#foley mountain

[thegreatmystery]

origin story

[velovelo]

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated : May 1995

win, lose, or draw

By Andy Rodriguez

If you want to begin to understand Cactus Jack, don’t watch what he does at a Smoky Mountain card. Keep an eye on him when he’s wrestling in ECW.

When he’s in Smoky Mountain, Jack appears to be a pretty decent guy. In the ring he’s typically reckless, but he is also given to acts of kindness, the most notable one being how he helped turn around the career of Boo Bradley. 

Before Jack came to Smoky Mountain, Bradley was a member of Tammy Fytch’s stable. He hadn’t been one for very long, but he had quickly become one of the most hated men in the federation. After Jack arrived, Bradly remained one of the most hated, but that didn’t last long. Jack hasn’t intended to help out anybody, but he decided that Bradley should benefit from his intervention. “There’s a side of Jack that wants to help out young wrestlers,” said Terry Funk, who used to wrestle with Jack in ECW. “He doesn’t like seeing them being taken advantage of. When he saw the situation with Bradley, he must have seen an opportunity to make a difference.” 

First, Jack instigated a feud with Bradley and his partner, Chris Candido. Jack convinced Brian Lee, then Tracey Smothers, to be his partner in that effort.

“Sure, I wasn’t sure if I could trust him at first,” said Smothers. “I know the man’s reputation. But he convinced me he was for real. I could see he really wanted to help out this young wrestler. And I surely don’t mind helping anyone cause problems for Tammy Witch!” 

In the ring, Cactus was extremely rough on Candido, but even tougher on Bradley. He was attempting to show Bradley that if he didn’t join his camp, he’d be in for beating after beating from him. Apparently, Jack feels the best way to teach man a lesson is to kick the cramp out of him. Also, by beating Boo up night after night, he was showing him what kind of partner he could have if he ditched Fytch.

If Bradley made the correct decision, he wouldn’t have a maniac like Cactus Jack against him; he’d have Jack as a friend. 

Bradley got the message. Now he considers Jack more than a friend, he calls him a savior. 

“Cactus Jack is a good man,” Bradley, who has never been called a genius, said. “He helped me a lot. He is my friend. He is not a bad man. He is my good friend.” 

If the story ended there, I’d gladly start rooting for Cactus myself. I’d try to disregard all the terrible things he’d done in the past and support him in his efforts to clean up wrestling. 

I can’t do that, because I also see what’s going on with the man in ECW.

[When he arrived in Smoky Mountain, Cactus Jack said he was on a humanitarian mission to save Boo Bradley. Funny, most “humanitarians” don't beat up the men they’re trying to save.]

Jack is so popular there, too, but his popularity is due mainly to his love for blood and violence. Nobody is rooting for him to convert anybody there. They just want to see heads busted open and bones cracked. In his efforts to wreak havoc, Jack has found a willing partner: Tommy Dreamer. Dreamer is a young wrestler looking for a break. He says he considers himself very fortunate to have Jack on his side.

“Man, who wouldn’t want the guy on their side?” dreamed Dreamer, who has also done well in Japan of late. “He’s a legend! He doesn’t give a damn about anything or anybody. He’ll do whatever it takes to win. I want someone like that close by. He’s inspiring!” 

Dreamer says he was especially inspired the night he and Jack took on The Sandman and Tommy Cairo, who were accompanied by Woman and Angel. Jack attacked his foes furiously, and he didn’t stop at Sandman and Cairo. Before the match even started, he walloped Angel in the face with a rattan Singapore cane, just seconds after he stopped Dreamer from doing the same thing. 

“That was the lowest thing that I’ve ever seen!” said one hardened ECW fan.

“That was tremendous!” cried Dreamer. “Look, I don’t condone hitting female valets, but was Jack did was absolutely justified. She had no business even being there. Jack made sure she  wouldn’t cause us any problems. He did what he thought needed to be done. It was a gutsy move.” 

That is, I’m afraid, the real Cactus Jack, a man whose good acts must be viewed in a different light. 

“I hear he’s recruiting Bradley for some major battles in ECW,” said one old partner of Jack’s. “He needs some reinforcements in his battles with people like Sabu.”

“He doesn’t want Bradley to think for himself,” said ECW competitor Chris Benoit. “He wants to do his thinking for him.” Bradley knows what’s been going on in ECW, but continues to insist Jack is a good man with good intentions. 

“He told me I can trust him.” Bradley offered. “I believe him. Jack is a good man. He is my friend! He’ll always be there for me.” 

Knowing Cactus, Bradley won

T have to wait very long to find out if he is right on that count. In WCW, Jack would cozy up to a guy like Kevin Sillivan just as quickly as he’d associate himself with someone like Sting. 

“There was a time when I believed Cactus Jack truly cleaned up his act,” said Rick Steamboat, who recently retired from active competition. “I was actually considering a full-time partnership with him. But as soon as it seemed we were on the same page together, Jack would go veering off in a different direction. 

“What makes him great as a wrestler–his unpredictability.” Steamboat added, “made him terrible as a tag team partner.” 

Most of the fans and wrestlers in Smoky Mountains should know that the Cactus Jack they’re seeing is not to be believed. They’re just waiting for Bradley to join them. 

[By all indications, this is the real Cactus Jack–the Cactus Jack who lives for Blood and guts in WCW. Jack showed no mercy toward Tommy Cario in this match and was even more vicious in a confrontation with valet Angel.]

[brainmuncher]

A mis-text-derstanding

After a long night of patrolling around Amity, Danny damn near collapsed onto his bed. His back ached from a stray ectoblast and his eyes felt heavier than a mountain. Technus had done something to the technology around the town. At random a piece of technology would suddenly go rogue with a virus the ghost implemented. The virus would make the item try to capture anyone in the vicinity using any means necessary. So Danny had been doing regular patrols around town to catch anyone who needed help.

That also means that his sleeping time had been radically reduced. Without even the energy to lift his head, Danny patted around for his phone. Once he finally found the device he hefted himself on his side with a groan. It was a new phone since he was the first casualty in Technus’ plan. Thankfully, Sam had given him another so his parents wouldn’t try to make him one. (Who knows what kind of ‘anti-ghost’ protection they would’ve put on it.)

Tucker had promised that he was working on fixing the virus going around. Hopefully, he had some kind of good news to share. As soon as Danny went to message him he realized he hadn’t downloaded their chat app to the new phone. With a sigh he knew that he would just have to use normal texting but with careful codewords.

Putting in Tucker's number with a yawn, Danny sent the first message.

‘It’s your undead bro. The night out tonight was killer. Any news on the techie progress?’

Danny smashed his face into his bed with a sigh after hitting send. Knowing Tucker he was probably face first in his laptop and won’t notice the message for a bit. He could probably just close his eyes and…

Before he could even consider taking a nap there was a generic jingle from the phone. He should really get to fixing that. Tuck deserves a much better ringtone than some bells.

‘Nothing noteworthy yet. It's harder to crack than normal but nothing I can't handle. Do you need me to take over for tomorrow?’

‘Also why aren't you using our chat?’

Danny squinted at the screen with a slight frown. It had been a while since Sam or Tucker tried to go out in his place. They learned pretty quickly that it made Danny way too anxious to have them out there without him. Something about not being there to protect them if they got over their heads made Danny’s chest ache. 

And of course, Tucker noticed that he wasn’t using the app he made. It was a bit glitchy at times, but what tech wasn’t when it came to Danny? Not only was it secure, but it became an easier way for them to establish a timeline for filing. Jazz had been the one who realized that they didn’t have steady information on not just the rouges but the events of the fights. It became a staple to write out what happened and what went wrong after hearing her lecture about it.

‘Don’t have it on this phone yet. And you know how I feel about you being out there.’

Danny watched the screen for a bit, waiting to see if Tucker would reply immediately again. His mom probably caught him on his computer all day and was forcing him to separate himself from it for a while. It wasn’t an uncommon thing for Ms. Foley to do.

‘Yeah yeah, Mr. Possessive. Do you need me to walk you through how to get it again?’

Snorting at the pun, Danny easily replied. If Tucker was feeling sassy enough to joke about that, then he would push some buttons back. It was a simple banter that they sometimes fell into.

‘You know how I get with technology. I’m more likely to break something. Especially since this phone is so new. Whatever happened to flip phones?’

Danny snickered to himself at the message. Tucker had an ongoing war between new and old technology. While he loved his PDA he also admired some of the top-of-the-line devices. It was like the past and the future mixed in his friend's room. He would gush about the new devices but also gush about the older ones that still had functions that the newer ones lost. But flip phones? That was the only technology he knew that Tucker hated. It was the worst of both worlds for him. He’d been so excited when Danny’s flip phone was bricked by Technus’ virus.

‘I’m going to ignore that you said that.’

‘Also there’s going to be trouble in the park near you tomorrow. I’m already planning on going. Do you want in?’

Scooting up from his lounged position, Danny started to write back his reply.

‘Of course, I’ll be there. Don’t need you to go in alone and join the dead. Unusual for him to leave his plans there though. That’ll be fun to write in the report.’

The image of Jazz reading about that brought a smile to Danny’s face. She always found it interesting when one of the ghosts would change a long-time behavior. The fact that Technus was able to keep this rather on the down low would guarantee her interest. He was always one to blatantly announce his plans to the world to hear. Even though it’s a bit of a pain that he’s learning to keep things to himself it would peak Jazz’s curiosity, which made it bearable.

‘It is weird. And don’t remind me about the report. I still have the one from last week to write and I don’t want to do it.’

That made Danny laugh to himself a little. Last week the lunch lady tried to embrace the Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian life. In the overflow of food, Tucker had gotten trapped in veggies. He was visibly green from having to eat some to escape. Sam had been excited about it at first before she saw how much food was being wasted. She ended up getting attacked for trying to explain the damage overconsumption and food waste could bring.

‘You looked like you wanted to vomit afterward. Well, at least we are prepared this time. We don’t always get that chance.’

Danny stretched out his stubborn limbs, feeling himself try to sink into the darkness. He’d have to end the conversation sooner rather than later. At this rate, he wouldn’t have a choice on whether he was taking a nap or not. At the familiar sound of bells, he looked back down at the conversation.

‘Unfortunately. Well, I’ll be finished by the time we meet at the park. I know you usually like to sleep after a long night.’

The reply made Danny’s core feel fuzzy with happiness. Tucker always knows him so well. He doesn’t know what he did to get such a fantastic best friend. It was at times like these that Danny knew he was so glad that they were in this together. With two of his best friends at his side, it made being a vigilante so much easier to bear. 

‘Thanks. Remember that not just the dead get to sleep. Don’t push yourself. Goodnight.’

With that, Danny felt comfortable with setting his phone down to get changed into pajamas. It ached on his back to take off his shirt, but Jazz would be disappointed in the morning if he didn’t. She always got that pinched look on her face when he didn’t take care of himself to her standards. Her standards weren’t exactly high up either so it made him feel extra upset when he missed the mark.

Being careful to not lie on his back, Danny got back into his bed. He curled himself into the blankets with a small smile. One last chime of bells rang out in the room, probably from Tucker saying goodnight back. Picking up his phone, he opened up the lock screen and looked at his messages.

Instead of a goodnight, his stomach dropped as he realized a different number messaged him. A very familiar number.

‘Hey dude! I know you had to get a new phone so this is me. Not only did I figure out how it’s spreading, I think I finally found a way to get rid of the virus.’

Practically throwing himself off the bed, Danny got to his feet. Both his back and his mind screamed at him as he looked over the message. He tapped back to the one he’d just been replying to, finding his heart stopping at the string of numbers. One of the area code numbers was a six instead of a nine. He’d been messaging a stranger this entire time.

Looking back at the messages he convinced himself that it was fine. He was vague enough to not be recognized. It wasn’t like this person was from Amity. They won’t recognize the correlation between him and Phantom. Surely the other person wouldn’t take his words at face value. 

Worst comes to worst he can have Tucker take over his phone for a bit and make sure the other person can’t find out who he is. He hadn’t bought the phone or had it under his name in any way, so they could only find out from the conversation alone.

Breathing out a breath of air he kissed his night of sleep goodbye.

‘I’ll be over in a sec Tuck. I think I just made a mistake.’

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play (Hockeyplayer!Noah AU) Masterpost

Thank you to @ladyveronikawrites for the epic title pic!

Tropes and tags: hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Author's Note: Please note although this uses real people’s faces and likeness in an AU writing it does NOT in any way reflect the person specifically. I cannot stress enough how upset it will make me to find my work shared on other platforms, including ones that the band has direct access to. This is fan-fiction and if we want nice things, follow the rules. Also, I realize his last name is Davis, however, for the sake of the story and the fact that I like the name Sebastian so much it is the name we will be using for his surname. Thank you, and enjoy!

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 // Chapter 6 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 // Chapter 11 // Chapter 12 // Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 // Chapter 16 // Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 //

Taglist(click to be added): @ladyveronikawrites @poisongirl616 @shilohrosechicken @th0ughts-pr4yers @meliferafaerie @curse-bearing-hips @letmeadoreyoux @transparentwitchnightmare @darling-millicent-aubrey @moranastray @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @collective-heartbreak @littlefoxkota @somebodyels3 @thisbicc @jakeygvf21 @cind6547 @lma1986 @loeytuan98 @xxkittenkissesxx @darkmxgician @sammyjoeee @malerieee @embracethereaper42 @nerdywitch20 @graveatspeople @sacredthefran @dominuslunae @skulliecadaver-blog @anameunmusical @thatchickwiththecamera @missduffsblog @jessicafg03 @lilrubles @iknownothingpeople @talialovesmiw @deathofpeaceofmiiind @shaydayhere @wild-child-7747 @mountains-to-move @sundamariis @caitcoreeeee @crimson-calligraphyx @starsomens @artificialbreezy @chels3a-smile @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @deathblacksmoke @roley-poley-foley @ravieisunhinged @dethronetheveil @to-be-written @somewhere-diamond @sacredthefran @cncohshit @flowery-mess @graveatspeople @sundamariis @srorgana1 @bloody-delusion-expert @sammyjoeee @deathofpeaceofmiiind @hayleylatour @deadboltsblog @broken0mens

[fujoshiwarrior]

The retort is offensive to Israel apologists because it takes away their only weapon. Without mountains of narrative, all you’ve got is a nonstop deluge of raw video footage depicting the blatant genocidal criminality of Israel. No narrative overlay is required atop a video of a baby beheaded by Israeli military explosives. It stands on its own. You’d only need narrative to explain why the footage of the headless baby doesn’t say bad things about the side that’s dropping the bombs.

You don’t need narrative to frame such things are unacceptable, you only need narrative to frame them as acceptable. You don’t need mountains of words to frame Israel’s actions as evil, you only need mountains of words to frame Israel’s actions as good.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hey do you guys remember how I said that I was going to use patreon to write up content that would be WILDLY too long for tumblr? yeah. this is uuuuuh a little less than 6000 words about a bad Animal Planet series from 2008 that no one watched but me and my sister.

and here's part of the introduction under the cut for freebies, in case you want a little sample:

If you weren’t a painfully introverted animal fact kid in the early 2000s it’s almost impossible to explain the degree of sway that Animal Planet and its shows held over me as a child. Meerkat Manor, Animal Cops, The Most Extreme, The Little Zoo That Could, Prehistoric Planet, River Monsters, all of Steve Irwin’s work, and truly any and all non-serialized programming about any animal imaginable. I ate it all up, even the terribly boring half-hour programs like Backyard Habitat and Petfinder that they only played in the weird wee hours of the morning. 

Crucially, this programming is mostly of a nonfiction bent. Prehistoric Planet uses a framing device involving the use of time travel to bring extinct animals into the present to live in a zoo, but ultimately they’re trying to teach you some facts about some beasts, and while Meerkat Manor was definitely anthropomorphizing and editorializing the drama those meerkats experienced, it was at least rooted in the very real Kalahari Meerkat Project, which has been intensively documenting the behavior of meerkat mobs for many meerkat generations.

But then we get into the oddballs. In 2004 Animal Planet aired Dragons: A Fantasy Made Real, a British “docufiction” produced for Channel Four that sought to contextualize the nearly-global mythology of dragons in real history and biology, complete with CGI recreations of dragons in their “natural habitats.” That’s all fine and good; there’s nothing wrong with using a fake thing to teach people about real animals’ evolution and anatomy. The Loch Ness Monster episode of River Monsters is excellent for this, as you can tell that host Jeremy Wade (angler, freshwater detective, and criminally fuckable old man) doesn’t expect to find a monster literally at all and is just taking the opportunity to introduce his audience to animals they might not otherwise know about, including the noble Greenland shark. He pulls the same trick again in a later episode where he’s sent to discover the “truth” behind sea serpents and winds up diving in search of the elusive oarfish.

Dragons is… not doing that. Instead it offers up a framing device following a completely fictional paleontologists who “suggests the theory that a carbonized Tyrannosaurus rex skeleton on display was killed by a prehistoric dragon” (thanks, Wikipedia) and then has to go on a quest to save his career by proving that dragons totally existed and he’s not crazy. And he’s not! The piece ends with him discovering straight up for-real dragon bones in the Carpathian Mountains. If you were, say, an impressionably soft-brained 8 year old watching this, well holy shit. Congrats! It turns out dragons are real and nobody knows but you. 

Why did Animal Planet air this? God only knows, but it wouldn’t be the last time they dabbled in this shit. 2012 saw another piece by the same creator, Charlie Foley, called Mermaids: The Body Found which posited that various governments are holding merpeople captive and also relied on the infamously eugenicist aquatic ape theory to justify how merpeople could exist. The CGI on that one creeped me the fuck out, although I was at least old enough by then to recognize it wasn’t real.

Between those two docufictional farces, Animal Planet got a little freaky and rolled out some fake factual content of their own: three season of the TV show Lost Tapes (2008-2010, RIP), which purportedly showed “found footage” from incidents of humans having terrifying encounters with cryptids and fighting to escape with their lives. Interspersed with the fully fictional stories were segments of experts talking about folkloric history and speculating as to how creatures like Sasquatch and sea serpents could be real, which was an admirable effort to make it educational but often fell pretty short. There’s a werewolf episode where their expert weakly offers up that there are tons of transformations in nature, like caterpillars turning into butterflies. Notably that has absolutely nothing in common with a human turning rapidly into a wolfbeast and then shifting back, but they tried! They stopped trying as hard by season three, by which point they were throwing any and every beastie they could think of at the wall: there are episodes dedicated to zombies, a poltergeist, two different types of vampires, and the Aztec god Quetzalcoatl. 

Also straining belief was the dedication that some POV characters had to keeping their cameras rolling. I don’t blame the writers for that; it’s hard coming up with a fresh gimmick for “found footage” in every episode. Some of them, like characters wearing body cameras, are pretty smart; others, like a teenage girl continuing to film on her phone while being hunted by the Jersey devil, are not. They’re very much running on horror movie rules; the characters are as dumb as they need to be to make the plot go. To the show’s credit the dumdums are frequently punished, and it’s not uncommon for every single named character to end up dead at the hands (or claws, fangs, whatever) of the monster of the week. 

Needless to say, as a 12 year old I thought this was extremely edgy and cool. I was old enough to recognize that the so-called found footage was fake and that the acting was mostly very bad, but I liked cryptids and some of the show’s better episodes could still creep me right out. I think geeky 12 year olds who like to get a little freaked out on purpose are probably the ideal target demographic for this show, followed by nostalgic 20-somethings who have seen every episode several times.

(Hi, editor’s note: having completed this list it turns out there are WAY more episodes than I thought and I fully Do Not Recall some of them, so egg on my face.)

[aplaceinthedark]

LOOKING for the MEANING

chapter one: Old Friends, Same Disease

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm. 

Word Count: 2777

CW: supernatural themes, attempted B&E, mentions of dead bodies, body horror

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Featured Creatures:

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@rottingfern @roley-poley-foley

I learned pretty quickly that Shenandoah Spring never wanted to come when it was told.

I’d heard about “Fake Spring” once or twice from a distant cousin that lived on the other side of the Blue Ridges. The First Day of Spring had come and gone, yet I was certain that some mornings it was still the middle of winter. Mornings like those, I was glad I had a space heater in my bed.

The space heater being my partner, Nicholas Ruffilo.

How most nights he was able to sleep wearing only a shirt and shorts was beyond me. No matter how many blankets I would pile on, or how far I snuggled under his body, I could never get warm. Not that we would complain about the closeness, since some nights felt like they were colder and darker than others.

Tonight was one of those nights - but unfortunately, I was alone.

Night terrors weren’t new to me. Before I left Newport News, I had been warned of the many side effects of PTSD and Survivor’s Guilt. I had been plagued with them constantly until I moved to New Hope, and then they had all but vanished when Nick and I started sleeping together.

Tonight, it was just me and the cats, as Nick had gone to Richmond for the weekend to see his mom. I had stayed behind this time, saying that I was never really alone with our friends in the woods. But now, I was starting to regret my decision.

Usually my night terrors involved the Accident that had happened almost two years ago, but tonight had been different. Instead of Michael’s body, lying lifeless in front of me, it was Nick’s, almost exactly how it had looked last summer. It was an image I hadn’t wanted to ever revisit, but it seemed like tonight my subconscious wanted me to rehash it.

And that’s why I was currently standing on my front porch, alone in the dark.

I took a drag from the joint we had stashed away in our “Medical Emergencies Only: KEEP OUT FOLIO” stash, AKA when we needed to calm down. Despite it being three in the morning, the woods surrounding my house was lively, defying the chill that seemed to permeate everything. I glanced over at the trees, taking in how the moon made them cast long shadows that seemed to claw their way across my lawn.

I no longer feared what those shadows hid.

Which reminded me… I peered behind me, casting my eyes down at the offering plate. It no longer sat down on the porch next to the door, like it was a water bowl for an outside dog. I had put it up on its own little table so as to keep it from getting buried underneath the snow. It held some cookies right now, wrapped in tinfoil to keep the raccoons from getting to them. The fact that they were still there meant Noah or the other two haints hadn’t stopped by to take the offering. 

I no longer woke up when one of them would stop by, though a couple of times I would when I felt Nick leave the bed, but I would just quickly fall back asleep after. Some mornings I would wake up to see that Folio had dumped himself either on the living room couch or the bed in the spare bedroom, snoring away.

As I scrolled away on my phone, I felt the air around me go still. It made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. It was a common sign that one of the boys was near, so I looked up to greet whomever it was. 

Indeed, there was something in the woods, lurking just at the edge of my property line, where the grass turned into the Weeds. I couldn’t exactly see it, just a faint outline, like those games Nicholas likes to play, when the screen says to turn the brightness down until you can't see the image. The presence lingered there for a long time.

I rolled my eyes. “Hello, Noah,”  I called out, putting out the joint in the porch ashtray.

There was only silence in return, and the patch of darkness didn't move. I narrowed my eyes. “Whatever you're doing, Noah, you can do it either on my lawn or fuck off. I'm not in the mood for this tonight,” I snapped.

Nothing.

Unease curled in me. "Jolly? Nick?” I said, using Joakim’s nickname and Folio’s first name, respectively. I tried to keep the fear slowly creeping into me out of my voice, but I don’t think I did a very good job of it.

When I still didn't receive a response, I called out to the shadow with that weird mental connection Noah had with everyone. Noah?

WHAT?

The annoyance in his voice at my intrusion was not helping my panic. Are you anywhere near the house right now?

There was a small pause before he replied,

NO, I'M UP IN THE MOUNTAINS. FOLIO’S ON HIS WAY. WHY?

The second he said the word, No, I was immediately running back into the house. It didn't matter that Noah was still in my head, demanding that I tell him what was going on. I startled the small calico cat awake with the sound of the door slamming shut, causing her to angrily meow at me.

“Shh!” I quietly told Lydia, reaching over to pull the curtains shut. I had barely drawn one set when I heard the front steps outside creak as something put its weight down on them. I immediately dropped down into a crouching position, my back pressed against the door. Lydia was smarter, trodding off back to my bedroom.

Staying as still and quiet as possible, I could just barely hear what was going on on the other side of the door. It sounded like wet rasping, intermixed with some clicking noise. If that was the sound of nails hitting wood, there was no way that was Folio in his Grim form. 

The sound continued for several more minutes, pacing back and forth slowly. The sound would fade off, and I would think it was safe to get up until it paced the other way. I was getting lightheaded from holding my breath for long periods of time. 

That’s when I heard a new sound: metal being disturbed. Was… whatever it is... stealing the offering plate?

I was so focused on listening for the sound again that the knock on my door nearly had me falling over. I couldn't help the yelp that slipped out. I froze, scared that it would alert the monster outside, but then a familiar voice piped up. “Taylor, it's me. Open the door,” Noah said.

I slowly stood up, heading towards the peep hole to check, when I heard the same voice say inside my head, 

DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR! THAT'S NOT ME!

The doorknob rattled vigorously, as if the thing heard Noah. I felt a small surge of pride at having the wherewithal to deadbolt the door when I ran in, but it quickly evaporated when the door violently shook in its frame. I backed away from it until there was a loud bang, as if it threw its body against it, and an unearthly shriek pierced my eardrums. I bolted for the bathroom.

FOLIO'S ALMOST THERE.

I shut and locked the door, and then clambered into the tub before drawing the shower curtain. I then curled up into a ball to wait it out.

The minutes stretched into what felt like hours until I heard the sound of heavy paws beating against the forest floor, like someone was beating out a fast tempo on a kickdrum. Then, sounds of snarling and shrieking filled the air, causing a small sob of what was almost relief to escape me. Then, quiet.

“Taylor?”

I froze at what sounded like Nick Folio’s voice, calling out loud enough that I could hear him. "It's safe now. I'm coming in, alright?"

I climbed out of the bathtub and made my way out into the hall. It just so happened that at the same time, Folio was closing the front door behind him. Dark blood dropped from his lips onto the eagle tattooed on his chest, but I knew that he was the real Folio. Only occupants could come into my house.

I nearly tripped over my shaking legs, but I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He answered in kind, holding me in comfort.

“I got it, don’t worry. It won't hurt you,” he said, smoothing my rumpled hair as if trying to soothe a wild animal. His nose then pressed to the shaved skin above my ear and I heard him sniffing.

"I was smoking before this happened," I admitted sheepishly.

“Obviously,” he said. He sounded a little disappointed.

That's when I heard the sound of trees being disturbed. “Go clean up,” I said, unwinding myself from Folio.

“Can do.” He patted my backside as he passed me to walk to the bathroom.

I pulled open the door and stepped onto the porch. Only the signs of the struggle were apparent. Nothing was broken, and the only things left behind were nail marks and small tufts of silvery-white fur, which I knew had belonged to Folio. He hadn’t looked raked, so it must not have caught his skin. Whatever the thing had been, there was no sign of it.

In the periphery of my vision, a tall shadow emerged from deep within the woods. As it got closer, it shrunk down to a somewhat normal size of a human. The branch-like antlers seemed to emerge from the treeline before his tattooed body did. It almost seemed like his arrival was accompanied by the sound of a cold wind skittering dead leaves across the ground.

“Jesus Christ,” Noah Sebastian, the Watcher of the Woods, swore. “What the hell did you go and do now?”

NOAH

It was something Noah hadn't seen in a long time. 

Folio didn't leave it in one piece, but Noah could tell what it was just by looking at some of the bits. Almost white, hairless, a dried up husk. Its eyes were missing, but Noah knew it had already been like that. These things never had eyes, even back when he was under the old Watcher's control.

That was what worried him: the fact that this thing was here in the first place. He was wracking his brain over when he could have possibly left a corpse rot in the woods when he heard the front door of the house open. He dropped the pale thing to the ground and shifted into his more human form. Years later and he still felt the pain of his “bones snapping to fit inside a body half his actual size.

Taylor looked dead on their feet, and when he stepped onto the porch, they nearly collapsed against him. He steered them back in the house, forcing them to sit on the couch. He waited until they caught their breath to start interrogating.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded. He knew a little bit from the panic that made Taylor practically throw the situation through the mental pipeline he had with everyone, but he couldn't actually see what happened through their eyes.

As they told him what happened, Noah listened intently. Normally, they had a relationship that bordered on squabbling siblings, but when it came to the safety of the woods and those he considered his “inner circle”, he was as serious as a heart attack. 

As he began to ask a question, he heard the shower water turn off. “Do you still have that camera hooked up outside?”

“Yeah. I don't have the motion sensor notify me everytime, since you guys would wake me up at three in the morning,” Taylor said. They pulled out their phone.  

“Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep,” Noah said. He saw their eyes roll. 

Folio then came out of the bathroom, wearing sweats. He shook his head vigorously, sending water droplets flying. “Did you see what it was?” he asked. 

“Yeah, what little you left.”

“Hey! I didn't eat the whole thing! That shit was nasty!” Folio protested. 

Folio sometimes thought with his stomach rather than his head. It didn't help that Noah let him eat whatever he found sometimes, but that had to stop after he nearly ate Taylor the first time they went into the woods and got lost. It didn't prevent him from starving, though. Between some of the wild animals he'd catch, or whatever leftovers Nicholas would leave for him, he was eating pretty good. He was, after all, a twenty-five year- old stuck in a seventeen year-old body. 

“There's still cookies on the offering plate,” Taylor mumbled as they scrolled through camera footage. 

“Ooh, sweet!”

“Save some for Jolly!” Noah called over his shoulder as Folio bound for the front door. 

Taylor's shoulders slumped a little bit. “Come here,” he sighed, wrapping a long arm around them and pulling them into his wide torso. He was catching onto their moods quicker. He noticed that they liked stability and normality after stuff like this happened. 

And to think, he nearly killed them last year, too.

“Do you want one of us to stay with you until Nick gets home?” Noah asked. He felt them nod against his chest, leaving something wet behind. He sighed again, and kissed the top of their head. 

“I'll stay,” Folio said, mouth full. 

“The fuck did I just say?”

“I SAVED YOU AND JOLLY SOME!”

Noah heard a semi-hysterical giggle escape from Taylor. “Did you manage to find where the attack began?” he asked them. 

Taylor held up their phone, and Noah pressed play. He watched as Taylor ran into the house, and a few moments later the thing slowly crawled onto the porch. He moved the phone, but Taylor grabbed his wrist and held him fast. They wanted to see the monster too.

From the angle the camera was at, it looked like a hairless dog with too long hind legs. It loped around on all fours, back and forth on the porch several times. After a few minutes, Folio in his Grim form popped into frame, causing Taylor to jump, and he clamped his jaws onto the creature. 

“What is it?” Taylor asked. 

“I called them Pale Things. They're what happens to people who die in the woods,” Noah said. “I haven't seen them since the old Watcher would leave bodies left and right.”

“D-Do you know how tall they are when they stand up?” Taylor asked. 

Noah frowned at the odd question. “Why?” he asked. 

“Because something was standing at the edge of the woods, and this… Pale Thing seems too small to be that.”

Noah recalled when they had woken him. “Are you anywhere near the house?” They had mistaken this thing for him? That seemed impossible. 

So there might be something else out there. 

“Call Nick. I'm gonna get Jolly and we'll look around for anything,” Noah said. He then took the tin foil packets from Folio. “If anything that's not us or Nick comes within a hundred-foot radius of this property, fuck it up.” 

Folio grinned, making his sharp teeth more pronounced. “Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

Noah stood up, patting Taylor on the head in a way that he knew would annoy them. “Go back to sleep, Lil’ Rabbit. I'll be back with the sunrise.” He then walked out of the house that had once been his. 

With every step he took towards the woods, he transformed into a more comfortable form. His body stretched and grew as vines and branches broke through his skin, wrapping around his arms and legs. Bark and moss formed over that as if mocking clothes, but would break at his joints with a loud cracking sound. As he disappeared past the treeline, melting in with the other trees, his skull broke free and melded together so he no longer move his jaw. But the antlers remained; in fact, they grew to impressive lengths.

To some, he was monstrous. 

To him, he was The Watcher of the Woods.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

[theculturedmarxist]

It’s not the big, glaring, obvious lies that get you. The New York Times is the world’s most destructive propaganda outlet not because it publishes giant ham-fisted whoppers, but because it appears trustworthy. Its reporting looks authoritative. Children are taught in school that it’s what credible news media looks like. This lets the well-crafted propaganda slide into people’s minds, undetected and without resistance.

❖

The western media are so ridiculously deceitful and propagandistic that the fact that popular comedy shows and famous comedians aren’t making fun of them constantly proves those shows and comedians are themselves part of the propaganda network.

❖

Most mainstream western reporting on Chinese military activity essentially amounts to “OMG you guys China isn’t just passively sitting there while we militarily encircle it and prepare to attack it!”

Example:

That’s what all the banging on about China’s “military build-up” is doing too; acting like it’s alarming and sinister that China isn’t just passively allowing itself to be surrounded with war machinery amid glaringly obvious western preparations for war without doing anything to defend itself.

China’s still spending vastly less on its military than the United States, both overall and as a percentage of GDP. Yet we’re meant to act like China is the obvious aggressor nation, even as it’s being rapidly surrounded by US war machinery and increasingly militarized US allies.

❖

One thing I’ve learned from interactions with Robert F Kennedy Jr supporters is that many of them sincerely don’t understand why his position of “unconditional support” for Israel is such a deal breaker for many anti-imperialists. They think it’s all about Palestinian rights, but it’s a lot more than that.

Unconditional support for Israel doesn’t just mean supporting apartheid abuses and frequent bombings of Gaza, it means supporting the regular bombing of Syria, the annexation of the Golan Heights, and Israel’s insane warmongering against Iran. Israel is always in a state of war.

“Unconditional support” for Israel means imperialist foreign policy throughout the middle east. This isn’t just conjecture — we already see it in RFK Jr’s other middle east foreign policy like his staunch opposition to the Iran deal.

It’s a nonsensical, self-contradictory position to claim you want to dismantle the empire out one side of your mouth and pledge “unconditional support” for a nation that’s never not at war out the other. If you’re saying both, there’s one you’re not being truthful about.

There’s not enough rage at the US empire for provoking and perpetuating the war in Ukraine. Objections you see to this proxy war are mostly just griping about how much it costs or whether it’s sound strategy or whatever, but how about the fact that human lives are being spent like pennies for the advancement US global hegemony?

Think about how much it hurts to have one death in your family. Think about how much it rocks an entire community to lose even one life to violence. Mountains of human bodies are being piled up in violent deaths, all to secure US geostrategic interests in Eurasia. It’s pure horror.

The empire had multiple opportunities to end this before it started. It had an opportunity to end it in April 2022. It had an opportunity to end it this past November. But it kept shoving it through to advance US interests, and young lives kept being sacrificed to the war god.

Meanwhile US officials openly gloat all the time about how much this war is serving US interests, while anonymously whining to the press that the counteroffensive is failing because Ukrainians are too cowardly to charge through Russian minefields under heavy artillery fire. This should draw white hot rage from everybody.

Basically the US empire’s strategy is to use Ukrainian bodies like a giant sponge to soak up as many expensive Russian military explosives as possible.

❖

For western war propagandists Syria was like a dress rehearsal for the war in Ukraine. The lies are being peddled mostly by the same people, using mostly the same methods, funneled up into the same mainstream media platforms. The only real difference is that the empire is on the side of the official government in Ukraine, so it can simply use its officials and its media platforms as on the ground sourcing instead of setting up a bunch of weird little propaganda constructs like the White Helmets etc. Syria marked a new era of imperial narrative management.

[raaorqtpbpdy]

(Not so) Imaginary Friend

A young Tucker Foley befriends a yeti.

For the Prompt: A young Tucker has accidentally befriended a Yeti of the far frozen. As the years go by, the yeti keeps trying to leave messages for Tucker but Tucker's father tries to put a stop to their interactions, stating Tucker is simply "too old to be playing with imaginary friends" [from Shinx]

Read also on AO3

[Warning for unsafe parenting on the Fenton's part, and uncompassionate parenting on the Foley's part. Basically questionable parenting choices all the way around.]

Tucker was six the first time he met the yeti. Even at that age, he'd known Amity Park wasn't a completely normal town. He was excited, because it was the first snow day of first grade, and his dad had agreed to take him over to his friend Danny's house to play.

When they got there, Danny's older sister Jazz had opened the door and let Tucker inside. She said her parents were downstairs and not to bother them, and Tucker said goodbye to his dad and sprinted in to find Danny. When they saw each other, the two of them ran full-force at each other, slamming into a hug at top speed. It probably would have been smarter not to do that on the stairs to the second floor, but they were none-the-worse for wait after tumbling down a few steps and laughed it off.

Tucker had been all but literally jumping up and down as he waited for Danny to finish putting on his warm clothes so they could go out into the back yard and build a snow monster. A snow monster was like a snowman, except way way cooler, and instead of a carrot nose, it had baby-carrot teeth. The Fentons never had full-sized carrots, anyway.

When they ran outside, they offered to let Jazz join in, but she said she would rather stay inside and read. Tucker and Danny had only gotten up to the letter M in their class, but they were in first grade, and Jazz was in third grade, so she knew all the letters already. Tucker was excited to learn all the letters, but he liked math even better.

The two of them played for hours. They built an awesome snow monster. They had a snowball fight. And then, there was a loud sound from inside the house. It was a sort of whirring humming noise that grew louder by the second, and green spots started to appear in the air.

Tucker was two distracted to see what happened to Danny, but when he looked over, his friend was lying in the snow, looking like he was dead. Tucker ran to him, but he couldn't decide if he should be more afraid of Danny passing out unexpectedly, or of the green spots in the air that were slowly but surely growing wider and wider.

He held Danny close against his chest, but didn't take his eyes off the nearest green spot. Soon, it was as big as Tucker was, and although it stayed green around the edges, Tucker could see more snow on the other side, but different snow. He could see mountains and rolling hills of white that were definitely not Danny's backyard.

Then, he saw a snow monster. A real one. This one was covered in white fur, its horns were bone and not sticks, and its teeth were definitely not baby carrots. Tucker's eyes widened and he held Danny tighter in his fear as he tried to scramble away.

The snow monster stopped without warning, and turned its head to look at Tucker.

"Please don't hurt me!" Tucker shouted at the top of his lungs. He didn't know if it would work, but his mom told him that if he said please he could get almost anything he wanted, and he really wanted the snow monster to not hurt him.

"Why would I hurt you?" the snow monster asked.

Tucker was surprised to hear it speak. It had a gentle, masculine voice that eased Tucker's fears almost as much as his words.

"Is something the matter with your friend?" the snow monster asked.

"I don't know what happened. He just fell asleep in the snow, and he won't wake up!"

"I know some medicine," the snow monster offered. "Maybe I can help."

"Are you a doctor?" Tucker asked, suddenly afraid again.

The snow monster laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm just a medic, and an apprentice one, at that. May I help?"

Tucker looked between the snow monster and his unconscious friend with apprehension. It didn't look like Danny was breathing, and he wasn't supposed to bother Danny's parents while they were working in the lab. That humming noise was so loud now that Tucker couldn't think.

"Okay, please help him!" Tucker shouted finally.

His mother always told him not to shout too much because it bothered people, but he didn't think the snow monster would be able to hear him if he didn't shout.

The snow monster didn't need to shout though. His voice cut right through the electronic hum like it fell silent the moment he opened his mouth.

"Alright, I will," he agreed, and stepped through the green spot.

Carefully, the snow monster took Danny away from Tucker and gently felt Danny's forehead and checked the color of his tongue, and so forth. Tucker wasn't really sure what he was doing, actually.

"My name is Blizzard," said the snow monster. "I live in a place called the Far Frozen. What's your name?"

"My name is Tucker Foley and I live at 2-2-1-7 Woodsboro Drive," Tucker recited. "And that is Danny. He lives in that house."

He pointed to the Fenton house. His parents had made him memorize his address in case he got lost, he also knew both their phone numbers, and the Fenton's home phone, just in case. Tucker was very good at memorizing numbers.

"It's nice to meet you, Tucker," Blizzard said kindly. "If I ever want to write you a letter, I'll know where to send it. As for your friend here, it doesn't seem like he has hypothermia, or anything like that. It looks as though he's reacting to all the ectoplasm in the air."

"The what?"

"All those green spots and the holes opening up to different places, they're releasing massive amounts of ectoplasm from the Infinite Realms into the air," Blizzard explained. "Ectoplasm is what gives ghostly beings like me strength. It looks like Danny has been exposed to ectoplasm before, but never pure ectoplasm like this, and it's causing a negative reaction with the stale ectoplasm already in his body."

Blizzard reached into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a twig with a few sparse leaves. He plucked a couple of them and pushed them into Danny's mouth.

"He would recover with time anyway, but this should help him recover faster," the snow monster explained.

Tucker looked intently at Danny, and already, he could see his friend's breathing getting stronger.

"I think it's working!"

Suddenly, the humming noise grew more high pitched, and Blizzard lifted his head, and perked up his ears.

"I should go," he said. "I fear these portals will not be open for much longer, and if they close, I will have no way to get back home."

"Will I ever see you again?"

Tucker asked.

Blizzard smiled at him and reached into his bag again, this time pulling out a piece of carved ice in the shape of one of Blizzard's horns, but hollow.

"If you blow in this, I'll hear you wherever I am," he said. "I may not always be able to get to you, but I'll always remember you."

Tucker took the frozen horn and blew into it, but it didn't make any sound.

He looked up in confusion when he hear Blizzard laughing at him. "You blow into the other end, silly."

"Oh." When Tucker blew into the other end, it made a low trumpeting tone.

"There you go!"

The humming noise became more high pitched again, and this time Blizzard looked genuinely alarmed.

"I have to go, he said," clambering quickly to his feet and running through the hole he'd come out of. His legs were a lot longer than Tucker's, and he could run much faster because of it.

The humming was replaced by a horrible shriek, like the school's fire alarm but somehow worse. It held for about three seconds, and while it did, the green spots and holes in the sky glowed so brightly, and spun and the edges got all warped and weird.

Then the only sound was Tucker's ears ringing, and the green things in the sky were gone.

A couple minutes later, Danny woke back up, and Tucker suggested they play inside for a while.

A grimace came across Danny's face and he spit out the leaved Blizzard had put in his mouth, and shuddered from laying still and unconscious in the cold.

"Yuck!" he said. His teeth chattered. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind going inside for a little while."

As soon as they got inside, however, the doorbell rang, and Danny and Tucker ran to answer it. Tucker's dad was there.

"What was that?" his dad demanded.

"I don't know," Tucker said.

"What was what?" Danny asked.

"I'm going to have to talk to your parents, young man!" Tucker's dad pushed his way inside and went straight to the basement door.

"No, wait! You're not supposed to bother Mom and Dad while their working!" Danny called out, running after him.

Tucker followed, too, mostly because he wanted to know what was going on.

The three of them all went down into the basement together, and gasped when they reached the bottom of the stairs. Mr and Mrs Fenton were both unconscious on the floor of their lab.

"Mom! Dad!" Danny shouted. He ran up to his mom, who was closer, and tried to shake her awake, but it didn't work.

Tucker's dad knelt down next to her and gently pulled Danny away before pressing his fingers into her neck for some reason, and then sighing with relief.

"She's alive." He got up up and walked over to Danny's dad to do the same thing. "Him too. What happened to them?"

"Maybe the same thing that happened to Danny," Tucker said with a shrug. "When those green spots started showing up, he just suddenly fell asleep. Then my snow monster friend gave him some leaves to make him wake up faster. He said Danny would have been fine without the leaves, though, so they should be okay, too."

"Well that's... very nice of your snow monster friend," Tucker's dad said, though his voice had a strange quality to it, like he wasn't really sure how to react.

"You have a snow monster friend?" Danny asked excitedly. "What's his name?"

"His name is Blizzard, and he came through one of the green holes when you were asleep," Tucker said.

"Cool!"

The two of them startled when Tucker's dad suddenly jumped to his feet.

"Wait, what about Jazz? Danny, where's your sister?" he demanded.

"In her room, I think."

Without another word, Tucker's dad started up the stairs and the two boys followed. They kept going up the next flight of stairs to the second floor, and Danny pointed out which bedroom was Jazz's.

Jazz was on her bed, asleep, with a book open on her chest. But she was abnormally pale, and if she was breathing, it was so shallow they couldn't tell looking at her.

Tucker's dad checked her neck, too and sighed again with relief. He put a bookmark in her book, and handed it to Tucker to carry. Then he picked up Jazz and carried her out of the room.

"Come on, into my car, both of you," he said.

Tucker and Danny ran down to the car, and strapped in, and then Tucker's Dad buckled Jazz in next to them before heading back inside for a moment to leave a note for the Fentons when they woke up.

Then he took them all back to Tucker's house, and Danny and Tucker played battleship wrestling while Jazz slept on the couch, and Tucker's parents talked to each other in the other room.

The Fentons had been very angry when they came to pick up their kids from Tucker's house. They yelled things like 'kidnapping', and Tucker's parents yelled back things like 'criminal neglect', and when Mr and Mrs Fenton finally stormed off, each of them holding one of their kids' hands, they shouted about never letting Tucker's parents anywhere near their kids again, and Tucker's Dad shouted back that the same went for them.

After that, Danny and Tucker weren't allowed to have play dates or hang out together outside of school for over a year. Tucker's dad said that he was never going to be allowed to go back to the Fenton's house, and as he understood it, Danny's parents had said basically the same thing to him about never being allowed to go to Tucker's house.

Tucker didn't have any siblings, or even neighbors close to his age, so he had to play alone a lot that winter.

He and Danny only lived a few blocks apart, so Tucker could see and even distantly hear when those green spots came back. His dad said that the spots were because of something Danny's parents were working on, which was too dangerous for kids to be around, and that was why he couldn't go back to Danny's house.

When Tucker saw those green spots start to show up though, he would get the ice horn out of his sock drawer—it never melted, no matter where he kept it—and blow into it, and sometimes, Blizzard would come and hang out and play with him. He would always leave when he thought the spots were about to go away though. He didn't want to be trapped away from home.

Tucker could understand that, but it still meant that he would have to play alone again. He missed having Danny over.

When winter started to give way to spring, Blizzard told Tucker that he wouldn't be able to come back until the snowy season started again, because it would be too warm for him, and he might melt.

This made sense to six-year-old Tucker, because all the snow monsters he and Danny had made melted during the spring, too. Even though Blizzard didn't seem to be made of actual snow, he was still a snow monster, and Tucker didn't want him to die.

Blizzard did promise to write Tucker letters though, and Tucker looked forward to that, and told him they'd see each other when winter came again.

Throughout the rest of the year, Tucker would occasionally receive letters. There was no sender address, but they were all addressed to Tucker Foley at 2217 Woodsboro Drive, Amity Park, Illinois. Blizzard's handwriting was not very good, but it was still readable. In his letters, he would tell Tucker stories about learning medicine, and all his yeti friends back in the Far Frozen.

Tucker learned that the technical name for snow monsters was yeti.

He couldn't write back, because he'd asked the mail lady, and she said that she'd never heard of the Far Frozen, and she was sorry, but she didn't think they could send mail there. So instead, after reading one of Blizzard's letters, Tucker would go outside and blow on the ice-horn to let Blizzard know that he was thinking about him.

When winter came again, the two of them played together some more. Tucker, hiving recently been made aware of the concept of 'too old for fun and games' by his older cousin during the summer, asked Blizzard if he thought he was too old to be playing with a little kid like Tucker. Blizzard said he was only an adolescent yeti himself, a young teenager, he clarified, but he never seemed to get any bigger, even though he commented on how much bigger Tucker had gotten in just one year. Apparently yetis aged much slower than people did.

Another winter passed, and Blizzard apologetically told Tucker they wouldn't be able to see each other until it snowed in Amity Park again. Tucker once again, understood, and through the rest of the year, Blizzard sent him letters every month or so, when he could get them through.

This continued for a few years. The Fentons stopped whatever experiment was making green spots appear, and Tucker was afraid that Blizzard might not be able to come back, but he managed it, though less often than previous years.

Gradually, Danny and Tucker's parents started to let the two of them hang out outside of school more, but even though Tucker eagerly told Danny about his yeti friend, and showed him the letters, the timing never worked out for Danny to be able to meet him.

Tucker never tried to hide Blizzard from anyone. He told his parents all about the yeti, and they seemed happy to indulge him for a long time.

Then, when he was eleven, and he got the first letter of the year from Blizzard in the mail, his parents started to look concerned. A few months, and two more letters later, his dad put the latest letter from Blizzard on the table between them and sat him down for a talk.

"Tucker... your mother and I have started to become... concerned about you," he said.

"What do you mean?" Tucker asked.

"Look, it was cute when you were seven years old and mailing letters to yourself, but you're about to start middle school now, and... well... don't you think you're getting too old for imaginary friends?"

"I don't have any imaginary friends," Tucker replied, openly confused by the conversation.

"Blizzard the yeti snow monster from the Far Frozen in the Infinite Realms?" His dad said flatly, raising an eyebrow. "None of those things actually exist."

Well... at least he knew now that his dad did actually listen to him. He'd always sort of wondered about that. Although not believing him was a new and different problem, obviously.

"He's not imaginary," Tucker said. "I see him every winter, and he sends me letters the rest of the year."

"Tucker, honey," his dad said in that overly sweet voice he used to tell Tucker things he knew he didn't want to hear. "Yetis are a myth. There's no such place as the Far Frozen, or the Infinite Realms. I'll admit you made up some pretty interesting lore for him, but Blizzard is not real."

"The Infinite Realms is another dimension," Tucker insisted. "The Far Frozen is just one of the realms in that dimension. And Yetis are real there."

"Seriously kid, you could write a bestseller out of this stuff," his dad said.

"It's not made up," Tucker insisted. "I still have the ice-horn he gave me when we first met, I'll show you!"

"No, Tucker. That's enough," his dad said firmly. "I didn't want to be bad cop, but your mother won rock-paper-scissors, so I will be. Blizzard is not real, and you're too old to be playing with imaginary friends. You have real friends, don't you? You have Danny! Play with him."

"I do play with him," Tucker said. "I play with Blizzard too, when I can."

"Not anymore," his dad said. "I'm putting an end to this."

He took the letter off the table as he stood up. Then he tore it up and threw it in the kitchen garbage can where it would have gotten instantly covered with the expired meatloaf Tucker's mom had just thrown away.

After that, Tucker's parents intercepted all of Blizzard's letters to him. Tucker tried to get the mail before they did, but every time he managed to, there was no letter from Blizzard in it anyway. They only came every six to eight weeks, after all. But now, he wasn't receiving any of them.

At his father's suggestion, Tucker made another friend once middle school started, a girl names Sam, who dressed in all black and scared most of his and Danny's bullies away.

Even so, Tucker still blew on the ice horn every once in a while, to let Blizzard know he hadn't forgotten him.

When winter came again, so did Blizzard. Now though, Tucker did make an effort to hid the yeti from his parents. He told Blizzard all about what his dad had said about him being too old for imaginary friends. He said it would probably be for the best if Blizzard stopped sending letters the rest of the year, because he wouldn't be able to get them anyway, and he'd probably get in trouble with his parents, too, since they thought Tucker was the one writing them.

Blizzard agreed, though he didn't seem happy about it. Tucker couldn't blame him. He wasn't happy about it either. Still, at least they managed to see each other about three or four times every winter and catch up.

Then, Danny's accident happened. When Tucker saw his friend come out of the portal, unconscious and visibly the wrong colors, his mind shot back to the first time he'd met Blizzard, when Danny's parents' experiment had caused him to suddenly pass out. He wished Blizzard was there to tell him what to do, but it was barely autumn, so there was no way to reach him.

He'd also never told Sam about the yeti, so if he had been there, she might've freaked out.

In the end, Danny turned out to be fine. Tucker never mentioned the incident to his parents. He'd only been allowed to come to the Fenton's house unsupervised again for a couple of years and had no intention of losing that privilege because of another one of Mr and Mrs Fenton's fucked up lab experiments. And Danny was fine.

More or less, anyway.

Tucker was more excited than any of them when Danny suggested they take his parent's specter speeder out to map the Ghost Zone. At that point, he was pretty sure the Ghost Zone and the Infinite Realms were the same place, and he thought if they searched enough of it, they might find the Far Frozen, and he might be able to see Blizzard more than just three or four times a year, during the snowy season.

They went into the Ghost Zone over a dozen times, and the more they tried to map it, the more they realized it was unmappable—or at least, Tucker realized. Everything on their map was in a different place than they'd last seen it. Everything in the Ghost Zone was constantly shifting and changing, and Tucker was pretty sure they'd never find the Far Frozen, especially not at the rate they were going.

Then, after months and months of exploring, they crash landed right in it.

Tucker didn't realize right away. He'd been only six years old the last time he'd seen the Realm of the Far Frozen, and he'd seen it through a wobbly glowing tear through space, and it didn't look all that different from any other icy wasteland. At first, all he knew was that it was cold and snowy and powder white as far as they eye could see. Then, they were attacked by a yeti, and instantly Tucker made the connection.

The yeti that was attacking them was not Blizzard. For one thing, he was a good few feet taller than Blizzard, and one of his arms was made of ice encasing bone. The way he was dressed also looked a lot more fancy than how Blizzard usually dressed. Based on all that, Tucker guessed that this yeti was Frostbite, the leader of the Far Frozen. Although, in the stories Blizzard had told him, Frostbite was a kind and compassionate leader, always level-headed.

None of those words really seemed to apply to the one attacking them. At least, until Danny plucked a thorn of ice from his paw and he regained his sense. Then he was calling Danny 'Great One' and enthusiastically offering to escort them all to the village.

On the walk over, through chattering teeth, Tucker asked Frostbite if he knew a yeti named Blizzard.

"Three, in fact," Frostbite replied. "Blizzard is almost as common a name as Tundra, or Glacier." After saying this however, Frostbite looked down at Tucker curiously. "Wait, you wouldn't happen to mean the medic apprentice, Blizzard?"

"That's him!"

"Amazing," Frostbite said, looking Tucker up and down with a look of awe. "To be perfectly honest, when Blizzard told us all he had made a human friend, we thought he was just telling stories. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You t-too," Tucker agreed.

"What are you two t-t-talking about?" Sam stammered through the cold.

"C-can we save this c-conversation for s-someplace warmer?" Danny requested.

The three teens passed the rest of the walk in silence, though Frostbite had no such problems with the cold and told them all about the village they were going to, and what yeti culture was like.

Eventually, they got into a nice, warm cave, and Frostbite handed out blankets and hot chocolate. Then he left claiming he had some business to attend to briefly in the rest of the village.

"It's exciting that we actually found this place," Tucker commented. "I've been looking for it since we first started trying to map the Ghost Zone."

"You knew it existed?" Sam asked, sounding suitably shocked.

"Yup," Tucker said. "When I was little, I went to Danny's house where his parents were doing ghost portal experiments and they all passed out from some ectoplasm reaction or something, I don't really remember that part, but I met a yeti ghost from here named Blizzard. I'll make sure to find him and introduce him to you before we leave."

"Oh yeah, I remember Blizzard," Danny said after a moment of thought. "Your snow monster friend that you played with back when our parents wouldn't let us go to each other's houses. I can't believe there's a chance he might actually be real."

"What do you mean 'might'?" Tucker demanded indignantly, putting his hands on his hip, although the effect was diminished by the blanket hanging over his shoulders. "I talked to Frostbite about him and he's totally real. Not that I was in any doubt."

Sam shook her head and stuck a hand out from under her blanket before immediately pulling it back inside.

"Hold up," she said. "You mean not only did you already know this place existed, but you're already friends with one of the ghosts from here?"

"Yup, and as soon as we get the chance, I'm gonna make sure we can meet him," Tucker said.

A few moments later, before the conversation even moved on from the topic, Frostbite returned with a familiar young yeti in tow. Tucker perked up immediately and stood to greet his old friend.

"Blizzard! Hey!"

"Tucker, it's good to see you again," the yeti said, pulling him into a hug. Blizzard's fur had always been cool, but it was also so soft that Tucker had never minded it. Blizzard pulled him away and looked him over. "Ancients, humans really do grow quickly. You're taller every time I see you, but I haven't seemed to grow at all."

Tucker laughed. Even though that was true, Blizzard was still a good foot taller than he was, and Tucker sincerely doubted he'd ever catch up to the yeti.

"I can't believe you're here!" Blizzard said.

"Neither can I," Tucker admitted. "I've been looking for this place for a while but I kinda stopped expecting to find it." He turned to his two human friends with a huge smile that was only a little bit smug. "Sam, Danny, meet Blizzard. Blizzard, these are my human friends, Danny and Sam."

"I am honored to meet you both," Blizzard said, his tone strangely formal compared to how he usually spoke to Tucker. "I did not know that Tucker was friends with the Great One. It his humbling to be in your presence."

Danny laughed awkwardly. Frostbite had explained the whole 'Great One' thing earlier, but as cool as it was, Danny wasn't used to that kind of attention, especially from ghost.

"It's nice to meet you too," Danny said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, though she seemed to be otherwise dumbstruck looking between Tucker and the Yeti.

They chatted for a while, and Tucker told Blizzard how they'd gotten to the Far Frozen, and about the Fenton Portal, excitedly telling the yeti it would would be a much more reliable way for both of them to visit each other, rather than having to rely on natural portals that opened unexpectedly and never stayed open for too long.

Eventually, though, the three human teens had to get going, Blizzard said goodby, promising to come visit once the weather was cold again, and more often than usual. For his part, Tucker said he'd come back to the Far Frozen to visit in the meantime—although next time, he'd be sure to dress warmer.

Tucker was smug as hell once Blizzard had left to get back to the medicine hut and the three teens were standing around the Infi-Map Frostbite had brought to take them home.

"So, is Blizzard the reason you're a furry?" Sam asked under her breath.

"Shut up!" Tucker hissed at her, though he could feel warmth rising into his cheeks.

She did shut up, but probably more because Frostbite had started to explain how the Infi-Map worked than because Tucker had asked her to.

[five-rivers]

Death is a personal thing.  

To be sure, everyone dies eventually, and, in that, if nothing else, they are equal.  But no two people know death the same way.  No two people are touched by death the same way.  No two people see death in the same way.  No two people are taken by death in the same way.  

And no one may know another’s death.  Not beyond a glimpse through a window at night, not beyond a tale of a country undiscovered.  

That country of death was much the same. 

The Ghost Zone.  The Spirit World.  The Infinite Realms.  

Many names.  Many faces.  Many forms.  

It was personal.  

.

Vlad Masters knew what the Ghost Zone looked like.  He had worked with Jack and Maddie to extrapolate its composition and appearance long before they’d even gotten the proto-portal running from the tiny samples of ectoplasm they’d been able to synthesize.  

Once they had… Well.  Even the small uncertainty he’d had before was gone.  The Ghost Zone was green and pulsating pain, ooze and rot, twisted abominations and power.  

He could feel it inside him, even in the hospital, even dying from ecto-acne.  He knew.  He knew.  

And his knowledge was vindicated the first time he stepped through a portal.  

.

Danny grew up hearing stories about ghosts, even if he didn’t believe in them.  Stories about how evil they were, generally, but also about what the Ghost Zone was supposed to be like.  Vast voids.  Glowing ectoplasm.  Islands of stability.  

It shaped him.  But it wasn’t the only thing that did that.  

(He remembered, distantly, Grandpa Fenton saying that he was going on one, last, long journey…)

He stood in front of the empty porta, smiling.  “You’re right.  Who knows what kind of awesome, super-cool things exist on the other side of that portal?”

Danny didn’t know.  But he imagined.  He imagined a journey of a lifetime, of a death, of an eternity.  

The light that killed him and saved him was green, but it was followed by diamond-studded black.  

His first journey into the Ghost Zone showed him a world of wonder.  Eternal night stretched as far as the eye could see, strewn with luminescent islands - each a wandering star, populated by strange trees, strange fruits, strange beings, strange technology, all glowing in the dark.  

.

For Sam, the Ghost Zone was a vast wilderness full of extinct and endangered creatures.  All those things Sam cared so much about saving.  All the things humanity had failed to save.  All the things humanity had driven into the dark.  

Not only a wilderness - a hungry, grasping wilderness.  Beautiful, but deadly and eager to take.  

It was about her activism.  Her passions.  Her understanding of killing.  

(It was really about Danny.)

(About losing him.)

(About dooming him.)

(About killing him.)

(Making him a member of a not-quite-species with only three members.)

But she could find her place here, too.  She knew.  The jungles, the deserts, the mountains, the tundra.  The creeping vines, the snarling beasts, the towering trees.  There was a place here for her.

.

The Ghost Zone was dead, and to Tucker Foley dead meant two things.  Broken tech and hospitals.  

His version of the Ghost Zone had both.  Great landfills and huge, almost industrial buildings that seemed to ooze illness and injury in an apocalyptic landscape.  There was rust and gray in the sky, streaked with mossy, algae-like green.  Verdigris.  Even gold oxidized and crumbled.  

The thing was, junk could be repurposed.  Broken things could be fixed, or scavenged for parts.  Brought back to life, as it were.  

He just had to avoid the hospitals, and everything would be fine.  

.

First and foremost, Jazz’s view of the Ghost Zone and ghosts in general was colored by the general concept of ‘her brother, the superhero.’

This was the world beyond the portal for her.  One where death wasn't, and she still didn't have to see.

.

Valerie hated the Ghost World and everything in it.  It was a bottomless pit that did nothing but take and take and take.  

… It did seem a little different, though, after the first time she'd actually worked with Phantom.  There seemed to be other changes after her second suit.  The whole place just felt more inviting.  

But surely that was all in her head. 

.

And Jack and Maddie?  Well.  They already knew everything there was to know about ghosts… and they knew they weren’t ‘souls of the dead’ or any such nonsense.  They were simply monsters from another dimension!  One made of ectoplasm and energy!  A green world!  An exciting world!

A hostile world.  

One that would do anything it could to lie to them, to trick them, to kill them.  Just like the ghosts that inhabited it.  

That's why they needed the Specter Speeder and all their other protective gear.  

That's why they needed protective gear, unlike, say, Sam, who could walk through her wilderness unharmed, so long as she kept an eye out for prehistoric megafauna, or Tucker, who'd had to get his tetanus shot renewed after a nasty fall into a junk pile that first week.  The Ghost Zone would destroy them, just like they tried to destroy it.  

That was just what death was like, after all.  

[brookston]

Holidays 8.11

Holidays

Alcatraz Day

Annual Medical Check-Up Day

Border Guard Day (Turkmenistan)

Brother's Day

Builder’s Day (Former USSR Nations)

Burry Man Parade Day (Scotland)

Cheech and Chong Day (San Antonio, Texas)

Chris Hemsworth Day

Constitution Day (Anguilla)

Day of the Latvian Freedom Fighters (Latvia)

Deimos and Phobos Discovery Day (Moons of Mars)

Dog Days of Summer end

811 Day

Fair Day (Puck Fair, Day 2; Ireland)

Festival of Happy Feet

Fiesta de Santa Clara (New Mexico)

Flag Day (Pakistan)

Freethinkers Day

Gay Uncles Day (a.k.a. Guncles Day)

Global Kinetic Sand Day

Green Bay Packers Day

Health Center Staff Appreciation Day

Heroes' Day (Zimbabwe)

Hip Hop Celebration Day

Hug a Tiny Day

Ingersoll Day

Inula Day (French Republic)

Koomu Alezer’i (Elder Scrolls)

Mountain Day (Japan)

National Align Your Teeth Day

National Canine Companion Graduation Day

National Day of Civic Hacking

National Face Mask Day

National Hip Hop Day

National Minority Day (Pakistan)

National Safe Digging Day

Navy Day (Bulgaria)

Nutritionist Day (Mexico)

Play in the Sand Day

Presidential Joke Day

Roller Rink Day

Son’s and Daughter’s Day

SOS Day

Veterinary Workers Day (Ukraine)

Watts Riots Anniversary Day (Los Angeles)

WIT Brag Day

World Krill Day

World Steelpan Day (Trinidad & Tobago)

Food & Drink Celebrations

International Fufu Day

National Bakewell Tart Day (UK)

National Instant Coffee Day

National Panini Day

National Raspberry Bombe Day

National Raspberry Tart Day

Independence & Related Days

Balochistan (from UK, 1947) [unrecognized]

Chad (from France, 1960)

Ebenthal (Declared; 2014) [unrecognized]

Penang (Ceded to the British by Rajah of Kedah; 1786)

2nd Sunday in August

Bagel Day [2nd Sunday]

Children’s Day (Chile) [2nd Sunday]

Day of Cantabria (Spain) [2nd Sunday]

Father’s Day (Brazil, Samoa) [2nd Sunday]

Gay Uncles Day [2nd Sunday]

Melon Day (Turkmenistan) [2nd Sunday]

National Day [2nd Sunday]

Spirit of ’45 Day [2nd Sunday]

Victory Day (Rhode Island) [2nd Sunday]

V-J Day (a.k.a. Victory Day) [2nd Sunday]

Weekly Holidays beginning August 11 (2nd Full Week of August)

Feeding Pets of the Homeless Week (thru 8.17) [2nd Week]

National Health Center Week (thru 8.17) [2nd Week]

National Resurrect Romance Week (thru 8.17) [2nd Full Week]

National Smile Week (thru 8.17) [2nd Full Week]

Festivals Beginning August 11, 2024

Beacon Sloop Club Corn Festival (Beacon, New York)

Bludfest (Milton Keynes, United Kingdom)

Carytown Watermelon Festival (Richmond, Virginia)

Comiket [Comic Market] (Tokyo, Japan) [thru 8.12]

Czech Heritage Festival (Bechyn, Minnesota)

Hugo Awards (Glasgow, Scotland)

Italian American Festival (Akron, Ohio) [thru 8.13]

Kadayawan Festival (Davao City, Philippines) [thru 8.18]

Montrose Blueberry Festival (Montrose, Michigan) [thru 8.18]

Oslo Jazzfestival (Oslo, Norway) [thru 8.17]

Feast Days

Alexander the Charcoal-Burner (Christian; Martyr)

Alex Haley (Writerism)

Ancestor Day III (Pagan)

Andre Dubus II (Writerism)

Athracht (a..k.a. Attracta or Araght; Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Blaan (a.k.a. Blane; Christian; Saint)

Byron (Positivist; Saint)

Clare of Assisi (Christian; Saint)

Clare Foley Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Claude Joseph Vernet (Artology)

Day Honoring Oddudua (a.k.a. Mother of All Gods; Santeria)

Don Freeman (Artology)

Enid Blyton (Writerism)

Equitius (Christian; Saint)

Fiacre (Christian; Saint)

Gaugericus (a.k.a. Gery; Christian; Saint)

Gerard of Gallinaro and His Companions (Christian)

Great Quackini (Muppetism)

Jim Lee (Artology)

John Henry Newman (Church of England)

Leila (Christian; Saint & Virgin)

Mick Foley Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Morris Weiss (Artology)

Philomena (Christian; Saint)

Puck Fair (Irish Fertility Festival; Everyday Wicca)

Rakish Bandhan 2022 (Hindusim) [Last day of Śrāvaṇa]

Rum Quaffing Day (Pastafarian)

Sidhe (Place of Peace; Celtic Book of Days)

Susanna (Christian; Saint)

Taurinus of Évreux (Christian; Saint)

Tiburtius and Chromatius (Christian; Martyrs)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Fortunate Day (Pagan) [32 of 53]

Prime Number Day: 223 [48 of 72]

Tomobiki (友引 Japan) [Good luck all day, except at noon.]

Premieres

The Abyss (Film; 1989)

Advise and Consent, by Allen Drury (Novel; 1959)

After Dark, My Sweet, by Jim Thompson (Novel; 1955)

Almost Human (TV Series; 2013)

American Graffiti (Film; 1973)

Atypical (TV Series; 2017)

C’est Chic, by Chic (Album; 1978)

Childhood's End, by Arthur C. Clarke (Novel; 1953)

Corduroy, by Don Freeman (Children’s Book; 1968)

Dangerous Minds (Film; 1995)

Danny Deckchair (Film; 2004)

Doug (Animated TV Series; 1991)

Down to Earth, by Jimmy Buffett (Album; 1970)

Food for Feeding’ (Disney Cartoon; 1950)

Free Ride, by The Edgar Winter Group (Song; 1973)

A Hard Day’s Night (Beatles US Film; 1964)

The Harmony of the World, by Paul Hindemith (Opera; 1957)

Henpecked (Oswald the Lucky Rabbit Cartoon; 1930)

Hey, Soul Sister, by Train (Song; 2009)

His Better Elf (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1958)

His Hare Raising Tale (WB LT Cartoon; 1951)

Hypnotic Eyes (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1933)

Le Freak, by Chic (Song; 1978)

I Left My Heart in San Francisco, by Tony Bennett (Song; 1962)

In This Corner (and Other Corners) of the World (Anime Film; 2017)

The Life of Emile Zola (Film; 1938)

The Magicians, by Lev Grossman (Novel; 2009)

Need You Know, by Lady Antebellum (Song; 2009)

Orphan’s Benefit (Disney Cartoon; 1934)

Party in the U.S.A., by Miley Cyrus (Song; 2009)

Pete’s Dragon (Film; 2016)

Popeye Makes a Movie (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1950)

Puppet Love (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1944)

The Psychedelic Experience, by Timothy Leary (Science Book; 1964)

The Ren & Stimpy Show (Animated TV Series; 1991)

The Replacements (Film; 2000)

Rugrats (Animated TV Series; 1991)

Runaway Brain (Disney Cartoon; 1995)

The Screwdriver (Woody Woodpecker Cartoon; 1941)

Step Up (Film; 2006)

There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly, by Pam Adams (Children’s Book; 1973)

3:47 EST, by Klaatu (Album; 1976)

Two-Headed Giant (Terrytoons Cartoon; 1939)

The View (TV Talk Show; 1997)

A Walk in the Clouds (Film; 1995)

What If…? (Animated TV Series; 2021)

You Beat Me To the Punch, by Mary Wells (Song; 1962)

Today’s Name Days

Klara, Susanna (Austria)

Jasminka, Jasna, Klara, Suzana (Croatia)

Zuzana (Czech Republic)

Herman (Denmark)

Sanna, Sanne, Susanna, Suusi (Estonia)

Sanna, Sanni, Susanna, Susanne (Finland)

Claire, Gilberte, Suzanne (France)

Klara, Susanne (Germany)

Efpious (Greece)

Tiborc, Zsuzsanna (Hungary)

Chiara, Lelia, Susanna (Italy)

Liega, Olga, Zita (Latvia)

Klara, Ligija, Visalgas, Visvilė, Zuzana (Lithuania)

Tarald, Torvald (Norway)

Aleksander, Herman, Ligia, Lukrecja, Włodzimierz, Włodziwoj, Zula, Zuzanna (Poland)

Zuzana (Slovakia)

Clara, Susana (Spain)

Susanna (Sweden)

Susanna (Ukraine)

Laila, Layla, Leila, Leilani, Lela, Lelia, Nayeli (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 224 of 2024; 142 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of Week 32 of 2024

Celtic Tree Calendar: Coll (Hazel) [Day 9 of 28]

Chinese: Month 7 (Ren-Shen), Day 8 (Ding-Wei)

Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]

Hebrew: 7 Av 5784

Islamic: 5 Safar 1446

J Cal: 14 Purple; Sevenday [14 of 30]

Julian: 29 July 2024

Moon: 41%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 27 Dante (8th Month) [Byron]

Runic Half Month: As (Gods) [Day 4 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 53 of 94)

Week: 2nd Full Week of August

Zodiac: Leo (Day 21 of 31)

[deadguydeathmatch]

The Dead Guy Death Match Bracket Is Here!

Round 1 will be split into 4 waves of 16 24 hour polls and each wave will be posted 24 hours after the previous. The first wave will start on Tuesday the 18th of April at 3pm BST

The matchups are listed under the readmore and will be hyperlinked to the polls when they go up.

The matchups were all randomised although I did make minor adjustments if I thought one was much too unfair.

Also tagging @tournamentdirectory as I haven't already

Wave 1:

Charles Foster Kane (Citizen Kane) Vs Gavroche Thenardier (Les Miserables)

Leif (Bug Fables) Vs Queen Serenity (Sailor Moon)

L (Death Note) Vs Jonny D'Ville (The Mechanisms)

Noah Czerny (The Raven Cycle) Vs Lee Everett (The Walking Dead)

Pat Butcher (BBC Ghosts) Vs Xerxes Break (Pandora Hearts)

Captain Orimar Vale (Skyjacks Campaign Podcast) Vs Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks)

Diallos Hoslow (Elden Ring) Vs Rachel Amber (Life Is Strange)

Andrei Grandier (Rose Of Versailles) Vs Constance Blackwood (Ride The Cyclone)

Spock (Star Trek) Vs Maria Robotnik (Sonic The Hedgehog)

Kravitz (The Adventure Zone) Vs Sal Fisher (Sally Face)

Mari (Omori) Vs Ianto Jones (Torchwood)

Nate (Leverage) Vs Max (Sam and Max)

Owen Carvour (Spies Are Forever) Vs Vylad Ro'Meave (Minecraft Diaries)

Neil Perry (Dead Poet's Society) Vs Sayaka Miki (Madoka Magica)

Flapjack (The Owl House) Vs Maes Hughes (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Loki (Marvel) Vs Adam Faulkner Stanheight (Saw)

Wave 2:

Obi Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) Vs Diggory Graves (Hello From The Hallowoods)

Hugo Oak (Kipo And The Age Of Wonderbeasts) Vs Leonardo Hamato (Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Movie)

Chara (Undertale) Vs Magnus Chase (Magnus Chase)

River Song (Doctor Who) Vs Micheal Afton (Five Nights At Freddy's)

Catherine Earnshaw (Wurthering Heights) Vs Tara Maclay (Buffy The Vampire Slayer)

Laudna (Critical Role) Vs Aerith Gainsborough (Final Fantasy)

Mia Fey (Ace Attorney) Vs Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby)

Meiko 'Menma' Honma (The Flower We Saw That Day) Vs Claire Foley (Professor Layton)

Grelle Sutcliff (Black Butler) Vs Skelly (Hades)

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil) Vs Portgas D Ace (One Piece)

Polly Geist (Monster Prom) Vs Hua Cheng (Heaven's Official Blessing)

Avatar Kyoshi (Avatar The Last Airbender) Vs Galivar Kholin (Stormlight Archive)

Pink/Orchid (Animation Vs Animator/Minecraft) Vs Lewis Pepper (Mystery Skulls Animated)

Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb) Vs Stoick The Vast (How To Train Your Dragon)

Evelyn Hooper (Less is Morgue) Vs Manny Calavera (Grim Fandango)

Kokichi Oma (Danganronpa) Vs Silco (Arcane)

Wave 3:

Eurydice (Greek Mythology) Vs Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead)

Jack Twist (Brokeback Mountain) Vs Charles Vane (Black Sails)

Howard Hamlin (Better Call Saul) Vs Jason Grace (Riordanverse)

Nora Hildegard (The Vampire Diaries) Vs Gerard Keay (The Magnus Archives)

Manny (Swiss Army Man) Vs Matoro (Bionicle)

Wen Ning (Mo Dao Zu Shi) Vs Kikyo (Inuyasha)

Yuri Nakamura (Angel Beats) Vs Simon Kain (Pathologic)

Deep Throat (The X Files) Vs La Signora (Genshin Impact)

Esmeralda (The Hunchback Of Notre Dame Novel) Vs Ursula Zandt/Silhouette (Watchmen Comics)

Nageki Fujishiro (Hatoful Boyfriend) Vs Tuba (Infinity Train)

Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) Vs Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption)

Oda Sakunoske (Bungou Stray Dogs) Vs Rose Quartz (Steven Universe)

Duncan (Dragon Age) Vs Junpei Yoshino (Jujitsu Kaisen)

Quincey Morris (Dracula) Vs Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)

Deadman (DC Comics) Vs Breakdown (Transformers)

Draal The Deadly (Troll Hunters) Vs Castiel (Supernatural)

Wave 4:

Matsuri Kanroji (Demon Slayer) Vs Midori (Your Turn To Die)

Kelsier (Mistborn) Vs Peter 'Parker' Yang (Malevolent Podcast)

Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6) Vs Noriaki Kakyoin (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

Erik (The Phantom Of The Opera) Vs Matthias Helvar (Six Of Crows)

Tigerstar (Warrior Cats) Vs Boromir (The Lord Of The Rings)

Joel Miller (The Last Of Us) Vs Pedro Madrigal (Encanto)

Rufus Emeterio (They Both Die At The End) Vs King Arthur (King Arthur)

Bunny Corcoran (The Secret History) Vs Lenore (Nevermore Webtoon)

Sliver Of Straw (Rain World) Vs Bow (Inanimate Insanity)

Chidi Anagonye (The Good Place) Vs Nicholas D Wolfwood (Trigun)

Tiso (Hollow Knight) Vs Okudera (Yakuza 5)

Koki Kariya (The World Ends With You) Vs Horst Cabal (Johannes Cabal)

Mr Boddy (Clue) Vs Garret Jacob Hobbs (Hannibal)

Eddie Kaspbrak (IT) Vs Emily (Corpse Bride)

Ash Lynx (Banana Fish) Vs Ophelia (Hamlet)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) Vs Kili (The Hobbit)

[protege-not-protagonist]

Criminal Minds: The Protégé Chapter 9

Ch 9: The Mountain King- Pt. 2

Blurb: The Appalachian case proves to be a challenge. The Victims remain unidentified. The geography is screwy. There's a new behaviour the Team hasn't seen before. The Profile is unclear and immediately, Grace is unsettled by something about this case, but she struggles to figure out exactly what her instincts are telling her.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Audience: mature audience for depictions of violence and sexual references

Author's Note: if you see a trigger warning that concerns you, you can scroll to end and I'll have a brief description what happens. And how to read around it. TW: violence, crime scene depiction, This case mentions sexual assault, autopsy, kidnapping, decapitation, Necrophilia, slight body horror involving needles (mentioned in autopsy)

BAU Jet, US Airspace, Monday, July 17th 12:20PM

Over the weekend Grace had a think over what Dr Reid had said, and how the geoprofile in the last case had revealed an important aspect. So she had spent a whole day designing a template for a quick reference fact file and saved it to her tablet. Now, if she completed this for every case on the plane trip over, by the time they landed, she would have a profile of every town and enough facts to reference quickly if her team asked for specifics. If they revisited any places, she’d eventually be able to do it from memory.

The Harrisburg–Carlisle Metropolitan Statistical area encompassed the counties of Perry Cumberland and Dauphin, and right through the centre of it was the Appalachian trail and Susquehanna valley. And in the middle of that was State Game Land 170 reserve which the unsub seemed to inhabit.

The total area had a population of 603,493 according to the last census. The majority of that were under 40 and white. Violent crimes and homicides were low, property crimes and theft were common, but that was to be expected with over 20% of the population below the poverty line. Though none of that probably was probably relevant as the bodies were dumped close to isolated boroughs and townships with less than 3000 people.

The region had a lot of interesting features in its history with timber and agriculture being the main historical industries with coal mining and industrial towns in the surrounds. Grace continued to trawl through census data and crime stats and compile similar data. Grace knew there was no way she could know enough to pass as a local, but she wanted to be as prepared as she could in the 30 minutes before the plane landed. She had heard that the many Appalachian communities distrusted people from outside their region. It was her hope that knowing enough to not be ignorant would combat some of the hostility that they could receive coming into an investigation as federal agents.

‘So if you named your violin Vincenzo, is Foley an animal or an instrument?’ Luke asked halfway through the flight.

‘He’s a pet.’ She didn't look up from her tablet, viewing the walking trail routes around the towns.

'You have a pet?' Tara asked in a quizzical tone from the seat next to her.

'Yeah, why does it surprise you guys?' She glanced up to see Dr Lewis grinning back at her.

‘Grace has a pet, and she won’t tell me what it is. It’s not a dog, and she doesn’t like cats,' Luke explained to Tara.

‘Not a dog or a cat, hamster?’ Tara asked.

‘Nope.’ She smiled, continuing to work on pinpointing key features on the maps.

‘Fish?’ Luke guessed with a smile and pointed at her. ‘Tropical saltwater fish, because you miss Hawaii!’

‘I See the logic there but, no,’ she grinned. This was more fun than having them try to guess her birthday. ‘I’ll give you a hint. My dear sweet companion Foley is the reason I have to live on the Maryland side of the river.’ She looked up at them with an evil grin.

‘Wait, you live in Maryland?’ Tara frowned.

‘Yeah, Oxen Hill.’ She said with a smirk.

‘How?’ both of them said at once.

‘You said you have a car today in Penelope’s office, so you do drive, so that is like what an hour’s car ride normal and hour and half hour?’ Luke said.

‘Yeah it, but it’s been better since Covid, most people work remote, commute is not too bad these days.’ She said with a shrug. ‘What can I say? I love my little guy. He lights up my world. If that means I have to drive a little further to work, it’s worth it.’

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. One new text message. She saw the contact name and opened it immediately.

‘Oxen Hill is not too far from Indian Head and the surrounds has a bit of forest, undeveloped land. A lot of a space… Foley, or should I say Foal-ly is a horse.’ Simmons joined in and theorised.

‘Nah, she said he’s in her apartment.’ Luke shook his head.

Basement Buddy: Hey G, are you in town tonight?

Grace stared at the message, blinking three times. He’d had texted her during the day. Texted Her while he was still at work. While he knew she would be at work. She checked her watch; not his usual break time. She leant back in her chair and subtly tried to shield the screen from Tara’s view.

G.M: No sorry. On case. What’s up?

She stared enrapt as the three dots showed he was typing.

Basement Buddy: Nothing. Just wanted to hang out.

Typing the word ‘nothing’ at the start of the sentence indicated that there was, in fact, something he was hoping to deflect from. Which meant he wanted to talk to her, but knowing she was on a case he didn’t want to bother her or make her worry. Which meant something was wrong.

What happened? R U ok? -She typed, but then backspaced, opting instead for:

G.M: Whens ur shift end?

Basement Buddy: 9

G.M: Do you want me to call you?

Basement Buddy: I’m ok

No emoji in that response. That was a lie. She typed her reply:

G.M: Want me to write an essay to tell u how I know that’s not true?

G.M:Chat tonight?

He took a full two minutes to reply. The three dots disappearing and reappearing. She nervously bit her lip. Had she been too assertive?

Basement Buddy: I’ll wait by the phone. 😉

She breathed again.

Basement Buddy: Btw. Got it in 4.

She snorted and shook her head. A deflection, but a welcome one. At least he agreed to chat later. The cryptic message was about the Wordle. They must have been some of the only people that still did it every day.

G.M: Got it in 3.

G.M: I win. Sorry.

He sent the GIF of the old man holding his chest in pain.

Basement Buddy: No your not you Sadist 😝

G.M:*You’re

‘Who’s got you smiling like that Five-O?’ Luke peaked over the table.

She pulled her phone to her chest. ‘Your mom.’

‘Oooooh ho ho,’ Tara laughed.

‘Grace has a special friend?’ Luke said in a singsong tone.

‘No, I couldn’t resist a well placed your mom joke and, I have land lady who uses a lot of emojis and they are hilariously in the wrong context. I mean, look-‘ she leant over and showed him a text from her she got this morning covering the time stamp with her thumb.

Mrs Hudson: Will get 💦💦 ⬅️ 👀 by tonight

'She is saying the water leak I’ve had is being checked today, but it just looks so suggestive.’

‘Heh. That is funny. But we-' He gestured to Tara and him ‘-are on to you.’

‘I bet it’s you it’s Ashley from fraud detection, Ashley was making eyes at her the whole seminar.’ Tara smirked.

‘She was?’ Grace said. That whole seminar she thought Ashley had forgotten her glasses or needed eye drops or something.

‘Nah, it’s got to be Cody in ballistics at the Seattle office. They spoke for 45 minutes about ice bullets. Nothing to do with the case. Tangents and fun facts, that’s Five-O’s love language.’

‘It was actually meat bullets, and it was case related.’ She hid her head in her hands. ‘Rossi, when are we going to focus on our approach to the case?’ Grace called out for rescue.

Rossi chuckled, ‘Okay, behave, kids. That’s enough teasing each other. Don’t make me tell your mother.’ He got up and stood between the seats. ‘When we land, I’ll go to the local PD and set up. Simmons, Alvez, you go to the crime scene and see what you can learn. JJ and Matthews go to the M.E. See what you can find. Tara, can you try to bring in the family and friends of victim one? We need to talk to people from the new year’s party. I’ll help with interviews once we’ve set up. Hope was the first victim. She is significant. We will reconvene tonight at 7 to share what we found. We start with victimology and M.O. hopefully this case will start to take shape.’

-------

Appalachian Trail, Wertzvile, PA 1:40 PM

‘Good afternoon, I’m SSA Alvez and this is SSA Simmons. You are Detective Garner and Head Ranger DeBraun, I presume?’

The detective stuck his hand out and shook both of theirs. ‘Welcome to Wertzville agents. Sorry you aren’t visiting under better circumstances.’

‘We get that a lot, detective. Can you talk us through how the body was found? Was it similar to the previous two?’

The detective looked at them with a tilted head. ‘Well, the missing head is pretty unique. Can’t say I’ve seen this kinda thing before the first one, has to be the same guy. This isn’t the big city, homicides are rare. This though? This I’m hoping is rarer.’

‘What I meant to ask was is the presentation of the body similar or different from the others?’ Simmons asked.

Head Ranger DeBraun answered this time, ‘I was the first responder. I’ve also seen all three scenes, it’s the same reserve. I would say this scene is pretty identical. Similar story with discovery as well. The hikers found me and another ranger doing track condition survey.

'They were pretty shaken up. There’s spotty reception here, if you’re not with the right provider, you can find yourself in dead spots that are miles wide. The couple had been trying to get help for half an hour. They’re photographer’s, they started out at 5, wanted to get an early morning shot of the creek with the low cloud that sort of thing. They found me and showed me where it was. On the way to the body I radioed it in to Garner here, cause he was on the first one.’

‘Can you point out where the body was?’ Alvez said. The ranger lead them over to the creek bed.

‘Like the other sites, bodies were right on the edge, wrapped up and left there. The second one had her feet in the water, but others were just close to the edge. All sites were on slight bends of the creeks, hidden from the trail’s view, but they’re kind of scenic points. People often venture off the track to take photos here.’

The detective walked up and pointed to the area where the evidence flags showed the bodies had been laid out. ‘The only other difference is this time there were two, but everything otherwise is the same.

See, at the water’s edge, there are no footprints that trail back toward the track, no shoe prints we can identify. Judging by that and the fact that is takes about an hour to get here on foot using the trail. I don’t think this guy was carrying them all the way. One theory we’re working with is he’s got a boat. Jumps out stands in the river, throws the bodies out and goes back the way he came. We had the dogs out here. Nothing came of that except that he came from upstream, east aways.’

‘That’s toward Summerdale, Marysville, right?’ Simmons asked.

‘Sure is, and the site there had the same thing happen when we brought the dogs out. They lost the scent down steam heading further west.’ Detective Garner shook his head. ‘Our combined police forces and rangers swept that forest cleaner than a germophobe’s soap box, found nothing.’

‘So the bodies were never in the water fully submerged, just on the edge?’ Alvez asked.

‘Nope. Just toes touching for one, but otherwise laid out on the bank.’ Garner confirmed.

‘If you want my opinion agents, it's a forensic countermeasure. This is bear country. Animals come to the water’s edge regularly to feed and drink. I guess this guy was hoping they'd clean it up. And honestly, that has me worried since we've got a big gap of time between victims.’ DeBraun surmised.

Simmons nodded, ‘I agree with you both that it’s unlikely, but if this guy was to come on foot, how long would it take him to get to a site like this from town? Is the trail connected at to where the other bodies were found on?’

‘Of for sure, the trail connects eventually. It’s all the same river, same valley, same mountain range. But there are obstacles. As the crow flies, we’re pretty close, but in actuality, going around the mountains would take a day and a half at least to get to Marysville. Each site was a over a hour’s walk away from the populated area’s entry on the trails. That’s a long time and way to be carrying a body.’

‘Any secluded places nearby here or the other sites?’ Simmons asked.

Garner laughed darkly, ‘It’s the forest. If a tree falls on you in the forest, and there’s no one around, there’s no scream. And most people 5 minutes from the town centres have acreage. It would be harder to find a busy area round here. You can see why we’re worried.’

‘I more thinking abandoned places, places nomadic types would live. Whoever did this knows the area very well. They probably spend a lot of time in the wilderness. Can you think of any caves or bunkers or ranger huts?’ Alvez clarified, looking at Simmons to see if he was also getting the same idea he was.

‘Not really. I'm aware of a cave nearby that’s inhabited, but Booboo’s not your guy. He’s got a microchip and an alibi.’ DeBraun said.

‘Booboo?’ Luke asked.

‘A bear?’ Simmons guessed.

‘Yeah. Caves are rare here. I doubt there would be one uninhabited. I doubt a human would be brave enough to live in one.’ DeBraun explained.

‘You know of any hermits living in the area?’ Alvez asked.

‘I can think of a few transients that walk the trail between towns,’ Garner said. ‘I’ll get you people a list.’

-----

Central Police Station, Harrisburg, PA, 2:23 PM

‘So the police report seems to suggest that Hope walked into the forest in the middle of the night in winter? But your testimony means that Hope was taken from her car as she drove home, and the car was dumped back at your place. So you can see why we are a bit confused, Jenny, because these are two very different stories. You want to tell us which one is right?’ Rossi asked the young woman who sat in silence across from them. She didn’t look up at them. ‘See, people don’t usually just walk into the forest at night, especially young girls like yourself and Hope. And when you say to the police that you walked Hope to her car at midnight and saw her drive off, then in the morning you call the cops because her car is still out the front of your place, it doesn’t add up. It’s a bad look for you Jenny. It implies that you know why she went into that forest and you are hiding something from us?’

Jenny fidgeted in her seat, but remained silent.

‘I don’t think you did this, because you called the cops as early as you did, but I think you’re scared that you’re going to implicate yourself or someone else by telling the truth. We know you were probably drinking underage, maybe on drugs. It was New Year’s party after all, but we don’t care about that, we need to find who did this to Hope. You need to help us by telling us the truth of what happened that night because Jenny, cause this guy is still out there, he killing other girls.’ Dr Lewis said.

Jenny looked up at that news and swallowed. Tara observed the sheen of unshed tears as she shakily opened her mouth.

‘It was a stupid dare.’ She began and her hand shook, placing down the photo of Hope she had been clinging on to face down on the table. ‘We were drunk-No, I was drunk. Hope wasn’t. She was good like that. At about 11, people started to dare people to do this thing we called 7 minutes in hell, where you give someone something scary to do for seven minutes.

‘There was a stretch of track that went past the back of the houses on my street, backed onto my yard. But you could come off the trail down the end of the street and walk back in front of the houses. It was only a 10-minute walk. After the first person got dared to do it… We all did it. In the dark, with only our phone light, we had to film it to prove we did it. We all did it, but… Hope, she was scared. She chickened out.

‘We laughed at her… We locked her outside on the porch for the rest of the party as a joke. I was drunk, and I was stupid. I told her she away plays everything safe, and she never does anything fun that she was a boring person. I told her that. It wasn’t true. Our last night together, I was such a shitty friend. I was awful to her. After that she said she was leaving… I watched her from the window walk back to the car…’

‘But you didn’t see her drive away, did you?’ Dr Lewis asked.

Jenny shook her head and sobbed. ‘It was stupid. It was my fault.’

‘So she was taken from her car off the street?’ Rossi asked.

‘No…’ Jenny cried harder. ‘I-I opened the window and told her she couldn’t come back unless she had proof she walked it.’ Tears spilled down her cheek and her voice cracked. ‘When I saw her car still there when I woke up, I knew something bad had happened. I think she, got out of the car and tried to walk the trail. She’s dead because of that stupid dare! She’s dead because I told her she was boring!’

Rossi looked to his colleague and sighed, passing a tissue box across the table to her.

‘Do you think Hope probably had her phone with her, to capture proof?

‘Yeah, she would have filmed it.’ Jenny sniffed.

‘Jenny, was anyone else missing or leave early that night?’ Dr Lewis asked, reviewing the answers she had given to police.

‘No, but I passed out about 12:30, Hope was the only one who left early.’

The same answer she had given before, but she had to be thorough, if Jenny had lied the first time, then she might have lied about something else.

‘Did you see anyone hanging around the trails before or after that night?’

Jenny shook her head ‘No. But it’s a trail. People walk it all the time. Especially the bit that goes behind our property. People go jogging there.’

‘Can you remember anything strange happening at the time? Any repair men around, surveyors, salesmen, anything like that?’

‘No.’ She shook her head again, giving no knew answers. Tara nodded and was about to signal to Rossi that they had all they could get when Jenny’s expression changed. Tara cocked her head

‘What did you just think of Jenny?’ She asked.

‘It’s stupid.’

‘Nothing is stupid, it could help.’

‘It sounds crazy, but… I heard things, from the forest.’

‘Like what? Noises? Screams?’ Tara prompted.

‘No, um… in the following days… sometimes, when I was in the yard, I thought I heard someone call my name.’

‘Why didn’t you tell the police?’ Rossi asked.

Jenny hung her head, ‘I thought it was just in my head. You don’t understand… when you live here, it’s different. There’s a saying: if you heard your name called in the woods, no you didn’t. Look people say they hear crazy things all the time, and they say there’s like skin walkers, feral people and cannibals. Strange things that happen out there in those hills. I just tried to forget it. Pretend I didn’t hear it.’

‘Do you remember exactly what the voice that called to you said, was it just your name or was there anything else?’ Tara pressed.

‘It was really weird actually, that’s why I thought it was in my head.’ She blew her nose and a look of concentration crossed her face. ‘I would hear my name. But sometimes I heard him say, “Jenny… Your friend trips inside the hill.” Over and over. She trips inside the hill. Like that’s crazy right? No one would say that? That had to be myself hearing things?’

She shared a glance with Rossi, what were they supposed to make of that? Sure it could have been Jenny’s internalised guilt manifesting in auditory hallucinations, but it could of also been the killer attempting to lure her too. And more disturbingly, the later seemed more likely.

‘Why didn’t you tell someone this Jenny?’

‘I thought I was going crazy or something. I don’t believe in the supernatural, but everyone around here is like superstitious. There are legends. You don’t have to believe them to be scared of them. I thought maybe, me hearing my name from the forest, was like my punishment. Like the forest wanted me too.’

Tara stood and opened the door, gesturing to Jenny that she could leave.

‘You’re free to go Jenny, but we’re going to need any footage you and your friends have from that night.’

‘Yeah of course, I’ll get it for you, and tell the others to do the same.’ She nodded and hurried out of the interview room.

‘If that girl would have told the truth the police investigation would have not spent a month looking at Hope’s car for evidence.’ Rossi shook his head and packed up the files.

‘It seems she’s is suffering enough,’ Tara observed. ‘She has to live with that night being the last time she saw her best friend.’

-------

Harrisburg Morgue & Coroner's office, Harrisburg, PA 1:15 PM

‘Hello all, I’m Agent Grace Matthews, I’m just here to examine you. I’ll be as quick and respectful as I can. I want to figure out what happened and who did this to you.’ She greeted the three bodies laid out on the metal slabs under white sheets. JJ shared an uncomfortable glance with the medical examiner, who Grace had unintentionally ignored on the way in.

‘I’m SSA Jareau,’ JJ shook the Medical examiner’s hand, giving her an apologetic look. ‘Dr Davis?’

‘Ah, Actually No, I’m Dr. Ganley, I’m the new coroner assigned here. Dr Davis retired last month. But I’ve gotten up to date with the case. Hope has been buried, but here is her report. We still have Jane Doe here-’ she pointed to the first one, ‘-And victims Three and Four, I’ve just finished their reports.’

‘And what have we learned, Dr Ganley?’ Grace turned to her and glanced down at the Doctor’s extended hand. ‘Oh, sorry…’ Grace extended her hand half-heartedly and avoided eye contact, focusing instead on the doctor’s hand in her own. Grace took her hand back and smiled up at the doctor, but she was met with a frown and a raised eyebrow. Dr Ganley turned back to JJ and continued talking to her.

Grace was immediately put at unease. She stared at her hand, flexing it and un-flexing it a few times. She inspected her fingers as the doctor continued to talk to JJ. It felt wrong. Grace hated physical greetings from people she didn’t know. If Covid had been good for one thing, it was reducing the number of times she had to awkwardly oblige the invasion of her personal space. But usually as a woman, and a young, timid-appearing woman, people tended to not bother. Generally, she had observed men tended to only shake hands with other men or people in charge. When women initiated handshakes, it always read as more assertive than friendly to her. Well, that was how she perceived it. But there was just something about that action Grace felt she missed. That it wasn’t just her being unreasonable.

Was it the context? It was odd that a person in the medical field would extend a physical greeting in a post pandemic world. Was it the feel of the hands? The Doctor’s hands weren’t gloved or clammy from being inside gloves recently. Fair enough, she had just been writing a report. Was it the doctor’s eagerness to shake her hand even though she gave cues she did not want to? But then again, Dr Ganley was the new coroner. Maybe she was trying to be assertive and display confidence.

‘-Cause of death was decapitation.’ Dr Ganley finished and passed a clipboard with the reports to JJ.

‘In all cases?’ Grace chimed in, looking around for a box of latex gloves.

Dr. Ganley inhaled in a shocked laugh. ‘I would say so, yes.’

‘From the photos, I noticed Hope, and Two have rough severances, indicating multiple hacks and struggle, but Three and Four have cleaner cuts.’ She spotted the gloves near the wash sink and made her way over to it and began to scrub up.

‘That is correct,’ Dr Ganley confirmed.

‘So what killed Three and Four?’ Grace prompted more directly, pulling on latex gloves.

‘I’m sorry Agent Matthews, I don’t follow?’ Dr Ganley gave her a pacifying smile with an irritated undertone as she fiddled with a gold ring worn as a pendant on a chain at her neck. Married, Grace observed. Medical professionals often worn their wedding rings as pendants so they didn’t interfere with gloves. People played with their jewellery when they were anxious. Grace felt bad. She didn’t want the doctor to feel anxious, but she couldn’t let a mistake like that go unchecked.

Grace walked with purpose over to the slab and peeled back the sheets. ‘Excuse me,’ she whispered to victims and folded down the sheets. ‘A clean cut like this indicates Three and Four were already dead or incapacitated at the time of decapitation, so what caused it?’

‘It was my assessment that the cleaner cut was due to the killer gaining experience.’ Dr Ganley huffed as she scrubbed up and put gloves on.

‘Experience doesn’t render a victim motionless while a killer hacks their head off with an axe, it just reduces the number of swings it takes. What you see between Hope and victim Two is experience, what you see here-’ Grace pointed at the distinctly different cuts between victims Two and Three. ‘-Shows an evolution in M.O.’

Dr Ganley stared at Grace incredulously.

JJ broke the tension. ‘Matthews, hey, Dr Ganley is just doing what she can. See here she has run tox screens on the new victims. If there was a sedative, we will know soon. This is still a preliminary examination, right Dr Ganley? I imagine you don’t see a lot of homicides like this in these parts?’

‘Yes, this is the first one I have encountered that is this violent,’ she sighed. ‘I am still waiting for a few reports to come back. Most importantly DNA, to check that the semen is from the same individual, we’re also waiting on toxicology, particulates from the victims’ fingernails, and fingerprints for the ID of the victims.’

JJ looked over the report, ‘So Three was killed about three days before being discovered, and Four only one day before. And then both bodies were disposed of at the same time? Are the time lines similar for Hope and Two?’

‘Hope we have the best time line for. We know she went missing on the 1st of January 2022. Her body was found January 6th 2022, at discovery she had been dead about 24 hours. Two, we don’t know how long she was held by the killer, but she had been dead for about 72 hours at the time of her body being discovered.’ Dr Ganley reported and sighed, ‘Which brings me to the sexual assau-What are you doing, Agent?’

JJ turned her head to see Grace had pulled back the sheets to the chest of victim Three and was lifting the body up, looking at their back.

‘Grace-’ JJ began in warning.

‘There’s no pooling at their back. Have you pumped them?’ She asked.

‘I would prefer for integrity of evidence that only I handle the cadaver, Agent Matthews.’

'Cadaver?’ Grace asked, somewhat incensed. She could feel herself getting worked up, but she was unsure why. She was helping. Why was the doctor irked by her questions? Grace looked to JJ’s face. JJ didn’t seem to observe any problems, so Grace had no reason to get so worked up. She took a breath. I need to be polite, trust the Dr Ganley was doing her job the best she could. ‘I apologise, doctor, if I overstepped. I just believe it’s important for our profile,’ Grace explained and gently laid Three back down. Softly apologising as she did.

‘Well, you can talk to them without touching them.’ Dr Ganley said, folding her arms across her chest.

Grace turned to stare at her. JJ eyed her with a look, as if to say, ‘Don’t.’ But it was too late.

‘I understand you might not have autopsied murder victims very often in a city like this Dr Ganely, but these women, have already been dehumanised enough, they’re not cadavers for you to practice on or poke around, they did not volunteer themselves to this. I choose to talk to the dead because that’s I how I show respect. And I know that it’s not a foreign concept to you because you’ve been taught to talk to corpses in medical school. It’s etiquette, but you obviously don’t practice it. Instead, you protect yourself by reducing these women to objects. Now, it’s okay to be nervous, it’s okay to be detached and to be clinical, but if you’re going to be disrespectful to these women or mock me for how I deal with the dead Dr Ganley, then please don’t do it around me.’

‘I didn’t mean any offense, Agent Matthews.’ Her demeanour shifted. Dr Ganley seemed to make herself smaller and her eyes watered.

‘And neither did I.’ Well, that was a lie. But looking at her face now, Grace regretted taking a tone.

JJ Stepped in between the two and smiled nervously, ‘Doctor, I’m sorry, Agent Matthews is our resident expert with mutilations and overkill. She can forget not everyone is used to the level of violence we see in our field.’ She shot Grace a chastising look. ‘Can we continue?’

The doctor smiled curtly at them both and walked between the tables, ‘To answer Agent Matthews’s earlier question. Only victim Two, has been pumped. She was embalmed after her autopsy to preserve the body. Three and Four have not been pumped yet, but Agent, the absence of discolouration from pooling is because there was no blood left to pool, which again I believe is consistent with decapitation.’

Grace bit her tongue. That was not correct. Decapitations left blood pooling in the feet and limbs, at least. For no blood pooling to occur after three days, meant complete and utter exsanguination. Perhaps the bodies had been hung upside down after decapitation.

‘Your killer also washes his victims. All of them have small scrapes and abrasions, like they were dragged over rock at some point, but getting particulates was difficult. Where there were traces of dirt and blood on the body, they have been cleaned. But that brings me to the sexual assault…’ Dr Ganley lifted the lower half of the sheet of victim Three.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JJ Stepped to the side, averting her eyes.

‘Excuse me Mam,’ Grace said.

‘What?’ Dr Ganley turned around.

‘I was talking to her.’ Grace inspected the legs of victim Three. There were no indicators of a ligature marks or anything else that would indicate the body was hung upside down. But as Dr Ganley parted her legs. Grace grimaced. She knew what the medical examiner was going to say, and it made her feel queasy.

Dr Ganley pointed with a probe as she explained, ‘They all have traces of semen. He didn’t clean them here, so I think the cleaning wasn’t a forensic counter measure. But here’s a thing we haven’t been able to tell until now with the newer bodies, because they’ve been found relatively quickly. As you maybe able to tell from the state of victims’ genitals Agent Matthews…’

‘We’ve got a necrophile.’ Grace finished in disgust.

‘Eugh,’ JJ remarked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grace moved over to victim Four’s table.

‘Pardon me Mam, I’m sorry I have to look.’ She lifted the sheet. She had to check the same indicators were on this victim. Dr Ganley hovered over her shoulder. As she carefully examined the young woman. It was very similar to the previous victim. Except for one thing. A tiny blemish caught her attention.

‘What is this here, just above the Mons Pubis and below the stomach?’ she asked the doctor.

‘What?’ Dr Ganely appeared beside her and lifted the sheet further up. ‘This here? It’s just a minor bruise. Perhaps something sustained in an attack or from bumping into a corner of furniture? It’s only superficial, but I did note it in the report. None of the other bodies had it.’

‘Can we turn the examination light on?’ Grace asked.

‘Sure.’ Dr Ganley said quietly and flicked the switch. ‘Do you want a hand lens?’ She asked, but Grace detected a sarcastic tone.

She ignored it. ‘Yes please, doctor, that would be helpful.’

A magnifier appeared in front of her and she examined the bruise to see what she expected in the centre of it.

‘This is a needle mark,’ Grace told her.

‘Really?’ Dr Ganley asked, seeming shocked. She snatched the lens from her hand and double checked the bruise. ‘Yeah, um… you’re right, yeah, it is. I’m sorry I can’t believe I missed that.’

‘Needle mark?’ JJ asked and came around the side of the table to look at it too. ‘That’s a weird spot for one. Could they have been drugged? Or would it be from like a local anesthetic?’

Grace fixed her glasses and squinted. ‘No, not likely. It’s an 18 gauge. It’s not usually used for administering drugs. If the average person were to buy a needle, they wouldn’t buy this type.’

‘You can’t tell the gauge just by looking at it-‘ Dr Ganely pulled out measure and peered under the hand lens ‘-Its… Three millimetres, which is… that’s impossible.’ She looked at the measure and double checked it.

Grace didn't do well to hide the satisfied smirk that twitched on her face.

‘Why?’ JJ asked.

‘A diameter of three millimetres is 18 gauge,’ Grace smiled.

‘No, why wouldn't a regular person not buy this needle?' JJ asked.

‘Oh, the smaller the number, the bigger the needle. This is the second biggest needle they make. This is for inter-muscular injection, administering blood, or large amounts of emergency medication quickly, this is like an ICU needle, JJ,’ she explained. And then it occurred to her what the needle would have been used for in that particular spot. She looked up at the doctor. ‘Can I probe this?’

Dr Ganley scoffed, ‘No. You’re not qualified to come in here probing stuff like you own the-‘

‘-Then respectfully, doctor, can you probe it? How deep does it go?’ she tried her best to remain polite.

Dr Ganley sighed and walked over to a tray of instruments, and picked up the thinnest probe available. She inserted it into the puncture. Her brow furrowed in concentration and after a while, the doctor pulled it back out.

‘3 Inches, then it’s through into the bladder,’ the doctor reported.

‘Well, can’t say we’ve dealt with something like this before.’ Grace frowned. ‘JJ, you may want to step out of the room.’

‘Why? What’s that mean?’ JJ looked at the probe and then Grace.

‘Dr Ganley, can you perform a dissection of the bladder right now? We need to check its contents.’ Grace gave JJ an apologetic look, knowing the next words were going to conjure unpleasant images in her mind. ‘I think this unsub externally filled this victim’s bladder with something.’

‘Oh, gross,’ JJ baulked.

‘I’ll stay here till this is done. You could go fill the others in at the station? I’ll see what Dr Ganley can find here and see if I can pull some stings at the lab to get the reports fast tracked, then met you guys tonight for the debrief?’ She suggested.

‘Sounds good,’ JJ nodded and before she left the room, nodded her head in the direction of Dr Ganley and mouthed the words, ‘Be nice.’

‘Me?’ Grace scoffed back at her silently.

‘Yes, you.’ JJ pointed and left.

---------

Next Chapter

Taglist: @bridgeoverstrawberryfields

Spencer will be in the next chapter, I promise this one was just getting to long to not split it I'm sorry. Hopefully you liked it.

If you love this story or even just like it, leave a comment, like, reblog, ask a question with Character Mail, whatever, it is much appreciated and it really motivates me.

if you want to be added to taglist please comment on this post.

TWs:

Sexual assault, Necrophilia : I will try not to be graphic at all in this story, this chapter just has it mentioned as part of what the unsub does, but at the morgue Grace does inspect the bodies, medical examiners office and the unsub is revealed to be a necrophiliac. this scene is not graphically described but if you don't want to read it, stop when you see the -------- and continue after the next set of dotted lines.

Autopsy: the whole section under time stap where is says Harrisberg Morgue... is a post mortem exam.

Slight body horror : I will try not to be graphic here, but in autopsy it is found that unsub fills Bladders externally with a injection. Again not going to describe that more than I have too.

violence, crime scene depiction: cannon typical throughout this story

kidnapping: Unsub is implied to kidnap victims and hold them for a few days.

decapitation: this is part of the unsubs M.O.

[nerdraging4point0]

Power Play // Chapter 1 // Hockeyplayer!Noah AU

Tropes and tags: RPF:AU hockey player romance, angsty romance, hidden relationship, forbidden relationship, smutty, MF, multiple POV. 

Content Warning: angsty romance, hockey player shenanigans, locker room talk, smutty, aggressive hockey players, PinV, MF relationship, possessive male, protective male.

This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.

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I sank into the faded beige couch in our cozy two-bedroom apartment, soaking in the last moments before everything would change. Through the open window, the sweet scent of yesterday’s rain drifted in on a gentle breeze, reminding me of all the lazy spring days spent here with friends. Marissa plopped down beside me, and I felt a pang in my heart realizing how much I would miss this—being with her, my best friend and rock through the chaos of senior year. Now, a few months out after graduation, a bittersweet nostalgia washed over me. I etched each detail into my memory: the worn fabric beneath my fingertips, the birdsongs outside, Marissa's quiet presence. Soon we'd close this chapter, but the memories we made within these walls would blossom in our hearts for years to come.

The last four years of nursing school had flown by in a blur of late nights studying and early mornings in clinicals. Now with our bachelor's degrees finally in hand, my best friend and I found ourselves at a crossroads. Where did we go from here? I was tempted to jump right into a job at the hospital we'd done rotations at, but ultimately decided a few months off would do me good. Time to decompress after the whirlwind of college, and spend some much-needed quality time with my dad before launching into my nursing career. Though the future felt wide open and uncertain, I knew this break would help me recharge and figure out my next steps. 

I gaze at my suitcases lined up by the door, like soldiers ready for battle. The rest of my belongings sit sealed away in cardboard coffins, soon to be shipped off to my father's house. In a few short hours, I'll board the plane home, leaving this chapter of my life behind.

I glance anxiously at my phone. The Uber is ten minutes away, coming to ferry me to the airport and the imminent end of my time here. Ten final minutes before my ship sinks into the sea of memories.

Part of me thrills at the thought of going home. But another part dreads that I won't summon the courage to uproot myself again as I did to come here. I feel caught between the familiar comforts of home and the terrifying freedom of the unknown.

As the minutes tick down, the nerves and sadness swell within me like the tide. I'm unsure if I'm ready to leave, but the choice has been made. My bags are packed. The car is on its way. My ship is sinking, and it's time to go down with it.

Marissa grasps my hand, intertwining our fingers in a familiar, comforting way. "This is just a new chapter for us," she says gently. "You know we'll find our way back to each other soon. Just give me a few months to settle into my new job, and I'll come out to Cali for a long overdue visit." Her words wrap around me like a warm hug, reassuring me that our bond can weather any storm.

As we stand from the couch and fall into a tight embrace, I can't help but feel a pang in my heart. Her messy bun tickles my nose, and the familiar scent of cleaning products and lavender clings to her old sweats and university tee. We had spent all day tidying the apartment, scrubbing away remnants of late nights gossiping over takeout and movie marathons. With each swipe of the washcloth, another memory got wiped away.

My phone pings, the Uber waiting to take me to the airport. I cling to her a little tighter, not yet ready to let go of my best friend. We'd been through so much together in this little apartment - late night study sessions, tears after bad breakups, celebrations after every accomplishment. And now we had to say goodbye.

I feel her tears dampen my shoulder as we sway back and forth, the unspoken "I'll miss you" hanging thick in the air. This isn't the end, I know, but as we finally pull away and I gather my bags, my heart breaks nonetheless. One chapter was closing, but a new adventure awaits for both of us.

She helps carry my bags down to the curb where the driver puts them into the trunk of his SUV. We exchange one more hug and a few tears before I climb in the backseat, waving goodbye out of the tinted window till she is out of sight. I pull out my phone shooting a quick text to my dad that i’m on the way to the airport. He wasn’t so much of a worrier, but he’d be upset if I didn’t at least warn him. 

The afternoon sun peeks through the clouds as I drive down I-5, weaving past exits for Tacoma and Federal Way. The leaves on the tree limbs turning a faded shade already line the highway, a sure sign of Autumn in Seattle. Before I know it, I'm pulling up to Departures at Tacoma International Airport, the scent of coffee and jet fuel mingling in the air. Two overstuffed suitcases roll alongside me while my backpack bounces on my shoulders.

After checking my bags, I meander through the terminal, watching businesspeople rush to their gates while families herd overexcited kids onto flights. My flight isn't for another hour, so I find a seat by the window overlooking the tarmac. Planes taxi and take off as I confirm my hotel reservation. I could've stayed at my dad's place, but I know by now my old bedroom has likely become his at-home office. Anyway, it'll be nice to have some independence on this trip back home.

The call comes over the intercom: "Now boarding Flight 784 to LAX." I grab my carry-on and hustle to the gate, eager to secure my window seat near the front. The line inches forward as passengers jam the jetbridge, jostling for position. I finally reach my row and hoist my bag into the overhead bin. As I plop into my seat, I peek out the oval window at the tarmac below. Ground crew in neon vests scurry around the plane, making final checks. The cabin door slams shut, and we lurch into motion. The engines rumble as we gather speed, pressing me back into the headrest. My pulse quickens in that familiar pre-flight rush. The nose tilts up, and we're airborne! Home, here I come!

The LA sun hangs low in a hazy orange sky as I collapse into the hotel room's plush queen bed, weary from a day of travel. Cleaning and packing left me exhausted, so I had to cancel dinner plans with Dad despite his obvious excitement on the phone. He mentioned some "proposal" he has for me - likely another attempt to get me to ditch the hotel and stay at his place instead. But this modest room has everything I need - soft carpets, textured walls, and pillows galore.

After a long day, the thought of going back out into the bustling city streets makes me weary. I decide to unwind in the cozy confines of my hotel room instead. Stepping into the shower, I turn the heat up high, letting the warm water envelope my tired muscles. As steam fills the air, I feel the stress of the day wash away. Wrapped in a plush robe, I settle into the comfy armchair and flip on the TV. The sports channel is covering the latest NFL news - the FortyNiners are gearing up for a big pre season. But soon they switch over to hockey, and my ears perk up. It's an update on my dad's team! I lean in, eager to catch every detail and stat. The lively commentary of the sportscasters fills the room as I relax into the overstuffed cushions. 

"Folks, the Rooks are looking like a force to be reckoned with this season," the announcer says with enthusiasm. She’s blonde, wearing a gray suit and enough makeup to cover her crows feet and forehead wrinkles,  "Coach Brody has lit a fire under this team during preseason and you can see it in the intensity of their practices and scrimmages. The offense is clicking and putting up big numbers, but don't overlook the tenacious defense - whether it's the starting unit or the backups on the ice, these guys are shutting down opponents left and right. The Rooks are hungry for a championship and have all the pieces to make a deep playoff run. If they keep up this level of play, we could be in for an electric season with the Rooks!"

The Rooks take to the ice, a blur of black jerseys with fiery red numbers, names shining under the arena lights. Skates slice and sticks flash as they circle the rink, putting on a show for the cameras. 

“Goalie McClain is a steel wall with his saves.” the announcer gushes as the footage switches to practice - the puck rockets toward McClain's net but the goalie drops, gloves flung wide to make the save. You can almost hear the ice spray and skate blades carve as the team flies around the rink, hockey poetry in motion. The Rooks glide and dash in a choreographed dance, aggressive and graceful all at once, as their dark uniforms and gear mesh into a cohesive force.

The defense barrels towards their opponents with unrelenting intensity, their eyes locked in a fierce glare. "Sanchez is proving himself as the team's starting center this season," the announcer declares, her voice rising with excitement. "Sebastian and Karlsson - the league's top defense duo - are an unstoppable force!"

A tender smile spreads across my face as I gaze at my father's team, my heart swelling with pride. My phone chimes softly, lighting up with a new message from the coach. 

Dad (04:45PM): Visitor pass will be at the front desk of your hotel in the morning. Should get you into the rink for the game on Saturday and tomorrow. Come down to the rink after four, we will grab some dinner once I'm done with practice. 

Curled up under my warm blankets, I open my phone to a new Snap from Marissa. Her selfie pops up on my screen, a pouty expression across her face with the words "miss you" scribbled in playful handwriting. I can't help but smile, picturing her exaggerated faux sadness at our time apart.

The sun melts into the horizon, casting an amber glow over the Los Angeles skyline. Palm trees dance in the gentle evening breeze as the city begins to wind down for the night. The view from my hotel is stunning, with the skyscrapers silhouetted against the vibrant sunset. I open the blinds to take it all in, the concrete jungle transformed into a sea of gilded light. There's a magic in the air at this time of day, a tranquil beauty that washes over the urban landscape. For a moment, the hectic pace of LA seems to fade away. I breathe deeply and let the fading light soothe my soul, appreciating the simple joy of a perfect sunset over the city of angels.