered out his hand to take it. You stand there motionless. No intent of moving closer or further. “Take your time, I have all day.” Again, you don’t move. “You might like to take a look in my room before you make your decision.”

 You rushed past them, brushing shoulders with Michael. He was sure that when you saw the state of her, you would beg him to bring her back and in doing so have to join the ‘dark’ side.

 Her body laid in a pool of her own blood. You gasped before dashing to her side. You checked for a pulse. Her skin was growing colder by the second. Please be alive. No beating. You leant down to see if she was breathing. Nothing. This had to be a sick dream. You would wake up in her arms and she would console you. She would pull you into her chest and run her hand through your hair until you fall back to sleep. She would be there when you needed her, and you would do the same for her. You only got her back, she had to be alive. She had to be.

Something was different in the air. Something was stronger. The air has been disrupted.

 How could he ask you to join him after he did this to your beloved?

 You hunched over, curling into her lifeless body. Your tears mixing with her crimson blood. “Baby, wake up,” you sobbed. “I need you. You can’t leave me.” You kiss her body as if your touch could bring her back to you. She just needed to know you were here and she’ll come back, you thought. You wouldn’t give up. Any idea was better than not trying.

 You pushed down on her chest, wincing as you heard a few cracks. You gave her the air from your lungs then went back to pushing down. Repeat. After three tries you stopped. “I’m sorry, I was never good enough for you. You deserved the world and instead, you got me.” You leant down, resting your forehead against hers, shutting your eyes. “I ruined the last few years of your life and I couldn’t even tell you why. You were my everything. I should have treated you better. I hope your happy, wherever you are.” You exhaled.

 A hand touched your face, cupping itself on your cheek. “Babygirl.” Your brain didn’t recognise the touch in your distraught state. Her hands weren’t warm but ice cold, ghostly even. Her thumb wiped away the tears. All you could think about was how she was gone. Her words, her nickname for you, was just her ghost reaching out to you, you were sure of it. That’s the problem with seeing the dead, they haunt you. Maybe it was for the best, it would give you a chance to say goodbye.

 “I’m so sorry, I should of-” You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to see her as she once was, someone (even though it may seem sick) you preferred to see her as how she died. It made the process easier to hate yourself for what you had done to her.

��“Shh~” Her voice cooed. “Baby, can you look at me?” You shook your head. “Please?” You couldn’t say no to her. Slowly you opened your eye. You gasped. She was alive, beneath you, but how? “That’s better.”

 “H-How?” Mina had no clue. You offered to help her up. One hand grabbed her shoulder, the other held her side. You felt her ribs move as you helped her up. Shit, you remembered, you broke her when you tried to give her CPR. “I think I broke a few of your ribs”

 “I can’t feel them, or my back- my back pain is gone.” She went wide eye. An astonished look on her face.

 You share the same look, bubbling with excitement. “That amaz-ing,” a sudden pain shot through your head. A slipping migraine causing you to launch away from your girl and rest the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop the pain. “AAAAAAHHHHHHHH~” you screamed.

“Baby?” looked over worriedly at you.

 Migraines weren’t uncommon during your time at the outpost, but they were never this extreme or sudden. Your brain was like being stabbed by a blunt screwdriver repeatedly.

 “SSSSTTTOOOOOPP~” You hand formed a fist and was drawn away from your forehead only to snap back like a rubber band. Mina caught it before you could unconsciously slam your fist into your head. It wouldn’t silence your mind or stop the pain. “IIIITTTTT HHUUUUURRRRTTTTSSSS~”

 ~~~

 You ended up helping in the end. Some god must have planned it out because you had made it all too easy to for The Cooperative to find you. In the final two years, you gave it you're all in acting, using your magic only helped you so far. You convinced yourself in order to succeed, you needed to forget. Forget the witches, forget the old life, forget it all. Your last magic-related task, using your limited memory of your botany classes, you mixed up a fine powered to help you forget. 

 The hotel was cold next morning. You were tripping heavily but you never felt better. You didn’t know your name or where you were. You didn’t care. Life was blissful. The worry set in a couple weeks later reflects around you rejigged your memories. Some bitchy blonde came to your hotel room, complaining about how you were stupid and the supreme had sent her to get you. Supreme? You think you ordered a supreme pizza, was she the pizza lady?

 “You’re too pretty to be the pizza lady.”

 “What? Were you listening to me? Cor-”

 “I don’t care what Cornelius wants unless it’s my pizza, then he can’t have it.”

 “Who the fuck is Cornelius?”

 “I don’t know, you’re the one talking about him.” You said to the younger woman. “And tell Samantha she can’t get with me. This pussy ain’t free real estate.” You shake your fist to the ceiling

 “I was sent here to pick up an alcoholic, you're somehow more annoying drunk or maybe it’s because I’m sober”

 “I know you can hear me, whore,” you said this as the ‘pizza lady’ spoke. “I’m high, not drunk- Wait, shit, are you with the cops?”

 “Why couldn’t she have sent Myrtle?” the woman whined.

 “Snow.”

 “YES! THANK GOD- What are you doing?” 

 You were beside the window, pointing and laughing. 

 “It's snowing!” You were giddy at the sight of white flakes falling from the sky. The biggest smile on your face. The other woman had never seen you so happy, you weren’t aware that she knew you. You had almost forgotten she was there.

 “We need you to do a seance,” the woman said to you. 

 “I don’t like salad.” The woman inhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. You were testing her patience. “But if it comes with the pizza, I don’t mind.”

 “Seance, we want to talk to the dead.”

 “Bread sounds good too, oh~ I get it now, your room service.”

 The woman grumbled something about not wanting to have to pick you up as she pulled out her phone and dialled a number. 

 “Madison?” The voice said through the speaker. You eyed the little box in this ‘Madison’s hands’.

 “I found her, but she’s doped up on drugs.” There was mumbling in the background. 

 “y/n,” the voice through the speaker said. The voice, a woman, explained what Madison was trying to. She took her time, knowing you were under the influence of something.

 “Need me to talk to the dead? Get somebody else! Maybe that craigslist medium that was too much of bitch to love me! Uh~ the sex was great though. I think she’s famous now. Maybe if I sleep with her again, I’ll might make the tabloids.”

 “She’s bad shit crazy,” Madison said.

 You groaned, rubbing your head. “Fuck, I didn’t take enough.” You walked over to your coffee table covered in bits and bobs. Madison followed you asking what you didn’t have enough of. She noticed some of the items could be used for a spell. You pulled out a zip lock bag with a greenish-brown powder. You sprinkled it into your cup of red wine. “What’s in the bag?” she asked.

 “None of your concern Madison,” You went to take a sip when you caught sight of her shocked expression. Her lips remained on the glass. “What?” You put your glass down on the table. “Wait, how did you find me?”

 “Madison, you still there?” Cordelia’s voice from the phone’s speaker.

 “Cordelia?” You said confused. You were in a hotel, your hotel room. Wait, why were you in a hotel room? You looked back at your drink. Red, a colour that seemed to follow wherever you went. You picked up the glass, swirling it around mixing the powder further into the drink.

 “You remember?”

 “Hmm~” You weren’t happy about it.

 “We found a book that we think would help with what Cordelia wanted you-”

 “I don’t care what she wanted me to do,” You said standing up and getting into her face. You leaned over her. You took a small sip of your drink before heading to the window, gazing down onto the city below. “If she’s really powerful enough, she can do it herself.” Another sip. “I was happy before I met you all. You all wanted my story, well here it is, so listen up bitches.” You gave a summary of your life, speaking loud enough so the phone could pick up your voice. Every so often taking a sip of your drink. “I never should have joined you. You’re going to leave me and let the bombs do their jobs.” You chugged the rest of your spiked drink. “I always hated the colour red. Reminds me of all the worst things; blood, danger, love. Purple was always my favourite, especially lilac. Only one thing has matched the colours so well and now it’s gone from me.” Your tone grew angrier by the second. “Soon, I won’t remember who you are, or who I am and you sure as hell better get out before then or you won’t have to wait for the apocalypse because I will bring it to you.”

 ~~~

“NOOOOOOO~ I DON’T WANT TO REMEMBER!” So much blood and carnage. Everything was stained in a coat of crimson red. So many people you couldn’t save, so many women and men killed by that man- if you could even call him that.

 You weren’t alone anymore but surrounded by the souls of many.

 Were you in your own body? You felt air-light among them. Your body was hunched in the same pain-stricken position you were moments before. An out-of-body experience, that’s it.

 “Y/N,” a voice called for your attention. Your head darted in the direction of a woman. A friend? Mallory. Alongside her was Coco, the two weren’t dressed in the Victorian clothes you expected them to be in, it resembled the ones they wore in your dreams. Behind them was a crowd of men in school uniforms, sounding you in a circle. Other familiar faced were there too, all the fallen residents were there, lost in the crowd.

 The woman grew closer, getting down to your level to speak to you.

 “You’re dead?” You asked her, briefly looking over to Coco. You half expected a snarky comment from her to confirm your suspicion.

 “We need you to stop Michael.”

 “Already planned on that.”

 “You won’t be able to do that if you don’t allow yourself to remember-”

 “Who says that, because you saw what I did earlier.”

 “That wasn’t me persa-”

 “Cordelia put us under an identity spell,” Coco looked over to Mallory. “What? We might as well tell her now,” she whined.

 “Was I?”

 They shrugged. They informed you that their bodies where dead and that you would have to revive them in order to stop Langdon. Once awake they would continue to live as their false identities until the spell was lifted. You asked how that had anything to do with you allowing yourself to relive the forgotten years. It had everything to do with it. All of you had to be at your apex and you couldn’t do that if you’re where holding yourself back. Emotions control your powers and though a highly emotional people tend to be reckless, their power can is at their best if controlled well enough. They believed in you. That was a dangerous thing.

 The stinging came back in slow bursts. Your body weighed down. Deep breath in and out.

 Maybe you should stop fighting against it.

 In and out.

 This was it.

 The end of days.

 In the final hour, who will fall?

 You had to lose the fight to with the war. Your blurred vision steadied on a cane long forgotten by its owner. Your arms restrained by a tight grip. They loosen as you seem to intense and less hostile. The power you sensed before; you knew what it was for sure now.

 That man was going to pay for what he has done.

 “They’re here,” you muttered as you stood up, wobbling due to being lightheaded. You found Venable’s cane and hand it to her. Helping her up.

 “Who? Michael?” She bombarded you with questions which you left unanswered.

 You were sure of yourself. Something you hadn't been in years. The merge of your forgotten self and the time since then elevated your knowledge of magic. You thanked yourself for your introvert bookworm traits through the past year and a half.

 You used a power you developed late into your stay at the shack. You counted the living presences you sensed. One… Two. You knew who they belonged to. You sensed a third soon after, Michael.

 "Wilhemina, odd question but is Ms Mead alive?" You saw her walk out of the room with Michael, but she was also in hell. She couldn't do both -unless she was killed and brought back. He was capable of resurrection.

 "That's a difficult question. If you mean like how we are no, she's a robot."

 "No spirit then, good to know," You muttered to yourself. “We need to find Coco and Mallory,”

 “Why? What reason would you need those two?”

 Four... five. The other two must have found them.

 Six? Someone different to the others, no power about them. They recked of death but were hanging on.

 “Are there still guards scoping outside the place?”

 “No, they’re dead.” You turned to her and pulled a face, a mix between confused by her actions and disgusted. “What?”

 “Nothing.”

  Seven…Eight...nine. Everyone’s arrived. Ten? Who was that? Stevens. The number increased but dropped soon after. What was going on?

 You left the room heading the same way as Michael and Mead went. Venable followed behind keeping a good pace. You both heard voices on your way to wherever everyone else was. Mina asked who the other voices were. You remained quiet. You reached the stairs main stairs when you saw Michael plummeted to the ground. Mead’s robotic body laid on the ground, her head was nowhere to be seen. You stepped over the body and watched the chaos. 

 “Who the hell are these people?” Mina asked you. She stood beside you to your right.

 “Witches,” You responded. There was one person you didn't know but from the looks of it she was on your side.

 “There you are Y/N, we weren’t sure if you were going to show up.” Last time you made it clear you wanted no part of any of this, how far you had come. You'd given yourself away for the cause. Crap, you had forgotten about that. You prayed Mallory hadn't told the others yet.

 “We worried when we couldn’t find you,” Zoe said.

 “You know these people?” Venable asked.

 Michael looked up at the women on the stairs. “H-How? I killed-”

 “YOU KILLED MY FIANCE? I WILL DESTROY YOU!” You went to dismember the man, but someone held you back. You looked at her questioning what she was doing when she gestured to the blonde with mead’s handgun, Madison. She was telling you that they could take care of it. She didn’t want you getting hurt in a fit of rage.

  “We need to find a tub,” Cordelia said looking between the residents of outpost 3.

 “Mina, where’s the closest bathroom with a bath?”

 “The grey’s communal one in the west wing.” The one near the swirly stairs.

 “Follow us!” you waved them to follow you, then dashed in that direction.

 Mallory and Cordelia ended up leading the way as Mallory knew the way. You stuck by Mina’s side as you all ran. Coco was beside you trying to keep up in her over the top Victorian attire.

“It’s good to see you happy even if it’s the end of the end,” Coco said. 

 “Thanks Coco, it’s good that you’re not like Madison anymore.”

 “It was a living hell. How can someone be that mean?” her eyes fell to Venable’s. “Uh~”

 “Keep your eye’s forward Ms Vanderbilt,” Venable commanded.

 “Still scary.” You chucked at her response.

 You heard screams from ahead. Oh no, what happened? Something ignited and fell over the railing. Ten. Someone’s gone. Nine. The mystery being was gone.

 “What happened?” Coco asked.

 You looked over the oldest witches. You saw the blood seeping out from her head. No. OH GOD.

 You became woozy at the sight. The chuckles and screams of girls filled your ears. Your sight goes warped. Eight. Bodies everywhere. How did she think this would make things easier?

“Come on, stay with me Mallory,” Cordelia said in-between trying to save her with Vitalum Vitalis. She couldn’t do it; her powers had dwindled for too long. No one else could do it, Madison and Zoe (Queenie was going to stay too, but it was insisted that she should go with them in case he got past them. Her powers could come into better play than theirs) had stayed down to stop Michael. Everyone else couldn’t except-

“Y/N.” Michael said he had killed your fiancée which means someone had to bring her back. You were the only one around. You were pale white. “Y/N?”

"Hmm~ uh- their gone," You slurred out, your eyes couldn't focus on one thing. You were about to warn them you didn't feel good when you fainted.

You felt someone shaking you awake. "Y/N" you moaned, not wanting to be woken up. Venable's voice was guiding you out of your drowsiness.

You roll over your feet falling off something. You help, jolting upright to grab your leg. A wave of dizziness rushes over you but before you could fall back you were caught by your love.

"Mina?"

"Yes, my love?"

Rushing water could be heard from behind you. Coco was trying to fill up the tub for Mallory as Cordelia tried to save the girl.

"Mallory!" Mina hushed you. Your little calling caught the attention of your Supreme. She hadn't noticed you were awake; she was too busy trying to keep the younger witch in her arms alive.

You tried to scramble over to the younger witch, but Mina held you back. With puppy dog eyes and the cutest pout, you could do, you convinced her to move you closer.

You took Mallory from Cordelia, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. You looked at Cordelia unsure if yourself. Mallory was alive, if barely. Leaning down you blew, transferring some of your life essential into her. She gasped, choking on the blood that dripped into her mouth.

"I'm sorry," you apologized to Mallory. Then you turned to the others and did the same. No one knew what you were on about. You had saved Mallory and in turn helped save the world. You turned to Cordelia, "I'm sorry I was never a good student, I was always absorbed in my thoughts. When you needed me, I ran out, something I had come to accustom to doing." You looked at Mina for a second. “I doubted myself and to be honest you, but I thank you for everything you have taught me."

"You were never a bad student," Cordelia said. "You've come a long way from when you joined us. You brought back two of my girls-"

"Yeah~" you dragged the word out. She knew instantly you did something bad. She went to question it, but you kept on apologising but this time to your fiancé.

"Mina, I ditched you to go to a school full of witches. I should have trusted you with that information, but I was scared and naive. I didn't stop thinking about you for a single second I was there-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You deserve to know-"

"She sold her soul."

"WHAT?" Everyone other than Mallory and you said.

"WHY?"

"WE WERE RUNNING OUT OF TIME."

"THAT'S NO REASON TO-"

"DON'T GIVE ME THIS TALK NOW! YOU WANTED YOUR GIRLS, YOU GOT THEM!"

“Y/N-”

You pulled yourself upright, using the tub to steady yourself, “NO! I DON’T CARE ANYMORE. IT’S ALREADY BEEN DONE. DEAL WITH IT.” You didn’t know what a good scolding you would know. You did this for them, not yourself. You think you want to sentence yourself to hell. If they fail, you not only get your soul taken but you break a deal. You couldn’t comprehend the horrors of not completing a deal.

You tried, again and again, to get things right, only to fail every time. You were a runner, not a fighter, this was your chance to fight. Fitting that it will also be the thing that would kill you, you thought. If you took your time, not ran, maybe you could have done it. What a world that would be. Instead, you were the cowardice woman you’d always been.

 Using magic while highly emotional was dangerous- it was exactly what you needed. You were emotional, caught up in the moment. You would have to be in the same state again, it was when your powers were at their strongest. You weren’t needed in the equation anymore.[1] 

You made your way out of the room, pushing away anyone away. You wished Mallory luck knowing she would need it.

Cordelia was shattered by what you’d done- more than the others, she was the one who made you feel like you had to do it. You knew what she was thinking of doing and you couldn't let her. Once you were gone you couldn't stop her, but you postpone it until after you were gone.

You pushed past the two fighting with Michael. Queenie called out your name, confused with what you were doing. Marie Laveau was taken aback when you ordered them to back up. They had knocked Michael to the ground and had been teaming up on the boy. Michael had been knocked to the ground, he spat out some blood as he looked up to you expecting to see the two other women.

“Your offer still up?” You joked as you kicked him under the jaw. Falling back forwards, it took him a second to bounce back having already taken a beating from the other two.

You got into a boxing stance, gesturing him to come hither, “Come on, fight me like a real man.” You were surprised when he threw a punch at you. You swerved away, grabbing him by the collar of his dinner jacket and swung him into the wall.

Queenie cheered you on. You had gained an audience, Coco and Wilhelmina joined in watching. The sound effects they made as you fought him boasted your ego and enraged Langdon more. You were keeping him injured enough so he couldn’t use his magic back. Cordelia and Myrtle would have been helping Mallory into the tub about now if they hadn’t already. You prayed you could stay alive long enough for Mallory to go back. You didn’t want to die.  

You swung him around like he was a ragdoll. People may have thought you had taken fighting lessons when it was really easy to keep and already weak man down.

He was slumped against a wall, wiping the blood from his mouth. You approached the man, towering over his limp body.

“You had the audacity to offer me a spot as your servant when you killed my love. You underestimated me, dickhead,” you slammed him back into the wall to make sure he didn’t make a move. You had an idea, something you picked up in one of the magic books you read passing the countless hours you’d been stuck here. It was dangerous but you had everything you needed. “I won’t kill you, no, that would be back for my soul. Instead, I want to give you a gift.” You stepped back acting show offish as you did it. You pulled out your switchblade, flicking it open. You’d give them a story to tell for centuries. You dug the blade down the centre of your forearm, deeply enough to get some blood gushing out. You did the same to the other then muttered a curse. Your audience wondered what you were up to- as well as your puppet. “In my interview, I told you that you deserve to rot here. I was wrong. You deserve a lot worse and I know just the boys to do it.”

You whistled as loudly as possible. The walls and floors began to shake. Michael should never have come back to the school after what he did. You pointed at the man and yelled, “Boys, come and get him.”

The spirits of all the boys at this school he killed charged at him, pummelling him and beating him to a pulp. That should give the witches enough time to reverse time and kill Michael before all this happened.

Your audience was squashed to the side as the dead students came through. Coco, the one least in shock of what you did, rushed over to you going to drag you back towards the others. She was so excited about what she saw, raving onto you about how cool she thought it was as she guided you back to the other three. They all complimented you, but you couldn’t hear them over the ringing.

In the distance, you saw Papa Legba. You still had a deal to repay. The blood dripping from you kept rushing out, you were losing a lot of blood and fast. Michael wouldn’t last much longer with the ghosts; half your bargain would be repaid. You were the other half. None of them noticed your wooziness. In a spur of the moment, you pulled Wilhemina close to you and made out with her with as much passion you could while slowly slipping away.

With a last moment like that, maybe hell won’t be so bad.

Mallory had done it, she killed Michael. After all the trouble he caused all her sister witches, she managed to kill him by running him over when he was younger. It was underwhelming to say the least. Everything was right in its place. She would go back to the academy and everything would be alright. It was a little two earlier for her, originally, she had joined the school a little later, maybe a year or two. It wasn’t a probably, a head start wouldn’t hurt her. It did make her cautious for the current Supreme Cordelia. She couldn’t blossom too early in case it harms her friend. It was entirely possible that something was changed in the time travel. This isn’t her time; it could have messed with the universe causing disastrous consequences. She didn’t feel any weaker than the moment she did when Cordelia’s power flowed into her. Again, bring into question if this was her world just changed into time or an alternate universe. She guessed it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, what happened did happen because she travelled back in time and he couldn’t have technique died if it never happened. Too much, she can think about it another time, she needed to see- meet her friends and set everything straight.

One problem was solved but there were a couple others. First of all, she needed to stop Queenie from going to the Cortez. It was simple enough, Queenie brought up the show in her presence and she told her the view was bad. She decided to change hotel plans. She learned that Myrtle wasn’t alive in this time (one of the few downsides to saving the world) with no grave threat, Cordelia hadn’t found the need to resurrect the woman.

Another bonus to this timeline, because she killed the anti-Christ’s son, they brought back on of Cordelia’s friends. No one explained who did something good for the spirits to bring her back to them but Cordelia was forever thankful.

 It had been a couple months since Mallory arrived at the school before you turned up. When she originally arrived, you had been there for some time and already had the mystery surrounding you. She was going to stop that before it happened once more.

 It was the middle of the day when there was a knock on the door, Cordelia was the one to answer it as classes had already commenced.

“Hello,”

You were stunned, now that you stood there you didn’t know what to do. “Uh~” You shook your head trying to get your brain to work. “I saw your interview on the tv a couple months back and- um-”

“You think you might be a witch?”

“I hope so or I may have just made the stupidest decision in my life.” She was confused but you brushed it off saying for her not to worry about it. She brought you inside gesturing you to where you could leave your luggage while she interviewed you. “I’m sorry this might be inconvenient, but can I get a glass of water or something before you interview me, my throat’s a bit dry.”

“That’s no problem at all, I can show you around your new home to while at it.”

“New home yeah,” you mumbled not enthused by the thought of this being your new home, but you needed to be here to learn more about yourself. Cordelia could sense your uncomfortableness with all of this but blamed it with unfamiliarity.

The two of you walked past a class in session, you watched as you approached noting the two young witches teaching the class. They stopped teaching when they noticed that the class had focused their attention on the headmistress and you.

You didn’t enjoy being stared at, you lowered your gaze, playing with your engagement ring.

“New girl?”

“Yes, this is- uh~ I never got your name.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

“Doesn’t seem your last name will stay like that for much longer,” Mallory said. “Is that an engagement ring I spot?”

You chuckled awkwardly. This made some of the girls light up, some got out of there chair to see the ring. You shyer away, Cordelia was about to step in when the girls’ excitement decided to make you cave. These girls didn’t even know you and they were excited for you. Mallory slipped next to the Cordelia as they hassled you for more details on your partner, “Come on girl tell us about him.”

“You couldn’t have seen the ring from where you were sitting,” Cordelia said to the girl, not tearing her gaze from you.

“She was playing with it-” She knew Mallory was bluffing. “I can’t explain it to you, but she reminds me of an old friend.”

“No, no it’s a woman,” You said shy of telling them about your preferences- this was a girl only school. Unlike what you thought, the acceptance they showed helped to build your confidence in order to talk about your fiancé. The others loved listening.

“What happened to this friend?” Cordelia asked.

“She ran away from love to learn about herself and regretted it until the end.”

“Of her life?”

“Something like that,” Mallory said.

You made large gestures with your hands as you told the story of how you met. A few students gasped, all on the edge of their sits.

“Okay girls stop harassing Y/N,” Cordelia said. All the girls around you backed up. The smile you wore died down. You went back into your timid persona unsure of what to do. “We took up enough of your class time and I still need to get your paperwork in order.”

“Water?” You reminded Cordelia.

“Yes, this way.” She led you into the kitchen to get your beverage.

The paperwork was long and boring. Being under the school’s care meant they needed to be aware of any health issues you had, allergies and all that personal stuff so they could keep an eye on you if needed, make sure you’re in your best possible health and to ensure they don’t feed you something that could kill you. Besides that, it was standard information, birth date, emergency contact (if you had one), etc.

“Heaven forbid something happened to you; do you have anyone you would like us to contact?” She asked still looking down at your papers. When you didn’t respond she peered up. You shook your head. “What about your fiancé?” You lowered your head, shaking it again slowly. Cordelia settled her pen down. She clasped her hands in front of her before adjusting her chair, so she was closer to her desk and in turn you. “She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?”

“No Ma’am.”

“There’s no need for here formalities Y/N.” She leant forward, tilting her head trying to see your face. “Are you going to tell her?” You paid her the attention she wanted. She went back into her original position. “She’s going to worry.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” You regretted what you said immediately, “I’m sorry. It’s just that she’s- I don’t know, complex? She wouldn’t understand-”

“You’re jumping to conclusions, not even allowing her a chance to understand you.” She had a point. “If you don’t tell her, I will, and it will look a lot worse for you if I do it.”

“You couldn’t do that-”

“I could perform a simple spell and find her in less than five minutes. Or I could do it the old-fashion way and ask for details from the girls you spoke to earlier. I’m guessing you mentioned a name?”

“Yeah.”

“Through the name into google along with some other details and I’m all good.” Maybe she wasn’t bluffing. “So, which will it be?” You didn’t want this woman to do it but how could you speak to her after what you’ve done? You were so convinced that she would reject you or hate your guts that you couldn’t phone her. “I ca-n’t,” you stuttered out, ashamed of yourself.

“Do you want to give me the number or are you going to make this difficult for me?” She asked.

You gave her the number in the end. She asked you to stay during the call, but you couldn’t. You sat outside looking out into the backyard.

“You alright there?” Mallory asked plopping down next to you. You nodded not paying her much mind. Sensing you were not, she offered to distract you for a bit by telling you a story. One of witches and warlocks, where the world came to end, and the survivors had to play it safe or die. You found similarities with one of the characters and another reminded you of your fiancé (funny enough the two were together in the tale). You thanked her for saving your mind.

“You told me the others lived happily after but what happened to the leader and her lover?”

“They-” Mallory was cut off with the entrance of Cordelia who asked if she was interrupting. You both shook your head.

“I spoke to her and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N-” Mallory put her hand on your shoulder causing you too look at her. “Listen to what she has to say.” You squinted at her; did you know her? Nah. You think you would remember her.

“She was irritated at first- mostly because she thought I was lying. She wants to speak to you.”

“I ca-”

“I told her that you refused and after a lot of talking, we booked her tickets to the next flight over.”

“You didn’t- why?”

“Your one of us now, we take care of our own.”

With the world as it should be, the lot of you had no care in the world. The whole ordeal of outpost 3 just a distant memory to Mallory.

When Wilhemina showed up at the academy’s door, there was a lot of sobbing (on your part). You were the one to open the door. Cordelia and Mallory was there for moral support and to make sure you actually went through with it.

 “Y/N/N?”

 The beautiful redhead stood in front of you.

You choked up, “M-Mina.” You pulled her into a hug. She was stiff at first but warmed into the hug. “I-I’m sooo sorry. I’m so stu-pid.” She shushed you. She didn’t make you explain anything until you had calmed down.

It was odd to see the once feared head of outpost three in a different light. The woman, though hesitant at first, warmed up to the new world. Seeing how happy you were when she was around, Cordelia offered the woman a job at the academy helping Cordelia out with all the boring paperwork Cordelia always found herself drowning in. She even upped the pay to make the job more enticing. She never told you that she did that. Everything was behind your back. It was the best surprise you had in years. Wilhelmina remained in the office most of her time, you popped by when you didn’t have any classes (Cordelia may have walked in on you two a couple of times doing unspeakable things. She had to make it a rule no sex in the office).

 Though Wilhemina was bound to her office (or you) most of the time, she did grow close to the residents of Miss Robichaux's. When retelling all the events of the day, she would stop to make sure she knew which girl you were talking about, learning their names through the tales you told. You had to snap at her once or twice to be nice to your peers, especially the younger ones. A few tears were shed but you had a way with helping people feel better.

 The two of you held off on your plans until you were able to get married Louisiana. You held it at the school because the students had turned into both your family and there was no point in having it anywhere else. It was the definition of a fairy-tale wedding.

 Even though everything felt perfect, the devil wasn’t going to give up his plans that easily but this time the witches would be more prepared for the worst.

Thanks for reading :)

[jw231992]

Verónica

So I'm going to preface this text post with a bit of a spoiler warning, as I will be going over the entirety of the movie's plot. Anyway, I first heard of "Verónica" via Facebook article that essentially hyped up the movie. For those of who haven't seen the article, it basically says it's so scary that people had to stop watching about halfway through the movie. So, of course, my friends, Anne and Gene, are pretty excited to see it. It is also mentioned elsewhere that the movie is supposedly based off of a true event that happened in Spain, so that adds to the horror element. Without further ado, let's get into it.

The movie is about a girl named Verónica that decides to play with a Ouija board with her friend Rosa. Rosa invites a girl named Diana to join them in their seance during an eclipse. Now, with a Ouija board, especially in the movies, when you're done and you want to leave, you have to say "good-bye". A cliche in horror movies that involve Ouija boards is that the characters in the movie never say "good-bye" and of course, some spooky shit goes on that ends up killing at least one of the characters. That's exactly what happens, thr Ouija board breaks, and Verónica gets possessed by a demon because why else? Diana runs to get help while Rosa stays with Verónica, who is whispering things, to which is later revealed to be saying "I will die on Saturday" or something along those lines. Verónica is taken to the nurse who passes it off as a possible blood pressure issue and that she should eat red meat for dinner that night. When school ends, Verónica meets her siblings and go to the bar where their mother works. Before going, Verónica makes the children swear not to tell their mother why she went to the nurse's office.

That night, during dinner, Verónica has some issues trying to eat, as she freezes her hand and begins to shake, inching closer to her mouth. When her sister drops a carton of milk on the floor and the milk spills over to her foot, she snaps out of a trance and spits out any food in her mouth, and continues as if nothing happened. When she attempts to fall asleep, she ends up having a nightmare where hands come out of her mattress, keeping her bound while a demon comes and attempts to sacrifice her. She wakes up after the nightmare to find her little brother, Antoñito, standing at the foot of her bed, saying he wet the bed that night. Realizing what time it is, she rushes to get her and her siblings ready for school that day where Rosa seems to be ignoring Verónica and talking more with Diana. Excusing herself to the bathroom, Verónica rushes to the room where the girls had the seance to be startled by a blind nun at the school, whom most students have come to address as Sister Death. She tells Verónica that she knows what she did and that she needs to protect her siblings. After school she confronts Rosa about her absence with her and says her parents are away for the weekend and will throw a party on Saturday. Verónica asks why she wasn't the first to know when Diana butts in and says she's telling you now. Verónica runs off after being treated horribly by her friend and runs back home.

Unsure of what to do, Verónica looks through her various magazines on the occult to see how she can protect her siblings. She sees a symbol the Vikings supposedly used to protect themselves against spirits and demons, and draws it on a piece of paper to protect her sisters and brother. That night, she sees a demon in her sisters' room and she rushes to their room to see a shadowy figure creepily making it's way closer to her sister and choking her. To stay safe from the demon, she wakes them up, and tells them they will sleep in the living room, to which their mom walks in later that night and tells everyone to go back to their respective rooms. It is at this time that Verónica tells her mother that she attempted a seance with her friends to attempt to contact her deceased father. Her mother is obviously upset at this and tells Verónica that she needs to stop with the nonsense and go to sleep. The dream she has this time is her siblings, possessed, biting her wrists, also attempting to sacrifice her. She screams for her mother, who appears in the dream and does nothing to stop the torment. She instead reaches across Verónica's body and squeezes her hand over her lower body and makes it seem like Verónica is having her period.

Verónica wakes up screaming but seems to be fine, other than a couple bit marks on her arms. She looks on the mattress and it looks like she is experiencing her first period, but she flips her mattress to discover that she is not, but her body imprint burned on the underside of the mattress. She does the same to her siblings' mattresses and the same is on theirs. Preparing her siblings to go to their mom's work, she sees her little brother with an open book. She mentions that he cannot read, but he tells her that their dad read the book aloud to him. Verónica instructs him to never listen to whoever is saying they are his dad and to cover his ears and to yell for Verónica should this happen again. After preparing the kids. She drops them off and rushes to school to speak with Sister Death who tells her to right her wrongs. When another sister comes into the room, Verónica tells her that Sister Death was just helping her with a project. Before leaving, Sister Death tells that the books will have the answer she is looking for. Verónica rushes to Rosa's house with a new Ouija board and occult books explaining that they need to redo the seance because they failed to say good-bye during their last seance. Rosa let's Verónica know what she heard in the basement and essentially abandons her, to die on her own. Frightened, she gets the kids from her mom's work and decides to attempt to fix the problem with her sisters. Her sisters help set up the seance while she has her brother draw the symbol from before all along the walls, however the page changes and Antoñito, being illiterate, draws not a symbol of protection, but a symbol of invocation.

The seance seems to work until the door opens and closes on the siblings frightens them. A cup rolls down the hall to her sisters' bedroom where the demon can reach the family. Verónica calls the police to save the family, but then Antoñito is kidnapped and Verónica rushes to save him. She falls on the bathroom floor and is knocked out for about a minute or so. She wakes up to see Antoñito sitting next to the tub; she grabs him and her sisters and they rush out of the building. When they reach the exit, she realizes that she no longer has Antoñito as the demon makes her believe she has him, but does not. She locks her sisters outside as she rushes up to save her brother. She runs back to the bathroom where she sees the demon take Antoñito and their shadows morph to form the actual demon. She runs back to her room to escape it where she finds the real Antoñito in her closet, plugging his ears and calling Verónica's name, just as she had instructed earlier. She realizes that she was the demon the whole time, that she was the one who almost choked her sister, and messed with her brother's bath, and various other incidents. The police find Verónica in a contorted position but still alive. They take Antoñito downstairs to their mother and get her on a gurney; she dies on the way to the hospital.

All of that being said, there are almost no noteworthy scares in this film, although the transitions and cinemaphotography are excellent. Neither me nor my friends felt scared at all, and felt a little overhyped on this movie, and extremely let down. That being said, it currently has a 93% approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes and a 6.5/10 rating on IMBd as of the posting of this. This is just my personal opinion of the film, however and you are free to feel how you will about it. I wouldn't say I am not an avid fan of horror films but I do like horror films, and unfortunately, there are some films that do not live up to their hype, and that's okay.

Feel free to reply with how you currently feel about the movie and if you disagree with my opinion, that's totally fine, however, I ask that you remain civil about it. Can't have people getting into ugly arguments because they can't agree to disagree.

[worstmorty-blog]

( me: i should initiate more contact on this blog   also me: (just keeps rping as my morty on skype with my qpp)

[Under normal circumstances, Rick would consider his brilliant escape from the most rigorous and secure intergalactic prison to be a matter of celebration; perhaps he’d again claim himself to be a God, or the closest thing to a “God” there possibly could be in reality, bearing a mind rivaled by none and abilities to “control” the universe as he pleased. A takedown of the Galactic Federation was incredulously simple, and although the grandfather ought to be rejoicing, he felt an abnormal, metaphorical weight on himself. He was freed, but that freedom didn’t allow him an ounce of joy. Though Rick evidently wasn’t the type to “reflect” on his actions, the isolation and confinement of his few months spent in prison only allowed him the pastime of thought.]

[He’d never admit it, of course, but Jerry’s words were striking – insisting that Rick was a chaotic force in his family’s lives, that he was merely worsening their situation by sticking around. They wouldn’t have a damn thing to concern themselves over now, thanks to the intergalactic method of law enforcement collapsing by his own hand, but that didn’t mean that his return would be “for the best.” He’d ruined the lives of those he’d cared about (though, he could scarcely admit to himself that he truly cared in the first place), and allowing himself any presence in their lives – even if he truly sought to stand by them – might only impair them. In usual fashion, Rick decided it would be for the best to isolate himself, akin to when he’d abandoned his own daughter for twenty years, and entirely for the same reason.]

[In that state of mind, Rick wondered whether eluding and dismantling the governmental stronghold was as clever of a solution as he’d believed; not only might he have caused his family grief (they could’ve ransacked his laboratory in the garage by now, perhaps even forced them to relocate in the process), but he was now so reluctant to rejoin his family that he might as well have stayed. Part of him wondered if he ought to have played coy during his “interrogation,” and allowed them to erase his mind so they could rid the world of him and his vast knowledge. The entire universe would be better without him, as far as he was concerned. Suicide had crossed his mind rather often in the time he’d spent whilst freed; death was preferable to living with the guilt of his inability to save his best friend, of harming his family to an almost abusive degree, of abandoning them all again and leaving them to likely suffer from the same abandonment issues that Beth had.]

[Why had he escaped in the first place? Perhaps it was spite – a vengeful desire to eradicate the Galactic Federation after murdering his closest friend – or perhaps he somehow felt the need to atone, to fix what he’d irreparably broken. Yet, now that he was roaming the universe, the question struck him – what could he fix? Revealing himself to his family would merely do more damage in the long run, especially if he found it inevitable to leave them again, and a simple dimension swap wouldn’t resolve the innumerable issues he’d encountered with his family. Morty would likely prefer his absence to his presence, anyway, and though other Ricks would easily find themselves capable of leaving their immediate family behind, this version of himself couldn’t. He was feeble, frail compared to the others, allowing emotions and care to dominate him; that would be his downfall.]

[Over a year had passed by the time he eventually decided to show his face…or, at the very least, revisit the Smith home, given that he was uncertain whether his family even inhabited it anymore. A dismal sense of defeat dwelled within him as he explored the home, finding it entirely deserted; perhaps it was inevitable to discover that they were missing, that they wanted nothing to do with the grandfather anymore (as evidenced by the various photos of him still scattered throughout the house, most of which displayed empty space where his face formerly lingered). That defeat gradually shifted into a hollow feeling that spread outward from his chest, his heart sinking as any hope of reconciling with his family diminished. Instinctively, he made his way to the final “room” of the house, one with the least likelihood of containing any family of his.]

[Shakily, the grandfather opened the door; the garage wasn’t emptied, but it had been organized, various gadgets of his boxed up as though the family planned to move it with them, or perhaps store it somewhere, only to give up halfway. However, his eyes weren’t drawn to them – instead, his gaze met an eyepatched Morty, lingering in the former laboratory, one he unfortunately recognized thanks to his necessary investigation into an “evil Rick.” He froze momentarily, but not out of trepidation; an unbridled rage brewed within him, influenced by his hopelessness and the possibilities that now raced through his mind once he considered what this Morty might have been up to. His presence couldn’t be mere coincidence. The family’s evacuation from the home, the distorted photographs, the fact that he was ransacking the grandfather’s garage. A worst-case scenario of an assumption presented itself in his mind, one he was incapable of refuting – this Morty had raided his family’s home, and…and…]

[Perhaps even murdered them. The ones he held so dear, obliviated thanks to a selfish, bastardized version of the grandson he’d fucking cherished. His DAUGHTER. His GRANDCHILDREN – his GRANDSON. They…could be DEAD. It might be too fucking late for him to repair any damage he’d done, and his late appearance had likely caused it. One of his hands balled itself into a tightened fist, nails digging viciously into his palm, his grip so intense that it whitened his knuckles; the other hand reached into his coat’s pocket, swiping a laser pistol from within, and hurriedly positioned it in a direct aim at the Morty’s head. The only possibility could be that this motherfucker had murdered his family in cold blood – yet, he hesitated to shoot, even in his infuriated condition. This was a…Morty, a horrific and vicious version of him, but a Morty nonetheless. His likeness to his own grandson was likely what held him back – and he despised himself for his fucking weakness. A guttural growl resounded from him, rather than the fury-induced scream he’d fought to conceal, as he questioned the malevolent bastard.]

What the hell did you DO to them? You – You…you MONSTER! I-I’ll – I… [“I’ll kill you” was his implication – and he had every intent to do so, but his damned feelings prevented him from even voicing the thought.]

How long had it been since Morty had been ‘home’? If he were any other version of himself, the answer would likely be ‘too long’. After all, surely Morty missed his family. Surely he missed the familiarity of the dimension he’d so ruthlessly claimed as his own alongside his merciless grandfather and, of course, the family home. Didn’t he miss the house he’d grown up in? Where he’d learned his first words- lost his first tooth? Where his life had changed forever the second a man from the stars had come crashing on their doorstep, offering Morty things he could only ever dream of?

Yeah right. What a fucking J O K E.

This whole dimension had gone to shit, but this house might be the worst place of them all. In fact, if all went according to plan, this would be the last time Morty would have to set foot in any version this hellhole. And it was a hellhole. It’d always been, of course, but it had only gotten worse over the course of the last year or so. Looking back on it, watching how QUICKLY it had deteriorated without Rick- without a man they’d all been FINE without a few years previously- it was almost funny. They had all been so dependent. And for what? For a man who would abandon them in an instant, should it suit him. For a man who DID abandon them.

And he had abandoned them.

Morty hadn’t always thought so, of course. The second he was informed that his grandfather- no, the man didn’t deserve to be called that anymore. The second Morty had been informed that the high and mighty Rick Sanchez of Earth Dimension C-137 was in the custody of the galactic federation, he’d felt bad for resenting him for what he’d done. He’d turned himself in, after all! All to save the family! Oh, how heroic. And how quickly Morty was to change his mind about that.

He didn’t care about the family’s well being at all. No, he was just a COWARD. It was just easier to turn himself in than to deal with providing for his family- than to deal with the people he’d twisted into small, pathetic co-dependent beings only to get BORED of them the second things took a wrong turn.

No. Rick Sanchez was no hero. Then again, neither was Morty.

In a way, maybe Morty out to be grateful towards the man. After all, it was his abandonment that had allowed the boy to develop into the person he was now. It was all thanks to Rick that he was finally FLOURISHING. But no. Not an inkling of thankfulness was extended towards that bastard. What had once been a childish admiration had long since rotted into a desolate hatred, and once he was done here, he’d never have to think about that bastard ever again.

It was no surprise to find the family home abandoned- RAVAGED. What the federation hadn’t ruined, that miserable family of his had. It was almost poetic, in a way. They had strived so long and hard trying to convince themselves that they were okay without Rick, while Morty was the only one who actively tried to get him back, and the more he tried, the less his family seemed to care. Yet, the second Morty realised his potential- the second he realised that Rick was naught but a relentless famine that had weighed down on their shoulders? That’s when they mourned. And what fools they were for doing so.

A few small “tsk” noises were released as he walked through the remains of the house, laughing at the memorabilia that he’d- that they’d ALL- previously cherished. But that’s not what he was here for. Mementos could rot for all he cared. He was here for something much more valuable. He made his way into the garage, a satisfying “ah” sound escaping his lips. It was pathetic how much the federation had left behind. Of course, that just meant more for him. Not that he particularly cared about Rick’s things.

No, if he were to have any joy with them, it would be in disassembling them- in prying the things the man had worked so long on apart as if they were scrap metal. And to Morty, that’s truly all they were. Parts. Pieces. Nothing here was worth anything. Morty could make things far more brilliant- and had. He wondered, for a moment, how many years it had taken Rick to develop his first portal gun? Even without a reference to work with, Morty had recreated that technology in mere months.

A small “hmm?” was released from his lips, malicious grin spreading across his lips as the door was opened; rather TIMIDLY. Well this was bound to be fun. Who was it? A federation member? One of his kin? Oh, how he’d love to see the terrified face of his father one more time before ENDING the pitiful fool’s life.

His grin dropped only slightly when he recognized the man as a Rick, quickly losing any excitement or thrill he’d found only moments before. Ugh. How TEDIOUS. He’d never killed a Rick before, but he supposed there was a first time for everything, wasn’t there? And he would kill him if it came to that. No one but Morty was getting these leftovers. He deserved them. He’d suffered for them.

A flinch wasn’t given as the gun was held to his head, a single hand coming up in false surrender as another reached for a weapon of his own, hinting to the other that he was in possession of one as he waved it almost playfully behind his back, but not revealing it just yet.

“Oh, what was that? You’ll what? P L E A S E, Rick, speak up, won’t you?” He gave a rather dramatic roll of his eyes, smile widening into one a bit more malice. Maybe this would be fun. He didn’t know which dimension this asshole was from, but he was clearly INTIMIDATED by Morty’s presence, and that in itself was DELECTABLE. “Stuttering like that makes you sound an awful lot like this sad little boy I once knew. But you know what happened to him, don’t you? I k i l l e d him. And unlike a certain someone, I can say that word without choking up.”

[Rick recognized the identity of this Morty; or, at least, he knew who he associated with that damned eyepatch. His fellow Ricks, dumbshits involved with the council whom had spitefully informed him of the investigation’s results, noted that the version of Rick they’d hunted down was being controlled remotely. At the time, the grandfather had his suspicions – that Rick’s behavior was irrefutably Morty-esque and immature, not to mention that a majority of his ramblings involved how not a single Rick genuinely cared about their sidekick and grandson – but this encounter essentially confirmed it. The murderer still roaming the galaxy, traversing multiple realities without a hint of remorse, still intent on acting upon the grudge he held against the man whom had revealed it to him. His trigger finger trembled, entirely tempted to end this confrontation, though he knew fully well that he wouldn’t.]

[The evil “Rick” did have a point, after all; with the endless list of injustices inflicted upon most Ricks in their individual timelines, none of them could entrust themselves with attachment, with caring about human beings who were ultimately replaceable. Attachment was equivalent to vulnerability, and allowing themselves to care would merely result in their paranoia being justified. When Bird Person had ruthlessly been murdered by an agent of the Galactic Federation, Rick had sworn never to trust anyone ever again – and yet, even that breaking point of his had its restrictions. No matter what, he found himself incapable of disregarding his family, although he ought to view them as entirely expendable; granted, he’d abandoned one of his countless daughters in a timeline overrun by mutants, but perhaps his trust merely extended to his sidekick. Morty, the grandson he’d gradually grown fond of over the years, despite each inherent aspect of his deeply-seeded mistrust and avoidance refuting those feelings. Why else would he have only included Morty when he swapped dimensions? Why else would he find himself teary-eyed at the thought of losing him?]

[…Losing him…ironically, in his callous attempt to evade his family in order to “protect” them, he might have lost them at the hands of an alternate version of his grandson. One whom had evidently endured enough, and grown so sick of it that he’d retaliated with bloodshed and the torture of his fellow Morties. A grimace contorted the grandfather’s features, desperately wishing that he could be a decent enough human being to avenge his own goddamn family, but part of him wouldn’t…feel justified in doing so, not when it meant ending the life of his grandson. Another version of him, one which felt no mercy, no remorse, but a version of him nonetheless.]

[Rick hadn’t seen his own grandchild’s face in over a year; the face of his partner in crime, whom he cherished enough to sacrifice himself or others for. He could have ignored the tears his grandson had shed after exiting the bathroom of that tavern, or refused to attain vengeance by shooting the bastard that assaulted him; he could have left Morty behind in the “Cronenberg” dimension; he could very well have left Morty stranded in a void of a shattered reality with cats that were and weren’t Schrodinger’s; there were numerous opportunities for him to abandon the child, but he’d stuck around no matter the tension in their relationship. Perhaps he couldn’t accept that the one goddamn person he’d cherished so dearly that he would sacrifice everything for them had been killed – perhaps he couldn’t differentiate this Morty from his own, despite the evident differences in their attitudes. His grandson was an insecure piece of shit; this Morty was an arrogant, ruthless killer.]

[Perhaps he wanted to sustain a conversation with anyone resembling his grandchild, even if it resulted in his death – it wasn’t as though an event in this confrontation would result in him attaining the guts to pull the trigger.] [Weary eyes squinted slightly upon noticing the object that the Morty was dangling around behind him, managing to hide the object, yet provide a threat nonetheless. Of course, at this point, Rick didn’t give a damn about whatever harm came to him – he wanted fucking answers, closure, even if he learned that the family he’d desired to revisit and reconcile with was no longer around, but he didn’t care if he earned a death in the process. He was inching closer to death with every passing second – he had methods of preventing it, but the more he stuck around, the less he was willing to lengthen his lifespan, especially with the newly presented possibility that his family was dead.]

[Jesus. He’d endured plenty of death in his lifetime, both at his hands and the hands of others – he’d once committed mass genocide on a planetary scale, for that matter – but none of it affected him nearly as much as this single possibility. He’d never experienced the immense horror and despondence that accompanied witnessing his best friend DIE because he couldn’t prevent it; he’d never felt the overpowering despair that accompanied the possibility that his family was gone, thanks to him avoiding them for such an extended period.]

[His spare hand gradually raised itself to grip the gun, as though attaching both of them to his current weapon would amplify the threat, gritting his teeth at the Morty’s smug attitude. He realized that he currently held the upper hand, even remarking upon the grandfather’s evident dismay and how closely it resembled…]

[…His grandson’s. Not this bastard’s, but the grandson that this – this monster had proudly claimed to have killed. Every ounce of his being urged him to pull the damned trigger. Learning that his Morty was deceased instilled him with unparalleled exasperation, and yet he couldn’t lash out at another version of him. It was fucking PATHETIC. He truly was frail for being unable to set aside his affection.]

I’ll KILL you! [Although they were shouted, the words held no meaning; they were utterly useless, a fruitless attempt to intimidate him. He followed with demeaning statements, most of which merely spoken to express his fervent rage in the absence of his ability to react violently.] Y-You hear me!? If you laid a fucking finger on them, I’ll end your worthless fucking existence! No universe would miss a Morty like you – a goddamn bastard child who rebelled by killing everything around him!

Oh, yes. He’d been right to begin with. This WAS going to be fun! The pitiful man in front of him was no Rick; he was nothing but a shadow of the man he once was. He was showing every weakness in the book- making every mistake that people like him never did. Every mistake that his kind would surely OUTCAST him for. And yet he continued to threaten Morty? Surely, he must see how futile that was. He knew Ricks were a bit stubborn in accepting that their grandsons could pose any sort of threat to them, of course, but this was a bit much, even for a Rick.

His malicious grin only widened when a second hand was brought up to the man’s gun, as if that would aid him in pulling the trigger when it should be painfully obvious to Rick that such an event wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Honestly, his inability here was pretty pathetic, not to mention the ATROCIOUS acting. Was he honestly acting as if he cared what became of the family here? It wasn’t as if it was his family. When had ANY Rick EVER cared about people that were so easily replaceable, anyhow? No, Morty could assume that the ANGUISH presented was for his sake- a last effort for a Rick to manipulate a Morty into doing his bidding, but he wasn’t going to fall for that. How could he? He was better now, and better than this sad man before him, too.

Yet, the look in the man’s eyes intrigued him, as a child might be intrigued watching a fish flail helplessly around on the land, knowing that it would die within minutes, but far too excited to see something new to care about the death of such a lowly creature. He wanted to know MORE- wanted to know why this man was so hesitant to pull the trigger and why he cared so much about anything in this dimension. There were an infinite number of dimensions he could find spare family members in, but he’d picked this one and was so DISTRAUGHT when things didn’t turn out his way.

A small chuckle was released at the man’s last statements. Perhaps he was giving the guy too much credit. Perhaps he was a weaker breed of Rick- one that truly did care. Well, one that lied to himself that he did, anyway. How TRAGIC.

“You think I ruined this family? *Me*?” He paused for a moment, allowing himself to openly laugh with his entire body for several solid seconds, cutting himself off with an obnoxious sort of snorting sound that only someone who was genuinely amused could make. He shrugged and shook his head, holding out both arms which revealed a rather advanced looking laser pistol that he’d been holding behind his back, but he simply set it aside on his Rick’s old, dusted work table before he closed the distance between him and his latest playmate, standing close enough for him to feel the point of Rick’s weapon against his forehead.

“_Jeez, G R A M P A, you really are a dumb one. You think a Morty could do something like this? We’re useless, remember? SHIELDS and CANNON FODDER for almighty GENIUSES like you. No, Rick. If you’re looking for someone to blame, try looking in a mirror. The Rick from this dimension? He’s gone._” The cat-like grin from his face faltered ever so slightly, obvious anger flittering in his expression, but he continued smiling nevertheless. “He abandoned them, Rick. Threw them to the side the second they stopped catering to his every need all under a pitiful guise of self sacrifice. So if you’re looking for a new REPLACEMENT FAMILY, you’re about a year and a half too late. I’m all that’s left of this family now.” A small hint to the fate of Rick’s ‘family’ in this dimension; a subtle clue to how Morty had become the way he had, but nothing too obvious. After all, giving him the answers he wanted on a silver platter was no fun at all. Morty wanted to see him BEG for them. He wanted him to suffer the way he had for years.

Truthfully, Morty didn’t know if his parents or sister were alive or not, nor did he care anymore. But if Rick thought Morty had murdered his entire family, well, that would just help instill FEAR in the man; help him cower in the boy’s presence like he ought to.

[This Morty’s amused reaction, followed by his relinquishment of his hidden weapon, did naught to quell the fury within him; eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t lower his own pistol, even if it was acting as a pointless accessory at this point. Setting it aside now would merely prove his own fragility, provide a shred of evidence that he cared – besides, it was likely that this version of his grandson had certain tricks up his sleeve. Even without the pistol he’d been playfully waving around behind his back, he’d likely be equipped with a variety of other armaments that he wouldn’t hesitate to utilize. Better to pretend that he had some sort of “upper hand” here, even if he truly didn’t.]

[His following words struck a chord within the grandfather; particularly, hearing “grampa” once more, mockingly, from a version of his grandchild that might have massacred all he cared about on this godforsaken planet – in this godforsaken universe. The eyepatched Morty proceeded to insist upon the misconceptions he’d formed regarding the “ideals” of other Ricks – how they considered their own grandsons as nothing but tools, even developing a form of “insurance” should they lose or kill their universe’s Morty – and although such might apply to alternate versions of himself, particularly those who had attained membership with the Council of Ricks, it didn’t ring true for this version of himself. Rick berated himself for his attitude frequently, even considered his irrational attachment to his own grandchild – his family – as “toxic” and “unhealthy,” but the feelings remained with him nevertheless, making this encounter that much more infuriating.]

[Finally, the killer spoke up about the supposed “fate” of this dimension’s Rick; under different circumstances, he’d regard Morty’s ignorance here humorous, but it did force him to wonder – if this version of his grandson was clever enough to support himself in traversing the multiverse, how was it that he was clueless that the Rick standing before him and aiming a trembling pistol at his head was the one from this dimension? Beyond that, there was a tinge of personal resentment in the way his grin faltered, brief as it was. It was as though this Morty wasn’t recalling the fate of an alternate grandfather, but rather, the one he himself had grown up with. Of course, that was mere speculation…but it uneased him regardless.]

[This dimension’s Rick had “abandoned” them under a guise of self-sacrifice? He might have…drifted through the galaxy for months before he dared to return, but it wasn’t spent without intent to do so. Hell, his very reason for crumbling the Galactic Federation was so that he’d be able to rejoin his family without concerning himself or them over being apprehended – yet, his only reason for preventing himself from doing so was out of dread that his presence would further ravage the family’s state. He, in essence, was a pernicious force in his family’s life…and that wouldn’t change, even if he sought to better himself.]

[Then – those final words, “I’m all that’s left of this family,” caused Rick’s animosity to waver – the shaky pistol in his hand lowered, eyes staring in disbelief at the Morty before him, wondering if it was possible for his own Morty to exist right before him. However, this examination of his grandson ceased rather quickly, the pistol now forced up against the child’s head as he internally convinced himself that the little bastard was utilizing manipulation now…even if he didn’t even recognize that this Rick was from this dimension.]

YOU’RE all that’s left of this family? D-Don’t give me that shit. I know who you are -- what you are – and you’re not from this dimension. If you were, don’t you think you’d recognize your own damned grandfather? [His expression twitched, aggression instantaneously replaced by dejection, and just as quickly returning to indignation.] I didn’t abandon them. For fuck’s sake, I – I escaped an intergalactic prison to see them again, I wiped out the Federation, a-and I came back to this shit! I wasn’t looking for a REPLACEMENT family. I was looking for MY family. A-And you…you killed them, d-didn’t you!?

Are you really trying to trick me into thinking that YOU’RE my Morty? I’m not nearly as dumb as he is – …was. I’m…not falling for that bullshit.

It was so satisfying to see him falter the way he did- to see any version of the man that had RUINED his life crumple before him. Morty had never really been one for revenge, per se, killing when necessary and when given the chance but not going out of his way to track down and exterminate anyone who had ever wronged him. That would be stupid, after all; a sure way to get caught and KILLED like the previous owner of his eyepatch had. No, if Morty was to take revenge at all, he was clever about it. And he’d W A I T for it as long as he had to. After all, this confrontation was much more satisfying than if he’d hunted down Ricks as his predecessor had.

He knew he would enjoy coming back here, in some sick, twisted way. He HATED this place, of course, but seeing the ruins of the sad, broken life he’d left behind was charming in its own way. It was a reminder of how much he’d changed; how much he’d GROWN. He DESPISED the boy he used to be, hated him with a passion that burned much deeper and brighter than his hatred towards Rick ever could, but reminders of that kid’s DEATH were fantastic- exhilarating.

But he was having more fun in this hovel than he ever could have imagined. Planned revenge was NOTHING compared to the JOY this brought him. He didn’t know what was wrong with this man- what defective dimension he’d crawled out of- but Morty was loving every minute of this interaction. Ironic, really, when you considered how much he hated the old crone. But the company of an enemy was ALWAYS exciting when they acted as pathetically as he was.

The shock- the fear- the DISBELIEF in his expression when Morty announced who he was; it was precious. A small, condescending “aw” escaped his lips, head tilting to the side in mock sympathy as he lowered the gun. Well. That was almost TOO easy. A step backwards was taken, but certainly not out of fear. No, he just wanted to remain eye contact with his prey as he retrieved his weapon- wanted to cherish every pathetic emotion on his features until he breathed his last breath. Because this? Oh, he didn’t want to miss even a MOMENT of t h i s.

Steady hands that were in an obvious contrast to the man’s shaky grip grabbed his pistol, giving a small shrug as he began to raise it in his direction only to freeze once he heard the phrase “your own damned grandfather” escape his lips. His gaze, full of a confident seething HATRED wobbled, brown eyes widening in astonishment- in HORROR- at his words.

“Gr- R... Rick?” His voice came out small and scared. In the moment, it was as if he was still that pathetic little boy, mourning the loss of his grandfather and wishing- PLEADING- that he would come home to them so he didn’t have to live another day without him- his best and only friend. A trembling gaze traced the man’s features. Most Morties might not be able to tell the small differences between Ricks, but Morty had always EXCELLED at that. He made a note of every little feature. They lined up PERFECTLY with those of his own grandfather, but...

He wasn’t... He couldn’t be...

Another step backwards was taken, void of the confidence he’d had only moments before. One hand held his weapon which had lowered itself helplessly to the ground as his other gripped the work table behind him with enough intensity for his knuckle to go white.

“No. Sh-Shut up.” He internally chastised himself for allowing that dreadful STUTTER to come back after working so long and hard to eliminate it from his vocal patterns. His gaze hardened as his body shook with an overwhelming anger, stronger and much more unstable- much more FEEBLE- than his usual seething hatred.

“You’re not. Him.”

[That patronizing “aw” arising from the alternate version of his grandson merely provoked Rick further; he ought to have recognized that such a pathetic fabrication, the insinuation that he was a member of his family, was a simple attempt at forcing him to lower his guard. All he could really do as the child reached for his pistol calmly, the weapon entirely still in his tightened grip (as opposed to quivering in the grandfather’s), was stare with the knowledge that his demise was likely imminent. Frankly, if he did manage to “go out” this way, he couldn’t say that he’d regret it – fuck, wasn’t this the result he had desired throughout his self-imposed exile? He’d always assumed that his death would be at his own hands. If it was at those of his grandson’s instead…even if it was an alternate, bloodthirsty version of him, he might even feel a bit more justified.]

[Answers were what he’d sought, and at this point, he’d obtained them. Dying like the pathetic, emotion-driven version of himself he was might be entirely fitting here. Rather than exhibiting any sort of recalcitrance, or shooting the bastard in an act of self-preservation, an exhausted expression replaced any form of duress on his feature. Perhaps his acceptance of his fate would come across as disappointing to the miniature sociopath, but that wouldn’t matter in the long run, not if his fate was as irrevocably short as it currently seemed.]

[However, the threat to his existence was short-lived; the pistol had been lifted and aimed precisely, but after hearing the grandfather claim to be of this dimension, the Morty froze. The seething, confident, unbridled rage shifted to appalled astonishment once the words sunk in, and momentarily, his demeanor even resembled his own Morty’s.]

[As dismaying as the sight was, the grandfather did little to express his own concern upon witnessing such a significant fracture in the child’s act. Even when Morty faltered, when he comprehended the “gr” preceding the utterance of Rick’s name as an unfinished “grampa,” he refuted every urge to reach out, every temptation to perhaps accept the Morty’s story – if only to somehow connect to someone claiming to be his own grandson again. However, he recognized that it’d be wiser to reject the likely bullshit that this Morty was spewing. There was no ascertaining whether this was an act, and it was better to “be safe than sorry” – to deny any possibility that the child before him was a version of his own grandchild, adversely affected by the grandfather’s absence.]

[Granted, perhaps a portion of his defiance toward a possible truth was because he couldn’t bear the thought that his disappearance would have affected his own grandchild in such a manner. Hell, he had assumed that this was the perpetrator of the Rick murders that they’d been inadvertently forced to solve – this version of his grandson didn’t strike him as anything but a ruthless killer. Beyond that, the child proclaimed that his Rick had entirely abandoned them – when such evidently hadn’t been the case. In the year that had passed, had he deluded himself to the point of convincing himself that the grandfather had no motive to protect them? That his self-induced imprisonment was merely for self-gain?]

[It felt impossible that a child this distorted could be his own grandson, from their reality. It…didn’t feel real, and yet it was…unfortunately plausible.]

[As Morty stepped back, entirely dismissive of the grandfather’s claims as he lowered his weapon and gripped the workbench behind him, Rick offered a dejected and frustrated sigh. It’d provide a significant disadvantage, not to mention rid him of any potential self-defense, but he tucked his own pistol back into his pocket. It was better than clinging to some false shred of hope that he’d somehow bring himself to resort to violence against a Morty – one that claimed to be his own grandson, even if the grandfather had ultimately decided against the accuracy of such an assertion.]

Yeah? And how would you know? [His tone was substantially more condescending than previously, as though he was regaining the confidence that he’d lost the moment he’d begun facing off with a Morty who would easily murder him without a second thought. Rick was satiated with the response he’d received toward the condition of his family; it was more faithful than any other nonsense this Morty had spouted, even if it resulted in naught but the grandfather’s aggravation and contempt placed both upon himself and this Morty. He had his answers, so it didn’t matter whether he retaliated here – in all likelihood, no matter what he ultimately decided upon with regard to this confrontation, he would die. It was simply a matter of whether it was at this Morty’s hand or his own. Nothing here would matter.]

Seems more like you don’t know jack-shit about this reality. I didn’t abandon shit, and if you really were part of the family I left behind, you’d recognize that, right? I’m no idiot. You can act like you’re my grandkid all you want, but I’m not gonna – gonna fall for the manipulation you’re going for here.

[Crossing his arms with his usual mien of arrogance, he continued, one of his hands briefly lifting themselves to gesture for the Morty to come toward him and attack if he could bring himself to.]

Hey, you took every other goddamn thing from me, from my gadgets to my FAMILY. You wanna finish the job and kill me, go ahead. You’re obviously not my Morty, and I’ve got nothing left without him. Prove how “independent” you are and pull the trigger, asshole, if you’ve got the guts.