201 east 104th street

Popular wedding venues in the western and central states were featured in Part 1 of US wedding venues. So in part two, we'll focus on wedding venues in the eastern states. Whether it's a luxurious hotel, a rustic barn, or a spacious meadow, all are included. Again, the features of these venues and the approximate prices will be written. Let's explore these beautiful wedding venues!

Wisconsin Wedding Venues

The Paine Art Center and Gardens

This is an art museum located at 1410 Algoma Blvd, Oshkosh. It is an English-style country estate and has nearly four acres of gardens. It has perennial plants and is a great outdoor ceremony venue. Also, there is a historic mansion, charming carriage house, and greenhouse. The venue can accommodate up to 200 people and costs approximately $3000 to $4000 For 100 Guests.

The Lageret

This is a professional event venue located at 515 E Main St, Stoughton. This historic venue offers industrial and rustic charm with exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and wood beams. It has ample space for ceremonies and receptions. The venue offers event coordination, customizable lighting options, a bridal suite, and access to preferred vendors. Accommodations for up to 250 people start at $3,500 for a 12-hour rental.

The Enchanted Barn

Located at 1543 6 1/2 Ave, Hillsdale, this barn has an old-world rustic atmosphere around every corner. Featuring several indoor and outdoor venues, one of the most popular ceremony locations is located in Barn's upper-level Hayloft, featuring old wood timbers. Several wedding package options are available here and can accommodate up to 220 people. Off-season all-inclusive wedding packages are $5,000 plus $21 per person.

Illinois Wedding Venues

Danada House

This is a historic mansion located at 3S501 Naperville Rd, Wheaton. a short drive from Chicago. The mansion is also surrounded by a forest preserve that allows for nature-filled photos. There are seven ceremony locations in total, and the largest Magnolia Garden can accommodate up to 300 guests. Venue rentals start at $3,500.

The Morton Arboretum

This is a public nature garden and outdoor museum located at 4100 IL-53, Lisle. Inside there are not only mature trees and flowers but also a playground for children. Offering beautiful woodland and lakeside views. The large garden has a total of 12 venues to choose from and the largest room can accommodate up to 300 guests. Prices range from $600 to $9,000 depending on the size of the room and the time of year it is held.

Salvage One

Located at 1840 W Hubbard St, Chicago, this is a very unique location that serves as a store besides being a wedding venue. It preserves treasured furniture from the past. This old Chicago warehouse offers an enchanting vintage atmosphere. The ceremony and banquet space can accommodate about 200 people and space rentals start at $4,000.

Kentucky Wedding Venues

The Barn at Cedar Grove

The address is 1000 Brockman Keltner Rd, Greensburg, which has a rustic barn setting with picturesque scenery. Offering outdoor ceremony space, climate-controlled reception space, bridal suite, groom's quarters, and fire pit. The venue in the barn can accommodate up to 230 people. For fewer guests, the average budget for a wedding here is between $6,000 and $9,000.

The Brown Hotel

This 100-year-old hotel is located at 335 W Broadway, Louisville. The hotel has a striking Georgian Revival look and offers elegant ballrooms, luxurious accommodations, and a gorgeous rooftop garden. The hotel also has extensive experience in hosting weddings of different cultures, such as Jewish and Indian weddings. Prices are $18,000 in the off-season and can accommodate up to 300 guests.

Talon Winery & Vineyards

This winery has a large outdoor space at 7086 Tates Creek Rd, Lexington. Offers vineyard and winery backdrop, outdoor ceremony space, and rustic barn. The best part is the wine-tasting and vineyard tours. The venue can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices for ceremonies start at $1500.

Tennessee Wedding Venues

Butterfly Hollow

Located at 28 Bussell Rd, Gordonsville, our vacation accommodations are perfect for small weddings. Surrounded by scenic walking trails, mountains, and woods. This venue specializes in small weddings of 30 people or less, with a focus on an intimate and cozy experience. Wedding packages range from $1795 to $5000.

Dixon Gallery and Gardens

An art gallery on 17 acres of gardens located at 4339 Park Ave, Memphis, offers a romantic and artistic setting for weddings. The gallery offers two indoor reception venues as well as woodlands and gardens, both of which can accommodate up to 200 guests. Prices are approximately $4000 to $5000 For 100 guests.

The Bell Tower

The Bell Tower, located at 400 4th Ave S, Nashville, is almost 140 years old. The ballroom features large windows that provide plenty of natural light, creating a charming and historic setting for weddings. There are two floors beside the lobby. Seated dinners for up to 400 people range from $3,500 to $16,000 depending on time and venue.

Mississippi Wedding Venues

The Cedars

The site at 4145 Old Canton Rd, Jackson is the oldest residential building in Jackson, with a history of 175 years. The courtyard in front of the house with trees such as cedar, oak, and magnolia provides a natural backdrop for weddings. The venue can accommodate up to 300 people and costs $3,500 for a two-day weekend rental.

Dunleith Historic Inn

A National Historic Landmark located at 84 Homochitto St, Natchez, the mansion features Greek Revival columns and original pine floors. The event space has a main floor, courtyard, and South Lawn, which can accommodate up to 700 people. Wedding packages start at $6,500, not including catering.

The Gin at Flora Station

The address is 4819 MS-22, Flora. The refurbished cotton gin blends rustic charm with modern amenities. It offers indoor and outdoor spaces, including a covered gazebo and a patio with an old-fashioned truck bar. Rentals for ceremonies and receptions start at $3,500.

Alabama Wedding Venues

B&A Warehouse

This building, located at 1531 1st Ave S, Birmingham, is historic from the outside. With its industrial-inspired design and high ceilings along with red brick walls. Three indoor venues can accommodate up to 300 guests, and the cost of a ceremony starts at $4,000.

The Sterling Castle

This castle is located at 389 Deseret Dr, Shelby, and has been voted the best wedding venue in Alabama. The fairytale-style castle, elegant ballroom, charming courtyard, and lakeside and drawbridge venues. This beautiful venue can accommodate up to 300 guests and all-inclusive weddings are priced at $10,000+.

Huntsville Museum of Art

This is an art museum located at 300 Church St SW, Huntsville. With unique indoor and outdoor spaces, the museum is a contemporary art gallery. Offering outdoor spaces with a rooftop terrace, and five indoor hospitality venues. The starting venue fee for a wedding reception in high season is $1,500.

Michigan Wedding Venues

Colony Club Detroit

Located at 2310 Park Ave, Detroit, this Georgian-style, historic venue features stunning architecture and gorgeous interiors. The hotel features a grand ballroom decorated with crystal chandeliers and intricate details. The ballroom can accommodate up to 350 guests and is priced between $12,000 and $15,000.

Castle Farms

This historic building, built in 1918, is located at 5052 M-66, Charlevoix. With a total of four site combinations in the summer. It offers several ceremony and reception spaces, including a charming outdoor garden and a majestic stone courtyard. The largest of these, the East Garden and Queen's Courtyard can host up to 300 guests. And the price range is between $6,750 and $9,250.

The Inn at Stonecliffe

This is a Victorian village located at 8593 Cudahy Cir, Mackinac Island. away from the hustle and bustle of the area. With beautiful gardens and breathtaking views of Lake Huron and the Mackinaw Bridge. Accommodates up to 300 people and prices range from $4000 to $10,000.

Ohio Wedding Venues

Franklin Park Conservatory

This is a horticultural and educational institution located at 1777 E Broad St, Columbus. The most popular venue is the indoor garden with an all-glass ceiling. Besides, there is an industrial-style venue and a 200-year-old barn. The venue has plenty of space and can accommodate up to 500 people, with prices ranging from $7,000 to $11,000 for a wedding of 100 guests.

The Columbus Athenaeum

The historic building at 32 N 4th St, Columbus, was built in 1899. With a total of ten venues to choose from, the Grand Ballroom boasts gorgeous details and a stunning atrium. It is decorated with classical Greek art as well as soaring ornate ceilings. It can accommodate up to 230 guests. Prices for receptions start at $3,000.

Gervasi Vineyard

An oversized wine estate located at 1700 55th St NE, Canton. Picturesque vineyard setting and sparkling lake views. The open-air venue can accommodate up to 300 people, while the indoor venue can accommodate up to 120 guests. Full-service event planning, vineyard tours, and wine tastings are available. Prices for receptions will start at $1,450.

Georgia Wedding Venues

Barnsley Resort

This resort is located at 597 Barnsley Gardens Rd NW, Adairsville. With over 3,000 acres of land, it is a historic southern estate. With lush gardens, luxurious cabins, and grounds that can accommodate up to 250 people. Three wedding packages are available: $275 per person, $320 per person, and $350 per person. And a least of 150 people is required.

Summerour Studio

This is a renovated warehouse located at 409 Bishop St NW, Atlanta. The roof is supported by massive bow trusses, which allow for a spacious, open floor plan without columns or supports. Through a wall of windows running the length of the space, there are breathtaking views of Atlantic Station and the downtown skyline. Accommodating up to 425 people, prices start at $4,000.

The Biltmore Ballrooms

The ballroom is located at 817 W Peachtree St NW 208, Atlanta, and was established in 1924. The ballroom features a handcrafted plaster relief ceiling, ornate crystal lighting, and a marble floor. Capacity ranges from 50 to 1,500 people and offers eleven caterers. Rental rates range from $3,500 to $5,000, depending on the day of the week.

Florida Wedding Venues

The Ancient Spanish Monastery

Located at 16711 W Dixie Hwy, North Miami Beach. This monastery was dismantled piece by piece from northern Spain and shipped to the United States, then rebuilt over 19 months. It offers a chapel and gardens for ceremonies. The garden can accommodate up to 300 guests for $6,500 and includes only the cost of the reception.

The Breakers Palm Beach

This is a luxury resort located at 1 S County Rd, Palm Beach. This luxury resort is located in Palm Beach and enjoys magnificent beachfront views, lush gardens, and an exquisite ballroom. It boasts a timeless and elegant ambiance. It can host weddings for a maximum of less than 500 people, and detailed prices need to be communicated with the hotel.

The Ringling Museum

The museum is located at 5401 Bay Shore Rd, Sarasota, with a breathtaking view of Sarasota Bay. This venue offers unique views of art, culture, and the stunning waterfront. It includes many event spaces, including a large courtyard and an elegant ballroom. The largest art gallery courtyard can accommodate up to 125 guests and prices start at $20,000.

New York Wedding Venues

Mohonk Mountain House

Located at 1000 Mountain Rest Rd, New Paltz, this historic resort is surrounded by 40,000 acres of pristine forest. Featuring a majestic Victorian castle with panoramic mountain views. Choose from lakeside, garden, and mountain views for your ceremony. Wedding packages range from $275 to $375 per person.

The Foundry

The address is 42-38 9th Street, Long Island City, with a history dating back to the 19th century. Offering an industrial chic atmosphere, a garden courtyard and conservatory, a stunning main space, plus rustic interiors. Accommodates up to 180 guests, with receptions starting at $14,000.

The Garrison

Estate at 2015 US-9, Garrison, with superb Hudson River views and Catskill Mountain views. The venue offers a modern ballroom, outdoor ceremony space, and golf course. The venue can accommodate up to 200 guests for $12,000.

Pennsylvania Wedding Venues

The Curtis Atrium

The historic building at 699 Walnut St, Philadelphia used to be the Curtis Publishing Company. It is now a building with a mix of residential, office, and retail space. It features a stunning atrium, marble columns, and a stunning rotunda. Space rentals start at $8,000.

The Cork Factory Hotel

This boutique hotel is located at 480 New Holland Ave 3000, Lancaster, a converted historic cork mill with exposed brick walls. Offering industrial charm and modern amenities. The venue has a ballroom, a terrace, and a 2,300-square-foot warehouse. Space is available for up to 200 guests, and wedding packages start at $7,000.

Terrain Gardens at Devon Yard

A stunning garden is located at 138 W Lancaster Ave Suite 130, Devon. The venue is decorated with elements such as reclaimed barn wood floors, raised holiday lights, and skylights to create a unique aesthetic. Of course, there is an essential gardening setting and open-air venue that can accommodate up to 140 guests. Prices for receptions start at $4,525.

West Virginia Wedding Venues

Stonewall Resort

The entire resort is nestled beside a tranquil lake at 940 Resort Drive Roanoke, a place of scenic beauty and rustic charm. Wedding venues are available on the lakeside lawn or in the courtyard, with an indoor grand hall and stone-walled ballroom. Spa services, golf courses, and entertainment can also be experienced with wedding packages ranging from $3,500 to $12,000.

The Greenbrier

A luxury resort located at 101 W Main St, White Sulphur Springs. With stunning architecture, beautiful gardens, and breathtaking mountain views. The indoor venue has a dramatic chandelier and stage. The outdoor grounds feature expansive lawns and rustic cabins. Packages start at $10,000 and vary depending on the number of guests, season, and customization.

Sleepy Hollow Golf Club

The Club at 3780 Sleepy Hollow Dr, Hurricane. It is a private golf club for families. Featuring a scenic golf course, elegant ballroom, outdoor lawn ceremony venue, and picturesque countryside views. Wedding packages start at $3,500.

Virginia Wedding Venues

Maymont

Historic Manor River Park at 1700 Hampton St, Richmond. Inside are gardens, botanical gardens, and native wildlife habitats. The scenic setting includes 100-year-old Italian gardens, European-style manor houses, pavilions, expansive lawns, and the Robbins Nature Center. Prices range from $3,500 to $6,100.

Inn At Willow Grove

This is a rustic accommodation located at 14079 Plantation Way, Orange. It is unusually peaceful and romantic, surrounded by ancient trees and beautiful gardens. One of the gardens, Boxwood, can accommodate up to 175 guests and offers idyllic views. A versatile barn is also available as a hospitality venue, with rates starting at $7,500.

The Tides Inn

Located at 480 King Carter Dr, Irvington, the entire hotel is situated on a beautiful body of water with views of the Chesapeake Bay. It is a waterfront resort. You can also come here to take part in fun activities such as tennis, golf, paddle boarding, biking, and kayaking. Weddings start at $3,100.

North Carolina Wedding Venues

The Bradford

Professional wedding venue located at 523 Pea Ridge Rd, New Hill. It resembles a European town building with charming gardens and rustic barns. It can accommodate up to 250 guests for a ceremony in the gardens. Wedding packages will vary depending on the time of year and are priced at $8,000 on Fridays and $9,800 on Saturdays.

The Merrimon-Wynne House

The mansion located at 500 N Blount St, Raleigh was built in 1876 and has been well maintained and is now a venue for various events. The building has a main floor full of Southern charm. Inside are original floors and mantelshelves, ornate chandeliers, and a wide porch. The outdoor area is also large enough to host ceremonies in the garden and can accommodate up to 250 guests. Prices for receptions start at $5,000.

Fearrington Village

It's an English-style country hotel located at 2000 Fearrington Village Center. Besides the quaint country setting there are dense gardens with water features. The largest venue is the barn, which offers spacious dining and dancing space and can accommodate up to 250 people guests. Prices for ceremonies start at $2500.

South Carolina Wedding Venues

Middleton Place

This National Historic Landmark is located at 4300 Ashley River Rd, Charleston. You can experience daily life on an 18th-century plantation and enjoy 65 acres of unobstructed views and private garden rooms. Also, enjoy the oldest landscaped gardens on the property. There are 7 ceremony venues, ranging from small weddings of 50 to 400 guests. Prices start at $5,000.

William Aiken House

The 1807 mansion is located at 456 King St, Charleston, a restored mansion that showcases Southern charm and architectural elegance. The yard features a magnolia tree that is over two hundred years old and an elegant terrace. It is also rated as one of South Carolina's premier wedding venues. The cost of a ceremony starts at $3,000.

The Cedar Room

Modern industrial event space at 701 E Bay St, Charleston. Featuring exposed brick walls, high ceilings, and large windows overlooking the cityscape. The indoor Cedar Room venue can accommodate up to 500 people for events, and the outdoor yard can seat up to 200. Events on Fridays or Sundays start at $3,500.

Vermont Wedding Venues

Inn at Mountain View Farm

The Inn at 3383 Darling Hill Rd, East Burke, has breathtaking mountaintop views. Enjoy mountain biking, cross-country skiing, and visits to animal farms, among many other activities. Venues can range from beautiful fields to cozy campfires. Weekend wedding packages start at $3,500.

Hildene - The Lincoln Family Home

The building at 1005 Hildene Rd, Manchester is full of meaning. The Lincolns built Hildene as a summer home at the turn of the 20th century. Here you can look out over the Taconic Mountains to the west and the Green Mountains to the east. The outdoor venue can accommodate up to 200 people and wedding reception prices start at $8,000.
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(Hildene - The Lincoln Family Home)

The Henry House

The historic house at 1338 Murphy Rd, North Bennington, built in 1769, is one of the oldest surviving houses in Vermont. Overlooks the authentic red-covered Henry Bridge. The site offers several vendors for you to consider. The large trees outside the house make for the best wedding photos. The venue needs to be contacted for a specific quote.

Massachusetts Wedding Venues

The Crane Estate

This is a Tudor Revival mansion located at 290 Argilla Rd, Ipswich. It was the summer home of Mr. and Mrs. Richard Taylor Crane, Jr. with winding salt marshes, miles of barrier beaches, and a beautiful hilltop mansion. And of course the rolling lawns and gardens. There are three sites to choose from in all, with the beachfront site accommodating 200 to 500 people. Weekend weddings are priced at $6500.

Red Lion Inn

The Inn at 30 Main St, Stockbridge has a 250-year history. The entire Inn combines traditional New England hospitality with the amenities of a modern hotel. The largest Hitchcock room capacity is capacity 30-175 people. Venue rentals start at $4,000.

Liberty Hotel

A sophisticated hotel located at 215 Charles St, Boston. Located in the heart of downtown, just steps from shopping, dining, Boston Parks, and more. The hotel offers a private secret garden that can accommodate up to 200 people outdoors and an indoor 3000-square-foot ballroom. Wedding venue rates start at $26,000 for up to 100 guests.

Connecticut Wedding Venues

The Lace Factory

This historic factory is located at 161 River St, Deep River, and offers a charming and rustic atmosphere for a wedding venue. It has wood floors, high ceilings, and large windows overlooking the river. The Lace Factory offers event planning services, on-site catering, and a variety of rental options for weddings of all sizes. The Factory can accommodate up to 225 people and prices start at $5,000.

Eolia Mansion at Harkness State

The address is 275 Great Neck Rd, Waterford. Nestled on the shoreline of Waterford, Connecticut, this elegant mansion offers breathtaking views of Long Island Sound. It has manicured gardens, a stone terrace, and a beautiful ballroom. The price of $5,100 includes exclusive use of the mansion's first floor and south courtyard tent for 5 hours.

The Society Room of Hartford

This event venue is located at 31 Pratt St, Hartford, and the historic venue boasts magnificent architecture. It includes a marble staircase, beautifully frescoed ceilings, and crystal chandeliers. It provides a luxurious and timeless setting for weddings. The venue can accommodate up to 300 guests and prices start at 15,000.

New Hampshire Wedding Venues

Wentworth By The Sea Country Club

Country Club at 60 Wentworth Rd, Rye. This private club is near the shore and enjoys magnificent waterfront views and a romantic atmosphere. The hotel has manicured grounds and a historic clubhouse. It can accommodate up to 250 guests in this setting. Three options are available: lawn, clubhouse, and tent weddings. Reception prices start at $30,000.

The Preserve at Chocorua

This venue, located at 88 Philbrick Neighborhood Rd, Tamworth, is a rustic and secluded wedding venue nestled in the White Mountains. It offers scenic views, a charming barn, and plenty of outdoor space for the ceremony. Outdoor activities such as sleigh rides and hiking are also available. Approximate prices will start at $1000.

Bishop Farm

The Farmhouse, located at 33 Bishop Cutoff, Lisbon, is a historic and beautifully landscaped site in the White Mountains. It offers a restored 1876 farmhouse, a barn, and lush greenery. There is also a romantic bistro with a terrace to relax in. Accommodating up to 200 guests, prices start at $15,000.

Rhode Island Wedding Venues

The Chanler at Cliff Walk

A luxury hotel located at 117 Memorial Blvd, Newport. The Chanler offers luxurious accommodations and a grand mansion setting with stunning views of the Atlantic Ocean and access to their world-class restaurant. Specializing in weddings for up to 120 guests with access to their world-class restaurant. Site rentals start at $10,000.

Blithewold Mansion, Gardens & Arboretum

Historic mansion on 33 acres located at 101 Ferry Rd, Bristol with breathtaking views of Narragansett Bay. Large tents are available in the outdoor area, followed by sunset views. Accommodating up to 225 guests, weekend wedding rates start at $12,995.

The Dorrance

Situated in the heart of Providence, The Dorrance is a restored bank building with a sophisticated atmosphere and elegant decor. The most special feature is the long, luxurious bar, which can accommodate up to 200 guests throughout the venue. Venue rentals start at $7,500.

New Jersey Wedding Venues

The Ashford Estate

Located at 637 Province Line Rd, Allentown, this elegant property is nestled in a picturesque setting. Surrounded by hundreds of acres of beautifully preserved farmland, it features sparkling fountains, waterfalls, garden pavilions, expansive views, and of course, luxurious private suites. The wedding venue can accommodate up to 300 guests. Starting at $10,000.

Mallard Island Yacht Club

A club surrounded by water at 1450 NJ-72, Manahawkin. six more venues to choose from in the luxurious private island mansion. The center plaza boasts grand arches and ornate ceilings reminiscent of old-world glamour. The ballroom can accommodate up to 250 people, and prices for receptions start at $20,000.

Liberty House Restaurant & Events

This waterfront event venue is located at 76 Audrey Zapp Dr, Jersey City. It features unparalleled views of the New York City skyline, Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and the Liberty Landing Pier. The Grand Ballroom features a marble floor and floor-to-ceiling windows. The venue can accommodate up to 300 people and venue rental fees start at $8,000.

Delaware Wedding Venues

The Queen Wilmington

This dazzling venue is located at 500 N Market St, Wilmington is downtown. It is a historic music venue that offers a unique and eclectic atmosphere. The venue features a grand ballroom with a stage, state-of-the-art sound system, and elegant décor. The venue can accommodate up to 200 guests and wedding reception prices start from $3,000.

The Cordrey Center

The address is 30366 Cordrey Rd, Millsboro, and its restored barn and surrounding gardens provide a rustic and charming setting. The venue offers a range of services, including in-house catering, bar service, and event coordination. It has indoor and outdoor options and can accommodate up to 200 guests. Venue rental rates start at $3,500.

The Waterfall Catering and Special Events

With an address at 3416 Philadelphia Pike, Claymont, The Waterfall has a modern venue. Centered around a stunning indoor waterfall. The spacious ballroom features contemporary décor and customizable LED lighting systems. The venue can accommodate up to 500 guests. Prices for venue rentals start at $6,000.

Maryland Wedding Venues

Belvedere Hotel

Located at 1 East Chase Street and built-in 1902 as a historic landmark in Baltimore, The Belvedere showcases stunning architecture and classic charm. It offers a variety of event spaces, including a rooftop ballroom with panoramic views of the city. Inside, the décor is more vintage and ornate. Accommodating up to 500 guests, venue rentals start at $8,000.

Evergreen Museum & Library

This grand Gilded Age mansion is located at 4545 N Charles St, Baltimore. It is full of history with a house museum and research library. With beautiful gardens, this venue offers a mix of elegance and history. It's architectural details and scenic surroundings provide a unique backdrop. As well as a tour of the museum's collection. Accommodates up to 200 guests and starts at $6,000.

Chesapeake Bay Beach Club

Located at 500 Marina Club Rd, Stevensville, this venue offers stunning waterfront views and an elegant ballroom. It also has an oceanfront ceremony venue and luxurious accommodations. There are four ballrooms in total, three indoor and one outdoor. Accommodations for up to 300 guests start at $10,000.

District of Columbia Wedding Venues

Larz Anderson House

Located at 2118 Massachusetts Ave NW, Washington, the Anderson House, established in 1905, is a stunning Beaux-Arts mansion that offers a romantic and intimate setting for weddings. The venue features beautiful gardens, a grand staircase, and gorgeous rooms decorated with historic artwork. It can accommodate up to 200 guests and has access to the house's magnificent library. Prices start from $8,000.

The Hay-Adams

Located at 800 16th St NW, Washington, across from the White House, the hotel offers magnificent views of the iconic landmark. This venue has many event spaces, including a rooftop terrace from which the White House can be used as a photo backdrop. Wedding venues can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices start at $15,000.

National Museum of Women in the Arts

Located at 1250 New York Ave NW, Washington, this unique venue celebrates women artists and offers a distinctive setting for weddings. With its stunning architecture and world-class art collection, it provides an exquisite atmosphere for your special day. The venue offers a variety of event spaces, including an assembly hall and mezzanine level, and can accommodate up to 400 guests. However, the museum is temporarily closed for renovations.

Maine Wedding Venues

Hidden Pond

The resort's address is 354 Goose Rocks Rd, Kennebunkport, and is nestled in a secluded wooded area. Featuring elegant indoor and outdoor spaces. Surrounded by 60 acres of birch and balsam fir, it features two outdoor pools and a three-room treetop spa. It ensures an unforgettable wedding experience. Prices start from US$10,000.

Hardy Farm

The farm is located at 254 W Fryeburg Rd, Fryeburg. This rustic and chic site features a restored 18th-century farmhouse and a spacious barn with panoramic mountain views. Of course, there are also seasonal gardens and a woodland church. The most special feature is the provision of a cable car to reach the top of the mountain, which is also a popular backdrop for photos. It can accommodate up to 250 guests and prices start from $6,500.

Portland Regency Hotel & Spa

The address is 20 Milk St, Portland, and is centrally located, offering a blend of classic elegance and modern amenities. With many event spaces, on-site catering, and a spa, it can accommodate intimate and large weddings. Accommodations range from 10 to 220 guests, with rates starting at $3,500.

Conclusion

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." When Harry Met Sally
Finally, we've rounded up our recommendations for wedding venues in each of the remaining states. Choosing the perfect wedding venue is an important step in creating your dream wedding. It sets the tone for the entire celebration and provides the backdrop for your special day. No matter what style of wedding venue you prefer, there is a venue above that perfectly suits your style and preferences.
Last but not least, don't forget to check out Quictent's wedding tent. we offer quality wedding tents for your outdoor wedding, containing various types and sizes.

I was walking through east greenwich (Main Street) when about 10 different cars came speeding by with trump flags and right wing messages all over their car, also yelling too. It’s really annoying when you are just trying to get some coffee and people are screaming at you from their cars.

I park my car in the incredibly nice upper-middle class Huntington Beach neighborhood, just down the street from the ‘New Reality’ (editor's note: fake name) sober living I got kicked out of. I take a second to pull myself together while in the darkness. I’m starting to feel very weak, very frazzled. I’ve been awake for at least 60 hours straight now, and I’m well aware of that. It is 1AM. I can’t decide if I should get a hotel or not.
I am so weak. I need to eat. I need water. I need to sleep. My mouth tastes TERRIBLE – like I am decaying from the inside out. I need to shower. I am aware that I have many physical needs that go beyond my need for more drugs.
See how you feel after the next shot, Lonnie.
I text Kace:
Here
I pat my pockets, making sure I have two separate bags: a bag in my left pocket, which has my furanylfentanyl and clean syringes in it, and a bag in my right pocket, which has both their meth and their dilaudid pills in it. I do not want to sell them furanylfentanyl because I don’t want them to die in the sober living house that has already seen 2 overdoses because of it.
I get out of my car and lock it. I walk through the sprawling, meticulous Huntington Beach neighborhood full of spacious and decorous houses, heading towards the sober living, though I stay on the other side of the street. I walk past several houses, with perfect green lawns and perfect landscapes, walking past the sober living. I walk a few houses past it, and then cross the street. When I arrive on the other side of the street, I glance all around me, checking for surveillance.
I double back, heading towards the sober living. I cut into the side yard, heading for the side door that leads into the garage. It is already cracked open, just as we planned. I open the door just enough so that I am able to slide through. I see two phone lights on in the far corner of the big 3-car garage.
“Yo,” I whisper-yell in the direction of the phone lights. One of the lights starts moving in a circular motion, beckoning me closer. I walk up, moving as quietly as I can. It would be terrible if the house manager, Jack, came in here right now.
I pull out their bag of dilaudid and meth. I see a hand with money in it being held out in my direction. I take the money and replace it with their bag of drugs.
“Nice, thanks,” Kace whispers, as I count the money. It's right on. The phone lights move closer to the ground, so I move with them. I see 3 fresh bottles of water on the ground, just like I asked for. I pull out the bag of needles and hand each of them 2 clean needles, putting one on the ground for myself.
“You got the Q-tips,” I whisper, looking towards Kace. His hand is already outstretched, a Q tip in it. I open the water bottle and put the bottle cap on the floor, beginning to prepare my shot of furanylfentanyl as quietly as I can, while they break up their dilaudids. The phones are propped up on the floor, giving me an eerie feeling. I have seen this before.
Déjà vu hits, and something inside me works to flash me back to my horrible half-ounce psilocybin trip. I suppress the embodied, hellish memories and the feelings of absolute terror, doom, and panic by preparing the shot as fast as I can.
“Where are you going after this?” Kace whispers to me, while we all work. I don’t even know the third boy, I only know that his name is Shane, he is white, he came here from the east coast, he’s in his 20s, and that he came to the wrong place if he wants to survive and recover from his addiction.
“I might go get a hotel, depends on how I feel,” I whisper back.
“Well, take a piece of this, mix it in there, that’ll help,” Kace whispers, his hand outstretched with a shard of meth in it. Meth is Kace’s panacea. I hesitate for a second, only because I know that this meth came from Sloan, which means it came from Lucky, which means it is very clean and very, very strong.
A small amount added to my shot of furry would ensure that I could stay awake for a little while longer. Now that I am coming down from the 2-day cocaine binge and haven’t yet slept, I run the risk of passing out at any moment.
“Maybe I should, just to be on the safe side,” I whisper, before involuntarily watching my hand take the small shard of meth and add it to the bottle cap. I take pleasure in the fact that this is fresh water from a clean water bottle, a fresh cotton, a clean bottle cap, and drugs that I sourced myself and am familiar with.
Listen to you, Lonnie. This is your third day in a row, and now that you don’t have cocaine, you’re doing meth? You were chugging cough syrup, you went on a cocaine binge, now you’re doing some goddamn meth? The dirtiest, most disgusting drug on the planet? And you’re selling it to these poor kids, at their sober living? Shame on you.
I shake my head slightly, hoping to shut it up.
I push the limits in my preparation of the dose: adding meth to this shot enables me to add more furanylfentanyl than I normally would, since the meth will keep me awake and therefore alive. I look up from the phone light when I am done, and I am surprised to see somebody else is done prepping and has completed their injection before me.
“Whoa, god damn,” Shane whispers. I chuckle.
“He’s never done a dilaudid before,” Kace whispers. I can hear the smile on Kace’s face, even in the darkness. I don’t smile, for something terrible has happened on this night. Shane’s soul has been infected by another parasite, and I will burn in the deepest level of Hell for being the one that brought it to him.
“Can you light me up?” I ask. One of the phone lights turns towards me. I find a vein quickly and easily, though I am having to rotate injection sites constantly. I cap the needle when it’s done and lean back, putting my hands on the concrete floor of the garage behind me. I count mentally, and barely make it past 3.
Every cell that I consist of alights with the jolting electric euphoria of meth. My chest tightens with power and ecstasy. I feel electric light waves of raw energy emanating from my heart as my heart rate dramatically increases with feelings of excited arousal.
All weakness and negativity have disappeared from my body. I could fight a tiger right now. I should go play basketball right now. I’d be unstoppable. I’d win every game. Nobody else would even have a chance.
“Fuck, I hate meth,” I whisper, overly alert, my heart racing in my ears. Now it feels like the house manager will open the door any second. Police are certainly watching us. My heart races in nonstop anticipation; I can feel my heartbeat in my trembling hands. Only the massive shot of furry I did can prevent the paranoia from causing me to panic. I take solace in the sensations of peace and relaxation that underlie the meth high. My lady, the Opioid - even though She is the cold, robotic Miss Furryfent, She is with me. I have nothing to fear.
“Nobody hates meth,” Kace whispers.
“It’s too good. It makes me feel too powerful. It makes me feel crazy,” I say.
“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Shane whispers, as we watch Kace inject himself. There are a few seconds of silence, all of us waiting for Kace to get his rush.
“Shit, that dilaudid gives you a good rush. I forgot how good it is,” Kace whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back, before standing up. I walk to the exit, loath to be physically alone again, even though I feel lonely all the time. I wish I didn’t have to leave, but I know that this is another place that I am not welcome. The world is shrinking around me by the day. I am wearing out my welcome at the few places I am still allowed to go.
I need to go back to another treatment center, but life feels hopeless. More talk therapy, more 12-step meetings, more jail-rehabs, more vacation-rehabs – none of it has worked for me, and more of the same thing won’t help me. I am so hooked on these drugs; the drugs are a torrent, and every method of treatment is like a two-by-four piece of wood laying in the way. These drugs have my soul. Death is closing in on me.
“Thanks for coming out here. Be safe, brother,” Kace whispers, before closing the door behind me. I hear it lock, which hurts my feelings, even though I don’t blame him for locking me out. I’d lock me out, too.
I step out into a warm summer California night – back into a world that I don’t belong in; back into a world that doesn't want me.
Where are you going to go, Lonnie?
Not here. Anywhere but here. I start walking, and then start jogging across the street. Surprisingly, I feel no pain in my ankles at all. Jogging feels good. I make it across the street, and then keep jogging.
I jog up to my car. I open the door and get in it. I sit for a second. I check in on my body.
I feel amazing. I could run 3 miles right now. I feel great. I should keep moving.
I check in with my stomach. Although I couldn’t be less hungry, I know I need to consume some nutrients, even if they’re just liquid. I've been injecting cocaine continuously; I haven’t eaten a solid meal or slept in days.
I know what to do. I put my drugs and paraphernalia in the center console of my car. I get out of the car with only my phone, wallet, and keys in my pockets. I lock the car, checking it twice so it registers in my meth-addled brain, which is often riddled with unreasonable paranoia, that it is locked, and nobody can steal my drugs.
I start to walk away from my car, then stop mid-step. What if Kace or one of those guys comes looking for my car, knowing that it is full of drugs?
I am frozen with indecision. I notice I am licking my lips with overstimulation and force myself to stop my tongue. My heart is racing. I’m shaking with excitation. My brain is screaming at my body to do something, but I don't know what to do. They will certainly come looking for my car, hungry for more drugs.
You're being ridiculous, Lonnie. Nobody is going to steal your drugs.
I tell my feet to move. They won't move. I feel the urge to scream. I have to get away from here, I have to do something.
I start to jog again. I can get a quick workout in and get my brain to shut up at the same time. I start to jog, doing the old breathing trick I did when I was a kid trying to run the fastest 1-mile time in gym class.
I focus on my breath, to which I apply a specific breathing pattern. In, in, out. I jog, and I breathe. I jog, and then I jog faster, and my breathing sharpens – and then I jog even faster. I jog out of the neighborhood and onto the main road that connects these huge, gorgeous housing developments in Huntington Beach. I jog in the direction of a gas station that I know is just down the street from me.
I jog, and my mind turns to college basketball. I visualize myself playing in my mind, shooting 3-pointers and knowing that they’re in the hoop as soon as they leave my hand. I shoot a few more 3-pointers in my mind before losing myself completely.
The big, bright, lights, the smell of the hardwood, the sound of the ball bouncing on the floor and echoing off of every wall. The sound of solitude, and hard work, and everything that is good in life. The sound of the ball hitting nothing but net. Watching the net flip up after a perfect swish. I take myself back to some of my favorite moments playing basketball: back to Frederick, Maryland, where I scored 16 points on an overseas professional in a competitive men’s league game.
Back to West Palm Beach, Florida, where I got invited to try out for the semi-pro ABA team, the Miami Storm.
Back to Atlanta, GA, where I got made fun for doing ball handling drills with a tennis ball and then picked last, only to lead my team to victory several times in a row, scoring almost all of our points, winning in silence.
Showing up day in and day out, scoring and shooting and winning. Even when I was losing, I was getting better, so I was winning.
I press onward, jogging harder. I am going to play college basketball. Nothing is going to stop me. I notice that my shirt, which is drenched in sweat, is sticking to my skin. I peel my shirt off, barely slowing my pace. I glance up and to my right. There is a brown apartment complex. I throw my shirt in one of the bushes, making a mental note to get it out of the bush on my way back, certain that I’ll remember exactly how it landed in the bushes and precisely where it is.
I start to jog again, pretending that I have a basketball. I cross the invisible ball back and forth on the sidewalk, going out of my way to cross bushes up, crossing the imaginary ball hard and then going straight into a spin move. I lose myself in the movements. Thoughts cease, and there is nothing but my instinct telling me which dribble move to pantomime next against invisible defenders.
I stop. Why am I even going to the gas station? I should just get my car, go to 24-hour fitness, and play basketball for real. I turn around and start the journey back the way I came. I continue to run and do fake basketball moves on the shadow people. Finally, I find myself back in the residential neighborhood of Huntington Beach that my car is in.
I look around again. Is this the right neighborhood? Where am I? I walk around, looking for a landmark or something that I recognize.
There was something I was supposed to remember.
That’s right, I have to get to work. I need to find my car.
A white truck pulls up in the street next to me and stops.
That’s right, there’s a white truck coming to pick me up and take me to work! I walk up to the white truck, which has stopped in the middle of the road. Though the windows are tinted, I know that Todd is in this truck, and that he is here to pick me up to take me to Cinepolis for work. I pull on the passenger side door handle of the truck, so I can get in and go to work. The handle slips out of my hand when the door doesn’t pop open. The truck starts to drive away.
Why would Todd do that to me?! I look up at the sky. The sun is coming up? Shit, I’m going to be late for work now! I jog away from the truck. I need to go back to Todd’s house. I jog up to Todd’s house, which is the brown house right down the street. I walk up to the door and twist the doorknob. It doesn’t open.
Of course, it didn’t open, dumbass. Todd went to work.
I jog away. How am I going to get to work? I jog some more and start to feel sick.
Where am I?
“HEY! You left your stuff, like, way back there!” a random lady yells at me. I look at her, and then around at my surroundings. I don’t know where I am.
“What?” I yell back at her.
“You took your shorts off and left your stuff, like, way back there. I’ve been watching you. I think you should go home!” she yells, from across the street. I reach for my pockets.
I look down at my lower half. I have no shorts on. I am wearing nothing but black Nike compression underpants and basketball shoes. Realization strikes me like a thunderbolt: I have been running around in a state of meth-induced delusion for the entire night, playing with an invisible basketball.
I jog across the street, over to the lady.
“I’m sorry. I had a little too much to drink last night. Do you mind showing me where I left my stuff?” I ask, evaluating the woman. She is in her 40’s or 50’s, with long dark hair and a kind face. She has a small dog with her. He looks like a mutt.
“I figured. I was walking my dog, and saw you take your shorts off. I wanted to stop you when you tried to get in the truck, but I thought maybe you knew them. Then you tried to get in that house. You seemed very confused and out of it. Your pants are back this way,” she says, walking her dog down the sidewalk, back the way I came.
“Thanks,” I say, too embarrassed and ashamed to say much else. The sun is up. I try to walk naturally, like I am wearing pants instead of not wearing pants, which is a difficult thing to do. She leads me several minutes down the sidewalk, to somebody’s front yard. I see my shorts sitting in the grass in somebody’s yard, right by the sidewalk. I grab my shorts and put them on. My wallet and my phone are still in the pockets.
My keys. Shit, where are my keys?
“Do you know where my keys are?” I ask the woman, too embarrassed to look her in the eyes.
“No. I saw you take off your shorts here. I’ve been watching you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I wouldn’t be surprised if police are on their way,” she says, her eyebrows raised at me knowingly.
“Ok. Well, thanks for your help. I’m going to go. My house is in the neighborhood over there,” I lie, pointing further away from her and walking away. The word “police” forces me into action. I powerwalk until she is out of sight, and then I start to jog again.
Jog faster, Lonnie. Train harder.
No. I have to slow down. I’m becoming psychotic from overexertion, lack of nutrition, sleep deprivation, and methamphetamine. I have no drugs on me. I can slow down.
I force myself to start walking. I become aware, again, of my racing heart. It has been beating like this for days on end. It could easily explode and kill me at any second. Wait, when was the last time I did any opioids? The furanylfentanyl has been making me dopesick within 6 hours. I search my body for opioid effects. There are none.
I’m in the no man’s land between the opioid high and the withdrawal where I actually feel normal. The more I binge, the shorter the breaks become, and I’ve been binging, hard. If I feel normal now, that means I’ll be dopesick any second. I whine out loud. I want to scream up at the sky. My stomach starts to hurt terribly – it feels like it is bleeding.
I am dying.
I open my phone’s GPS and set it to my old sober living.
Shit, I don’t have a car key. I can’t get into my car! I call a locksmith, and then I start to run back towards the ironically named ‘sober living.’
I attempt to cling to reality.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington Beach. I am going to Jack’s sober living, so I can do some fentanyl, so I don’t get dopesick. I did some meth, and I haven’t slept or ate in days, so I might hallucinate. Hallucinations aren’t real.
My name is Lonnie. I am in Huntington beach. I went to Florida for rehab for sniffing oxy, and I started to shoot dope. I came to California to stop shooting dope and picked up a meth habit.
STOP!
My name is Lonnie. The world would be better off if I were dead.
I start to walk. I can’t take this. I need some music. No, playing music would be suspicious. I start to jog again, trying not to think about my racing heart. I should focus on my breathing.
No, I can’t do that. That’s what made me go psychotic.
My name is Lonnie. I am going back to Jack’s sober living…

I just got a car and got a zone parking permit for it. I don't really understand what buffer only means though. It looks like for zone 118, East Elm St is zone parking so I know I can park there, but West Elm St is "buffer only". Does that mean I can still park on that street?

This was written in response to the posts on the potential rationalist merits of the Chinese position on Taiwan to reflect in turn on the potential rationalist merits of the American position. Like all great sweeping geopolitical takes, this was inspired by binge-watching pop television. For anyone bummed out that our modern era only has the risk of global conflict to worry about, rather than the childhood prospects of inter-planetary warfare that Starcraft promised us for our adulthood, I recommend "The Expanse.”
In that show, humanity on Earth and Mars have outsourced the art of war to the comfortably distant territory of the asteroid belt. The Belters eventually unite to resist these outsider-engineered conflicts and one faction comes up with the idea to take the devastation to the inner planets by attacking them. The people of the Belt are so used to the norm of the inner planets being untouchable by retaliation that when this man asks someone to guess at his plan, they can't because it's simply "unimaginable" in his own words: "You still don't see it. Can't even imagine it. This has always been a problem for our kind. Even our dreams are small."
From the American strategic perspective, maintaining its global hegemony serves the objective of similarly keeping such a nightmare idea "unimaginable" in regards to the CONUS, which has successfully escaped the reach of war since the end of their Civil War over a century and a half ago (until it was recently shattered in Spring 2023 by a visit from Goodyear's China office).
Unless a military conflict with China reaches the level of a ICBM/nuclear exchange, it will continue to be "unimaginable." The triumph of American grand strategy is that a PLA plan to invade CONUS has been reduced to being just as unrealistic as the declassified Pentagon plans to invade Canada and defend against aliens. The simple logic of US policy in East Asia is that if you pre-emptively stand in front of your opponent's house and threaten the man from stepping a foot out from his doorstep and enlist his next-door neighbors to oppose their every step down the lawn towards the street in turn, he'll be too preoccupied to ever walk across town to your own street.
This is the simple strategic logic of why the US will not concede its position on Taiwan. American hegemony has created an unprecedented safety net for the CONUS. CONUS has enjoyed this extreme latitude of conventionally untouchable safety for too long to give it up so freely and so, the plain truth is that there is no reason why the US should give away even an inch of its hegemonic presence in the Asia-Pacific in the present circumstance. All those counter-scenarios on the encirclement of China used to point out the unreasonable or hypocritical nature of the US position of "How would you feel if a PLAN naval group sailed off the coast of California in US EEZ" or "How would you feel if a PLA base was across the Rio Grande" are precisely why the US holds its "concede-no-inch" stance, because this policy continues to preserve those scenarios as perpetually hypothetical in nature.
If a war between the two does come, it'll be fought over Taiwan. Even if the US loses, it can simply retreat to the Second Island Chain and so forth. The hypothetical World War III, sans nuclear exchange ,at most would be an existential threat against American hegemony through its hold on the Western Pacific, but not actually America itself. Accomplishing wresting WestPac control from America as a military objective would be both arduous and satisfactory enough for China that it would take (disregarding nukes) a further World War IV for conflict on CONUS to be seriously imaginable as a plausible possibility.
Contrary to popular belief, the abdication of Britain's superpower position to the US was not a voluntary decision based on "It's okay since you're also white," though Brits might now use that to justify it as post-game locker room cope. America coerced Britain's surrender as a result of the latter's weak hand in the middle of World War II and the existential specter of the Battle of Britain as a demand of American Lend Lease (which was more transactional than the "we did this out of the goodness of our hearts for our civilizational Anglo brethren" charity take that worldnews likes to trot out to guilt-trip any Euros whenever they criticize US policy).
The purpose of this tangent is to show that unless a geopolitical scenario arises where China would be able in a position to draw similar concessions from the US, there is no incentive and no rationale for the US to concede from its Taiwan position in the current context.

Hey all, it’s me Frank Jones again. I wrote that post a while ago about why you shouldn’t be a paranormal investigator and a lot of you liked it. Since settling into my hideaway in the mountains, life has become quiet and I thought about checking in. The plague hit us like nothing and now that everyone is wanting to travel again, I thought to say hi. I want to say thanks to all of you who commented and gave me those weird pointy thingies this social media does. Some of you even figured out my post office box address and sent me letters. I appreciate it (and don’t do it again).
The common strain among your posts was wanting to know if I had ever encountered other things as an auditor. Of course I have but I have been reluctant to tell you because I don’t want to shine some sort of light on all of it or make it sound like some romantic adventure. It’s “pissing yourself” fear all wrapped up in a waking nightmare with a side of gory terror. I am one of the few who actually made it to retirement…if that’s what you could call this life I’m living now.
But, I have nothing else to do really. Carl only visits once in a while when he’s passing through and I cannot risk any other sort of company knowing I’ve pissed off a lot of people…and things. So, I’m back on this internet board and sharing. So many are curious, I thought maybe another story can scare you all straight. This was the first time complacency almost got me and another killed.
This story takes place somewhere in the 90s in a small New England town. It was one of those places nestled along the banks of a serene river, historic brick buildings line the winding streets, their facades adorned with weathered signs that hint at the town's seafaring heritage. A place where everything smelled like either the ocean or decaying fish. I’m not going to specifically name the town to protect the young lady that may still be living there but in the heart of the town, there’s a renowned drawbridge which stands as a testament to the place’s affinity for water. Its ancient mechanisms creak and groan when allowing vessels to pass through the calm waterway. It also had some of the best outdoor markets I had a chance to stop and check out.
I didn’t pass through this part of the country that often as my boss preferred me to do the long hauls across the country but there was a dead haul nobody wanted.I took it cause I wanted a change of scenery. I was already working as an auditor and part of a loose alliance of others who investigated and dealt with any weird things. I actually had a few monsters under my belt. I honestly had the foolhardy idea that I could handle anything out there. God, I was an idiot.
The supernatural never crossed my mind until that evening, stopping to fuel up my red 1992 Peterbilt 379 and paying for the gas with the attendant and restocking up on those beef jerky sticks and coffee.
That was when I noticed her. She was a young woman about in her mid 30s looking like one of the corporate types with the short hair cut and business suit. I would have not paid her any mind if it wasn’t for the touch of apprehension on her face as she talked on one of those new fangled bright yellow Nokia cellphones. Soft strands of chestnut hair framed her face, their gentle sway moving as she glanced around while talking on the phone. As I observed her, I couldn't help but notice the way her fingers trembled slightly, when trying to get money out of her pocket. I’ve seen that type of fear before. So, like a creep, I eavesdropped on her call.
“Yes, it happened again,” she had said as the nickels finally made it to the counter to pay for her snacks. “I could have sworn there was something outside the window near the edge of the forest….no, of course the security cameras didn’t pick up anything. They’re cheap. Ronald was a skinflint when it came to things like this. Hope he’s rotting in hell wherever he is.”
My mind began to drift away, more annoyed I couldn’t get a move on it. It sounded like a problem for the police and if anything, I was gonna tell her that. It was what she said next that made me stop and brought back the reality of the world.
“Yeah. like nine or ten feet tall. I’m thinking kids are playing around with scarecrows or something. Won’t come from the edge of the forest and when I check, I can see foot impressions and stuff. I already put in a call to the cops. They found nothing.“
“Did it sway a bit and its eyes seem to glint like a cats or owl?” I asked without thinking.
The look I got from both her and the gas attendant made me realize what I had done. Well, too late now.
“I’ll call you back,” she said quickly, eyeing me as she hung up the phone and slipped it back into her purse.
“You need me to walk you to your car, ma’am?” the attendant asked, staring at me.
Of course, I forgot that The Truck Stop Killer had only been arrested a few years before.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she said, quickly gathering her stuff and making for the door. I slapped the one hundred and seventy bucks on the counter to pay for my diesel guzzler ignoring the change and followed her out but making sure to not move in a way that caused the teenager in the station to call the cops.
“Ma’am,” I called out to her and she turned to me while hurrying up her pace.
“I’ve got pepper spray. Stay away from me.”
“The thing in the woods. You could have sworn you smelled fresh dirt like mulch and it seemed to sway back and forth like it could not keep its balance.” I threw it out there in desperation.
She froze and turned to look at me. Eying me up and down as I kept my distance and angled to head towards my truck.
“How do you know?”
“I…uh…dealt with something like that before. On a job in Canada.”
“Who are you?” she asked, looking at my faded shirt and company logo. “A trucker?”
“I moonlight as a problem solver. Like an auditor of sorts.”
“Who is it?” she demanded, eyes still affixed to me and hand in her purse.
“Better question is ‘what is it?’,” I answered.
I have learned to pick up on the contempt and disbelief from people who hadn’t seen what I have. I was already being dismissed as a whack job.
“You have tracks on your porch you have written off as animals, especially if you own a dog. If you did own a dog, it’s missing. Cops told you it ran away. You got a garden?”
“Yes,” the certainty had started to leave her voice. “A walled garden.”
“And anytime you’re in there, you feel like you’re being watched.”
At that, her hand came out of her purse empty and she approached me with the fear I had seen in her eyes now on her face.
“How did you know?”
“I’d rather not explain out here,” I said sheepishly running my hand through my sandy brown hair that only started getting flecks of gray. “But you got a…pest problem.”
“And you can do something about it? I’ve had exterminators, cops, nature lovers…even a priest.”
“None of those won’t do you any good and I don’t want to scare ya but it’s more active which is not a good sign.”
For a few moments, I could see the indecision in her eyes. The desperate want to dismiss me as a lunatic but whatever she had heard or seen won over.
“Fine. You can follow me to the house.”
“Mind if I hitch a ride?”
The woman started but then looked at my truck. “Promise. I mean you no harm. I really think you’re in danger.”
That was when I found her name was Isabelle Walker.
We left my truck in long-term parking after she told the attendant that I was a long lost relative and that’s why the change of demeanor. I don’t know if he believed her but at that point, I don’t think he cared. I left my truck with its metallic frame standing tall and proud amidst the rows of other vehicles.
I did not realize how desperate this woman was until we got going on the road. I had loaded myself in the passenger seat after pulling out my military backpack from the war which I also used for my auditing services and tried to look as harmless as a man of my stature could.
For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, her focus was on the lonely road, those beautiful eyes darting to me anytime I shifted my weight. I didn’t want to scare her so it was her that spoke first.
“What is it?”
“I really don’t know but the people in my profession call it a Bone Walker.”
The nose crinkled in disbelief.
“Halloween is not for a few more months, Mister…”
“Jones. Frank Jones.”
The James Bond reference caused her to snort in amusement.
“I don’t know what to tell ya, ma’am, except I’ve dealt with some pretty scary things out there. Normally I’m never this forward as most people try to call the cops on me or dismiss me as a lunatic. I mean, I could be a lunatic but I know what I’ve seen.”
“And that is…?”
“You know. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves. They’re real. They’re not common but real nevertheless.”
“Really?”
There was still the disbelief in Isabelle’s voice but I grew to ignore things like this.
“Sure. I mean, think of all the things you experienced and be open to alternate answers.”
Isabelle was quiet for a few minutes and then sighed. “Either you are telling the truth or you're the biggest liar and I’m a fool that’s not going to live through this night.”
“I promise,” I tried to reassure her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
After a few more minutes and off the main highway, we approached her home. The large house stood resolute amidst the dense, ancient forest, its weathered exterior a testament to the passing of time. It was a grand structure, its imposing presence commanding attention. The sprawling estate exuded an air of mystery and faded grandeur, as if it held stories whispered through generations.
As we pulled in, the main house loomed before me, its facade adorned with intricate woodwork and worn stone. Ivy crept along the walls, weaving an emerald tapestry that hinted at the passage of years. The windows, framed by elegant yet slightly cracked panes, stared out into the world with a mixture of curiosity and melancholy.
To the side, a large shed stood detached from the main house, its weathered boards echoing tales of forgotten tools and lost endeavors. The wooden structure sagged under the weight of time, its roof covered in a patchwork quilt of moss. Inside, shadows danced amidst remnants of a bygone era, rusty equipment and dusty shelves attesting to the once-bustling activity that had long since ceased.
Not far from the shed, a family cemetery nestled amongst the ancient trees. Tombstones, adorned with intricate carvings and weathered inscriptions, dotted the landscape. The hallowed ground exuded a solemn tranquility, as if time stood still in reverence for those who rested eternally in its embrace. Wisps of fog clung to the grassy knolls, lending an ethereal quality to the sacred space.
At the far end of the property, an old walled garden stood as a testament to the house's former splendor. Once vibrant and lush, the garden now appeared overgrown and untamed. Stone paths meandered through a sea of tangled foliage, leading to hidden nooks and forgotten corners. Dilapidated stone benches, adorned with intricate carvings, sat scattered throughout the garden, silent witnesses to a time when laughter and conversation filled the air.
As I stood amidst the silence of the forest, the house, shed, cemetery, and walled garden formed a tapestry of history and mystery. They were a testament to the ebb and flow of life, the remnants of a bygone era that clung to the present. Within their weathered walls, secrets whispered and memories danced, waiting to be discovered by those who dared to venture into their enigmatic embrace.
“Great place to be haunted, huh?” she said with sarcasm. “My ex left it to me in the divorce. Was only going to be here long enough to sell it but no one wants it and my job wants me to move to this state anyway.”
“Where are you originally from?”
“California.”
“So, this is definitely a change of scenery for you,”
Isabelle only hummed back at me as she fumbled for her keys in the dying light of evening. I pulled my backpack closer to me as my eyes scanned the treeline where the shadows had begun to deepen. Nothing stood out against the silhouettes of ancient trees which was a good sign. I wasn’t too late.
Stepping through the weathered front door, I entered the interior of the old house, greeted by a mix of nostalgia and faded elegance. The air carried a hint of mustiness, a reminder of the countless years the house had to have witnessed. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the stained-glass windows, I could make out the clash between old decor and the modern furniture Isabelle had bought.
The foyer, adorned with a worn, threadbare rug. The walls, once adorned with portraits and intricate wallpaper, now bore the markings of time's passage. The wooden banister of the grand staircase, polished with use, creaked softly under my touch as we made our way towards the living room.
Moving further into the house, I found myself in a spacious living room. Large, ornate windows which would have allowed slivers of daylight to filter through the heavy velvet curtains. The walls were adorned with faded wallpaper. An aged fireplace, its stone mantle adorned with trinkets and old photographs, served as the heart of the room.
“You want some coffee?” Isabelle asked, throwing her keys on to the coffee table. I sat down on her couch and dropped my backpack on it with a clunk.
“Sure.”
“Sugar?”
“A lot.”
The kitchen light clicked on and I heard her moving about setting up the coffee pot. The adrenalin was now pumping through me as my mind raced. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail on what a Bone Walker is but it’s a creature that usually haunts the western coast. It being so far out east was strange. I pulled out my old gun bag and unrolled it. My Stevens Model 520-30 “Trench” shotgun was the first thing I reached for as I popped open the internal pouch holding he high flash shells I was glad I packed. It was the startled sound from Isabelle that made me quickly look up.
She stood there with my coffee, eyes locked on the shotgun in my hand. I slowly held up one of the cartridges I was planning to load.
“Flash powder shotgun shells. No load. Just makes a loud noise and a bright white light. What we’re facing lives in the shadows and hates light…normally,” I had heard stories that they could strike in the day but it was extremely rare. She didn’t need to know that.
“Oh,” was her quiet response. “Do…do I need a gun?”
“You know how to use one?”
“No.”
“Then it’ll do more harm than good. You got any flashlights?”
Isabelle nodded mutely, the gravity of the situation sinking in at the array of weapons and items in my pack laid out in front of her.
“Go get them.”
While she was gone, I quickly unloaded the silver bullets out of my Makarov pistol (a gift from a Viet Cong officer and a story for another time) and placed normal 9mm rounds in the clip. I had it holstered under my jacket with the two back up clips when she returned with three cheap flashlights.
“One in your hand and one in your pocket.”
“Why?”
“In case you drop the one you are holding.”
The woman obeyed silently.
As night fell quickly around us, I slung my shotgun over my shoulder and with Isabelle close, we made our way upstairs. There were tell tale signs I needed to check as the only advantage I had over this thing was the fact it stuck to a pattern. If it was at the stage I thought it was, there would be signs.
“Which room is yours?” I asked.
Isabelle pointed to a door down the hallway across from a large window. Approaching it, I quickly shined my flashlight at the mahogany door frame. It was the glint that caught my eye. Deep gouges in the wood.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Claw marks,” I responded. There was no use sugar coating anything now.
“This thing was in my house?” Isabelle said horrified.
“For the last few weeks now,” I said, my nose picking up the faint odor of dirt and mud.
“Why didn’t it attack me then?”
“It wasn’t time.”
“What?”
Talking was going to be the only thing to keep her focused. I had felt the world shift a bit as night fell and I needed her not to panic.
“Bone Walkers are ritualistic creatures. They are very choosy over their prey. It can take a month or two before they move in. That’s why they are so hard to catch.”
“Criteria? Like what?”
“We don’t know.”
That was the honest truth. The only reason we knew their existence and patterns was thanks to blind luck and people surviving their encounters. I showed my light around looking for other signs. Discolored stains in the corners where shadows would naturally form, healthy moss and mold that shouldn’t be there. I found a patch around her bed. She did not notice and I did not want to tell her that it probably stood over her through the night watching her sleep. The sooner I buried this thing, the better.
“Frank!”
There was a trill of terror in Isabelle’s voice and I immediately looked to where she was. The woman was standing by her bedroom window staring out at something. I quickly moved and spotted what she saw. In the forest, at the edge of the shadow cast by the moonlight was an almost, imperceptible form. It stood nine feet, hunched over like a broken scarecrow, its owl like eyes staring back at us.
“Shit,” I muttered. Thank god we had turned on the lights as we went.
It was the flash of light and the crack of thunder that heralded the arrival of the storm. The lights of this old houses flickered which caused my belly to flop a few times. My brain was on fire as I glanced back from the lightbulb to where the creature was and found it had vanished.
“Where did it go?”
I did not have time to explain as another crack of lightning caused the lights to dim. I grabbed Isabelle roughly by the arm and yanked her back down the hallway towards the living room where I had left my stuff. We barely made it to the living room when the lights dimmed low. I grasped the glow sticks out of the bag, cracked a handful and scattered them about, their bright yellow light beginning to glow. The power then went out bathing us only in the eerie glow of the emergency lighting.
As we waited in breathless anticipation, the storm struck, its wrath manifesting in torrential rain. The mansion seemed to respond, succumbing to a power outage that plunged us into an abyss of blackness only moments before.
A trill of terror coursed through me. I knew this Bone Walker thrived in darkness, using it as a cloak to conceal its malevolence. We auditors were not sure if it actually teleported or it preferred to move in pitch darkness. I just knew that the black was our biggest threat.
For a few moments, we could only hear the ragged breathing of the two of us being drowned out by the pounding rain against shingle and glass. Isabelle had wound her hand into my jacket pocket and was gripping it tightly, I could feel her shaking with terror. I kept my shotgun gripped tightly in my hand listening for the tell tale sound of its arrival.
It was the movement out of the corner of my eye and the fact her grip got tighter on my jacket. I swiftly turned on my high-powered flashlight as I spun around and the brilliant beam pierced the obscure corner of the room. No matter what I had read or seen before did not prepare me for what I saw.
It stood there in the corner, its eight foot height engulfing that section of the house. My eyes strained as it appeared the thing was struggling to stay in focus. Its arms were too long for its body, spindly and almost to the floor while the legs appeared backwards giving it a strange forward leaning look. It wore a hunter’s long coat and trousers but through the rips and tears I could make out something squirming and moving underneath. The air filled with the stench of decaying plants and diseased vegetation. Its face was covered with what looked like the remnants of a cheap bandanna but its owl-like eyes gleaned back with malevolence.
Isabelle whimpered, her fear palpable in the room and the Bone Walker lunged toward us. Even though my fear was ripping through me like an unstoppable train, I had the sense to pull the trigger of my shotgun aimed in its direction. The flash and resounding roar painted the entire room in a brilliant black and white shadow causing every corner and edge to appear thick and vivid. The creature screamed and fell to the side into the shadow not illuminated by the weapon’s fire.
Isabelle had thrown herself on the couch and was huddled there, trembling with terror, while I moved quickly to crack a few more glow sticks and toss them into the dark corners of the room. In one, I saw its foot recoil back into the kitchen where it was darker than night itself. This was quicker than I had anticipated. The plans I had been formulating on the drive were no longer viable. I wanted to lure it to where I controlled the battlefield but that was not an option anymore. This had become a cat and mouse game and I knew this was with a predator I could not even hope to understand and had years to hone.
Out of the kitchen again this thing charged forward, relentless in its pursuit, it was trying to find a way around my light barrier which only appeared to slow it down. With shaking hands, I fired several more rounds, each blast forcing the creature to retreat and the girl to scream in terror. As soon as it retreated to a dark part of the house, I turned to where the woman of the house had been. To my horror, Isabelle's fear had gotten the best of her. In that moment of panic, she darted from the safety of the light, towards the hallway and the door outside.
“Isabelle! Stop!” I yelled trying to command her back with my voice but I doubted she heard me. Between the abject horror and the relentless rain, she was going to take her chance. A chance I knew she did not have.
I only took a step when I sensed it. The musty smell of an organic landfill overwhelmed me as the form silently darted past me, its long arm clobbering me up the side of the head. The world spun as pain burst through my brain. I felt the world tilt and fall heavily to the ground, flashlight and shotgun falling away.
As I slipped in and out of consciousness, I knew I was a sitting duck for this thing. There was no way for me to stop it from ripping me to shreds like some of the corpses I had seen. As I blinked, I came to my senses and realized I was alone. How long I had actually been on the ground, I did not know.
I sat up, my head pounding and I could see the door hanging open, the wind slamming the door on its hinges and the rain soaking the hallway floor. Struggling, I found my flashlight and gun and pulled myself together.
There was a slim chance that Isabelle was still alive. I had to think. Where would it go? I ran all the stories I could think of and then it hit me. The garden. The walled garden.
I charged into the rain-soaked night. I sprinted toward the enclosed garden at the edge of the property. As I grew closer, I saw that the rusted door was open and hope flickered in my soul. As I came to a stop, I brought my flashlight up again with my shotgun and saw it.
This creature stood there in the middle of the overgrown garden, its massive clawed hand wrapped around Isabelle’s chest and holding her up. Out from under its bandanna mask, putrid vines had appeared and led up to Isabelle’s face where they were forcing their way down her throat and up her nose. I could see the wide terror in her eyes as vines were snaking their way around her waist and I did not want to think about what they were planning to do.
I brought up the shotgun again and fired. Knowing that I had distance, the flash of light caught the creature by surprise. It shrieked as it fell back. Trying desperately not to release its prey. I did not hesitate to grab the machete at my side and hack at its arm until Isabelle fell down free of it.
It’s claw swiped at me striking me on the leg and easily tearing through my pants leaving bloody lacerations but I put the weapon point blank and fired another round. I do not know if it was the flash, the combination of the creature, or that the almighty above was looking out for me, but the creature caught ablaze from the spark.
It fell back swinging wildly as the fire spread unnaturally fast catching the plants around it on fire. Within a matter of seconds, the walled garden had become ablaze with the bone walker in the center. As I ripped the vines out of Isabelle’s mouth and dragged her towards the door, I looked up to see those owl-like eyes looking at me with such abject hatred that the look stick with me today.
I honestly don’t know how we survived. I had helped Isabelle to her porch and we both passed out against our will from the sheer terror and exhaustion. We were awoken by the sound of a siren. The lights had come back on sometime in our sleep and the rain had drifted off to a comforting drizzle. The fire was still raging in the garden but contained by the ancient walls. At least two fire trucks, an ambulance and cops were flying up the private road towards us.
This entire hunt had been ill-planned and stupid. I knew it. As the cops approached with their hand on their pistols, I knew that I had allowed my own ego to get in the way. I should have taken Isabelle somewhere else until I had done a proper reconnaissance. I shouldn’t have taken her home where it was waiting. And now, the cops were looking at two thoroughly soaked humans, one a trucker with a wound and a gun and a young lady in distress. I was pretty sure I was going to go to jail.
“Isabelle?” One of the cops and his voice caused her to sit up, relief washing over her.
“Derek!” she wailed. “We were attacked! In the garden!”
Another two cops that had arrived had taken off in that direction while Derek helped the girl up and took her towards the ambulance. The other cop with a comically large mustache looked at me with keen eyes, his hand still on his pistol, sergeant stripes glowing in the light.
“Attacked?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting up slowly and keeping my hand away from the shotgun and trying not to show the one under my jacket. “Someone came after Mrs. Walker. They were in the garden.”
The cop watched me closely but there seemed to be a recognition in his eyes.
“You by any chance Frank Jones?”
My heart jumped and I must have looked startled as the cop’s face broke into a smile. To my relief, his hand fell away from his holstered sidearm.
“I’ll take that for a yes. My guess is you don’t remember me. Clay Wilson. Santa Fe PD, about six years ago. You helped my partner with a...problem. Nellie Nelson?”
I knew the name but the face escaped me.
“She told me you helped her audit a police union building.”
“Ah, yes,” I said, remembering dealing with the wraith and the twinge in my right arm from it’s bite.
The cop looked towards the fire that was slowly being put out by the fire fighters.
“Any chance this will be one of your audits?”
“Yeah.”
He seemed to think for a few minutes and then nodded.
“Then I think you need to grab that shotgun of yours and hitch a ride with me before too many people ask questions. Whatcha think?”
I nodded. I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I collected my stuff quickly from the living room and made my way back out where he was waiting. As I limped with the cop to his car, I looked towards Isabelle who was being held by the other. She gave me a look of thankfulness as the cop looked at his partner with confusion.
“Her brother’s got her,” Clay said, opening the back door for me. I was not gonna argue or fight. If he took me to jail or not.
And that was it. My leg was not as bad off as I thought and wrapped it in the back of the police car. Clay only asked where I wanted to go and he took me back to my truck. With that time, I was back on the road with that small town in the rear view mirror.
I never did find out what happened to Isabelle after that, if another creature came looking for her or if she had a chance to live in peace. I just knew that we both barely made it out alive and that was due to my own stupidity. I was furious with myself for weeks after that and told myself I wouldn’t put another person in jeopardy like that again. At least, despite my idiocy, another life was saved and another monster was put in the ground...I hoped. I never did find out if they found a body.

Honestly? I have no idea how to start this one. In fact, I don't even know if I should post this, period. My parents brought me my phone a couple hours ago, and scrolling through YouTube and Reddit doesn't do much to take my mind off of things. I might as well write my heart out, right? Maybe somebody out there can find my story helpful, insightful, thoughtful... I dunno. Anyways, I might as well get writing before another couple officers walk in, looking for some details that they missed the last time I told them about what happened on June 3rd.
This part isn't exactly central to the story per se, but I'd like to just honor my buds, say what I thought about them before I forget. These guys, to me, were like a second family. The type of guys you'd call to help get rid off a body, the type of guys who would follow you anywhere. I've known them since I transferred in 4th grade. Only pair of dudes that would give me the time of day in the entire school, Andy and Gabriel. Andy was a sort of short and skinny guy, but he'd talk so much you'd swear he was six inches taller than he was. He'd always go on like he was God's greatest gift on Earth, especially when it came to sports. He'd yell Kobe and miss a rebound, or tell us to call him Messi and miss every goal. Your typical jokester. We didn't start off as friends either. It was around the fourth time
in the Office for fighting that I got wise, looked over at him, glanced at his bruised eye, then felt my own jaw. "Hey, we good? I got my licks-" I paused to scratch my cheek for effect- "and you definitely got yours..." Andy just looked me up and down once, checked himself, grinned like a Hyena and that was that. I met Gabriel through Andy. He was the only one of us you could call a popular kid. He's good at Baseball, really friggin' athletic, tall, built like a milk truck, and kind. Super kind. Like you could just ask him for a french fry, or a slice of bacon off his burger or something and he'd just do it. Didn't expect anything back. Didn't say anything. He'd glance up and just give you whatever you needed, no BS. We were walking back to Gabe's house after a party at a Junior's house, some slacker that wears a bunch of fake bling to school and takes "bathroom breaks" to vape in the stall. Some dude destined to be handing you a Big Mac in a couple years, you know? Not exactly the shining example of morality, not that I would know. Anyways, I really only showed up to shoot the shit with my buds and for some "apple juice" in those plastic red cups. I was going to bounce when I figured out this dude who was hosting the party, Mr. "I'm too cool for school", didn't have anything that could get me plastered. As it turns out, Gabriel wasn't feeling the party either, and Andy was "having no luck with the ladies", (Giggity,) so we all decided to nab a couple of waters and cookies for the road and stepped out into a warm summer evening. (Seriously, Andy gives me pedo vibes sometimes)
It wasn't exactly dark when we left the house. It was that perfect time of night where there was red, orange and purple reflecting off of the clouds in the sky. I snapped a photo 'cause I'm that kinda guy, and we started walking. This neighborhood was one of those aging 60's neighborhoods with all of the one story buildings, rusty chain-link fences, crack houses, senior citizens, that sort of stuff. Perfectly square blocks and blocks of houses with the peeling paint, broken sidewalks, barking dogs, you get the picture. If you were to think of the neighborhood from the top down, it would be like a big square with about three streets of depth inwards, with a big forest in the middle. Inconveniently, the party was in the western corner, while Gabe's house was down a slope, on the exact opposite side, the east side of the neighborhood. Basically a big pain in the posterior. Now just to be clear, we couldn't call Gabriel's mom for a pickup because of the nature of the party, and we weren't really feeling like taking the shortcut path through the woods at night, so we took the long way around. about a quarter of the way down, like 10-15 minutes into the walk, the lights lining the street flicked on. Now, that didn't bother us too much, because Gabe's casa was su casa, or whatever. In short, we had spent a lot of time walking around here before. Anyways, when the lights turned on they sort of dazzled my eyes, and a whole thing happened with me and the sidewalk called tripping. I went down and cut up my hands real nice and both of the guys turned around to help me up. It took them a second to spot me, because the lights lining the street were spaced in such a way that they would have a sort of staggered area of effect when they turned on. I had happened to trip right in one of the dark spots, so like I said, it took them a second to get me off of the ground. I got up, and did that thing you do when your hands hurt after a fall and you smack them together and rub them against your pants.
"You good?" asked Andy.
"Yeah yeah, I'm fine," I said, still slapping my thighs.
I looked up and saw somebody standing underneath the closest streetlamp. They were positioned in such a way that they faced the road from the lip of the sidewalk they stood on, with their head cocked slightly way from us and down, like they were staring intently at a bug or something in the road.
they guys must have seen me gazing off into the distance and they turned around to stare with me. the figure was around 20 feet away, right underneath the halo of light that the streetlamp made. they were wearing an old ice cream coat and uniform, like something out of the 60's. The folded cap on their head at a jaunty angle, a shock of slicked back golden hair just underneath it.
"Whaaaaat theeeee fuuuuuuck..?" I whisper to no one in particular.
When did he get there?
We had started walking towards the man, transfixed, and stopped just outside of the light's reach. He looked gaunt, sickly, almost. His mouth was pulled into a thin customer service sort of smile. the uniform he wore was a bit dirty, with a twig or two hanging from his pants like he had been running through the forest or something. that something on the ground seemed to be pretty interesting to him, so we all turned to try to sot what was capturing his attention. Looking back, I should have known right there. Have you ever seen someone doing or wearing or saying something that had compelled you to stare at them? Like a junkie downtown or some dude wearing a sign saying the end is nigh? And do you remember how you tried not to stare but kept that person in your peripheral vision, because they were interesting or suspicious or whatever? That's exactly what this guy was doing. He was looking at us. We never even noticed. Anyways, we hadn't seen anything on the ground so we looked back at this dude. BOOM! Instant time-out. Somewhere in that quick glance when we weren't paying attention, his head snaps up and locks us with this piercing stare. Now my heart's going a mile a minute. Fight or flight's kicked in and I tense up. my hands come up and I'm making fists. Meanwhile, the rational, thinking part of me is analyzing this guy. He hasn't broken that unnerving, artificial customer service smile. in fact, it looks almost wider, almost hungry. that's not the worst part. there's blood on his left thigh, black now after so much time. His eyes. I'm going to remember those eyes 'till the day I die. Even at night, his pupils were a darker black than anything in the world had any right to be. All consuming, omnipotent, soul-seeing eyes. The killing intent radiating from this thing was overpowering. Time-in.
"Jesus Christ!" Gabe barks.
It's the first time I've heard him swear. Andy's transfixed.
"What's the game plan?" I say, surprising myself with the icy calm in my own voice.
Andy's practically talking to himself. "I-I think we should-" he swallows audibly- "go around?"
The light creates an invisible barrier between us and the man-thing. we shuffle along the edges of each streetlight's effect. The neighborhood goes silent, save for a slight breeze along my back. every time i glance towards the ground to make sure I stay out of the light, he seems to get closer. of course he doesn't in actuality, because every time I look up in fear, he's still standing there, right there on the curb. We finally make it around that first light and turn around to face the second one. He's right there. Right on the border. that invisible line that separated the living from the dead.
Andy falls backwards. His arm falls into the light and instantly it's upon him. it's nails have turned into long, wicked claws. They rip into his upper arm and shoulder. It managed to nick his artery before we pull him out of the light. Andy is screaming bloody murder and I take off my shirt and tie it around the worst around the worst of his wounds. An uncaring, cold part of me surveys the damage and notes that Andy is unlikely to live more than an hour without emergency care. I hate that part of me. I hate how in that time of crisis, I could come to terms with one of my best friends dying to a freak on the street. Did it even matter? those years of friendship, now that I look back? That's one of the reasons I'm writing this story I guess. This story is me caring, right? The fact that I'm writing this shows I care, right? Anyways, in that instant I know we're screwed. there's no way we can get Andy back to Gabriel's house in time if we have to deal with this thing. The Ice-Cream Man surveyed his work as Gabe tried calling his mom for the fourth time. Andy had stopped screaming and passed out. I ended up holding his hand, staring up at this monster. It seemed to enjoy hurting us, enjoy it's handiwork. I grimaced and turned to Gabriel.
"Time to go, dude." Gabe looked up at me, still holding his buzzing cellphone to his ear. there was desperation and shock in his eyes, and I guess it was the same for me too. "We've got to go."
I made it clear this wasn't a conversation to be having.
It's sort of an open secret that I'm the thug of the school. At least, that's what everyone else thinks. It's not like I'll try to rob you or anything, but everyone knows that time I bent a kid's knee backwards. I didn't get into major trouble because of it, due to the fact there was a recording showing three guys ganging up on me, hurting me. I didn't have to make that kid a cripple, but I did. I got beaten for a year and a half, by those same three guys, and it all came out at once. I wanted to hurt him, and I did. but when you do that to someone, no matter how justified, people treat you different. especially when they're the same people who watched me get punched, and kicked, and hit, and put down. In a heartbeat, I was an untouchable. No more social life. No girlfriend, or anything like that. So, my only friends on this earth were Andy and Gabe. Blah blah blah, I'm sure you don't care about the sob story screw-up called my life. Anyways, the important part is that Gabe knew my business voice when I spoke.
"Okay, here's the idea." I glanced over to Mr. Freak. "We're going to take the forest path. It doesn't have any lights, so we'll be fine. if we move fast on the downhills, we can make it to your Mom's house and go to the hospital before..." I spared a glance to looked at Andy's face. he looked like he was sleeping. I felt around for his pulse.
He was still alive, thank God.
Gabe looked like he wanted to say something, and I knew exactly what he wanted to say. We were going to cross that bridge when we came to it.
We had, like I said, been around the block before. we made it to the trailhead, with that thing following us all of the way. jumping from streetlight to streetlight. The streetlight that would normally light the signpost and path into the forest was out, and it had been for years. That wasn't the issue. The issue was that the exit, the exit that was a short jog away from Gabe's house, had been replaced just last summer. we both knew that it was very likely that someone wouldn't make it. Gabe hoisted Andy into a fireman's carry, and we started our descent down the hill in silence. I made a sparing glance backwards, and there the Ice-Cream Man stood waiting.
It was hard keeping track of which trail we were on and where to turn in the pitch dark. It was around 10:00 now, and Andy seemed to get worse as time went on. We almost got lost a couple times, and we had to double back every now and again too. Gabriel and I said nothing as we went downhill. We said nothing when we saw the trail outlet at the bottom of the hill. We said nothing when the Ice-Cream Man appeared right underneath the lamppost. The sign read; "Rubicon Valley River Loop: 1.1 mi". We came right up to that invisible border again.
"I'll go first."
"Will you? We both know-"
"Shut the hell up and listen to me."
Gabriel. He was good at Baseball, really friggin' athletic, tall, built like a milk truck, and kind. Super kind. Like you could just ask him for a french fry, or a slice of bacon off his burger or something and he'd just do it. Even if there was a deadly monster chasing you, with his Mom's house just a short jog away. Even if you were willing to fight it instead, even if it didn't make sense for him to stay behind. Even if he knew you wouldn't want to keep living without him and Andy. Didn't expect anything back. Didn't say anything. Even though I'm writing this story just 6 hours later, I can't remember for the life of me how I got across that halo of light without him right behind me. Gabe's Mom flew down the porch when I rounded the corner of the cul-de-sac. I bet she was wondering why we were home so late, why Gabriel wasn't with us, why I was staying clear of the streetlights.
I remember her asking me where her niño was.
When I woke up in the hospital, the police asked me where the wolves attacked us. I didn't correct them. What was the point? I assume they knew what was actually out there. After all, wolves bite and tear. It was just a line for the news stations. Turns out I was raked across the back by a wolf too. The doctors told me I was very lucky. They said if Gabe's Mom was a second slower getting us to the ER, I would have ended up like Andy. I feel cold. I haven't been crying. Do I even care? I feel like I'm a horrible person. I hope that I'm allowed to go to their funerals, pay my respects. My Dad has a Machete hidden under the bed. That Ice-Cream Man better be counting every second he has left, because I'm going to do more than bend his knee backwards next June 3rd.

I mostly only bike through the north side, but there are a couple of trips that I have to make occasionally on the south side that I would like to make by bicycle.
I tried to get off at 63rd from the LFT and found out that the road is pretty seriously closed for construction. I just walked my bike through the construction site the best I could and found the bike lane on 63rd to be decent enough, but I was wondering what people use for a LFT exit in that area and what streets they take to get east/west?
Also, for MLK Drive how do people typically bike that in the boulevard section? I tried using the bike lane, but I kind of think that I would have been better off using the side lanes instead? Is there a better north/south route to take instead around that area?
Also in general, what are your favorite streets for getting around in the area from let's say like Woodlawn to Bronzeville?

As a white German lady, I swear don't mean to sound like one of those Aznidentity weirdos (don't click on that sub unless you want to go down a rabbithole...seriously), but...I can't possibly be the only one who feels this way, right?
Yesterday, I came across yet another 1989 Tiananmen thread and of course, as predicted, the very top comment was about how the commenter supposedly knows many Chinese people who are completely clueless about what happened there. Meanwhile, I've known well over a dozen Chinese people through education or work in my adult life, and while I obviously don't directly bring the topic up, pretty much every single one of them has at least implied they knew what happened.
Then just now, I was in an AskReddit thread about "what does Japan do better than the rest of the world", and just about every single comment was about something negative (Racism, whale hunting, war crime denial, etc.), with some even using it to justify the internment of Japanese diaspora in WW2. I responded to a comment about how while it's true that all of these are warranted criticisms of Japan, western countries should also look in the mirror with these criticisms, considering the U.S. still has holidays dedicated to celebrating genocide (Thanksgiving, Columbus Day, etc.) and the South still has streets, schools, towns, etc. named after fucking Confederate generals. It's only been 15 minutes since I made that comment and it's already at -2. For the record: I don't have any issue with people pointing out these issues, but all too often it's used to drum up American/western jingoism, with some people in that thread even claiming that the U.S. has never denied any of its past atrocities, for fuck's sake!
I feel like every single time an Asian country is mentioned on Reddit, people instantly have to shriek about all the societal negatives, like the shit work culture, high suicide rates, or xenophobia. The only countries I see get mentioned in a remotely positive light are maybe Hong Kong and Taiwan since those are China's biggest adversaries, but even still you'll be lucky not to find some dolt spamming some le funny maymay like "TAIWAN NUMBAH WAN!!" to the tune of hundreds of upvotes.
I get China is the big hegemon threatening U.S. dominance around the world, but when it comes to Japan/Korea, I feel like Reddit has become so hateful of westerners who like Asian pop culture like anime and K-Pop that they've gone full circle and just become racist in a full-on open hateful way rather than the "exotic" fetishistic way.
I seriously just don't think the vast majority of westerners online (both those who like Asian pop culture and those that hate it) can't comprehend that East Asia is, for the most part, full of normal fucking people who are more similar to us than different. It's neither a paradise nor a hellhole.

https://i.imgur.com/3FUQkqd.jpg
Location - Palm Springs, CA — Zone 9B • Soil Conditions - Sandy • Which side of your house - East Side of house. Shaded in afternoon • Budget - 1k • Your experience level - Zero • Pictures - see Imgur photo
Hi, I moved into an new home where I was left with a sand lot in the backyard. There is an AC unit behind the window where I am taking the photo but everything else is sand.
I would like to get this bad boy ready to add a section of drought tolerant grass, a place for a fire pit l, some type of tree and some local vegetation. I have a 1k budget and a desert nursery down the street.
I like lots of dark greens and purples and I’d like to add those types of plants to our backyard. Any info would be so helpful!
Inspiration vegetation https://imgur.com/a/70Cb6TT/

My partner and I are thinking about moving to a more walkable city on the East Coast that isn't NYC. We found that Pittsburgh (downtown specifically) is extremely walkable but I was wondering if there is a certain street that would be optimal for living on and getting by without much use of a car. I've found The Venue Apartments meet our budget but I am still doing research on grocery stores/ cafes/ markets in the city. Any advice?