Hello all! I have been playing ttrpgs for around 4, almost 5 years now and despite being in many different diverse groups I've never had any horror stories to share. Now, I have at least one minor one.
People involved are myself(female, because it unfortunately matters), DM, Rogue, Ranger, Fighter, Bard and Witch. This is a Pathfinder 2nd Edition game.
Most of my experience has been with 5e, and I hadn't really touched any other system. So, when everything went south with Wizards of the Coast and the OGL and Pinkertons, I decided to branch out and try other systems. That is when I managed to find a group for Pathfinder! I was excited to learn the system, so as soon as I was in, I started reading the core rulebook and listening to videos on the rules of the game.
The initial party consisted of everyone but Witch(she would join later). DM proclaims he has about 3 years experience running 5e games, but is new to Pathfinder himself. No big deal, it seems all of us are new, with Rogue and Ranger being brand new to ttrpgs. We'll learn the system together. Things start off somewhat okay, with a skirmish between two sides, with players split between the two factions. Combat is very basic and everything dies in a single hit, without really attacking us directly. We do discover that Bard's character is... Well, the best way to describe him was a flamboyant gay elf, using a stereotypical gay voice and cadence, who ran from the battle at the first sign of trouble. That was... Off-putting, but it was whatever.
We cleared the encounter, and one side clearly won. My character was actually knocked unconscious, but was picked up and carried by another player of the opposing faction, Fighter. We then all eventually stumbled across a large dragon man, basically a Dragonborn, who breathed lightning, and had a huge axe and plate armor. When we fought him, all at lvl 1, still worn out from the last battle. Almost no one could hit his AC, and he nearly downed half the party before we managed to win. I later found out that the DM just used a level 3 player stat block for this guy, and buffed his HP, which I know in 5e, at least, is a bad idea.
After this, the DM had a shady NPC show up out of nowhere and invite us to come along with him. This was the first sign that the DM wasn't very good at roleplaying, or at least doing so in a convincing way. But, this was the plot hook, so we all went with it. The DM then showed off their inexperience again when we were offered a mission from this NPC, and Rogue asked some pretty softball questions about why we'd want to work with them. As an aside, rogue's backstory involved working with criminals, and these guys were like rebels against the empire who invaded the city.
Either way, we had to go to an auction house to buy a magical item. We were given 50 gold to buy the item, and this was where the DM displayed their inability to describe rooms to us. The description was very bland, and didn't paint much of a picture for us. He also didn't really do many voices, so it was difficult to tell if an NPC was talking, or if it was the DM out of character. Regardless, we found the item we needed, placed bids and got into a bidding war with a noble. For whatever reason, this makes the bard decide to set off a... Distraction, by trying to cast a spell on the noble to charm them, to which they roll a 37 to resist. We are level 2, by the way. This leads to bard's backup plan.
Bard lights and shoots off fireworks in the auction house, causing the entire roof to cave in and severely injure most of us. Rogue did manage to snatch the item, and slip away along with Ranger. Bard ran down the street escaping the guards, and myself and fighter just stood around in disbelief, because up until that point, we had all blended in without issue. There was no reason for such a huge commotion. We stayed and the noble spoke to us, but we talked our way out of it, Fighter being the type from a military/mercenary background, and myself being a local farm girl.
Eventually, we all met up, and in between sessions, the entire group agrees to kick Bard for playing a blatant caricature and being chaotic stupid. He also talked over and interrupted people a lot, and really tried to push his luck with every ruling. And, before we returned to the quest NPC, we got a new player, Witch, who immediately rubbed myself and Fighter the wrong way because she was playing an older, grandmother type, character who... No matter what you said... She knew more than you, or at least as much as you.
Once we got back to the quest NPC, we were paid for the job, and given the option of taking other quests. We did one on an island, it was a poorly narrated place with a simple puzzle that everyone kind of overcomplicated. Typical rpg stuff. Then another, where we got to see Ranger awkwardly flirt with an NPC as a distraction. He was terrible at it, and we all had a great laugh.
I should point out that in each of these sessions we played, DM usually sounded very unprepared, even when we were doing what was clearly intended. He also frequently showed that he was not doing anything to learn the system between sessions. He'd make the same mistakes each week, forget how many actions his NPCs have taken, or even how saves and checks work, frequently using passives, instead of opposed checks. It was frustrating, because we had two brand new players to TTRPGs and we were all new to the game. Yet, it was Fighter and myself, and occasionally Witch as her know-it-all trait wasn't character specific, who were explaining the rules. I even had to correct him on crits once, because he said the number on the attack roll, even with 20, was below the AC. He argued until I showed him the ruling, and he then changed to saying he knew how it worked. Apparently not.
I digress... In game, we did another mission that resulted in our party being ambushed by the noble we had seen at the auction house. The party was then split on motives, as the Witch felt this guy was evil and refused to change her mind, while he told my character he could help her find her biological mother(she was adopted, and there was a lot of familiarities between him and her). Other than what Witch felt about him, and that he was a noble from the invading kingdom, we had no real reason not to trust him. Well, once we were released and able to discuss things, and no matter what anyone did in trying to convince Witch to work with noble, she refused without giving any explanation in or out of character. She just didn't like the guy because of where he was from.
The session ended without us having chosen a side, and we were poised to visit with the noble the next day. The morning of that day, during the next session, Fighter couldn't make it, so we said he went off to talk to someone from his back story, and we went shopping. Rogue got herself a crossbow and Ranger helped teach her how to use it. We then went to a local restaurant my character frequently went to with her adoptive father. This was a fun opportunity for my character to kind of talk about her childhood a bit, how important family is, and some stuff about her dad. When we got there, the Ranger asked what he should order, and my character recommended this huge, expansive breakfast, and I even made up a name for it, the "Hungry Farmers Breakfast" and added that her father proclaimed to have been the first to order it and even named it. Cue our Witch chiming in to say he lied, because this dish is served all across the land. She's eaten it at tons of places.
Now, it's worth mentioning that I had brought it up to DM multiple times that Witch has a know-it-all, one-up whatever you say, personality, and that it really detracts from what others can do. He's said he talked to her about it, and nothing has changed despite that. This, for me, was the last straw. I called her out, and said for her to let us come up with unique character development that we want, and to not steal the wind from our sails. I might have been a bit rude about it, but it was a repeated issue that had yet to be resolved. Witch tried to defend what she said by comparing it to stuff in real life, like from chain restaurants, and I had to point out that they don't tend to have chain restaurants in fantasy worlds, and that this place was specifically a local place.
After that, Witch got quiet and the DM ended the session an hour early because he had stuff to do, and Witch was apparently feeling sick. Supposedly unrelated to being called out. I talked to Rogue and Ranger, and neither of them thought I was out of line, and were sort of feeling the same way about how she was acting. I messaged DM the next day about it, and he promised he'd talk to her again.
I waited a few days, and the Discord server was quiet, and I messaged DM, asking if they had heard back from Witch since they messaged her, and he said he hadn't. He then told me, absolutely out of the blue, that he had a dream of me, that I was holding a baby, and he and I went on a walk together. I... Had never had the misfortune of hearing something like this before, and just promptly tried to change the subject. Fortunately, he went with the change and we talked a bit about Pathfinder stuff. Now, DM knows I'm married, I live in a different country than him, and that I'm... Around 10 years older than him. So, I was very confused as to why he would ever say anything like that to me.
We skipped the next session because two players couldn't make it, and during this time, I asked a lot of people IRL, and in other ttrpg games I'm in about the situation, showing screenshots of the conversation so they had, verbatim, what he said. Everyone, guys and gals, thought it was either super weird, or outright creepy as heck. I agreed, and decided that this would be the last nail in the coffin. Poor descriptions, bad roleplay, terrible rulings, no enthusiasm during actual sessions and suggestions of introducing broken critical failure rules, like permanent injuries or dismemberment into a game with total ttrpg newbies ON TOP of this guy also dreaming about me with a baby. I was done.
I wrote the DM a length explanation, told him how creepy it was, and that I'd be leaving. Wished him well, and waited for his response. To his credit, he didn't explode. But, he did say that I was overreacting because what he said wasn't explicitly sexual or romantic, and so I shouldn't take it that way. Yeah, I'll just take my friend's advice, where she said he was testing the waters with the dream stuff. I told the group I was leaving, without context outside of things just weren't for me. Wished them well.
When I left, Rogue, Ranger and Fighter all stayed in touch and wanted to play more games with me. DM, on the other hand, decided to air out everything that he and I said, sharing screenshots of the conversation and... Yeah. Rogue and Ranger were both kind of shocked by it. Rogue said it was none of her business, and agreed that DM was a creep. Ranger was a bit more forgiving about the dream stuff, but was also offput by the airing of dirty laundry. Fighter left when I did, so he didn't see it.
Tldr: Joined a Pathfinder 2e game where the DM went from incompetent and underwhelming, to really creepy, alongside a player who glorified a gay stereotype, and another who wouldn't let anyone have any cool moment, because she had apparently experienced everything in life, and it was better than whatever you did.
Glad to be out of that group, and now I have Fighter, Rogue and Ranger in a group that I and Fighter take turns DMing one shots in until we can find someone who would like to be a DM for us on a longer form adventure.
All in all, far from the worst horror story, but still an interesting little rollercoaster. I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry if it was a long read.

I was supposed to be dead in February, but didn’t go thru with it for a variety of reasons and have regretted it ever since. Now my plan is to do it on my 30th birthday. A little unoriginal I know but there’s a poetry to it that I like. I’ve wasted my life for long enough and nobody can say I didn’t give it a shot. I tried my best to live a happy life, but every time I make an effort to better myself the universe crushes my soul into dust. I’ve had everything I need to give myself my ideal exit for months and it finally feels right. I just want someone to tell me it’s okay and respect my choice. I don’t want to be talked out of it or hear about how I still have so much to live for, because I don’t. I hate myself, I hate the society we live in, I hate people and their happy lives. I hate watching everyone around me live instead of just survive like I had to. I’m so tired of being jealous of everyone I see. Everyday I’ve thought about ending it, and everyone around me telling me how much I had to live for. None of it was true. I regret not killing myself when I was 17 and first started having ideations. I should have spared myself this life of isolation and emotional pain. I do not want to be saved, I just want some kind of acceptance, or peace of mind before I go. I want to know even for a second what it feels like to accept myself and my choices. To feel proud that I have the courage to overcome fear and instinct to do something for myself. To show myself a kindness. I’m running out of time to figure this out and I know I won’t stop myself.

I (23f) have 3 cats, mama jr (4f), BMO (3f), and Oliver (1.5m). I love them all very much and am very attached to them. They’ve got me through some of the hardest times of my life and I see them as my children, like I literally gave birth to these little fur balls lmao.
I started dating my boyfriend J (21m) about a year ago. We’re moved in together and he’s accepted my cats as his own and loves them just like I do. We’ve been wanting to get a pet together for awhile but both of us have been on the fence because of our existing fur babies who get very jealous.
Well, I deliver pizza for a living and one of my deliveries had about 20 kittens who I knew would just end up on the streets. I kind of impulsively made the decision to bring one home. I surprised J with one (we’ve named her guts) and he was kinda upset about it at first but has fallen inlove.
My cats on the other hand are livid!! I knew this would happen. I got mama and BMO together (mama is bmos mom) and I got Oliver a couple years later. They absolutely hated his guts at first but grew to love each other. I can’t help but feel extremely guilty this time around though.
We’ve been keeping the new kitten in our room and I feel awful because my other cats won’t go in there. I know I have enough love to give for all of them.
I feel bad for making them feel uncomfortable in their own home, and it makes me so sad that they won’t come sleep with me. Are they sad and feel like I’m replacing them? I know this is normal behavior when introducing a new cat but did I make a mistake? Is 4 cats too many? Will my cats ever forgive me? Am I just being silly and overthinking this way too much? Am I the asshole?

I went up to 400 mg of lamictal on May 5th. I started to develop neck twitches the following week (May 12) but thought it was due to the stress of the job. Around May 18th my eyes started rolling back and I was BLINKING A LOT. A few days later, May 25th-ish I started itching really badly.
I’m worried this is permanent. Do you think I’m catching the medication side effects soon enough that it won’t be permanent?

They are running out of cash and cannot sustain their high user acquisition costs. For every 100 merge mansion players only 2 actually buy something in the game. And they have 150M Euros debt they need to pay. All those exciting and very expensive ads with Pedro Pascal and other hollywood stars is just a waste of money.
https://www.pocketgamer.biz/news/81452/finnish-giant-metacores-ceo-and-co-founder-mika-tammenkoski-reflects-on-a-difficult-year-for-the-industry/
Metacore CEO and co-founder Mika Tammenkoski acted as the event’s keynote speaker, reflecting on the industry’s turbulent year.
“I would love to start by saying it’s been a great year for the games industry, but I know that isn’t entirely true,” said Tammenkoski. “In many ways it’s actually been a really tough year. Some studios have been closed down, others have gone to layoffs, funding is coarse, overall market has declined, and global events have had an effect on the wellbeing of people.
“There’s a lot of pessimism about the future of the industry, especially mobile. At GDC a month a go, most of the people I met had very grim outlooks. There was even talk about a mobile winter out there.”
“These three areas need to be tackled by the industry together. They’re complex themes that probably won’t be solved tonight, definitely not tomorrow morning, but hopefully they’re on every game company’s agenda in the months and years to come.

I went up to 400 mg of lamictal on May 5th. I started to develop neck twitches the following week (May 12) but thought it was due to the stress of the job. Around May 18th my eyes started rolling back and I was BLINKING A LOT. A few days later, May 25th-ish I started itching really badly.
I’m worried this is permanent. Do you think I’m catching the medication side effects soon enough that it won’t be permanent?

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

I can feel it, I yearn for it. the ultimatum of which my life has led up to, the ongoing fight I can never seem to win. The same fight I’ve been fighting for years, since I was nothing but a little boy. I can feel the pages start to wither, I can feel the chapter start to run out of words. It won’t be my hand, because that’s just not me; I care too much, I love too much. I just couldn’t anticipate it more, I hope they remember me. I hope they carry my name with my pride, I hope they speak of me within good terms. I hope I can lead as an example as how this illness can slowly burn a hole in your heart, and rot your mind. The light that echoes within my chamber will soon go out, this vessel can finally be laid to rest.

Darkness engulfs me. It devours me like the creature I fear most. I try opening my eyes but there’s no difference. All I see is total black nothingness.
It wouldn’t be so bad if I weren’t deathly terrified of the dark.
At home there’s never a time when I allow darkness to fully overwhelm the light. I have night lights and security lights lining every hall and in every room. I’m never one hundred percent in the dark. That is, not until now.
I feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead at the mere thought of what could be lurking in the inky blackness that envelopes me. Even the most mundane holds terror when you can’t see it but your mind tells you it’s there. A throng of spiders waiting just out of reach to make me its next meal. A pit of snakes that you dangle perilously close to the precipice.
If you can’t see, how can you tell if your eyes are open or closed?
I reach down and press my hand against the cold floor that I lay on. I stretch out my fingers, laying them flat to feel it. The cold creeps into them, its tendrils invading my body like a virus. It feels like the darkness is digging through my skin deeper down inside me to my bones, to my marrow, to my soul.
I’m lost in this sea of gloom. I don’t even know where I am. I’m terrified to make a move lest I tumble over the invisible edge.
I don’t know how I got here.
I don’t know where here is.
I’ve no idea why I’m here, unless…
As fearful as this mysterious place makes me, the thought of unless chills me to the marrow. The darkness is even set aside for a moment in my mind, displaced by the unless.
It seems so long ago and at the same time, it feels like it just happened. The deepest, darkest place in my soul. The thing I keep locked up tight, never to ponder let alone discuss. The unless is untouchable. Only in my worst nightmares does my subconscious toy with the idea of the unless.
No. I can’t let it consume me. My thoughts running rampant won’t help me to discover what this place is. I must do that first if the miracle of escape is even possible.
I slowly slide my hand outward as far as it will reach. Each micro-moment prepared to withdraw it if harm is approached. With my senses diminished, the only way to search for harm is to sacrifice my hand. Like sending out a scout to see if the area is clear or the enemy is close by.
My hand reaches its limit unmolested. I change direction from straight out to an arc. Feeling for anything like a one-winged snow angel.
My hand discovers nothing, but the movement has stimulated something of my lost senses. I hear the sliding of my fingers on the floor’s surface.
It echoes back to me quickly. I try once again, faster and louder this time. The echoes return almost immediately.
My mind absorbs the details and makes a conclusion. The room must not be very big. It augments the conclusion with the supposition that the floor is concrete. The smoothness, the cold, and the sound it makes all seem to come together.
I further test the conclusion by forming a fist and knocking on the floor.
The sound and feel cement the hypotheses.
As I congratulate myself on my deduction, I hear something. Having not moved, I don’t think the sound came from me. It happened only briefly and I wasn’t listening for any sounds outside the ones I’d made.
My mind replayed it and came to a startling conclusion. It sounded like a sigh.
As if someone was my unwitting cellmate in this murky prison.
Relief and despair fought a furious battle at the prospect of another in my company that I know nothing about.
Company in this tenebrous place would be a welcome happenstance. It may even lead to our escape if we work together.
However, if I am here about the unless then what horrid crime had they committed to be relegated to this torturous existence?
Caution seemed the most prudent course. Perhaps my cellmate was unaware of my existence. Keeping it that way until I could discover more seemed a prudent goal.
Armed with the knowledge of the floor’s composition and the existence of a potential cellmate, I set about to gather more information about my surroundings.
I rolled onto my back slowly, so as not to make any noise that would alert the other to my presence. I then used my other arm to search for any obstructions within its arc.
Finding none, I proceeded to move my legs as far to the side as possible, completing my concrete angel.
Next on my list for this absurd exploration, I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, making sure to feel as far out with my hand should a sudden drop-off present itself unannounced and end my journey in the most horrific fashion.
Finding nothing to impede my progress, I took the next step of taking my first step.
As I did, my shoe brushed the floor, making a sound that under normal circumstances would barely be noticed. However, I wasn’t in normal circumstances.
The effect was immediate and terrifying.
This time there was no sigh. It was a low-throated growl.
I became a statue as liquid nitrogen rushed through my veins. The growl was deep and throaty, like a lion’s only somehow different.
Every inch of my being clenched in a group effort to stay as still as humanly possible. My hope was that this thing would think it had made a mistake and hadn’t heard the movement of its next potential meal. It was more than a hope, it was the key to my survival.
The problem was I was trapped in a position kneeling on one knee, about to get up. My knee on the hard floor was starting to complain and I knew it was only a matter of time until my balance wavered.
I couldn’t hold this position for long. I was already starting to shake from the effort. My balance was wavering, beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I hoped it couldn’t smell fear because I was throwing out waves of it.
My leg was shaking, my knee was screaming. I had to make a decision. Do I sit back down or go all the way to standing?
Whichever I did needed to happen fast before my knee gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a noisy heap.
I decided to stand. Putting one hand on my knee and the other on the floor, I pushed up and ascended. As I rose, my knee popped. It wasn’t painful, but it was loud in this quiet room. So loud that it echoed back to me.
I made it all the way to the standing position before I heard the growl again. This time it was followed by sounds that were much worse. First was a sniffing sound as if it was testing the air, searching for its prey. The second was the soft yet unmistakable sound of a footstep.
I didn’t breathe as I waited to hear another. I listened for any sound, and unfortunately, I heard one. It was this thing’s breath. It was long and slow as if this monster’s lungs were huge to accommodate a massive body.
The sniffing continued but the second footfall didn’t come. Perhaps it was as confused as I was as to why it was here.
I was never so glad about the darkness as at that moment. I was still terrified, but at least the darkness had become my ally if only for a moment. I couldn’t see the monster, which was a blessing in itself. My imagination was already picturing the most horrendous, demonic thing that ever cursed the planet with its existence. But the darkness was a double-edged sword. It couldn’t see me either. If I stayed quiet enough, it might write me off as nothing more than a figment of its imagination.
With only rhythmic breathing and no sound of pursuit, I took my first standing step away from the beast. With measured and calculated caution, I stepped away from the sound of my bane and felt silently and cautiously with the toe of my shoe to make sure there was a floor to step onto.
My foot landed with the impact of a feather. I transferred weight to that leg and stepped with the other. With the lights on and no demon waiting to devour me, my motions would’ve been quite comical.
As the situation was, they were anything but.
I continued the arduous task of silent escape, listening intently for any change in the monster’s breathing.
Time had no meaning in this place, but if I were to guess I would say it took me nearly half an hour to take ten steps.
The eleventh step, however, was the problem.
When I put my foot out, it hit something.
I immediately froze. I couldn’t tell if the something had been hard like a table, or soft like another creature lying in wait for some poor stupid person to stumble into it.
I drew my foot back and waited to see if whatever it was reacted. The darkness didn’t abate. At times I considered holding my eyes closed. At least that would keep them hydrated. For some strange reason, it also seemed to help my focus.
I listened for any sign that this object was alive and/or about to devour me. After a few moments, the only sound I heard was my own breathing. I tentatively stuck out my foot and touched the object again.
It was hard and unyielding. I reached out with my arm and also touched something solid. I felt around on it and bent down all the way to the floor.
It was a wall.
The rough texture and ridges told me it was made of concrete block. I reached as high as I could, even getting up on my tiptoes, trying to find anything useful.
I explored the wall, feeling my way to the right until I reached a corner. As tempted as I was to turn and feel down this new wall, I knew it ended on the side of the room where the monster dwelled. I had no desire to approach that thing without light and a very deadly weapon.
As much as my fingers had become my eyes, my ears became my sonar, staying tuned to any sound. To this point, there hadn’t been much.
That didn’t last.
There was a shuffling sound that made me freeze. It was followed by the sounds of scraping on the concrete floor. Its soft breathing had gotten deeper and steadier.
It was getting up.
I stood in my corner not moving, barely breathing as I heard one soft footstep after another, getting louder with each step.
It was curious about the other side of the room… my side of the room.
I had to focus not to give it a strong smell to follow. I hadn’t used the bathroom in hours. Not that there was a bathroom in here that I knew of, but I would’ve used the other corner and then never returned to it until nature called again.
As the monster continued across the room I could hear sniffing.
It was hunting for me.
My nerves told me to run. My mind told me to stand still. My bladder didn’t care as long as it was emptied soon.
The footsteps continued to approach. There was no doubt it was searching for me, and it would find me. My mind ran through every option available in a blindingly dark room with a beast searching for its next meal that was slowly approaching.
I hugged the wall and started toward the other side of the room.
Common sense argued that I had no idea if there was another creature on the far side of the room, but there seemed to be no choice.
As we continued our silent dance, I pictured the creature passing by as I slid along the wall toward its side of the room.
When we had both reached the halfway point, it suddenly stopped. I froze and held my breath as it sniffed the air. For a long moment, it was totally silent. It seemed to be holding its breath as well as if listening for me.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut and focused on being totally still. My lungs were burning from holding my breath. I knew I would soon spew out the stale air and gulp in fresh.
I also knew that would be the end of me. The creature would know I was here and it would use the sound to track me down and tear me to bloody shreds as it devoured me.
The countdown had begun in my mind. It was a matter of seconds until my lungs gave out and I had to breathe the last breath.
10…
9…
8…
7…
I heard a footstep. The creature was moving again.
I held my hand over my mouth and slowly exhaled, then just as slowly inhaled. It was difficult to keep my oxygen-starved lungs from demanding more air, but I was able to catch up quietly without breathing so hard as to make noise.
I continued on my perilous journey toward the unknown, carefully listening to the creature also continue its journey.
As I reached the corner of my nemesis, fear gripped me as I stepped on something soft. I waited for an attack that never came. Slowly, I reached down to explore this newfound softness. It was hair. Soft fur the kind that an animal would shed.
All my suspicions were now fact. There was an animal here. It wasn’t just my imagination. My fear and anxiety were fully justified.
As I made my revelation, I heard my nemesis reach the far wall and bump into it. It then began sniffing in earnest.
It must’ve caught my scent.
It knew I was real too.
The sniffing was getting closer. I allowed myself a moment of panic before the realization that the only thing I could do was continue my course around the room. I made my way through the blanket of fur and headed for the far wall, feeling as I went for the one thing that may hold my potential rescue, a doorknob.
So far, there had been no indication of a door whatsoever. I prayed that the unexplored wall would remedy that.
I continued on this insane and deadly game of ring around the Rosie, stepping up my speed as much as possible while still staying silent. It’s one thing to know you’re being hunted, it’s another thing altogether to ring the dinner bell by giving your position away.
I was counting on it becoming confused when it circled back to its own nest. It was still as dark as ever and apparently, this thing didn’t have any better night vision than I did.
I reached the far corner and hope surged through me that I would find a door. My escape seemed imminent. I stepped up my search, going faster along this wall, but also feeling as much of the surface as possible in search of the desired door.
My hopes came crashing down when I reached the next corner without finding anything.
It couldn’t be.
It had to be here.
How else did this demon and I enter the room?
My despair crushed me like a ton of bricks. There was nothing left to do. This thing would eventually catch me. There was no escape.
In the middle of my pity party, I noticed something. The room was silent.
I couldn’t hear it sniffing.
I couldn’t hear it breathing.
I had no idea where it was.
I tried to keep my breathing under control as panic washed over me. There was nothing to do but wait.
In the darkness, I felt something soft brush against me.
It had found me.
The subtle growl was no longer across the room, it was right here in front of me.
OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod!
I felt a river run down the inside of my pants as my bladder finally gave up the fight.
A sharp claw ran across my throat, not hard enough to cut, but enough to let me know I was about to die.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The darkness. The silence. The menace.
I screamed at the top of my lungs.
I screamed over and over. It wasn’t even words, just primal sounds that escaped me. Every wail as a baby. Every cry of pain. Every shriek of fright as I woke from a nightmare. I let them all out. The screams of my victims as they suffered at my hands. The screams of their families as the court sentenced me. The screams inside my mind in a cell alone thinking only of the unless.
The unless.
The unless…
The unless!
Suddenly the lights came on.
I covered my eyes to ward off the brightness. As I slowly adjusted I was able to look around the room.
The creature was gone.
No, it couldn’t be.
I looked over at the wall where I had walked through the fur, but there was none. I looked all around, but there were only blank walls.
Where is it?
Whereisitwhereisitwhereisit?
I turned round and round, but it was gone. Had it ever really been here?
A door opened and two large men dressed in white came in.
“No,” I screamed. “Don’t come near! It’ll get you!”
They marched across the room oblivious to the danger and picked me up.
“It’s time to go back to your room,” one of the men said, picking me up under the shoulder. “The doc says you’ve had enough therapy for today.”
“Did you see it?” I said.
They carried me out without answering. We came into a hallway that stretched forever. I tried to look back at the open door.
“Don’t let it out,” I said. “You’ve got to keep it in.”
They didn’t bother to look back, just continued down the hall.
I turned and saw it peek it’s head out of the room.
“No!” I screamed.
They didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just picked me up so my feet dangled off the floor until we reached a room. They unlocked it and set me in on my bunk.
“You should probably get cleaned up,” one of the men said as I tried to get up but he held me down.
“You know how this goes,” he said. “You stay on your bunk until we lock the door.”
The second man backed out of the room then the first man released me and followed him.
I ran for the door.
“You don’t understand! It’s loose. It’ll kill you all!”
They turned and walked away.
“No!” I screamed at the tiny window in my door.
I pounded on the door for a long time, but no one else came by. Maybe it had already gotten them. Maybe it would come to my door and peek in my window with blood dripping from its mouth.
I stepped back from the door, feeling exhausted. I looked over at the tiny shower stall and did what they suggested.
Everything was built into the wall. The shower, the sink, the table, the bed, there was nothing I could use to hurt myself or defend myself.
After I took a shower and put on fresh clothes, I sat at my desk and wrote what had happened with the monster. When I was done I laid down, hoping to be able to rest.
At the appointed time, the lights went out.
The darkness engulfed me.
It devoured me like the thing I fear most.
I lay there with my eyes open, waiting.
In the black nothingness, I heard it, a soft growl.

This story was told to me by a friend who we'll call J.D., a graphic designer who had a very lucky day. He was dating a girl who we'll call Lisa, who he thought was the love of his life. They had been together for two years and he was planning to surprise her with a romantic trip to Paris. He bought two plane tickets and packed his bags. He was ready to take her to the city of love and start a new chapter in their life.
​
However, things didn’t go as planned. When he arrived at Lisa’s apartment, he saw a note on the door. It said that she had gone to Paris with another man. He recognized the handwriting as Mark’s, her co-worker who he had always been suspicious of. He couldn’t believe that Lisa would do this to him. She had betrayed him and humiliated him. She had taken his dream trip and his heart and thrown them away. He felt crushed and angry. He threw the note on the ground and walked away, crying and cursing. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He felt like his life was over.
​
He walked around aimlessly for a while, until he heard an announcement on the radio. It said that Fabled Fawn ASMR, one of his favorite ASMR artists, was hosting a special contest on the radio station. It said that the lucky caller who answered a trivia question correctly would win a date with her. J.D. had always been a fan of Fabled Fawn ASMR and he thought that maybe this was his chance to cheer up and forget about Lisa. He decided to give it a try and called the number on the radio.
​
He got through to Fabled Fawn ASMR herself, who greeted him with her soft and soothing voice. She asked him his name and where he was from. J.D. told her his name and said that he was from Redmond, Washington. Fabled Fawn ASMR said that he was the lucky caller and that he had a chance to win a date with her. She asked him if he was ready for the trivia question. J.D. said that he was ready and excited. He couldn’t believe that he was talking to his favorite ASMR artist.
​
Fabled Fawn ASMR said that the trivia question was: What is the name of the ASMR trigger that involves blowing air into the microphone? J.D. knew the answer right away. He said that it was ear blowing. Fabled Fawn ASMR said that he was correct and that he had won the date with her. She congratulated him and said that she was looking forward to meeting him. She said that she would arrange the details with him later.
​
J.D. was ecstatic. He couldn’t believe that he had just won a date with Fabled Fawn ASMR. He felt like he had just won the lottery. He forgot about Lisa and Mark and his broken heart. He felt like this was a sign that his life was about to change for the better. He thanked Fabled Fawn ASMR and hung up the phone. He had been dumped by his partner and then won a date with his favorite ASMR artist. He couldn’t wait to meet Fabled Fawn ASMR and see what would happen next.

Our landlord contacted us on the 25th May as he wants to increase our rent and mentioned obviously sending a new contract out. I said I would discuss with my partner and get back to him - we’re accepting of the increase because we’ve discussed and won’t be able to get anywhere decent in the same price range. I’ve since tried calling the landlord back to accept but haven’t got through yet (he only has a landline so unable to leave a voicemail). My partner paid our rent at usual rate on the 1st, he thinks it should start next month as we don’t have a new contract yet. I just wanted to check is there a statutory notice period for increasing the rent or can we asked to backdate the increase to the 1st of this month?

I would rather grind 10 hours for a single level than be able to level up every 5 minutes, but when I die I go back to level 1. I absolutely hate losing my stuff. The only way to make a rouge like good is to have permanent unlocks that you can get that carry over, I have three games I can think of that do this well

1. In last place is “For the king” a dungeons and dragons esque turn based RPG, with online and local co op. While playing you will get a currency that allows you to unlock new buildings that have a CHANCE to appear, new items that have a CHANCE to appear, new events that have a CHANCE to appear, and new classes. So far, out of all the unlocks, only one thing (the wood cutter class) has been really good, and another thing (A market that opens up at night) has been decent. Everything else is like a chance for a minor upgrade, that BARELY has a chance to appear anyway (I’ve yet to run into most of the stuff I’ve unlocked, and other than the night market and a carnival which sucks, I’ve ran into the others like once or twice). So far only one item has been slightly good, which I haven’t run into yet, and every other item is like 3 damage more than your starting weapon
   
2. The middle game, “Dead Cells” a hollow knight esque 2D hack and slasher. You collect “Cells” which you can use to get permanent upgrades to your kit that take immediate effect, such as being able to get one free (or more) healing potions each time you reach the safe room that’s at the end of each level, being able to buy new weapons, that unlike “For the king”, have a very good chance of showing up, and being able to start out with a random weapon in your weapon pool.
   
3. The best game “The Guided Fate Paradox” an anime game that is very much like the Disgaea series. This one does it perfect, while in dungeons you start at level 1, and you have to pick up gear. If at any time you die you go back to level 1 and lose your gear. However using certain items you can leave the dungeon and stash gear in a box so that if you die you won’t have to go back to using your fists with no armor. Also everytime you die (and I believe when you finish the dungeon) you do go back to level 1, however depending on how high your level got on your current run it will increase your base stats that never go away. So if on your first run you start with 10 attack, then make it to level 10 with 50 attack, when you die and start over you will be at level 1 with 13 attack, and by the time you get to level 10 again your attack will be 53 or higher. This doesn’t sound like much but it stacks and becomes amazing. I almost like this mechanic more than just regular leveling up
   

I was reading a background of a professional singer who mentioned how they wrote a song at six years old and was singing from that age in school choirs. She said that she also wrote dark poetry from 10 years old. She continued writing songs and practicing hours on the piano after school in her teen years.
I was wondering if someone could naturally gravitate towards that or if it’s more likely that a parent or teacher would encourage them. I don’t think I would have started to sing at that age or if I did, I doubt my parents encouraged me to continue that.
Also, it’s hard to imagine a child choosing to write songs or poetry at such a young age in their free time. Do you think she must have enjoyed writing and playing piano?
I was curious because I am interested in following this career path but I never had the opportunity or encouragement from my parents to see if this is something I am good at. I wonder if it’s too late for me because I’m in my mid twenties so compared to her, I’m like twenty years behind.
If I don’t have the natural inclination to come up with melodies or write, does that mean I won’t be able to be as successful?
Is creating melodies something one is born with?

To ensure your cat’s well-being and happiness, it’s essential to have the right supplies on hand. In this blog post, we will explore the must-have supplies that every cat owner should consider. From feeding essentials to comfort items, let’s dive into the essential supplies needed to provide a loving and enriching environment for your furry friend.

• Cat Bed or Blankets: Create a cozy spot for your cat to relax and sleep. A soft cat bed or blankets can offer comfort and security. Consider the size and style that suits your cat’s preferences, whether they prefer an enclosed bed or a simple blanket on a favorite chair.

Click here for Cozy Cat Bed

• Food and Water Bowls: Start with sturdy and easy-to-clean food and water bowls. Opt for bowls made of ceramic, stainless steel, or BPA-free plastic. Consider the appropriate size and depth for your cat’s comfort and safety.
• Litter Box and Litter: Provide a suitable litter box that accommodates your cat’s size. Choose a litter box with low sides for easy access and ensure it is placed in a quiet and easily accessible area. Use cat-friendly litter that meets your cat’s preferences, such as clumping, non-clumping, or natural alternatives.
• Scratching Posts: Cats have a natural instinct to scratch, so providing appropriate outlets for this behavior is crucial. Invest in a sturdy scratching post or a scratching board. Place them strategically around the house to protect your furniture and allow your cat to stretch and maintain their claws.
• Toys and Interactive Play: Keep your cat mentally and physically stimulated with a variety of toys. Consider interactive toys, such as puzzle feeders or treat-dispensing toys, to engage your cat’s hunting instincts. Feather wands, balls, and catnip toys are also great options for playtime and bonding.
• Grooming Tools: Maintain your cat’s coat health with grooming tools. Purchase a cat-specific brush or comb suitable for their coat length. Additionally, have a pair of cat-friendly nail clippers or a nail grinder to keep their nails trimmed.
• Cat Carrier: A sturdy and secure cat carrier is essential for vet visits, travel, or emergencies. Choose a carrier that provides comfort, ventilation, and ease of access. It’s beneficial to familiarize your cat with the carrier in advance to reduce stress during transportation.
• ID Tags and Microchip: Ensure your cat’s safety by attaching an ID tag to their collar with your contact information. Additionally, consider microchipping your cat as a reliable form of identification should they ever go missing.
• Cat-Friendly Cleaning Supplies: Maintain a clean and hygienic environment with cat-friendly cleaning supplies. Use pet-safe cleaners and detergents that won’t harm your cat if accidentally ingested.
• Cat-specific Food and Treats: Provide your cat with high-quality cat food that meets their nutritional needs. Consult with your veterinarian to determine the appropriate diet for your cat’s age, health, and dietary requirements. Additionally, have a selection of healthy cat treats for training or occasional rewards.

Click here for Cozy Cat Bed for your indoor cats to keep them warm.

I started a new job 3 months ago. I love it, it’s been great and they have been incredibly understanding about me missing so much time. I am a single mom with no help and my toddler is within her first year of daycare so she is literally constantly sick. I have gotten 2 full paychecks since I started, all the rest have been partials because of missed days. A few weeks ago the transmission on my new car blew and I had to miss 4 days of work while it was in the shop. Not even two weeks later, last week, my daughter spikes a fever of 103° during the night and I had to stay home Thursday and Friday with her. Monday was a paid holiday and I woke up sick and tested positive for Covid Tuesday morning.
I messaged the owner (he’s the only phone number I was given besides office number which I can’t call outside of office hours and I get bad anxiety making phone calls calling out) letting him know and saying “the DOH website says 5 day quarantine from when symptoms first arise which was Monday” and asking if they had any company specific policies regarding Covid.
He said “We have no specific requirements anymore. It is more up to the individual and their beliefs and how they feel. It is always best to certainly wear a mask even if it is just a cold. Get well and keep us appraised. “ I told him that I would come back when my symptoms went away then because I was worried about saying “I’m not comfortable coming back before my 5 day quarantine is over”. Tomorrow is day 5 and I am not comfortable going in, but I’m worried that I’ll look like I’m making excuses and I just don’t know what to say or how to word it so that it doesn’t sound that way, especially since I didn’t say that in the first place. What would you do in my situation? A year ago I wouldn’t even think twice about saying I won’t come in until after the isolation period, but now that the pandemic is considered “over”, my state doesn’t require masks anywhere anymore, and I feel like people look at it more as a “recommendation to quarantine” opposed to the requirement it was seen as before.

Just rebuilt the bottom end of my vortec 350 after it spun a bearing a while back. Haven’t had a chance to get it fully timed but it’s to the point it will start and idle somewhat. It doesn’t show oil pressure but has oil pressure at the same time, I can pull off a valve cover and see oil pumping, also hooking up a manual oil pressure gauge won’t show oil pressure but if I hit the release pressure button it drains a steady stream of oil from it. I’m super confused and any ideas would be great.

I love philosophy. I love talking about ideas, I love making arguments, I love questioning intuitions, and I’m good at it… but its not going to amount to anything meaningful, sans a career in academia or publishing (hopefully). I feel like everything worth saying has been said already, and contributing to it just inflates the already obese pool of content for us to consume as we distract ourselves from the problems collapsing upon the world. We already know what we need to do to make a more ethical world, a more socially satisfying world, a more politically viable world, a more just world. But writing about it isn’t going to do anything; the people who care already care, the people who don’t… won’t. Every other discussion within philosophy outside of ethics, politics, and justice is interesting and meaningful, worthwhile endeavours, but if we don’t prioritize ethics then it just feels like we’re a bunch of intellectuals jerking each other off as the world burns.
Besides, engaging in philosophy alienates me from my life, my friends, my family. I can’t stop thinking and start living. Should i bother going down this road?