Erie common pleas court
I woke in a dark room. Something was in there with me.
2023.06.02 09:44 Horror_writer_1717 I woke in a dark room. Something was in there with me.
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.
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2023.06.02 09:43 Horror_writer_1717 I woke in a dark room. Something horrible was in there with me.
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.
submitted by
Horror_writer_1717 to
Horror_Writer_1717 [link] [comments]
2023.06.02 09:42 Horror_writer_1717 I woke in a dark room. Something horrible was in there with me.
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.
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Horror_writer_1717 to
ZakBabyTV_Stories [link] [comments]
2023.06.02 09:39 Horror_writer_1717 I woke in a dark room. Something horrible was in there with me.
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.
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2023.06.02 09:28 Plus-Werewolf5037 My picks for the strongest outsoles/traction which would be best for outdoor
Hey Sneakerheads,
I live in Australia in a smaller city, so we have no free use indoor courts which is why I play outdoors. Our most common sports store has a couple of AAA releases but mostly has budget options, so I went to check out the shoes in person to get my actual hands on all the outsoles/material to actually judge what is the toughest material. It was very cool to see that most of the information online is pretty accurate, but I wanted to really go in depth because I don't think I'm alone in the quest for an outdoor shoe. Im not rating cushion, price, fix, impact protection, I am only talking about the outsole.
From the shoes in the store (mostly nike sorry) , here is my list of weakest to strongest organized by 3 tiers (tier 3 weak, tier 2 good, tier 3 great)
TIER 3 - weak
Kyrie Flytrap 6 - I didn't like the design too much, on top of that the rubber was very very soft I would avoid.
KD Trey V X - Beautiful shoe, very well made extremely comfortable, but extremely soft rubber wouldn't last very long at all.
Giannis Immortality 2 - The internet lists this option as a good outdoor shoe because of price, but honestly speaking the rubber was very soft, firmer than the KD but definitely not going to last long outdoors., great looker though.
TIER 2 - good
Nike Precision 6 - First real jump now from the shoes above. Much tougher than the Giannis, much firmer shoe, perhaps not the best traction pattern for outdoor (smaller grooves) but a very solid option, should do you well.
Jordan 1 Take 4 - Good material, quite tough, pretty ugly imo but again a good option that has a 90's blacktop feel so should be a good option.
TIER 3 - great
Lebron Witness 7 - Amazingly tough rubber, great big grooves, very surprising from Nike. You would be absolutely fine with this outdoors, the only reason it isn't higher is because the options listed below were even tougher materials.
Nike Impact 4 - I have never felt tougher rubber in a Nike shoe, in fact knowing that they are capable of making such a tough outsole pisses me off because this should be how all Nikes are made. This is an absolute tank of a shoe, heads and shoulders above any other Nike offering - this shoe would last you a long time.
Dame Certified - Wow, people online always hype up the Adidas shoes for outdoor, and holy shit no wonder why. Absolutey amazing, extremely tough, I could barely move the rubber with my fingers pushing in as hard as possible. The grooves where nice and large, shoe materials were excellent also, this is a stellar option (looks kinda odd) but amazingly tough. I would assume that the Harden Step backs, Dame signature and Harden signature would also be this tough.
Under Armour Curry HOVR Splash 3 AP Basketball Shoes - Online this is listed as an outdoor shoe with harder rubber (probably for the Asian market). I was skeptical of this claim (seen it plenty times before) but jesus christ, this is the toughest rubber I have ever felt on a hoop shoe. I almost cut my fingers on the grooves. It has like a rice grain patter that looks awful but was extremely tough. I've heard the cushion is suspect but just based on outsole durability - this was BY FAR the winner.
Anyway, hope that helps, Nugs in 5
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2023.06.02 08:53 WonderWomanPhi Summer To Do List
Here’s a list I’ve compiled of all the major summer events, thought it would be helpful:
Taste of Syracuse • June 2-3 11am-10pm • Clinton Square
Syracuse Bike Party • Last Saturday of each month, 6:45 meet time • Clinton Square (or alternative site)
Fayetteville Farmers Market CNY • Every Thursday, 12-6pm • Fayetteville Town Center
Syracuse Downtown Farmers Market • Every Tuesday, 8am-2pm • Clinton Square
Cazenovia Farmers' Market • Every Saturday, 9am-2pm • Memorial Park on Albany Street
Bank Alley Urban Market • June 11, July 16, August 13 • 11am-4pm • Bank Allley Downtown Syracuse
Bank Alley Social Club • Shop Small Sundays • June 18, July 23 • 11am-5pm • Located at Salt City Market
Syracuse Shakespeare In The Park • June 2-11 • Thornden Park Amphitheater
St. Sophia’s Greek Cultural Festival • June 8-10 • 325 Waring Road
CNY Pride Festival & Parade • June 10, 11am parade, 12-5pm festival • Inner Harbor
2023 New York State Blues Festival • June 15-17 • Chevy Court
Westcott Art Trail • June 17, 10am-6pm • Westcott Community Center
Polish Days in Syracuse • June 9-11 • Clinton Square
Syracuse Jazz Fest • June 21-25 • Hanover and Clinton Square
St. Elias Middle Eastern Festival • July 13-16, various times • 4988 Onondaga Road
Syracuse Nationals • July 20-22 • NYS Fairgrounds
M&T Bank Syracuse Arts & Crafts Festival • July 28-30 • Columbus Circle
Skaneateles Antique and Classic Boat Show • July 28-30 • Skaneateles, NY
Visit Syracuse Hanover Square Thursdays • Live music every Thursday in August • Hanover Square Downtown
Madison Bouckville Antique Week • August 14-20 • Rt 20 Bouckville, NY
The Skaneateles Festival • Live music events • July-August, various dates • Downtown Skaneateles
St. George Macedonian Festival • August 4-6 • 5083 Onondaga Road
CNY Scottish Games • August 12, 9am-8pm • Long Branch Park, Liverpool
Syracuse Irish Festival • September 8-9 • Clinton Square
Strathmore Art on the Porches • September 9, 11am-5pm • Ruskin Ave
Golden Harvest Festival • September 9-10, 10am-5pm • Beaver Lake Nature Center
Festa Italiana Syracuse • September 15-17 • Corner of Montgomery and Washington Streets (in front of city hall)
Westcott Street Cultural Fair • October 1, 12-6:30pm • Westcott Neighborhood
LaFayette Apple Festival • October 7-8 • 5330 Rowland Road, LaFayette
Syracuse Mets Home Games June: 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 28, 29, 30 July: 1, 2, 3, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 August: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27 September: 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24
Rosamond Gifford Zoo • Open every sinlge day • 10:00am - 4:30pm
Museums: • Skä•noñh - Great Law of Peace Center • Everson Museum of Art • Museum of Science & Technology - MOST • Erie Canal Museum • Salt Museum • Onondaga Historical Association
Theaters and stages: • The Palace Theatre Syracuse • Landmark Theatre • The Westcott Theater • The Oncenter • Syracuse Stage • Redhouse Theater
Some parks and beaches, more below: • Beaver Lake Nature Center (has lots of activities and programs!) • Clark Reservation • Green Lakes State Park • Sylvan Beach Amusement Park • Thornden Park
Onondaga County Parks • Find parks, beaches, and activities here:
https://onondagacountyparks.com Syracuse Parks & Rec • Find parks and activities here:
https://www.syr.gov/Departments/Parks-Recreation New York State Office of Parks, Recreation and Historic Preservation • Find parks, beaches, activities, and historic sites here:
https://parks.ny.gov The Great New York State Fair Free/reduced price/theme days: ⭐️Thursday, August 24, 2023 Student Youth Day Youth and Students under 18 years of age are admitted free on this day. ID showing date of birth may be requested.
⭐️Friday, August 25, 2023 Pride Day The first state fair in America to host an official Pride Day to celebrate the LGBTQIA+ community.
New Americans Day Witness approximately 100 people as they complete a long and challenging process to pledge their allegiance to the United States and become Americans. Ceremony will be held at Daniella’s Seafood & Pasta House in the Art & Home Center.
⭐️Monday, August 28, 2023 Law Enforcement Day We honor the men and women of law enforcement in New York State with free admission to any active or retired law enforcement or corrections personnel who presents a badge or picture ID from the department from which they are or were employed.
⭐️Tuesday, August 29, 2023 Fire & Rescue Day We honor the brave men and women of fire and emergency services agencies with free admission to any active or retired member of a fire department or emergency services organization who has a picture ID from that department or organization.
⭐️Wednesday, August 30, 2023 Women's Day A mini-fair will be held from 10:00am to 4:00pm at the Chevy Court Pavilion featuring many advocacy groups for women… feel free to stop by to get information, learn, and ask any questions.
⭐️Thursday, August 31, 2023 Armed Forces Day We celebrate all members of the military with free admission to any active duty or veteran with military identification (Military ID Card, form DD-214 or NYS Driver License, Learner Permit or non-driver ID card with a veteran designation).
⭐️Friday, September 1, 2023 Native Americans Day We honor all members of Native American tribes with free admission on this day. ID is not required. Make sure to visit the Indian Village throughout the day for cultural performances and crafts.
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2023.06.02 07:24 WhizzFizzRobot Latest News: Danny Gonzalez breaths sigh of relief as courts rule in favour of comedy
Almost two years ago, the now infamous Gonzalez v. James case began. Thomas James first sued Mr Gonzales after James’s mother, Mrs James, who was an avid fan of Mr Gonzalez on YouTube, died suddenly.
Seven months before she died, Mrs James began watching Mr Gonzalez’s YouTube content, something she not only shared with her three grandchildren, but also greatly enjoyed herself. She became quite an avid fan of Mr Gonzalez, and regularly referred to herself as a “Greg” and her grandchildren as “Greglings”.
Mrs James’s health began been deteriorating rapidly, and for her last several days was in hospital for various complications. In one of Mr Gonzales’s prior videos entitled “Comedy = Hot”, he claimed that all of his “Greg’s”, a creative name for his YouTube subscribers, “were immoral” and “would never die”. Once Mrs James passed, her son, Mr Thomas James sued Danny Gonzalez for false advertising and emotional damage. James claimed that Gonzalez had falsely advertised the benefits of becoming one of his subscribers, and thus James blamed Gonzalez for the emotional damage of loosing his mother.
The subsequent two years were a multitude of lawsuits, appeals and counterclaims, as Thomas James, who is connected to wealth tried to out-sue the less wealthy Gonzalez in an effort.
However, throughout it all Danny Gonzalez and his wife Laura remained strong and just today the Supreme Court ruled in favour of Mr Gonzalez, stating that “due to his abundance of exaggerated phrases, and the common-known science that immortality is impossible, it is reasonable for Mr Gonzalez to assume that his audience would be able to understand that, and see it as nothing more than comedy”.
“I couldn’t let this settle out of court” said Gonzales in his latest video on the subject, “this was so clearly a joke, I wasn’t going to let anyone tell me it wasn’t”. Though the video is celebratory and positive, fans have noticed his more withered appearance and sad eyes. One commenter on Twitter wrote “he looks so hurt, something like that would shake a person to their core”. Another one wrote “I really feel for the guy, it’s like his whole worldview has been shattered”.
Mr Jones declined to comment on the situation.
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2023.06.02 06:55 costumesinaus Everything You Need To Know About The Flappers
| If you want to invest in the 1920s flapper costume, it is important to know more about the flappers. Flappers of the 20s were young ladies known for their freedom and embracing a lifestyle that was viewed as outrageous by a lot of people. It was also viewed as dangerous and immoral. The independence of women Various factors such as cultural, political and technological led to the rise of flappers. During the First World War, numerous women entered the workplace, getting higher wages that a lot of working ladies weren’t inclined to give up their peacetime. The independence of women took a different step in August 1920. During this period, there was the 19th Amendment which gave women the right to vote. In the early 20s, Margaret Sanger made steps in providing contraceptives to women and this sparked a wave of women's rights to family planning. The mass production of cars by Henry Ford brought down the prices of automobiles, allowing the younger generation more mobility compared to the earlier eras. A lot of people, including women, drove these vehicles into cities. https://preview.redd.it/8p6gu519dj3b1.jpg?width=1080&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b024a33752db902cbd5ed502e2d750485b82627f The flapper It is not clear how the word flapper became a common slang in America, but the usage of the word flapper appeared just after World War I. The flapper has a classic image that portrays a stylish young party girl. Also, flappers drank alcohol, smoked in public, and danced at jazz clubs. Flapper dress Depending on your point of view, flappers were infamous or famous. They donned fashionable dresses of shorter lengths than what was common during that era. So if you want to buy costumes online, it is essential to know that the flapper dresses or skirts were not as short as people depicted them. They only revealed the calves and not the thighs. During this time, it was shorter than almost every outfit around. Flappers in advertising Recognised that ladies now had disposable incomes, advertising courted their interests beyond normal household items. Perfumes, soap, cigarettes, cosmetics, and fashion accessories were the subjects of advertisements targeting ladies. The flapper style regularly graced magazine covers. Criticism of flappers It is important to understand that not everyone was a fan of the newfound sexual freedom of women. There was a public reaction against the rise of flappers. Women who populated beaches in their bathing suits were deemed inappropriate and were told to leave the beach by the police or escorted if they declined. Clergymen such as Pastor John Roach and Rabbi Stephen were known for their criticism of flapper fashion. Flappers also got criticism from activists advocating for women’s rights such as Lillian Symes and Charlotte Perkings. End of flappers While people style buy the 1920s flapper costume up to date, their popularity declined in 1929 October. There was a stock market crash. No one could afford that lifestyle and the new era made the freewheeling hedonism of the twenties seem out of touch with new economic realities. A lot of film star flappers had met their end two years earlier with people talking about the film, which wasn’t always kind. submitted by costumesinaus to u/costumesinaus [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 06:37 critical_courtney [A Bargain for Bliss] — Chapter Ten (Sequel to The Fae Queen's Pet)
| https://preview.redd.it/cnhmfefy9j3b1.jpg?width=1410&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=d762824a51aed78f4cc9200da8eb5d908d8292d0 Previous Chapter Chapter Ten: Heading back from axe combat training with Ceras, I detoured and headed to the lakeshore instead of the palace. Though I was right outside the gate, I wasn’t too interested in heading inside yet. I wanted to sit in the sand and grass and wait to see if a ship carrying my girlfriend would sail by. It’d been a few weeks since Lily left Perth by boat for an assignment in the Tulip Court, and I’d missed her terribly since. My bed was awful lonely, and I missed the late-night conversations we used to stay up and have, legs intertwined as we shared a chair and ate popcorn together. Of course, I loved finally getting to spend some time with the queen as she’d been busy working on her proposal for Bliss. But Lily was a different kind of energy, and she occupied a separate piece of my heart, one that ached for her. Pulling my legs up to my chest, I remembered that we’d be leaving for Kilgara, where every court in Faerie would meet on neutral ground while the rulers of each land decided who would host the upcoming Bliss. I was to remain in my wolf form the entire time from the moment we left Featherstone until we returned for my protection of course. Supposedly, I would be harder to attack or capture when I weighed 200 pounds and had razor-sharp fangs and claws. And I’m sure my inner wolf would appreciate the long spur to stretch her legs as we traveled beside the queen and put every wandering stare her way in its place. That was two days from now, of course. And now. . . was now. In the moment, my heart, a piece of it, anyway, felt lonely. It missed the fae that connected with me on a more human level than the maelstrom of glamour that was her majesty. While I sat there watching the occasional redeye buckfish leap from the water to catch a dragonfly on the surface, I heard a certain piskie approaching from the palace. Barsilla’s wings buzzed as she flew around and into view, carrying the little clipboard she always had with her. “Oh, hey Barsilla. Did you need something?” I asked, lifting my chin from my arms where it’d been resting while I sat there. Varella’s left-hand lady cocked her head to the side, looked down at some tiny scribbling she had, and then stared back up at me. “Ceras mentioned you seemed extra moody during your combat training today, and now I find you out here moping by the lake.” I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not moping,” I said, with all the convincing tone of a teenager stamping her foot. “I’m just. . . resting after a hard workout. That’s not illegal in the Raven Court, is it?” Barsilla rolled her eyes like a mother dealing with a sulking teen. Dammit, what was that suddenly all I could think about? “Your mortal emotions aren’t something the queen can afford to be distracted by right now, especially not with the summit coming up. And make no mistake, she will be distracted if she catches you moping. So, you might as well tell me what’s wrong so I can waste my time fixing it and avoid any diversions on the queen’s part,” the piskie said. I let out a sigh and turned my attention back to the lake because my problem was simple to describe and impossible for Barsilla to fix. . . unless her magic included the ability to summon my girlfriend at the drop of a hat. “I miss Lily. That’s all,” I said, putting my chin back down. Barsilla opened her mouth and then closed it again. She thought before speaking, but I don’t think it did her a lot of good because she was still going to inevitably be a jerk about this. “By the gods, you’re such a needy puppy!” Then she rolled her eyes a second time. “But that is a problem easily fixed. Follow me,” she said, and I stood, wondering what she intended to do. Barsilla led me back into the palace and into a room I’d never been in before. Feathers stood outside the room protecting it but slide aside for Barsilla and me without a word. The room we walked into was filled with paintings of ravens, crows, and magpies. Some sat in trees, some by rivers, and others under bushes, scavenging for fallen nuts and berries. There must have been about 20 paintings in different styles ranging from lifelike portraits to impressionist scenes. “What is this place?” I asked, still looking around at all the artwork. “This is the Hall of Winged Messengers. Our queen will sometimes use these birds to contact others discreetly,” Barsilla said, coming to rest in the seat of a large red velvet chair. “She uses. . . the paintings to talk to other people?” I asked, scratching the back of my head and trying to picture how that would work. Varella’s left-hand lady shook her head. But I did notice that she didn’t roll her eyes this time. That was progress. . . for me anyway. I tended to ask a lot of stupid questions. Or at least, questions faeries would find ignorant because I didn’t know any better. Deciding to teach by example, Barsilla instructed me to select a bird and walk over to the painting it sat in. I still didn’t know what the hell I was doing, so I found a magpie with black and white feathers and blue-tipped wings. The painting it sat in showed the bird huddled between several wildflowers, perhaps hunting for something to make a nest with. “Hold out your hand in front of the bird and say, ‘Queen Varella commands you to carry my words.’” I wasn’t sure what would happen, but I slowly held out my right hand in front of the painting, palm up flat. Then I said, “Queen Varella commands you to carry my words.” At first, nothing happened. And I gave Barsilla a look of suspicion. Was she making a joke of me? It would be like the fae to pull a prank like this on a mortal unfamiliar with their ways. She just motioned that I turn back to the painting. When I did, a magpie hopped off the canvas, suddenly springing to life in a three-dimensional world. It flew off the artwork as if the oil paint was being rewound in time, returning to its paintbrush. But instead of turning back into paint, the animal kept its form and hopped down into my open hand. I felt its thin twig-like talons hop across my hand as its head tilted from side to side. The bird looked like it was waking up from a long hibernation. Then it looked up at me with its red eyes, black dotted pupils focussed directly on my face. Looking back at the canvas, I noticed the bird missing from its scenery. Only the wildflowers and sky remained. The magpie continued to hop around in my hand, stretching its wings and turning its head this way and that. “I. . . is this a real bird?” I asked, looking at the piskie that was just half the magpie’s size sitting across the room from me. She hovered closer, and I expected the animal to see her as prey given their size difference. But the magpie made no move to leave my hand. “That bird is made from the queen’s glamour, as you carry in your wolfheart. Only those with her majesty’s magic can call forth these birds and send them out into the world,” Barsilla said, motioning to the other ravens and crows. It was a room full of carrion callers. Despite my expectations that the bird would start chirping or cawing in some way, I found the animal strangely silent. It might occasionally look away, but otherwise, the magpie seemed to do nothing more than observe me. “So. . . how does this work exactly?” I asked. “Am I going to write a message on a tiny piece of paper, and this magpie will carry it to Lily? Like on Game of Thrones?” Barsilla furrowed her brow. “This isn’t a game, pet. And you don’t need to use a throne to send your message either. I swear, you mortals say the weirdest things. The first thing you need to do is hold the magpie up to your chest.” “Why?” “So it can hear who your heart beats for, who you want to send a message to. I still find it strange that not only does our queen have a soft spot for a mortal, but she’s also willing to share her puppy with her subordinate. Still, it’s not my place to question her,” Barsilla said. I slowly held the magpie up to my chest as instructed. Part of me felt like I was still being pranked. But the magpie just hopped over to my pinky finger and placed its ear against my breast, closing its eyes and listening to my heartbeat. “I will question you, though, royal pet. Describe for me your heart when you think of Lily. Then tell me how it compares to when you think about your mistress. I simply can’t imagine being in love with both of them, a queen, and a spy,” Barsilla asked. When the bird was finished listening to my heartbeat, it skipped back into the center of my palm and started watching me again, presumably waiting for whatever message I was going to give the bird to carry. And it wasn’t bad enough that I had to figure out the exact words I wanted to send to Lily. I had to answer prying questions from Barsilla about my feelings? Fuck. Even I didn’t understand my feelings half the time. Polyamory was a new thing for me. Being gay took me long enough to understand. I mean — I understood on some level what it meant to look at girls in my high school and think, Fuck, she’s so pretty. The way talking to a crush left my heart jogging in place like it was warming up for a marathon took weeks and months to sort out. Then I had to try to figure out if a girl felt the same way about me, and fuck was that even more difficult. But I did figure it out eventually. Now here I was still trying to figure out how to love two women at the same time when each made my heart quiver in different ways. They made other parts of me quiver as well. But that was neither here nor there. And Barsilla wanted, what? An essay on how they made me feel? Shit. I’d have an easier time lecturing her on quantum physics. “What do you want me to say?” I asked. “I want you to tell me how two fae ladies I’ve known for much longer than you make a werewolf howl in heat,” Barsilla said. I scoffed. No way was I telling the piskie things Varella and Lily had done to make me howl in ecstasy. But the more I thought about it, I realized she wasn’t asking about deeds, but emotions. Fae weren’t like mortals. Their understanding of our emotions and motivations was limited to what they observed when they took a vacation in the realm where time still flows. That’s part of the reason I connected so deeply to Lily. She was half-human, and that meant it was easier to talk to her about my fears and dreams, really lay them out on the bed sheets in front of her. And she understood. Gods, she understood. Maybe that was what Barsilla wanted here. . . to understand. “Well. . . Lily — see — she makes me feel like there’s no one in the world except for us when we’re together. Like reality and all its problems and the people who make them are so far removed because she’s taken my hand and guided me to a place of gentle love and sweetness.” The piskie wrote something down on her clipboard and nodded. “And your mistress? How does she make you feel?” Taking a deep breath, I considered the morning we’d had a couple days ago. “My mistress. . . she makes me feel like I’m in the eye of a hurricane. All the power in the world to destroy anything that tries to do me harm while I’m kept safe and sound at the center of the storm. With her, I feel like I’m going to be swept away at any moment, but when it happens, the place I’ll be swept to is in her arms. And I trust that whether I’m on the ground or in the sky she’ll protect me.” Barsilla smiled as she took more notes. “What was all that about?” I asked, cocking my head to the side like the magpie in my hand. She finished writing something and then looked back up at me. “Now you know exactly how you feel about each of them. No more wishy-washy shit humans do. Love each of them with the full confidence that you can love two people at the same time and be loved by each of them simultaneously.” With that, she started to fly over toward the door. Barsilla stopped just before opening the exit and looked back my way. “When you’re ready to send your message, hold the magpie up into your direct gaze and speak to it as if it were Lily. The moment you look away or lose focus, it’ll fly away to carry your message, regardless of whether you were finished.” Then, Varella’s left-hand lady left me alone with the magpie. I felt a little nervous about getting my message cut off. It didn’t take much to distract me. I suppose that was something I had in common with the corvid I was holding. My brain could think, shiny! at a moment’s notice. Perhaps that’s how I fell in love with two different faeries in the first place. But instead of getting distracted, I thought about my girlfriend, the lesbian faerie I missed cuddling with every single night, the gay girl who wasn’t just part of my dreams, but my waking world as well. Holding up the magpie about a foot from my face, I looked deep into its crimson eyes and said: “Dear Lily, I miss you more than you can know. And I hope the bird that tracks you down over in the Tulip Court doesn’t make me sound too clingy. I’ve yet to see how fae react to clinginess. But in case it’s negative, do me a favor and pretend this message is a lot more breezy and cool than it actually is. “Featherstone feels lonely without you. I’m happy when I’m with my mistress, but in other moments, my heart pines for the girl who plays board games with me in my room and holds me close when I bolt awake after a nightmare about my father until I come back to reality, safe and sound. “But I know your mission is important. I would never ask you to come home early and risk disappointing our queen. So instead I’ll just ask two things. First, think of me in the moments when that mask you wear feels a little too tight and smothering. Remember that I’m here waiting for you in a place where you just get to be Lily, my girlfriend. Not a wing for the Raven Court. Second, come back to me safely. Because even though I know you’ve been doing this for years, and you’re the best spy my mistress has. . . I might still worry. “Oh, and bring me back a cool Tulip Court souvenir if you can. Maybe a tulip? Actually — scratch that, magpie. That’s three things, and I said I’d only ask two. Seriously. Don’t repeat this part to my girlfriend. It’ll make me look stupid, like I don’t know how to use a winged messenger. So you’re not gonna say this last part, right?” I was interrupted by the sound of Barsilla’s raucous laughter coming from outside in the hallways and looked away for a split second, fearing she’d overheard me. When I looked back, only a single black and white feather remained in my hand. “Aw, shit.” submitted by critical_courtney to redditserials [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 06:21 TP-formy-BungHole Just got this in the mail a few minutes ago. It says I have until May 31st 2023 to send a written statement in support or objection to the settlement. It’s June already.. Anyone else receive one of these?
2023.06.02 05:56 NeedleworkerSad357 Overview of the Blackmail Running Our World
This post is an overview of the blackmail tactics used to control most of the influential people and governments around the world. Obviously I cannot cover everything in a single post, so as with my previous posts I highly encourage you to research further yourself. All sources and links are at the bottom of the post. An understanding of what trauma-based mind control programming (MKULTRA/MONARCH) is, and how it works, is again necessary to understanding much of this. My other posts here:
The world is run on blackmail, mind control, and shame.
There exist many collections of videotapes of 'high-up' people engaging in some of the worst, sickest things imaginable. Drugs, torture, pedophilia, and murder are common themes to these videos. These tapes are in the hands of many different people, groups, and especially intelligence agencies. 'Honey-trap' operations are constantly being run to gather compromising and incriminating evidence on people of importance. Child slaves will be used to compromise people on video. Global leaders are often covertly videotaped doing perverted things with sex slaves sent to them by intelligence agencies, the Illuminati, or other groups, and this is then leveraged. Rape and murder of a child (forced or not), one of the most repulsive things possible, is many times filmed to ensure future compliance.
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Back in 1966, Rothstein became the first police detective assigned to investigate the prostitution industry. Almost immediately he discovered an underground sexual blackmail operation that compromised politicians with child prostitutes. ‘Human Compromise’ is what he labelled the honey-trap process. Rothstein and his colleagues found that approximately 70 percent of top US Government leaders were compromised in this way. Rothstein said, the CIA conducted the human compromise operation, while the FBI was tasked with covering up any leaks."
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One of the things I found out over the last ten years of studying governments and listening to intelligence and counter-intelligence is that those in government are sexually compromised, and their sexual secrets are collected and then they are promoted into governments and into judiciaries and into all the positions of importance. Paedophilia is the preferred dirt as it is easily photographed, easily presented in a range of media, immensely shameful, and the public demands your resignation."
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Paul Bonacci, one of the victim-witnesses in the Franklin affair, also clearly stated Larry King used him in blackmail operations in New York and Washington. The latter was in connection with the activities of a close associate of Larry King, Craig Spence, who was involved in a prostitution ring consisting of underaged boys that were supplied to Washington's upper class, which went right up to the White House."
- The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks [11]
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Sexually bent politicians in denial of their sexuality to the public are a threat to their own country and policies. They are easily setup, photographed, politically bribed, toppled, and supported in the destruction of their country. This method of altering a country’s policies is epidemic and now endemic to politics."
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Bob (Hope) was politically connected and knew how to lure people in and insure they would work for him. He invited them to his parties and dangled various kinds of illegal or immoral perversions in their faces. Once their perversions were uncovered, he could blackmail or control them. That is how Bob worked. Bob was very good at this. I watched him do it to people over and over. He lured them in, detected their weaknesses, then used that knowledge in his favor, for his connections, and ultimately for his personal gain."
These blackmail 'practices' are often used in conjunction with trauma-based mind control. This mind control is an integral component of, and is deeply intertwined with child trafficking, sex slavery, Satanic ritual abuse, and many other horrific crimes. Many of the children used for blackmail are programmed, and many of the people being blackmailed (including (sometimes future) politicians, leaders, presidents, etc.)
are also programmed themselves.
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My personal belief, based on my experiences, is that over the years, more leaders were under mind control."
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Fritz Springmeier notes that 'It is a standard tactic of the Illuminati, their New World Order and its various branches to use fear and blackmail to bring people into line.' Cheryl Beck had a 'sexy Sadie' program that was used to blackmail government and military people as a child prostitute seductress. Cathy O’Brien’s daughter Kelly was 'being prostituted to the CIA for blackmail purposes.' Svali notes that using child prostitutes to blackmail political leadership outside of the Illuminati was very common."
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Beryl-Green said Epstein knew about MKULTRA. He was into mind-controlling victims and satanic ritual abuse (SRA). Epstein was into DNA mixing, human cloning and he knew about New World Order plans."
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This dirty game has been honed to a fine art, which is a standard feature of the Illuminati/intelligence groups. The CIA term for blackmail is an 'OK FIX.' When they use a person’s past sins to force someone to do something they refer to this as 'biographic leverage.' Any weak point in a person can and will be exploited. Sexual entrapment for blackmail is referred to as a 'HONEY TRAP'. Black widow alters are being trained and sent out for this purpose. In order to blackmail, or threaten, you have to have something to threaten the person with. Men are frequently entrapped by sexual behavior which is criminal. Sometimes they are also entrapped by murder. The Monarch slave will be allowed to have children so that they can be blackmailed into complying to save the children or grandchildren. The Monarch slave in turn may be used to blackmail others. Certain alters are trained in this. A Monarch Beta model is highly trained in seduction. Many politicians and ministers are operating under blackmail today. The extent that blackmail is being used by the NWO would boggle people’s minds. Porn films are taken of the Monarch victims, so that they can be used to blackmail the victim. Monarch victims are forced to commit ritual murders which are photographed and then used to blackmail the mind-controlled victim."
Intelligence agencies all over the world utilize blackmail, routinely employing and exploiting it as much as possible. It is an extremely important 'tool' of theirs. Operations are done to gather the incriminating evidence.
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Other 'neutralisations' verge on the bizarre. An individual who must remain nameless for a variety of reasons - but whose name is known to this writer - underwent an experience that is both horrific and chilling. I shall call this individual 'Mr. X' or, simply, 'X'. Mr. X was a leader of one of the largest CIA-backed Contra groups. He recently testified before the US Senate Intelligence Committee. Formerly, X was a senior executive in a South American subsidiary of a leading US soft drinks corporation. During his Senate testimony, he denied any knowledge of CIA involvement in the narcotics trade, adding that condoning such activity would have been foreign to his way of life. Not so, says Tatum. Mr. X had been recruited into the CIA by then-Director William Casey, with the assistance of Oliver North. In 1990, when Nicaraguan leader Daniel Ortega announced there would be 'free elections', X was ecstatic. He began jostling for position and asked President Bush to ensure he be given a prominent position in the new government - in return for his years of toil at the behest of the CIA and the Enterprise. The pressure came in a form that Bush could not ignore. Failure to help his friend would result in X's intimate knowledge of Bush's involvement in the dope trade being made public. His threat left Bush with a sour taste. A Pegasus team was assigned to 'neutralise' him in early 1990. Mr. X, Tatum states, 'fancied himself a lover of women. Tall, large-breasted blondes were his favourite. It was determined that, if effectively neutralised, [X] could be an asset. Therefore, it was decided that intimidation would be used to control [X].' They chose to use the drug Scopolamine, which also went by the nickname 'Burundanga' or 'the Voodoo drug'. The drug is extracted from the pods of a flowering shrub that grows in remote regions of South America. In its processed, powdered form, Scopolamine is 'void of smell, void of taste'. When properly administered 'it causes absolute obedience' without this being 'observable by others'. Importantly, the target will not recall any of the events that occurred during the period they were under the spell of the drug. Tatum states that X was invited to spend a relaxing weekend at a luxury hotel as a guest of his friend George Bush. His host for the weekend was a trusted 18-year veteran field-intelligence officer. The evening started with cocktails and was followed by a fine meal. ''Nothing but the best' were the orders.' Following the meal, he was ushered into the suite of a 'blonde bombshell' supplied by the CIA. Mr. X had already ingested a dose of Burundanga during pre-dinner cocktails. X was gallant with the blonde as they both moved into the bedroom where video cameras were already set up in one corner. In short order, the blonde had X standing naked in front of her and began to indulge his desires. All the while, the video cameras whirred. Slowly stripping off, the 'blonde' revealed his manhood in all its glory. Mr. X was instructed to reciprocate the favour and perform fellatio. He obliged, his intimate activities recorded at 24 frames a second on videotape. Tatum says the male prostitute was hired from a bar in New York and killed that same evening. Two weeks later, X - wholly unaware of the events of that evening - was visited in Nicaragua. He was presented with a copy of the video footage, along with instructions. Tatum says that X can never allow that video to be seen: 'Not only does it reveal his homosexuality, but it also reveals his bestiality and satanic worship rituals.' As frame after frame flicked by, X reportedly wept, forced to watch himself kill his homosexual 'lover' and then engage in the most grisly cannabalistic ritual imaginable. Neutralised, Mr. X became a leading member of the Nicaraguan government a few short weeks later."
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Check out the FBI records on Scarlett: What was his original HOOK that got him so deeply embedded into UK Illuminati culture? He murdered the nanny of Lord Lucan in the 1970's. Lucan wasn't actually involved. Scarlett got it wrong. He was under mind control at the time. How we all laughed on his training sessions when we heard that one. Not funny, really. We were all in the same boat. Each had something terrible attached to us, in our past. That is all part and parcel of the Illuminati contract. Young people forced under mind control to commit murder when young and then later on, picked up by British Intelligence to be used and abused as they wished - as loyal servants of the British Crown. One can only hope that by exposing these HOOKS, that some sort of amnesty can prevail. If these people are freed from the demonic Illuminati contract by exposing their HOOKS - one can only hope that they will come forward as a sizeable and influential body of political and public figures, in order to put an end to it. Here's hoping. Check out Rimington's hook to see what sort of mind ran MI5 for so long. It's a game called 'mafia' and it is ALL about blackmail."
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...He had previously signed off on Epstein’s 'sweetheart deal' because Epstein 'had belonged to intelligence.' Acosta, then serving as US attorney for Southern Florida, had also been told by unspecified figures at the time that he needed to give Epstein a lenient sentence because of his links to 'intelligence.'"
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Detective Rothstein found that the CIA were behind a blackmail operation in which child prostitutes were used to honey-trap and compromise politicians, military brass, top businessmen, and key government officials. Rothstein, who arrested the key Watergate perpetrator, said Watergate solely concerned this human compromise racket, and specifically was an attempt to obtain a list of compromised pedophile VIPs and their proclivities that was held at the Democratic National Headquarters."
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Michael Aquino was in the military. He had top Pentagon clearances. He was a pedophile. He was a Satanist. He founded the Temple of Set. And he was a close friend of Anton LaVey. The two of them were very active in ritualistic sexual abuse. And they deferred funding from this government program to use in this experimentation on children. Where they deliberately split off the personalities of these children into multiples, so that when they're questioned or put under oath or questioned under lie detector, that unless the operator knows how to question a multiple-personality disorder, they turn up with no evidence. They used these kids to sexually compromise politicians or anyone else they wish to have control of...they were taken to be used by professional pedophiles. People that have the money to buy what they want, take the kids wherever they want...and by splitting the children’s personalities they could then train each one of the personalities to do a different function. And the rest of the personalities within that host personality would not be aware of it or remember it."
- Noreen Gosch, Johnny Gosch's mother (of the 'Franklin Boys') [1]
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Vinson also told Nick Bryant that Spence and Larry King were 'partners' and 'hooked up with the CIA', stating specifically that 'King and Spence were in business together, and their business was pedophilic blackmail.' They were transporting children all over the country. They would arrange for children to be flown into Washington, DC and also arrange for influential people in DC to be flown out to the Midwest and meet these kids. Per Vinson, Larry King had confided in him that he had clients who liked to torture and even kill children: 'King said they had clients who actually liked having sex with kids as they tortured or killed the kid. I found that totally unbelievable.' After Vinson said this to Nick Bryant, he asked Bryant later on in the interview if King’s disclosure had indeed been true. He was unaware at the time that other evidence, including witness testimony, had suggested that it was."
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According to fugitive ex-CIA officer Frank Terpil, CIA-directed sexual blackmailing operations were intensive in Washington at about the time of the Watergate scandal. One of those operations, Terpil claims, was run by his former partner, Ed Wilson. Wilson's base of operations for arranging trysts for the politically powerful was, Terpil says, Korean agent Ton Sun Park’s George Town Club. In a letter to the author, Terpil explained that ‘Historically, one of Wilson’s Agency jobs was to subvert members of both houses [of Congress] by any means necessary. Certain people could be easily coerced by living out their sexual fantasies in the flesh...A remembrance of these occasions was permanently recorded via selected cameras...The technicians in charge of filming were TSD [Technical Services Division of the CIA]...The unwitting porno stars advanced in their political careers, some of whom may still be in office.'"
- The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks [11]
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Intelligence and counter intelligence ‘work’, and they ‘work together’ to create scenarios that are so unbelievable that they cannot be published in the mainstream media, and if they are, they will appear like a joke. The information to blackmail a country, to blackmail its politicians, to blackmail its Prime Ministers and Presidents, to blackmail its judges and lawyers is a very serious matter."
The Illuminati and other cults also engage in the same blackmail operations. There is a
huge overlap between secret societies/cults and intelligence, with top intelligence usually being run by them. All of them do this.
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I was able to have first hand access to the Jeffrey Epstein case investigation documents. According to the documents, Epstein was the head of a global fraternity related to the Shriners called The Royal Order of Jesters. This order is covered with scandals and lawsuits related to human trafficking, but they are very protected because many members of the order are high-profile political figures and businessmen. It is crazy how these people manage to operate under the radar for so many years, decades...Now you may ask how they do this? Easy...By using blackmail tactics, they manage to have Judges and Law Enforcement licking their feet. That's how Jeffery Epstein got assassinated. After he was out of the game, the whole business is run by other people. Major names are involved and many high-profile people who are all bound to the order by means of blackmail. This is particularly disturbing when you find out that the cases of Catholic priests involved in sex scandals are events organized by The Order of Jesters. They run blackmail operations with the purpose of seducing people in power...With those videos in their power, the careers and the public image of many people are in the Jester's hands. They are free to do anything, they can turn even the President of the United States into a slave."
-- "Jeffrey Epstein Post" [7]
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Illuminati 'FROG ON A LILYPAD' programming: The FROG as a paedophile - with no 'tadpole tail/tale', as in no memory of what he/she has done until they get past 40 years old. It becomes clear that so many people were forced to be paedophiles and to abuse their children - only to wake up to all of this later on - post 40 years old. Then to have Stella Rimington on their doorstep with a videotape - telling them that she will send it to the police if they do not do precisely what she says. The ultimate blackmail weapons combined: A tape of you committing paedophilia - and even worse - incest with your own children. Guaranteed to 'silence' most people for life. The scope of this Illuminati blackmail project has been immense, in British society and it has to be exposed. There is safety in numbers."
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(Sue) Arrigo adds that the kids with the most smarts and/or looks, about 5% are skimmed off the top by the Luciferians in charge like the Bushes and used as either spies or corporate sex slaves or both. They’re typically pimped out on high priced loans to influential politicians as house boy and girls to ensure the puppets in Congress are happy and blackmail-able for control."
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The Masonic leadership of Freemasonry in a given area will have thousands of 'blackmail' files on essentially everyone of importance in their area. Upper echelon people such as judges, lawyers, and politicians are generally controlled via IRS infringements, and many of the lower echelon people are controlled through weird sexual items. This is where the Delta and Beta Monarch slaves are so helpful to the Illuminati. (This information comes from several witnesses who are informed about the blackmail files & their methods for blackmailing.)"
These people are already in power, and have set their system up so that nobody rises to a prominent, powerful, or influential position without being selected, extensively compromised, controllable, and usually under mind control. They are all 'in it together', and because of this they protect eachother. Most have 'insurance' on one another.
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The most common phrase associated with that one was ‘talk about the pot calling the kettle black’, meaning that each Illuminati slave had been caught on camera and from an early age – doing something terrible – as Rimington was fond of saying ‘we are all as bad as each other and all in it together.’"
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Oftentimes when I and others were prostituted to various government (New World Order) leaders, Dante had hidden cameras filming perverse sexual acts apparently for future blackmail leverage. These videos were scandalous in proportion and were usually ordered by Reagan. Dante turned the videos over to Reagan, and covertly kept copies to protect himself. Dante converted a small room of his Beverly Hills mansion into a security vault, where he kept his personal copies of the international blackmail porn tapes there. Blackmail was openly initiated to ensure that each criminal participant understood that if one fell, they all fell. Maintaining 'dirt' on each other through this Mafia-style method was seemingly the only way these criminals implementing the New World Order kept each other 'honest.'"
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The Watergate break-in was strictly based on one thing - the pedophile records that were being kept at the Democratic National Headquarters."
- Detective James Rothstein (NYPD, Retired) [6]
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In 1972, Rothstein arrested one of the five Watergate burglars, CIA operative Frank Sturgis. During a subsequent two-hour interrogation, Rothstein discovered the truth about Watergate (plus Sturgis’ and the CIA’s involvement in the Bay of Pigs incident, and the related assassination of JFK). Sturgis told Rothstein, the Watergate burglars sought something they nicknamed ‘The Book’ which listed the Democratic and Republican politicians who accessed child prostitutes, their sexual proclivities, the amounts they paid to rape kids, etc."
There are certain places known for this, two famous examples being Little St. James island or Bohemian Grove (there are many, many others).
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For those of you who are interested in Bohemian Grove and the current list upon the Internet of those poor unsuspecting 'invitees' who will be pressganged into going (and subsequently blackmailed out of their minds afterwards, by the Illuminati)...the entrapment going on at Bohemian Grove is of an avaricious and esoteric nature - in relation to all of those unlucky 'invitees' who want to join this 'prestigious club' but then get videoed doing things that they wouldn't want anyone to know about - 'guests' who are then subsequently blackmailed out of their brains...and for the rest of their lives. But then that was what the Illuminati cult and their Sat B'hai contract has always been about...promising that you would get everything for nothing (if you agreed to be unquestioningly obedient to the Crown) and that you would now be part of an 'esoteric' prestigious Satanic club."
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Numerous videos are covertly produced at the supposedly secure political sex playground in northern California, Bohemian Grove. High tech undetectable cameras use fiber optics, and fish-eye lenses were in each of the elite club's numerous sexual perversion theme rooms. I was programmed and equipped to function in all rooms at Bohemian Grove in order to compromise specific government targets according to their personal perversions. 'Anything, anytime, anywhere with anyone' was my mode of operation at the Grove. My perception is that Bohemian Grove serves those ushering in the New World Order through mind control, and consists primarily of the highest Mafia and U.S. Government officials. Project Monarch mind controlled slaves were routinely abused there to fulfill the primary purpose of the club: purveying perversion. Bohemian Grove is reportedly intended to be used recreationally, providing a supposedly secure environment for politically affluent individuals to 'party' without restraint. The only business conducted there pertained to implementing the New World Order, through the proliferation of mind-control atrocities, giving the place an air of 'Masonic Secrecy'. The only room where business discussions were permitted was the small, dark lounge affectionately and appropriately referred to as the Underground. The wooden sign was carved to read: 'U.N.DERGROUND'. My purpose at the Grove was sexual in nature, and therefore my perceptions were limited to a sex slave's viewpoint. As an effective means of control to ensure undetected proliferation of their perverse indulgences, slaves such as myself were subjected to ritualistic trauma. Slaves of advancing age or with failing programming were sacrificially murdered 'at random' in the wooded grounds of Bohemian Grave, and I felt it was 'simply a matter of time until it would be me'. Rituals were held at a giant, concrete owl monument on the banks of the Russian River. These occultish sex rituals stemmed from the scientific belief that mind-controlled slaves required severe trauma to ensure compartmentalization of the memory. I witnessed the sacrificial death of a young, dark-haired victim at which time I was instructed to perform sexually 'as though my life depended upon it'. I was told, 'The next sacrifice victim could be you.' The club offered a 'Necrophilia' themed room to its members. I was so heavily drugged and programmed when used in the 'necrophilia' room, that the threat of actually 'slipping through death's door' and being sacrificed 'before I knew it' did not affect me. Other perversion theme rooms at the Bohemian Club included what I heard Ford refer to as the 'Dark Room'. When he not so cleverly said, 'Let's go to the Dark Room and see what develops,' I understood from experience that he was interested in indulging in his perverse obsession for pornography. In the Dark Room, members had sex with the same mind-controlled slave they were viewing in porn on a big screen television. There was a triangular glass display centered in a main through way where I was locked in with various trained animals, including snakes. Members walking by watched illicit sex acts of bestiality, women with women, mothers with daughters, kids with kids, or any other unlimited perverse visual display. I was once brutally assaulted by Dick Cheney in the Leather Room, which was designed like a dark, black leather-lined train berth. There was a room of shackles and tortures, black lights and strobes, an opium den, ritualistic sex altars, a chapel, group orgy rooms including poster beds, water beds, and 'kitten' houses. I was used as a 'rag doll' in the 'toy store,' and as a urinal in the 'golden arches' room. From the owl's roost to the necrophilia room, no memory of sexual abuse is as horrifying as the conversations overheard in the Underground pertaining to implementing the New World Order. I learned that perpetrators believed that controlling the masses through propaganda mind manipulation did not guarantee there would be a world left to dominate due to environmental and overpopulation problems. The solution being debated was not pollution/population control, but mass genocide of 'selected undesirables'."
News 'headlines' with hidden symbolic communication are also used by intelligence and other groups, many times referring to blackmail (among the many other varieties of covert operations).
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'Nuclear' is a comm used all over the world to symbolize extraordinarily explosive information, like blackmail. Which is why if we reconcile blackmail with news about nuclear, a secret truth will become clear. The two most powerful blackmailers ever? That would probably be Jeffrey Epstein and Hugh Hefner. And this is why the deaths of blackmailers like Hugh Hefner and Jeffrey Epstein both coincided with 'Nuclear Accidents':"
08/09/2019 Is Putin covering up a Nuclear disaster? - 08/09/2019 = Russia Hides a Nuclear Accident!
- 08/10/2019 = CIA Blackmailer Epstein Dead
- 09/26/2017 = Russia Hides a Nuclear Accident!
- 09/27/2017 = CIA Blackmailer Hefner Dead
09/26/2017 Nuclear explosion kept secret by Russia "
Why are CIA blackmailers dying the day after Russia declares nuclear accidents? The reason for the -1 day in Epstein’s case is they likely died before the official day, and these comms were to give agents a heads up on the upcoming BOOM before it hits papers. In Hefners case they had to signal people to move the blackmail. The point as stated is a lot of 'nuclear' is all about blackmail. Not all of it, but a lot of it."
- "Symbolic Communication" [9]
Blackmail is a worldwide 'practice', with all countries and their governments engaging in aquiring and utilizing it to the fullest.
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Just as the 1986 Mirano scandal, the X-Dossiers contain evidence that sexual blackmail operations, whoever is running them, are not limited to the United States. In 1996, X1 reported how the same activities had been going on in Brussels."
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As the bewildered Belgians tried to make sense of what was going on, incredible rumours began circulating that Dutroux might have been protected in some way, that he had friends in high places. Pornographic videos taken from his home were said to feature prominent individuals, one a senior member of the Roman Catholic church. It almost defied belief. Who would protect a psychopath, other than people with something truly terrible to hide?...'It is quite obvious,' said Katarin de Clercq, Belgian coordinator of the pressure group End Child Prostitution Abduction and Trafficking, 'that some people were protecting Dutroux. The government tried to convince us that he was a lone serial killer and psychopath, but now we hear stories about unnamed famous personalities being involved in sex orgies and blackmail and pornographic video tapes. People feel that something is completely wrong here and we have to show we will not tolerate it.'"
- The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks [11]
"
I was unfortunate enough to attend the IHS Templar Castle rite in 2001. Amongst the people in attendence were: J. K. Rowling. Gordon Brown. David Miliband. Stephen Daldry. Stella Rimington (she was the Dr. Mengele of the organisation, organising the torture and murder of kidnapped children). Dr. Joanne Collie. Andrew Marr (he spent most of the time naked and screaming - off his head on some form of narcotic). John Scarlett (he was so drunk/drugged up that he had very little idea of what was going on around him). The Templars had captured a large amount of people whom they called the 'snakes' i.e. slaves in a large dungeon underneath the castle. One brave person managed to set them free and the result in the neighbouring village of Mons and other places nearby, ensured that the British Army had to move in. Thus began the most incredible cover-up in recent European history. It was like WACO, Guyana. I was one of the 'slaves' taken at that castle but subsequently freed by the British Army (who also know what happened - a MASSIVE cover-up). The British Army ordered those in the Castle to come out. They then sent a tank in to bulldoze the walls. Prince Philip and Prince William were in that Castle. Both of them had murdered countless tiny children in their rites. The British Army assembled watched as both walked out with large, dark, woven potato sacks over their heads. They were then bundled into a van and driven away. The name SPUDNIKS was coined because Prince Philip and Prince William had to exit the castle with potato sacks pulled down over their heads and bodies. The British Army present at the time - may or may not have had any idea who they were but the SIS general there, certainly did. They might have managed to cover it up regarding the ordinary soldiers there but the videotapes are now on sale worldwide. The whole event had been closely monitored for blackmail purposes."
The CIA also blackmails incestual/pedophilic parents for their children to use in trauma-based mind control slave projects like
MONARCH.
"
My Uncle Bob, also implicated in manufacturing the porn, out of apparent desperation informed my father of a U.S. Government Defense Intelligence Agency TOP SECRET Project to which he was privy. This was Project Monarch. Project Monarch was a mind-control operation which was 'recruiting' multigenerational incest abused children with Multiple Personality Disorder for its genetic mind-control studies. I was a prime 'candidate,' a 'chosen one'. My father seized the opportunity as it would provide him immunity from prosecution."
"
The expendables are the children of parents who were blackmailed into turning their children over to the CIA. This is all hidden by the power of the National Security Act. These are children, who have been sold by pedophile fathers, or pornographic parents. The programmers/masters program them with the expectation that they will be "thrown from the freedom train" when they get to age 30. (Freedom Train is the code word for the Monarch trauma-based mind-control. To be thrown from the Freedom Train means to be killed.) The CIA and the Illuminati are skilled at blackmailing parents to give up their children. They would watch the mail for porn. Pedophile and murderers who abuse their children are warned that they will go to prison for long lengths of time if they do not cooperate by selling their children into mind-controlled slavery. In return for the parent’s cooperation, they provide rich financial rewards to the parent(s). It’s clearly a case of 'if you don’t cooperate you lose in life big time, if you do cooperate you win big time.'"
Blackmail is the glue holding together all of the sick people in charge, and is the one of the top methods of control.
This is the truth: blackmail, pedophilia, and mind control are how this world is really run. "
Former CIA director William Colby giving advice to John DeCamp, urging him to quit his investigations into the Franklin child abuse affair:"
"
'What you have to understand, John, is that sometimes there are forces and events too big, too powerful, with so much at stake for other people or institutions, that you cannot do anything about them, no matter how evil or wrong they are and no matter how dedicated or sincere you are or how much evidence you have. This is simply one of the hard facts of life you have to face.'"
- The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks [11]
"
Again, it’s built in, entrenched foxes guarding the predatory henhouse that permeate all levels of government, military, courts, law enforcement, entertainment and news media, corporate global finance and education. With pedophile puppet masters controlling the pedophile puppet strings of blackmailed, compromised and controlled Western politicians, courts and law enforcement, their diabolical infrastructure has afforded them living above the law continuing to rape and kill our innocents for centuries."
Links and Sources [1] -
Noreen Gosch Speaks About - Jeff Gannon, Johnny Gosch And The Attempted Theft Of Her Book 'Why Johnny Can't Come Home' [2] -
Master List of Quotes and Comments - Ex MI5/MI6 Agents and Royal Arch Illuminati slaves
[3] -
Trance-Formation of America [4] -
One Nation Under Blackmail [5] -
Thanks for the Memories [6] -
Eyes Wide Open [7] -
"I had access to classified documents about the Jeffrey Epstein case" [8] -
Child Trafficking, Ritual Sex Abuse & MK-ULTRA Are A Single Worldwide Operation, Run by the U.S., U.K. and AUS Secret Services [9]-
Symbolism Communication [10] -
An Illuminati Primer - Veronica Swift, Jessie Czebotar
[11] -
The Reality of Protected Child Abuse Networks [12] -
The Hallett Report No. 1 [13] -
The Pegasus File [14] -
Anatomy of the Luciferian Elite’s Global Child Sex Trafficking Pedophile Operations - Joachim Hagopian on CathyFoxBlog
[15] -
The Illuminati Formula Used To Create An Undetectable Mind Control Slave - Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler
[16] -
Deeper Insights Into the Illuminati Formula - Fritz Springmeier and Cisco Wheeler
[17] -
Hope Beryl-Green Article submitted by
NeedleworkerSad357 to
conspiracy [link] [comments]
2023.06.02 04:56 Comprehensive-Room42 PTSD - Exposure to CSAM
I have an upcoming C&P exam for Psych/PTSD due to repeated exposure to pictures and videos of CSAM (child sexual abuse material) while working in a legal office on active duty in the JAG Corps.
After reviewing large volumes of the horrendous material for court (thousands of images and videos), I frequently had no desire to be intimate with my spouse and my experience caused me to rethink having kids of my own.
Recently, I was asked to be a godfather to a baby girl being born in August, which has lead to nightmares and an inability to sleep. Also, whenever asked what I did in the military, I freeze up and have intrusive bad thoughts about the cases I worked on. Was recently referred to a psychologist who thought I exhibited symptoms of anxiety and depression.
Just curious if others have encountered this or other non-combat (or direct sexual trauma) induced PTSD, since I imagine it is less common?
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2023.06.02 04:50 alanamablamaspama [US-CA] [H] My Hero Academia Exclusives Sale! (Lowered prices) [W] PayPal, limited trades
Prices do not include shipping. I have soft protectors available for $1 each. Shipping within the US/territories only. Don’t like the price? Make an offer. The worst I can say is no. :)
ISO: Kyle Rayner NFT physical, Ted Lasso soda chase, Nacho Libre Chase, Persona 5 Joker common
Pics - MHA GameStop Box (sealed) - $60
- Todoroki GITD (Convention) - $32
- Deku GITD (EE) - $12
- Hero Killer Stain (Fall Convention) - $45
- Midnight (Galactic) - $12
- Tokoyami Metallic (GameStop) - $18
- Himiko Toga (AAA) - $12
- All For One (Big Apple) - $10
- Eri School Uniform (Hot Topic) - $10
- Ochaco (Funimation) - $33 (tiny spot damage on top)
Tenya Iida (GameStop) - $30 (tear on side corner) - SOLD
Nejire Hado (Spring Convention) - $110(tiny bend on back corner flap) - SOLD
Dabi (Fall Convention) - $85 (small stain on top, tiny indent on top flap) - SOLD
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2023.06.02 04:25 Silly_Description584 NSW Bar Exam: Take me to the bar?
I'm writing this while drenched in a sea of law books, court cases and multiple cups of coffee. I'm gearing up to face the Herculean task of sitting for the NSW Bar exam. It's been a long, exhilarating journey, but right now, it feels like I'm staring down a colossus.
As the dreaded date inches closer, my nerves have started to get the better of me. As much as I've been diligently studying, there's a wave of unease that's taking a serious toll on my confidence. I'm sure many of you can relate, remembering your own pre-exam anxieties.
I'm out of practice materials and frankly, going over the same material again and again is becoming redundant, less effective, and dare I say, disheartening.
So here's my plea: could any kind-hearted souls out there share (by message) any notes, sample papers, past exams or practice questions related to the NSW Bar exam? It doesn't matter how old or new they are. Any material would be invaluable. To make it worth your while, I promise to return the favour in the future! (whether it's sharing my own experience, contributing resources, or just being a sounding board for someone else). Happy to chat over coffee (Syd) or by message.
Thanks all!
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2023.06.02 04:16 darko886 Auto Insurance Contingent Fee Agreement
We were involved in an accident where we were rear ended (in Florida if that matters). I contacted an attorney after feeling back and neck pain. The attorney sent me to a specific doctor and to get physical therapy the same day. I then received the contingent fee agreement and had some questions. The agreement states that any unpaid medical bills remain the clients obligation, regardless of result, and that I will remain responsible for "all costs incurred on my behalf" regardless of outcome.
If the attorney keeps sending me to medical appointments, and lets say those end up being $5k, and they are able to recover $5k, don't I just end up losing money? Surely that's not how it works otherwise I don't think these lawsuits would be as prevalent, but that part seems odd. Also, what would the "costs incurred on my behalf" line be taking about?
I guess my main question is - is it common to lose money as the client in these situations after court fees and medical fees? I'm trying to decide if hiring the attorney is the right choice.
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2023.06.02 04:14 russtrick Welcome to America, where the legal system is stuck on Opposite Day 🖕🏼
| Yeah, this would have been helpful if I received it before the due date, but while that date is 5/31/23, today is 6/1/23. I checked my mail yesterday. Fuck “smart money” aka legal scamming on American soil… but yeah, “protect” us from crypto. Fuck the government for letting shit like this happen submitted by russtrick to amcstock [link] [comments] |
2023.06.02 03:00 AutoNewspaperAdmin [IN] - No arbitrariness, says Karnataka high court, rejects Xiaomi plea on Fema section Times of India
2023.06.02 02:43 AutoNewsAdmin [IN] - No arbitrariness, says Karnataka high court, rejects Xiaomi plea on Fema section
2023.06.02 02:36 adoptedschitt Avila Energy: A special situation with a large potential return
Avila Energy (CA: VIK, OTC: PTRVF), an established Canadian oil and gas producer, is on the verge of a potentially transformative merger that could bring immense rewards for its shareholders. The company has agreed to combine with Special Purpose Acquisition Company (SPAC) Insight Acquisition (NYSE: INAQ).
The proposed transaction, as detailed at the link below, will allow for Avila to up-list onto the Nasdaq, enhance its ongoing carbon-neutral business strategy, and further strengthen the capitalization of the company with an expected combined entity market cap of over $190 Million.
https://www.globenewswire.com/news-release/2023/04/03/2640013/0/en/Avila-Energy-Corporation-Expects-to-List-on-Nasdaq-Through-Business-Combination-with-Insight-Acquisition-Corp.html This article will discuss the specifics of the deal, Avila's potential to diversify its revenue stream, and how it presents a rare special situation investment opportunity that could potentially lead to a total return of 1450%.
A Breakdown of the Deal The Avila and Insight Acquisition merger is a complex one, but is potentially extremely lucrative for existing Avila shareholders. Under the agreement, Insight will continue from the State of Delaware to the Province of Alberta and acquire Avila in an amalgamation pursuant to a court-approved plan of arrangement under Alberta law.
According to the agreement, the fully diluted common shares of Avila, currently numbering 150,540,414, will be exchanged for 12,580,000 common shares of Insight Acquisition. This exchange ratio translates to about 11.97 shares of Avila for each share of Insight Acquisition.
Avila shareholders will own the following interest in the post-closing combined company:
100% Redemption (Proceeds retained from trust of US$ 1,250,000) 67.2% by Avila's shareholders;
50% Redemption (Proceeds retained from trust of US$15,781,215) 62.4% by Avila's shareholders;
0% Redemption (Proceeds retained from trust of US$29,062,430) 57.9% by Avila's shareholders.
At present, Avila shares trade at USD $0.0588 (5.88 cents), while Insight Acquisition shares trade at USD $10.23. However, given the merger and based on the exchange ratio, the post-merger price for each Avila share is projected to rise to around $0.855. This implies a staggering potential increase of up to 1450% for Avila shareholders, and forms the basis of the arbitrage opportunity that Avila presents as a special situation investment.
Avila Energy and Its Future Looking beyond the merger, Avila Energy presents an interesting opportunity as a stand-alone company
Avila's strategic growth plan is divided into three phases:
- Upstream, where it plans to invest towards becoming a low-cost, carbon-neutral energy producer.
- Downstream, diversifying its revenue stream through the development of direct-to-consumer sales, aiming to boost demand, margins, and profitability.
- Providing customers with the option to convert to Avila’s developing hydrogen-fueled solutions, expected to be commercially available in 2027, as part of its Corporate Vision.
The company has a diversified and growing portfolio of 100%-owned and operated wells, three oil and natural gas processing facilities, 150,000 acres of leased exploration rights, and over 300 kms of gathering and sales pipelines.
The P&L displays robust numbers with $3.08 M in net revenue, more than 50% margins, with the majority of the revenue attributable to clean burning natural gas.
Avila currently has a 2P valuation of CAD $30.7 Million and a 1P valuation of CAD $7.8 Million with a current market cap of CAD $8.9 Million. As of year-end 2022, the company also had CAD $6.5 Million of cash, CAD $2.067 Million of Debt, and a positive shareholder equity of CAD $53.17 Million. These third-party audited reserves, as presented below from Deloitte, are a vast value relative to the company’s current market cap.
Reserves Highlights Avila Energy’s reserves on a Proven + Probable basis (2P) for the Company is 5,256,100 BOE valued at CAD$30.734 million based on a net present value discounted 10% before income taxes (NPV10% BT).
The CAD $30.734 million is an estimate of future cash flows and do not necessarily represent fair market value and is supported by a sustainable capital program of CAD $10.432 million for proved reserves and CAD $17.517 million for proved plus probable reserves.
Clean Energy Future Moreover, beyond being a traditional oil company, Avila is set to launch its “Vertically Integrated Energy Business, through its partnership with MTT. Supported by over a decade of R&D, including Avila's equity investment in Micro Turbine Technology (MTT), this venture promises to leverage innovative cleantech. Avila is aiming to deliver its first direct-to-consumer energy sales in North America in 2023. It also is targeting net-zero tier 3 (scope 3) CO2 emission energy for consumers by 2027.
The EnerTwin is a small, environmentally friendly power plant that simultaneously produces heat and electricity using the smallest gas turbine in the world. It runs on natural gas, LPG, biomethane, and hydrogen mixes, and thereby facilitates the energy transition to a low-carbon future in buildings.
Avila Energy says it has purchased a license for the manufacturing and marketing of the EnerTwin in the North American market. Beginning in 2026, Avila plans to sell 50,000 EnerTwin systems in North America as part of an integrated offering that also includes the provision of energy to their end customers.
To achieve this goal, the company has laid out the following timeline:
- 2nd quarter of 2023 the preparation and filing of the application for the Canadian Standards Association (“CSA”) and Underwriter Laboratories (“UL”) Certifications for the EnerTwin in North America, based on past applications for CSA approval of KIWA certified equipment. The Company has estimated that this process is anticipated to 10-12 months in duration. 1st half of 2023 the commencement of pre-sales and servicing of the EnerTwin that are conditional on the Company attaining CSA and UL approval. In the event that the CSA and UL approval is not attained, the sales would be refunded to customers.
- The development of the Company’s manufacturing of the EnerTwin, including the assembly or 3rd part manufactured subassemblies and the final testing prior to shipping to the customer. The ramp up of this manufacturing facility is to be completed in parallel to the CSA approval, with the first 100 installations being demonstration installations to be replace by CSA approved equipment within targeted markets in North America utilizing the EnerTwin as KIWA Certified equipment.
- Initial contracts are anticipated to be executed 3 months after receiving CSA Certification.
The Company’s Vertically Integrated Energy Business is based on the following assumptions:
a) Power, Heat, Cooling and Daily Transportation in one invoice;
b) Reduce Consumers Carbon footprint by 40% and save the consumer money;
c) Mitigates concern for brownouts and protection from increasing transmission fees;
d) Fixed Contract plus only an annual inflation adjustment; and
e) Capacity to transition to Hydrogen in the future.
The Company’s long-term goal is to allocate a portion of its natural gas production to its newly acquired customers as a source of fuel with the cost of energy being billed to the customer at a fixed price plus an annual inflation rate adjustment. The Company’s strategy is to include the delivery of fuel and the maintenance, under long-term contracts that offers price stability. The Company plans to continue to still sell their current suite of customers in addition to the newly acquired customers from the Vertically Integrated Business.
The Company assumes early market development will qualify for government subsidies both in Canada and the United States as an efficient upgrade and or substitute for current heating and cooling. For example, the Company anticipates that the EnerTwin will qualify under the existing Canadian Greener Homes Program which will offer rebates on eligible home retrofits.
Conclusion: A Rare Opportunity Special situation investments like Avila's proposed SPAC up listing do not come often. They offer a chance for significant potential returns but are also complex and require a deep understanding of the specifics of the deal. For Avila shareholders, the potential upside of 1450% presents a remarkable opportunity. However, potential investors should conduct their own research and due diligence or consult with a financial advisor before making any decisions. With Avila's strong business foundation, ambitious future plans, and the exciting prospect of its up listing through the merger with Insight Acquisition, the future indeed looks bright.
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2023.06.02 00:30 Canttakeitanymoreman Living Nightmare: Tales of Chaos and Stress with an Inconsiderate Social Media Influencer Roommate
Subtitle: Terrible Living Conditions as Influencer Fails to Fulfill Basic responsibilities.
In an age dominated by social media, where virtual personas thrive and influencers rule the digital landscape, an alarming trend of real-life consequences is emerging. Living with a social media influencer can be a living nightmare, as an increasing number of individuals find themselves trapped in a chaotic and stressful environment, burdened by a roommate who fails to fulfill basic responsibilities.
.This influencer (M30) whose name I will withhold for privacy reasons, has gained fame and a substantial following online, but their offline behavior has left a trail of frustration, despair, and mounting debts.
The most glaring issues I face sharing a roof with this social media influencer is their complete disregard for financial obligations. Rent remains unpaid, bills go ignored, and pleas for contribution fall on deaf ears. This irresponsible behavior not only puts a strain on me but also creates a hostile living environment where stress and anxiety prevail.
Basic cleanliness is another realm in which this influencer has failed to deliver. The communal areas of the residence are left in a perpetual state of disarray, with unwashed dishes piling up, their cloths and laundry strewn across all common areas , and a general lack of regard for the upkeep of the property. Attempts to address these concerns have proven futile, as the influencer seems to prioritize their online presence and personal comfort over the wellbeing of those they share their living space with.
The toll this situation has taken on my mental and emotional health. The stress caused by living in such chaos has resulted in sleepless nights, increased tension, and strained relationships. Constantly feeling on edge and walking on eggshells has become the new normal, contributing to an unhealthy and unsustainable living situation.
Efforts to confront them about their behavior have been met with deflection, excuses, and an overall lack of accountability. With an inflated sense of self-importance and an obsessive focus on maintaining their online persona, it seems that the influencer has lost touch with the realities of everyday life and the responsibilities that come with cohabitation.
While social media has undeniably revolutionized the way we connect and share our lives, it is crucial to recognize that these virtual realms must not come at the expense of basic human decency and consideration for others. Roommates deserve respect, honesty, and accountability from those they live with, regardless of their online following.
As stories of living with inconsiderate social media influencers continue to surface, it is clear that this is an issue that warrants attention and conversation. Perhaps it is time for society to reevaluate the values we assign to online fame and influence, and ensure that the pursuit of virtual success does not compromise our offline relationships and personal responsibilities.
Until then, individuals unfortunate enough to find themselves sharing a space with a self-absorbed social media influencer must continue to raise their voices and demand change. Together, we can shed light on the challenges faced by these roommates and work towards fostering a more respectful and harmonious living environment for all.
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2023.06.01 23:23 Althinor Syrabanic worship by the Snow Elves - An exploration of the legendary Eyes of the Falmer [Apocrypha]
Sent from the College of Winterhold to all associated scholarly institutions for debate and further review
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4E203, 31st of Second Seed, Winterhold
Syrabanic worship by the Snow Elves - An exploration of the legendary Eyes of the Falmer
By Jeberilie Laussac
In my recent years studying the snow elves in Skyrim I have stumbled upon a remarkable rumour: two exquisite gemstones have appeared from the province's black market called the Eyes of the Falmer. I have already written in previous works on the Tragedy of the Snow Elves, and the precious little we know about their culture. It took me many months to track down their origin, and many more to find the individuals who retrieved them from the Irkngthand ruins. Through some, monetary, persuasion I coaxed several drawings of the large statue they encountered in those caves.
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In the dark caves under the dwarven city of Irkngthand lies a large statue carrying staff and book. Styled after a Snow Elf from before the Night of Tears, its eyes made from large gleaming crystals.
Why did the Falmer who lived in this Dwemer city built it? Who was depicted by the statue? Why were specifically the Eyes given such great attention?
Why the eyes were given such attention might not be hard to surmise. Common theory proposes that after fleeing to the dwarven cities the snow elves were given a poisonous substance which rendered them sightless. Through the process and with time they were transformed into the blind Falmer that are encountered in Skyrim to this day. But is this statue a general lament to the loss of their sight, or is it a specific plea to a specific divine?
The same sources that retrieved the snow elven texts translated by Calcelmo in Markarth indicate that, like their Altmer cousins, the Falmer venerated several divines during their civilization and had a temple dedicated to them. The central figure being the King of the Aldmer, Auri-El; however, other divines are also indicated to have had temples dedicated to them: Trinimac, Phynaster, Jephre and Syrabane.
I propose the statue found in the caverns was built to worship none other than Syrabane ‘youngest’ of the eight.
The first aspect that must be explained is the contradiction this brings with Syrabane the historical figure: a mer who lived during the 22nd and 23rd century in the second era where they aided Bendu Olo in assembling the All Flags navy. Statues of him can be found on the island of Artaeum and outside the harbour of Gonfalon Bay in the Systres archipelago. This event supposedly gave Syrabane their place as the youngest of the divines, it occurred however two millennia after the fall of the ancient snow elves.
This suggests that the divine Syrabane the Snow Elves worshipped, during the late Merethic era and early first era, is likely not the result of the heroic efforts against the Sload made by the historically known Syrabane.
In addition, High Elven mages have also made imagery characterising them as female. One recorded example was a statue in the second era Altmer Embassy in Elden Root. This points to a diverse interpretation of the Warlock gods' appearance and deviates from a singular historical figure. There are however aspects that are attributed to the deity Syrabane that could shine a light on their worship in Snow Elven society.
Syrabane is commonly known as the Warlock god and has strong links to magic. Various magically created artefacts, often warding against danger, are attributed to him of which his Sacred Ring is the most well known. He is also invoked by apprentices, in situations of self reflection and is credited to have taught the Aldmer many secrets in enchanting and crafting practices.
More importantly for the connection to the ancient falmer however is his associations to sight and scrying. The scrying Order of the Eye invokes the ‘Sight of Syrabane’, and the Psijics that erected a statue to him are specialists in the same scrying arts.
Finally the attributes carried by the statue may also point into the direction of Syrabane. The statues that can be directly ascribed to the deity always hold a staff in one hand, and the other frequently holds a scroll. The Irknthand statue carries a staff in one hand and holds a book in the other, mirroring the known statues.
Though these more contemporary sources are not direct, the universal associations could also have been shared by the ancient snow elves.
If they were, it is understandable why Syrabane was chosen as the subject of the constructed statue in their desperate situation: a teacher whose wisdom could guide them in their trying times, who could give the the Sight to see without eyes and who could ward them against further curses and danger.
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2023.06.01 23:13 DangerousSmile535 How rewards are handled in a mass tort claim
Because they involve a large number of many people, the parameters of a mass tort claim give rise to obvious, practical questions about how mass tort rewards are distributed. First, it might help to understand the exact nature of a tort.
A tort is a civil lawsuit against a party whose actions caused injury to the plaintiff. While this includes intentional actions that cause harm, many tort claims arise out of unintentional actions or negligence that cause injury.
In many cases a single defendant may be responsible for a lot of injuries, such as in the case of defective products (the Roundup trials, for example).
In such cases, the injured parties may file their own individual personal injury cases, which may then be consolidated into a mass tort claim featuring a collection of individual torts. For example, if the release of a drug causes various injuries to a large number of people, the individual torts may be grouped into a mass tort claim.
Compensation in Mass Torts is Not Handled Like Class Actions
Though the public often interchanges “mass tort” with “class action”, this use is incorrect.
In a mass tort, while certain evidence may be used collectively, no one plaintiff represents fully the interests of all parties to the claim.
A class action suit is a type of mass tort claim, but one that means a plaintiff must file suit and act on behalf of other plaintiffs as well as prove his or her experience coincides with the experience of the others.
Finally, class action lawsuits often result in insignificant rewards on an individual basis because the defendant may pay a lump sum that is then divided among the plaintiffs, with the plaintiffs bringing the suit and their attorneys often collecting a sum proportionally much larger than others in the case.
This means that many plaintiffs in a class action lawsuit will not recover fair compensation for the damages they’ve suffered. But a mass tort claim can more fairly allocate awards based on each plaintiff’s damages.
Determining Compensation in a Mass Tort
Mass tort cases often take years to resolve. Mass tort cases are made up of consolidated multi-district litigation against a common defendant—this makes sense, because it frees up the court’s resources. However, each claim in a mass tort is still treated as an individual personal injury case. Rewards vary from plaintiff to plaintiff.
This can be advantageous for groups of people with similar claims against a common defendant but who suffered different damages. It allows each plaintiff to pursue and recover compensation commensurate with his or her losses.
This means that one plaintiff who suffers tens of thousands of dollars in damages will recover fair compensation, while another who suffers a few thousand dollars in damages will also recover compensation proportional to his or her damages.
But while compensation may not be equal among all plaintiffs in a mass tort, the lawyers handling the claims for the plaintiffs may share evidence and details of their investigations with other attorneys.
This helps to consolidate the cases so, for example, if an expert witness is necessary to speak to a key part of the case, he or she must only provide testimony once. Otherwise, the expert may have to provide testimony for each of the cases.
Plaintiffs thus benefit from shared resources of other parties to the claim.
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