I’ve posted here so many times about my neighbors who are extremely pushy and don’t really pay attention to their child. Quick side note: they have a built-in pool with no fence around it and the wife and two daughters can’t swim. I have been avoiding them because of all of the BS they pull. We went to Super Mario World on Friday so yesterday we were pretty tired. Our kids were playing in our (above ground) pool most of the day. We have another neighbor who has recently been bringing her daughter over to play even though her daughter is only 3 but my kids are (almost) 6 and 7. When the other neighbor saw my kids playing with another kid, I got a text that said: “Hey girl, are the boys able to play. Idk why but P keeps telling me that the boys asked her to go to their pool. She’s running around the house with her swimsuit and floaty. Is this true? I keep asking her who told you and she keeps answering they are waiting for me.”
One problem I have with these people is they let their 4 year old run their household. My kids hadn’t even seen P that day and I know this because we watched our kids play outside like we always do and P never came outside. My response to this message was:
“I have no idea. They been in our pool all day until a few hours ago.” Mind you, they are, at this point, playing outside in the front yard with another child. These people had to have known that because there’s no way they couldn’t see it.
So she replies: “Oh ok. Lol maybe she just heard them.”
I replied with a 🤷🏼‍♀️ emoji.
I feel like she was basically asking if P can come over and swim. That’s a big HELL NO for me. They have a built-in pool; we don’t. P can’t swim; Mom can’t swim; teenaged daughter can’t swim. I don’t want them in my pool! That’s a huge liability. I don’t want my kids swimming at their house because nobody over there can swim except the dad, they don’t have a fence around their pool even though it’s required by law, and they don’t watch their kid let alone mine. I also will not invite their daughter to swim at my house since she can’t swim! I don’t want to babysit her kid in my pool. It’s a lot but they are quite negligent. Everything they do regarding their child really gets in my nerves. Would I be an asshole if I reported them to code enforcement for not having a fence around their pool? It seems like an accident waiting to happen, and they have pulled so much BS. In one hand I want to fuck with them like they fuck with me, but honestly, it scares me. Nobody there knows how to swim except the dad who works all day, and there’s no fence around the pool! It’s insane. And then she wants me to invite her non- swimming child to my house to swim??

I am a 27 year old female who has recently started distancing myself from a man I was dating. We were dating and then decided to take a break but we never had a discussion of what our break would entail, how long our break should last, and during our break, we would still go on dates together.
I have come to realize though that he might be a narcissist. We were in the same friend/music group in our community for couple of years and would attend and perform at open mics. We naturally started dating. What’s hard is I think I am the only one who has found out that he is a narcissist. Everyone else, outsiders, and people in our friend group don’t know his true self as I have seen and had to deal with. They think he is really nice person. But I've always had bad feelings about him and he kept chasing me and everyone else kept saying he is a nice person so I gave it a chance. It was a very difficult relationship for me. It has gotten harder during our break because I can't read him and he is hot and cold and we don't communicate. I’ve been wanting to get back together with him but I feel used and that he never even liked me. It feels like a one sided relationship.
I enjoy music and art a lot. I’m not good at it but I love them. There are two guy friends in our music/ friend group who used to or still might have feelings for me. One though started dating recently. But they both stopped talking to me once they found out I was dating the guy / “ex” (there hasn’t been closure of our breakup but I’ve been slowly backing away and have stopped communicating with him). They would still keep in contact with the man I dated though.
I think the guy friends found out that I stopped seeing him so they recently contacted me again to invite me to a small open mic to perform. I was very happy because I felt like the man I was dating isolated me from my friends and I haven’t been able to pursue art and music while I was dating him and during our break. I lost myself in the relationship and have become very depressed. I used to be more confident and joyful. His criticisms and judgements really made me insecure of myself. I was always afraid to express how I feel and even until now, I haven’t been able to express my emotions to him.
But the man I dated has also been invited to this open mic. It’s going to be a smaller group event and then later this year there is going to be a bigger one held. He will also be attending and performing at that one too. Both events are being hosted by one of my guy friends. The man I dated is very talented, more so than me. He gets invited to almost every open mic in our community and is connected to many other music groups. I’m not as talented and I’m only associated with one music group. I’m not sure if I get invited to perform because the guy friends are the ones hosting and maybe they’re only inviting me to perform because they like me, not because I’m actually good at music. I have been told from others / audience though that they enjoy my performances and at each new open mic, I’m told that I have gotten better and my voice is good.
My question is should I go to this smaller open mic and perform? I love performing. I plan to attend the bigger one later this year because there will be a bigger crowd and I won’t have to feel or be close to the man I dated, his presence. But I miss doing music and showcasing my art. I'm also not good at doing things by myself. I crave social interaction and need to be around others. I feel down when I isolate myself too much. I also want to attend open mics so I can see other people perform and get a better idea on how I can improve my music and art. I’m just nervous because the man I dated will be there too, the group will be small, and I believe there are 2 other narcissists attending and performing at this event too. I get self conscious, insecure, and am scared of their judgments. I don’t know how to handle this situation and future situations. Do I avoid this open mic and other open mics I know that narcissists will attend? But they will be at most open mics because they’re very talented. There is one other one I know but it’s run by a female narcissist, there is a group of girls who are the core of that music group, and they are not nice to me nor do they ever invite me. But they are very well known in the community and they are very talented. It’s hard because I sometimes read online to avoid a narcissist. That’s the best way to handle it or to try to quit a job, look for a new one if you have a narcissistic coworker or boss. But I don’t know how to pursue my dreams and likes by always having to avoiding them? I feel like everywhere we go especially nowadays, there will always be one narcissist. I can’t just quit my job or stop attending open mics every time, do I? It’s exhausting to move around, trying to get away from narcissists and then having to start all over again. The next new town, friend group, or music group will also have their own narcissists too, won’t they? How do I get by, make connections, improve my talents without making myself sick and depressed over narcissistic people? I can be sensitive and sometimes if a narcissist bulldozes me or says a harsh word, it can send me to bed for days. I will cry a lot too and I’m just so tired of it. But I don’t want to become hopeless.
I also have a hard time making genuine female friends. There is a new female that joined our friend / music group about a year ago and we’ve become very close. She is also 27 years old, same age as me. We started dating our boyfriends around the same time and we were very supportive of one another emotionally with personal problems and relationship problems. She has said that we will be friends for life which I have greatly appreciated. She knows of the man I dated because she was dating one of his best friends who is 30 years old whereas the man I dated is in his 40s.
When my female friend broke up with her boyfriend, she was emotionally devastated and I was wholeheartedly supportive of her. As she was explaining to me about her breakup, I started recognizing all the red flags I’ve been brushing off and numbing out with the man I was dating. Soon after, I decided to start distancing myself from him because it was becoming very unhealthy for me. And I realized why I was so stressed, depressed and losing so much weight because of me constantly overthinking about our relationship and how to win over his attention / affection because he started giving his attention to another woman in front of me during our break. Was I wrong to have felt hurt or was too sensitive that this was happening even though we weren’t dating but agreed to take a pause in our relationship?
When I tried explaining to my female friend what was happening in our relationship, she took sides with him. Although she kept saying she’s not taking sides with him, she said she was trying to give me the logical reasoning to his actions which she understood why he would act the way he would because I was at fault in her opinion.. which made feel a bit uneasy and tense.
When she was going through her breakup, I was very upset with how her ex was treating her and her other supportive girlfriends were upset with him too because he really didn’t treat her right. And she was so grateful to us for our support and expressed it. Then when she would talk about her breakup again with me, she switched and got upset that we were taking sides with her and being upset with her ex. She started defending him saying he’s not a bad guy and it doesn’t make her feel better when we talk about him negatively. So I got confused but I just assumed she was moody and didn’t want to be emotional about the break up.
She also said something weird or at least my gut / intuition felt weird about a comment she made - she said that one of her friends told her that she should date an older man next time because they may have the mature minds to handle her which she laughed and agreed with.. But I kind of sensed that maybe she might be interested in the man I dated because he is older and she’s been more neutral than supportive with my and the man I dated, our fading relationship. She has been explaining to me about his side of thinking when she doesn’t know him as well as I do and I’ve seen darker parts of him that I've been trying to explain to her but she’s not acknowledging or believes in what I am saying. She has only made one negative comment about him that she thinks and has observed that he likes attention, that’s it.
I warned her about how some but not all older men can be a bit controlling or take advantage. But in the end, age shouldn’t matter, the man should be good and mature. And she replied shortly, “Oh I’m not talking about wanting older men in their 40s and 50s. I’m talking about men in their 30s” which I got confused because the man she dated was in his 30s..? I didn’t say anything. I’ve stopped talking about him to her because I'm not feeling good about the whole thing. I also think it just won’t do any good to keep talking about him to her. It doesn’t go anywhere and I don’t want our friendship to get uncomfortable. But am I sensing things wrong? Am I being too sensitive? Am I making a bigger deal than it should be? I would really appreciate outside perspective on this whole situation and how I can go about it.

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've grown so tired of MV's empty platitudes now that they're becoming more and more frequent and carried out by their "CEO" (bella) who is trying to become the spokeswoman/face of the company.
I would like to preface this by saying that I do very well on MV and it is actually my biggest source of income. A few months ago my rank was up to 284 (now it's around 590-ish). I haven't had what I would consider to be serious problems, but there are so many smaller issues that THAT in itself has become an issue, combined with this new brand direction they're trying to create.
*It appears that MV is trying to capitalize on a massive surge of new creators (not users) coming to the site. Their "CEO" is doing this by proclaiming herself and MV to be champions of SWers (or literal SAVIORS of SWers). On and on she tweets about how she cares and supports, and blah blah blah. She proclaims to interact with HUNDREDS of SWers daily on Twitter (but she also had to announce she's leaving twitter because it's unfair to SWers?) I don't know what she considers "interacting" but she wouldn't respond to any of my comments---like when I inquired about what major Social Media Platform is better for SWers, because I constantly get flagged on IG and banned on TikTok, but I can post literal porn on Twitter---that porn being directly tweeted on my behalf by ManyVids after video sales, mind you.
**The following day, again posting about how supportive she and MV are to creators, she boasted about how she was giving away $1,900 to creators on the site, via $100 tips. Well, that's not exactly accurate; It's very misleading. It required a creator to buy a piece of art from her store first and then she would in turn give that creator a $100 tip. I don't know how much all the art pieces were going for, but she posted a screenshot of her sales (you can verify for yourself on her Twitter) which showed how much she was getting for them---which indicates most of the items being sold were between $25-75. Now, keep in mind, when you receive a tip, you only get 80% of that tip, so you'd only be getting $80. And that other $20 is going right back to MV/Her. So if you spent $75 on a piece of her art and got $80 in return, you're up $5. And whatever, that's fine. You got paid $5....but that is a far cry from the $100 (or $1900) she is making it seem like she's just handing out. Plus, all those sales boost her store/profile and creates more promo for her via Twitter and MV's own algorithms. So she pays $5 for some good promo and she's Mother Theresa. Herein lies the problem: I do believe that she and MV at large actually think the creators on the site are stupid. This is most evidenced by the constant, never-ending deluge of CONTESTS.
These contests are an absolute scam. At face value they seem like a good idea, then after you've participated in two or three, you can see them for what they really are: a cash grab for MV. I implore everyone to stop participating in these contests because you are DEVALUING yourself and all SWers by doing so.
You only keep 60% of your video sales on MV. Read that again if you need to. I see a lot of people complaining about OF only letting you keep 80% of sales---MV takes twice as much money away from creators as OF. Is this how they show that they care about SWers? If that isn't bad enough, during these contests they encourage creators to cut deals and offer people even LOWER prices and bundle deals. That is adding insult to injury. They have told me the rationale behind this is because "it puts you in front of customers who otherwise wouldn't see you or maybe wouldn't normally buy something." Bullshit. That is purely anecdotal. There is zero evidence to support this claim.
These contests are presented to creators under the guise that they have a chance of winning anywhere from $500 to $5,000 depending on how they place and how big the contest is. There's usually around 1,000-1,200 people who participate in each contest now. I'm assuming most people here are familiar with the contests and that it's based on the amount of votes a person receives; votes can be purchased by fans/buyers usually in return for videos or store items. This creates a competitive atmosphere where SWers seem pretty desperate to get votes. I've seen girls selling vid bundles with like 100+ vids, all between 6-20 min long, solo, B/G, etc., and list it at a price where after MV takes their %, the SWer is getting an average of $0.68 cents per video. That is fucking insane and sad. I've seen people offer 20 min custom vids for like $40-50 (so they'd take home $30-40) and it's just like....why? Why are you doing this? And how is anyone supposed to compete with that? It's getting worse and worse because there are MORE and MORE creators flocking to MV meaning they have to sell more and more to even be competitive. But that's the real kicker: They were never going to win anyway. Look at all the contests....why do the same people ALWAYS finish in the top 5? How is that possible? Month after month, week after week, contest after contest...always PeachySkye, always Lil' Canadian Girl, always JessiHeat....very interesting. Especially given their low follower counts on social media platforms.
Did you know you can buy your own votes on these contests? Did you know that with only like $100 in paid votes you'll probably be within the top 90 and on the first page of contestant entrants. Did you know that if you did the math and you bought $1,000 worth of votes you'd probably be in the top 10; another $1,000 and you're pretty certainly in the top 5. OH--and you get 60% of that right back in your pocket. So if you spent $3,000 on votes and you won first place which is $5,000... you'd get $1,800 of that back--so it would cost you $1,200...but you won $5,000, so it was a net gain of $3,800 and a lot of promo for yourself. I'm not supposed to tell you any of that--about how unbelievably flawed these contests are and if you're smart enough to figure that out on your own you could easily use this method to win these contests without having to do anything. Don't believe me? Ask MV support for yourself.
I had an issue with a stalker who would not leave me alone on MV and would (and still does) continually make new user accounts and follow me. I emailed MV support six times over the course of three months about this before giving up. I asked: Why can't MV require users to provide a name/email address and credit card info to create an account like OF does? That way it's at least a lot harder and slower to keep generating accounts. They didn't want to talk about that and it's not on their list of updates anytime soon. So I asked: Is it not a violation of your TOS to create multiple user accounts? They said no, it is not. So I asked: Then am I allowed to create thousands of throwaway accounts to vote for myself (one free vote a day per account) in these contests and ensure myself a top 5 spot every time since it's not a violation of your TOS to have multiple user accounts? To which they responded: WELL, if you did that for that sole purpose of winning a contest then we would have to ban your account(s).
So there you have it: It's OK to create multiple user accounts to harass SWers on ManyVids; it's NOT OK to create multiple user accounts to vote for yourself in contests. And this is how MV cares about SWers.
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**In part II (which I'll probably never actually get to) I'll talk about how the website itself is just garbage and barely functional and the great responses I've gotten from MV about how to fix the issues on THEIR END.
Hey, did you also know that you can make up to $50,000/mo on MV? Assuming that means gross sales, not net, that equates to MV earning $10-20,000 off just the top creator alone! Wow that's a lot! But they can't hire a web designer or coder to make the functional? So weird, right?!

Skip to the Last part for 2023 specifics reading everything would really enlighten you tho.
Location and Alliances

• Senegal is located in West Africa bordering Guinea, Mali, Mauritania, Bissau Guinea and Gambia. Senegal is also part of ECOWAS ( Economic Community of West African States) and AU (African Union). ECOWAS has an economic centric objective and AU is justice and development of Africa focused.
• Every single one of the nations that border Senegal has had a military coup in its history except Senegal. Every attempt in Senegal failed and Senegal was regarded until today as a model of democracy.

French Control / Neocolonialism
Senegal was a well ruled country despite its politics being mainly ruled by France from the shadow, France hold the reserve of CFA Francs currency and print it for 15 countries. 15 sovereign nations are entirely dependent on France's currency. France also control most of their seaports and has priority in every new market offering with mandatory acceptance for these nations. Despite its many resources Senegal is a very poor country it has gold, zircon, lots of sea territory for fishing, clay and many more industry needed resources and forestry that I can adequately explain. France also has military bases in most of these countries until recently they've been kicked out by Burkina and Mali. Recently lots of Gas and Oil sources have been found in Senegal and that could change the lives of millions of Senegalese citizen (keep that in mind as you read)

Abdoulaye Wade, Macky Sall, Dirty Politics and Spiraling Debt

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• Macky Sall is the 4TH president of Senegal, elected in 2012. Before him It was Abdoulaye Wade who was president since the year 2000. It's mainly under Abdoulaye Wade that the country started changing landscape major road construction, more and more building and a decade long plan to move the airport to a less cramped space thus giving us the AIBD Airport replacing LSS airport. A new agriculture program GOANA and many more projects.
• But it's also under Wade that nepotism got higher in his government were new ministry official position created for his "friends" in ridiculous position. A government in which Macky Sall took part and eventually became prime minister.
• With the rising nepotism the first embezzlement campaign started with ministers and deputies having safes filled with billions of cfa. For context back in 2007 a billion wasn't an imaginable number it had just became mainstream. It first rise with their own son stealing from them, then their sons and daughters traveling all over the word as new millionaires. For context their parents were poor prior to being in the government. Then arrest for drug usages, luxury car crashes. In a blink of an eye rose a new wave of billionaires and families that were above the law. Coincidentally the economic crisis of 2007 made the population even poorer in comparison.
• Politics mixing with religious figures, violence at political rallies and the birth of "nervis" basically political henchmen paid to beat opponents or whoever stand in their way and the police ignored them since they were being paid by people that were very high in the political ladder (ministers, friends of the president etc....)

3rd Mandate, Abdoulaye Wade vs The People (Macky Sall and Youssou Ndour incl.)

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• In 2011, at the end of his 2nd mandate Abdoulaye Wade pushed for a new legislation that would make him able to push for a 3rd mandate and have his good-for-nothing son as vice-president a novelty that the people didn't welcome at all. His former Prime Minister Macky Sall and a lot of opposition political parties and social justice movements, and rappers and Youssou NDOUR (famous singer) banding together and protesting initially peacefully and gradually throwing rocks at the FDS (Forces of Security, police and Constables)

Link Archive Protest Youtube: https://youtu.be/i224i8CTB64
Link Archive Macky Sall Coallition : https://youtu.be/P_wigR7JFYY

• Macky Sall was appointed leader of the movement, and toured Senegal to present his ideas. Despite his opposition to Wade he never suffered persecution or attacks by police forces or any other charges by the justice system. However Dirty Politics was Macky Sall never physically suffered and had his constitutional rights respected. [Remember This it's relevant in 2023]
• Occasionally he would be pelted with pebbles by some people that were against his ideas but never by the police or any other FDS.
• Ultimately Abdoulaye Wade would give up and lose the election and leave graciously without anything in fact the police forces allowed the protesters to walk freely up to the gates of the Palais Presidentiel.

Hopes, Justice, Regrets and Embezzlement of Funds

• In Macky Sall, Senegalese people had high hopes, not so charismatic a leader he had a humble upbringing which inspired hope. He had worked under the previous govt and had extensive knowledge of the populations suffering, the poverty and nepotism.
• He would go on to track the people that embezzled funds under Wade's presidency : La traque aux biens mal-acquis which recovered 200 Billions of CFA Francs (305 millions euros) in 2012 according to Macky Sall's prime minister of the time Aminata Toure

Dynasty Faye-Sall, War of Gains and Scandalous Deals (Petro Tim Oil & Gas)

Then slowely but crescendo new names started popping in the government, branded as the FAYE-SALL dynasty : Macky Sall, his wife Marieme Faye and the in laws Aliou Sall and Mansour Faye.

• A war of opportunities between Aliou Sall, brother of Macky Sall and Marieme Faye, the first lady.
• Petro Tim $10 Billion Scandal Sunu 400,000
• Aliou Sall would make the news for signing scandalous deals mainly the Petro-Tim Scandal for embezzling 10 billion dollars (from here on out we will be talking in dollars because the amounts are ridiculously high). He would be accused of corruption, fraud, embezzlement, money laundering and criminal association. A report by BBC and Africa Eye states that Alious Sall had also been by Petro Tim through a fictive company that he owned.
• In a statement**, Ousmane Sonko called the senegalese youth to demostrate against these scandals until appropriate measures are taken**. Another revelation of the report was the takeover of Franck Timis' group's stake in 2017 by British Company BP. Timis Corp is a firm run by Romanian-Australian tycoon Frank Timis. According to the BBC report BP had agreed to pay Timis $10 billion in royalty payments for its stake in the two blocks. Senegal's offshore oil and gas reserve have the potentiak to transform the country when they begin flowing in the next decade with volumes expected to rival some of the region's biggest producer.
• A campaign started online in which every citizen claim they are entitled to at least 400,000 CFA ($653 usd) from each of the payment that Aliou Sall received with the catchphrase << sunu 400,000>>
• Despite all of that, the judge would squash the procedure rather quickly, it helps to have your brother as president.
• Mansour Faye, The Arrogant Baron (SDE - SEN'EAU / COVID 19 Funds)
• Mansour Faye has a reputation of being a vindictive and arrogant public figure. He will first be remembered for signing a contract for water distribution through SEN'EAU with french company Group Suez killing in the process local company Sénégalaise Des Eaux (SDE) a company that oversaw the water distribution for decades.
• Mansour FAYE is also mentioned in the Cour des Comptes report regarding the misuse and embezzlement of the Covid 19 relief funds. The covid 19 relief funds was of 1000 billion CFA FRANC (over $1.6 billion USD)
• Mansour Faye's daughter studied in the US and came back portrayed as a model for the youth with her ranch and agribusiness which is an insult to the senegalese citizen who can't even afford school fees in some part their own country let alone own land and get a degree in the US. A nepobaby fed with nepotrustfunds and nepoland to build her nepomoney paid business. She said : << you shouldn't be afraid of failure>> easy to say with billions in the bank.

See here the BBC documentary that angered the Senegalese citizens: https://youtu.be/1TAN6PsxKAc

• Mansour Faye will also have some of the harshest comment when several fatal car crash happened in early 2023 in which 63 people died in 8 days. In light of the lack of regulation, the state of the roads and the laissez-aller in the transportation industry, many asked for his resignation in which he would coldly reply : << To the people expecting my resignation, they will need more stamina>>

See video here: https://youtu.be/eS8UV8EtykQ

• Which only proves their lack of empathy towards the citizens they are supposed to serve. One thing that is very common with the entire dynasty Faye-Sall is the disdain, and hatred toward the suffering and needs of the senegalese citizens.
• When people asked in 2021 for better roads and that the tollgate highway was expensive. President Macky Sall replied that: <<It is what is. If you want to drive on fancy road with no plot holes you pay and you use the tollgate highway. But we have an alternative which is the RN1 (National Road)>>

see video here: https://youtu.be/r4DHowh8KLo

• And I can't think of the countless lawsuits for defamation against anybody that tried to expose their true natures. Mansour Faye is very fond of lawsuits and has had a few in his arrogance and power he seems out of touch with reality.
• Whenever addressing the nation he would do it in a patronizing and arrogant way, so much so some people do not listen and would just read the ministry's tweets.

The others (Moustapha Niasse, Youssou Ndour, Mame Mbaye Niang...)

• As mentionned earlier Youssou Ndour was part of the coalition and protesting alongside Macky Sall against the 3rd mandate of Abdoulaye Wade. Youssou Ndour was in fact a candidate for the election but his candidacy was invalidated because his taxes. Youssou Ndour was not a law abiding tax paying citizens according to reports of that era.
• Taxes that he never proved having paid, he would later join Macky Sall's government as Minister-Adviser. Yet another nepo-position in which he will bask in even more riches and allegedly not paying his taxes.
• The most notable thing about him is how loud his silence is regarding every protest against the current regime, in 2021 and 2023.
• You can see him in this video actively protesting in 2011 along with the M23 movement: https://youtu.be/H0hZhNKLUXg
• Moustapha Niasse, the political dinosaur born in 1939 he has been invested in politics as early as 1970 and has been part of every government since. Nothing notable about him beside him clinging to a hope of becoming president he has always been at side of the regime even when the regime is unjust and flat-out wrong. Nothing to say beside good riddance in September 2022 his term as President of Congress ended. He will be remembered for turning the Congress into a shitshow where legislation from Macky Sall passed as will.
• Mame Mbaye Niang the good-for-nothing turned billionaire he was a protestor in 2011 you can see him here protesting at the gate of congress (the coward in brown shirt and jeans who fled when the cop came close) : https://youtu.be/nklxXTZF_no
• A report by the IGF (General Inspection of Finances) revealed how funds have been embezzled once again by a small group of political figure in which we count Mame Mbaye Niang (then minister of Youth, Employment and Infrastructure) and his close friend Ibrahima Cisse; The funds amount to over $800,000 USD (517,864,401 CFA Francs) for the PRODAC project which earned him the nickname Mbaye Prodac. A project that should have created 180 000 jobs provided only 1500 between 2014 and 2018. Coincidentally Mame Mbaye Niang became a billionaire in the same period.
• Ousmane Sonko would go on to make that report public by accusing Mame Mbaye Niang of stealing from the State and the citizen. A deficit of 178,500 jobs from the PRODAC project is beyond criminal knowing that Unemployement Rate of the active population in 2018 was of 14,3% according to the National Statistics Agency (ANSD)

The Claws of France gripping harder

• Between 2012 and 2023, the arrival of French companies surged to a new high with Auchan and Carrefour competing directly with local businesses at lower prices due to allegedly lesser taxes, SEN'EAU killing SDE for water distribution.
• Major civil engineering projects being given to french companies such as Eiffage. In fact EIFFAGE, ALSTOM, SYSTRA and SNCF together built the TER (Train Express Regional) an airport rail link of only 36km for the first part already built for the price of over $1 billion USD (656 billions CFA) a project the government is really proud of.
• The project is putting Senegal in even greater debt since Senegal only funded the project with 142.5 billion cfa and 3 loans from La Banque Islamique de Développement (196 billion CFA), l'Agence Française de développement et le trésor français (196.5 billion CFA) and la Banque Africaine de Développement (120 billion CFA)

Harder Living Conditions

• With inflation, soaring prices of virtually everything such as housing, house essentials, food, transportation and gas...
• Under equipped school with huts as classrooms in some remote region of Senegal Abris Provisoire au Sénégal
• The NGO workers are gentrifying Dakar these people who are supposed to work socially on topics of poverty, are the one actually escaping poverty they are in Dakar partying spending lots of money in places raising significantly the cost of leaving.
• Under equipped hospitals with aging/failing equipment as in Kedougo where a small outpost with barely nothing it's not covid 19 that kills people rarther illnesses that can easily be cured in bigger cities such as malaria, transport of patients is also a huge challenge with patient being transported to bigger hospitals 200 or 300km away with no ambulance rather horse-drawn carts. The same problem in several regions of Senegal. In contrast, the political figures leaving the country every now and then to get medical treatment in France or the US. A symbol of their own failure in building anything important in this country.

The Rise of Ousmane Sonko

• Ousmane Sonko is a former Chief Tax Inspector in Senegal and advocate for reformation of the Senegalese Tax System. He was fired from his position as Chief Tax Inspector for being a whistleblower in many cases of fund embezzlement of High Profile Politicians (Aliou Sall, Mame Mbaye Niang...)
• He would go on to engage in politics and became the youngest candidate to run in 2019 at 44 years old. He rose to fame in politics among the youth due to his credentials as chief tax officer and the overall ethic in his work as mentioned by many of his former colleagues. A man who turned down bribes from the biggest companies in the countries and focused on his duty. The narrative is beautiful and confirmed itself as years passed and people learned more about him. He finished 3rd in 2019 as a newbie in politics.
• An even bigger achievement when you learn about the vote manipulation in the 2019 elections as exposed in Story Killers with the employment of Team Jorge a disinformation for hire company. Ousmane Sonko was victim of gigantic smear campaign with fake documents and false claims.
• See the documentary titled : #StoryKillers: A deep dive into 'Team Jorge', the disinformation mercenaries operating worldwide
• With Ousmane Sonko rising to be the candidates of the youth (over Half of the senegalese population) several attempt at destroying his reputation took place, he would be labeled a liar until the LGE, IGF and BBC report are published.
• Ousmane Sonko became Congressman made fierce speeches in which he called out the disrespect towards Senegalese citizens by which the congress dealt with important matters. Congress was a place of chit-chat and arguments where the political affiliation was the only thing that mattered to any of the parties involved and occasionally throwing hands (fighting)
• He also authored a book called Solutions in which he advances many ideas to push this country forward, economically and socially with an emphasis on education, economy, health and employment.
• Mame Mbaye Niang would accuse him of defamation in the PRODAC case;
• He also exposed the excessive cost of the TER Project.

Macky Sall's 3rd Mandate, Sonko-Adji Sarr, 2021 Protests

• Macky Sall' 3rd Mandate
• Macky Sall is ineligible to a 3rd successive term as stated in the Article 27 of the constitution of Senegal "Nul ne peut faire plus de 2 mandat consécutifs"
• Macky Sall served a 1st term of 7 years from 2012 to 2019 but in 2016 a referendum took place in which the presidential term would go down from 7 to 5 years. Taking effect after his first term in case he get re-elected.
• Having nearly served his 2nd Term 2019 - 2024 (we are in 2023) he eluded a 3rd term trying to loophole his way into a 3rd term using the Article 27 claiming that it's his first mandate of 5 years. Which is wrong the Article 27 existed way before the 2016 referendum and it is explicitly states that no-one can do 2 more than 2 successive term.
• Curfew and Police Brutality
• In 2020 mask mandate is effective and a curfew is established, which made life very difficult for workers who had to commute. The police officers used extreme violence to enforce it. Beating people who were out at curfew with sticks making them crawl on the floor. While the population suffered inside, the rich politicians and their family hosted private parties outside
• When the first Vaccines arrived in Senegal, the first Lady Marieme Faye hosted a private vaccination party at her residence with no respect of masks or crowd control this angered people
• That was the last straw people started burning tires and protesting for the removal of this stupid curfew which they are the only one to suffer from
• Additional context: In Senegal a lot of houses don't cook dinner they buy porridge to local (diaykatou fondé/thiéré/thiakri) that sell at night from 8pm to 12pm. These cheap porridge is what feed lots of people in poor neighbourhood a bowl filled with nourishing food for 100 to 200f cfa. Some houses are overcrowded with over 20 individuals in a 2 story building during summer these people stay outside with their friends and relatives there is a sense of community and togetherness. They only leave for bedtime. The houses cramped and it gets really hot in the summer (up to 35° c / 95°F)
• Sonko-Adji Sarr
• In 2020, during the Covid 19 pandemic, Ousmane Sonko is accused at first of Rape with Threats at gunpoint by a worker at a massaging place he is a customer of. He says it's a conspiracy to make him ineligible for the 2024 elections in which Macky Sall want to be part of.
• Then discrepancies started growing, the medical examination disproved any trace of sexual violence, the officer (Captain Touré) to which the complaint was filed smelled a political conspiracy and fled. Adji Sarr the alleged victim is first believed by a portion of the population but as she goes from reporter to reporter saying different things here and there the growing sentiment of empathy turned to disdain because to many she was definitely lying.
• The case would be ongoing for 2 years 2020 to 2023 and Sonko would be proven non guilty on the counts of Rape and Death Threats since no proof or witness were presented. Everybody that went on to speak would disprove in a way or another the claims of Adji Sarr. The medical official, the officer and her coworkers, boss and his husband. BUT despite all of this Ousmane Sonko is sentenced to 2 years of prison for "corruption of youth".
• Throughout the case, Ousmane Sonko has been held at home by the police not letting him go out, he was kidnapped twice by the police while he was touring the country and forcefully taken home and every supporter of Ousmane Sonko has been labelled a terrorist or an MFDC member.( A very dangerous claim that could turn this conflict into an ethnic war. The southern people are remarquable people and the stigma of separatism they are labeled with could be very dangerous.)
• Protest erupted in march 2021 which beyond Sonko's mistreatment was a protest for everything that is wrong in the country like the Gilets Jaune in France. The police started shooting live rounds, one victim in particular Cheikh Wade is shot in the while he waved his senegalese flag by a police officer in Parcelles Assainies (Dakar) the 2 day protest would make 14 victims, 14 civilians killed.
• Mansour Faye would go on to declare that "Occult forces" are responsible of the 14 dead civilians.

Amnesty International Article : https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2022/03/senegal-one-year-after-march-2021-families-demand-justice

2023 Protests

After sentencing Ousmane Sonko to 2 years of prison, he is at first kidnapped while he travelled back home from Ziguinchor occasionally touring the country ,held at home and the people are out protesting to end this masquerade, for Macky Sall to either leave Sonko alone and finish his 2nd term or to leave the country altogether.
There's already 600 political prisoners before the protest.
The police shot live rounds, beat up and runned over several people.
And a new type of tear cas that can blow your limbs.
The people are fighting for a better future. Macky Sall doesn't care about Senegalese people. Senegalese so desperate for a better future that many died at sea on shipwrecks trying to reach europe on rafts or canoes.
In 2019, 210 senegalese people died in the mediteranée trying to reach europe because there's nothing left of hope of a better future in thish country, in novembre 2020, 414 senegalese people died at sea trying to ge to europe according to IOM
The 2023 protest showed an escalation of violence from the police, the constables and the 'nervis' these paid militias that have gone increasingly violent with machetes and semi automatic rifles and handguns. Fighting along side the police they have killed 28 people officially many were shot.
The Freedom to tour the country that Macky Sall was offered by Abdoulaye Wade is what Macky Sall is denying Ousmane Sonko.
The 3rd mandate that Macky Sall thought for is what he is denying us all.
Abdoulaye Wade never asked for the police to shoot at civilians, under his presidency killing in broad daylight wasn't a thing, he may have been a bad tyrant but Macky Sall infinitely a hating arrogant good for nothing that is acclaimed as Political Genius a lapdog if anything.
A warzone atmosphere against unarmed civilians.
The government issued an order for the internet to be cut off
Everybody is using vpns to keep the outside informed. Today, June 4th the mobile data were cut off only wifi network worked in order to keep protesters at home.
A terrible rumour that spent chills down my spine earlier today a senegalese citizen called on live tv saying he saw DEAD BODIES IN REFRIGERATED TRUCKSS BEING THROWN AT SEA near the Diamalaye Beach. The senegalese citizens are enquiring about it. Some people have confirmed through text but I am yet to believe it until photo or video proof is shown. We are talking about mass execution I will not believe it until I see proof of it.
This a very long and tedious thing to write and I'm doing it because I am afraid the Senegalese people will be cut off from the world and die in the dark.
The sound of an entire nations going silent is something I have witnessed once and I hope I never do.
ECOWAS took a neutral stance may the wrath of God be upon them.
For once in my lifetime I wish for Military Coup if it means the killers will be stopped. Please save the longest lasting WEST African democracy.
Please Spread the word under #FreeSenegal. A senegalese fearing for his freedom.

I recently came across a post about an expat who participated in a night wedding. After reading the accounts I began to do research on my own. Not because I believe in any of that stuff. I'm a magician after all. Illusion is my bread and butter. And I can detect trickery better than most. Which in my line of work has its benefits. But old traditions are the best places to pick up new techniques. Old ways that are new to others that delight and even scare people. Because, if I can make them afraid. Make them look away. For even a second. I can pull off some astounding magic.
My gig at the cruise line was coming to an end as we neared the port of Shanghai. And for my last several shows, where I'd normally start to include my greatest tricks in order to leave a lasting impression. I developed a new act that I called "The Sneaky Bride", it involved a mannequin in a wedding dress, a beautiful train, veil, flowers on the ground - the whole nine yards some would say. The trick was that the bride would sneak bites as my assistants who are dressed as servers pass by with their trays.
I begin the trick by placing a mannequin center stage for all to see so that they know it's a dummy. I show them there are no holes, and the entire thing is solid. Then we dress it up and set the stage for a wedding. And with a bit of lighting, another assistant switches places with the mannequin and is being fed under the veil. We later changed it to more slight of hand techniques as the assistant complained she wasn't able to chew fast enough as the items of course have to get larger and larger for comedic effect as the guests were wowed by the disappearing act as the fake wedding progressed.
At the end we even invited the unmarried men up to the stage and then threw out a fake bouquet, and watched them clamber over each other in good fun to catch it. The act was an instant hit and had the crowd roaring every night. Which was why I decided to take a firsthand look at the original, and see if there were any other staging techniques I could learn from this old tradition.
With some help from Bing and its ChatGPT features I was able to get a relatively good idea of where it was practiced. So I booked the next flight out to begin my quest for a real night wedding.
Upon arrival at my hotel, I asked the concierge for information about the local practice.
"Yes. I know of this one. We practice it often for children who were taken too early."
"But they are all scams?"
The concierge smiled, "In most cases the pouches mean no harm, and they're simply for families who want to provide peace for themselves and to complete a lasting tradition. Sometimes the dowries are quite lucrative as well, and it is the families who are scammed by those who go and collect these ghost wives as concubines. We call it a blue procession for the trail of ghosts the husband leaves behind wherever he goes." He leans in, "But between you and me? They're mostly all scams."
I laughed, and I can't stress this next part enough, tip your concierge! Which I did. "Thank you, and also. Do you know where I could get a good start on finding more information about these ghost dowries? Or even find one of these pouches myself?"
"The temple down this first street to the left, about half a kilometer, would be a good place to start. But finding a pouch is a bit more difficult as they pop up sporadically. However, if traditions are to be believed it is the pouch who chooses the spouse."
I thanked him again and began to make my way through the early morning rush toward the temple. The streets were lined with open markets full of food from local farmers, which were common in the morning in this part of the world. They would disappear before the afternoon and then return again to sell wares at night when it was cooler. It made the city feel as if it were breathing as the locals rose and ebbed outside with day and night.
On my way, I searched the ground and around alleys for loose pouches. But I had no such luck by the time I arrived at the temple. Large red pillars that were thicker than any tree I've personally had the pleasure of meeting held up the high ceiling. Inside, the locals were already starting to disperse as the work hours were amongst us. Which left me nearly alone in this temple at about 8:00 in the morning.
A monk or priest was kneeling on a mat in front of a wooden shrine, throwing pieces of wood in the shape of dumplings on the floor. I waited patiently for him to finish. Taking in the sights and the delicate features of the temple. When he rose I approached him.
"You don't speak English by any chance do you?"
He smiled.
"What about the middle tongue?" I asked in Mandarin.
"Oh," he seemed surprised. "Yes. How may I be of assistance?"
"What were you doing just now?"
He held out his hand and showed me two red wooden pieces that were, with closer inspection, in the shape of moons. "Jiaobei," he told me. "We use these to seek divine guidance."
"How does it work?"
The monk shows me the two sides, one was smooth and flat, the other side rounded. "You ask a question and then throw it on the ground. One block flat and one block round, means yes. Both blocks showing round means no. Or depending on the question. Anger from the Gods. Or crying in sadness as it is commonly known. And finally, both blocks showing flat means laughter. Which could mean a number of things." He hands them to me, "You throw it three times to get a better answer."
"I'm guessing if it's the same all three times, the answer is definitive?"
The monk nodded.
"Will I..."
"Ah ah ah, in silence."
I didn't want my first question to be too convoluted or difficult. So I kept it simple and asked if I was a good magician. Then I threw the Jiaobei on the floor. It clattered and rolled on its rounded back, showing two flat sides.
The monk smiled.
"That usually happens the first time anyone tries Jiaobei. But in my experience, it generally means you asked a pure question."
"What happens if I didn't ask a pure question and it came back as angry?"
"The gods will remember it. They will remember you."
"No bad first impression then huh," I whispered under my breath. "Okay. Do I need to throw it two more times or can I ask a different question?"
"You may ask a different question or throw it twice more."
"What is my name?" I threw it on the floor. And to my surprise, as the ends are pointed and difficult to balance, one of the damn things stood tall and erect.
The monk bowed to the pieces. "Truly you have been picked by the gods to be answered. Lijiao or a standing answer like this is uncommonly rare. The gods generally choose to laugh at a nonsensical question. And often get angry if you throw it two more times. And rarely do they ever answer ones asked aloud."
I bent forward, skeptical, though a temple this was, at how the thing worked. In my head I could only think that the switchboard guy was quick on his feet. But looking around I couldn't find any cameras. Though in this day an age, they're made smaller than a fly. So it was difficult to tell. I picked up the pieces, feeling for any sense of magnetism, but there were none.
I asked one last question before I left that day. I asked their gods, would I find the real deal? And I threw it on the ground three times. All three times it came up yes. But for two months I scoured the city, and the country side. And I did chance upon several pouches. Some were obviously scams as I watched each bag carefully before approaching. Especially noticeable are the ones in the city which would be laying on the sidewalk, filled with bills for people passing by. But I observed that if a local went to go pick it up, two or three men from around the corner would come and threaten him to put it back. But if a foreigner picked it up, an old man or woman would come and start calling them son before leading them away.
There were of course others that were genuinely following tradition. I chanced upon several of them and was married several times. But each one was playful almost. And performed by their parents in the day. Leaving me with several small bags of pocket change, a good dinner, as I went on my way.
During one of these fake night weddings I even saw a child playfully munching on a corn cob in the corner under one of the tables as I fed the effigy they constructed of my fake bride. Which was when I think I decided to call it quits. Believing that I'd never find the real deal. Although I did learn a lot as tradition can be translated by me into performance. Which helped me ground 'The Sneaky Bride' act further. All in all, this was time well spent.
My visa was coming to an end and I had mostly been enjoying the sights, the city, and their way of life. When on one the last day, as I was leaving from a faraway eatery that the concierge had recommended, that I saw a red pouch made of silk with a thick yarn around its throat, stuffed full of money. I looked around and didn't see a single person there, nothing except flat farmland and water gullies for miles.
Odd, I thought to myself, as it looked truly abandoned.
For a second I played with the idea of picking it up. Wondering if somehow a relative of the deceased would pop up magically next to me and I could change the world of magic by studying their technique. But I didn't want to spend my few hours chasing ghosts. I wanted to enjoy my time. So I kept walking.
I got back to the city and spent the remainder of my day eating and drinking, meeting new friends at the bar, newfound lads who I invited a hundred times to visit me in Melbourne one day. Who all agreed that if fate ever brought us back together we would drink until the sun rose. So yeah, I was fairly drunk when I got back to my hotel room, and didn't believe what I saw when I opened the door. It was a red pouch sitting on my coffee table.
"Someone's trying to play a trick on me," I mused. "They must have heard me talking at the bar." I circled the table studying the pouch. Any magician worth his smoke, likes a good bag. So there was no doubt to me that this was the same one I saw earlier. Which made me start putting two and two together. "It must be the concierge. He's the one who sent me out that far." I laughed and picked up the bag, even though I knew the rules. I opened it and thumbed through the bills. "It's much more than what I tipped him. Much more." Curious, I wondered what he would have done if I didn't return this to him. It must have been quite a few months worth of wages. I threw the bag up in the air and caught it as if I were juggling before I tossed it on my nightstand. "I'm going to let him sweat for a little bit and pretend I didn't find it tomorrow as I check out," I mused as I went to go take a shower.
I opened the door and felt the words stick to the roof of my mouth as the bag appeared on the counter next to the sink. I shot a glance back to the nightstand and indeed the bag I had just thrown on there was missing.
"This is a good fucking trick. That, or I'm drunker than I thought." I started questioning did I somehow fall asleep beforehand? Or walked into the bathroom and put it there as I mused my little scheme of making the concierge nervous at the lost pouch? Had I somehow in my drunken state done something without realizing it? No. That couldn't be it. I touched my chest to check my heart rate and put my fingers on my face. A bit flushed, but heart rate adequate. I was fine for the most part. Just drunk.
I looked at the pouch on the counter, and peered gingerly into the bathroom as if I've never stepped foot in one, before deciding to grab the bag and close the door. "Okay," I said loudly. "Whoever's doing this. Come on out." Of course no one appeared, not that I expected them to because the credo I lived by is that a good magician never reveals his trick.
"Okay, let's see how good you guys really are," I mused. Going over to my closet and placed the pouch on the shelf. Closing the door. Then I went back to the bathroom and opened the door. It was empty. I checked the nightstand drawer, mpty. I looked all over, and it was still mty. I breathed a sigh and went over to the closet door, "I guess you're just a bag after all." Except when I looked inside. MT. I couldn't find the bag behind any other nook or cranny. I know, I checked them all. And they were all .
I stumbled backwards and looked around, glancing at the ceiling corners in case someone had crawled up there. And even looked under the bed. But there was no one else here. I felt my chest tighten as I tried to make sense of what was happening. "Its got to be the walls I reasoned." And so for the next half hour I scoured the entire room with my hands, pushing, pressing, pulling anywhere and everywhere I could. Using all my years of experience to figure out what was going on. But there was nothing.
I couldn't stay in that room another minute so I rushed outside and nearly stepped on it! The bag! It was right at the foot of my doorstep.
My mind tried to wrap around how that was possible, "It's got to be a dupe. They've got more than one bag. I've been had, that has to be it. And the furniture inside, they have secret compartments. God, they really put a lot of effort into this," I laughed. "I have to know how this trick is done." So I opened the pouch and pulled out the note inside.
The notes generally contained their name, their current would-be age (she was 20 this year, older than most), what time they were born (8:07), a picture if they had one (she did), and how old they when they died (5). If the deceased were a bit older, perhaps a tidbit from their family is included about their personality. But most importantly, it always contained their address.
I looked at my watch, it was late and my flight was in the morning but perhaps I could still make it. So I gathered the rest of my things, my luggage, the mannequin for my act, and other bag of tricks in case I needed to go to the airport right after. "Come on," I yelled out loud to my pranksters. "Let's go see what other tricks you have up your sleeve."
I went down to the lobby and had the front desk call me a cab. I looked around for the concierge but he was nowhere to be found. So I left a note for him. And then left.
The cab drove until the city faded away. We were practically on the other side of the island by the time its tires skipped to a stop. I got out and knocked on the giant half circle doors of the address. I noticed that we were deep in the countryside. There were hardly any lights dotting the night.
I knocked several more times before I heard shuffling behind the door. And then it opened. An old man stood in front of me in his drawers.
"What do you want," he asked angrily. "Do you know what time it is?"
"I'm sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour. But," I pulled out the pouch. And his eyes widened up.
"Meju-eh. You're back." He looked at me up and down. "What are you supposed to be," he asked but then shook his head. "No, no. Come in. Come in, please."
"I don't have much time," I told him. "I have to leave in the morning."
"Sit, sit." He ushered me to a chair in the courtyard.
I placed the bag on the table next to it, "I have a flight in the morning, so if we're going to do this. We have to do it now."
Instead of fighting me, he nodded, "Yes. I agree. I don't have much time either. And Meju-eh is older than most ghost brides. The bull demon might not let her through his gets if she gets any older. And then she'll be a husbandless spinster for eternity." He ushered around, "We don't have many living relatives either. So it shouldn't be too troublesome to hurry this along." He called into the house and a young woman came out, "This is my granddaughter. Ah-ahn. Meju-eh's older sister. They were close as children."
Ah-ahn was quite beautiful. I almost couldn't take my eyes off of her.
"Go and start preparations and rouse anyone you can get a hold of. We must have the wedding tonight. Even if it isn't grand as I would like."
"Will we make it in time," I asked. "It's a lot of work for one person. Perhaps I could help?"
The old man nodded, "That's a good idea. But forgive me, I must retire for now. Or else have no energy for the wedding." He turned to his granddaughter, "Fetch me when the preparations are ready." As he left us alone in the courtyard.
"What can I do," I asked her.
"We're going to need flowers for decoration."
I pulled a rose out from behind her ear, "I happen to have a case of these on hand at all times." I put the flower in her hair.
She smiled, "Thank you."
"What else?"
"Um, we already have tables for family gatherings. There should be enough food in the freezers that we can just heat up. I need to call my aunt to come help. And wake up some of the kids. Also...we kind of need a statue of some sort, as a stand-in for my sister."
"Statue? I think I have just the thing."
Hours went by and it was the dead of the night, but watching all the people bustling around the courtyard, the kids in excited whispers, you'd never guess that all of us should have been sleeping. Soon the tables were set, the food was hot, even the decorations were strung, and I had procured my mannequin from my luggage and a few of the menfolk were putting it together inside the main living room.
Several times I found myself laughing and having a good time with the others, although chasing that hen made me look quite ridiculous, and several times I bumped into Ah-ahn and we would talk and exchange a few words. In the beginning she talked mostly about her sister. How she was troublesome as a child. Always hiding things. I told her about the pouch appearing and disappearing in my hotel. And we both had a good laugh. Eventually we talked about ourselves. I learned she wanted to get away from here, "To see the world," she told me. The more we talked the closer we got. I could feel it. Soon we were bumping into each other just to feel our bodies touch. But before anything else transpired the wedding preparations were complete.
The old man was retrieved from his bedroom and everyone gathered outside in the courtyard, looking into the main living room. There was a wooden shrine in the back of the room and the mannequin had been traditionally dressed. From an old box the grandfather retrieved several personal items that belonged to Meju. And I was then asked to enter the living room.
The grandfather said a few words, and then gave us his blessing. Ah-ahn handed me a bowl of sticky rice ball soup. I had been through this process before and knew what to do. I ate one of the pink balls and then went to go feed my new bride.
Now I've traveled with this mannequin for some time. Seen it at a dozen of my own shows. Slept with it in the room. Knew that it was in fact a dummy for all intents and purposes. However, as I started moving my spoon toward it. I swear I saw it's chest rise as if it were breathing.
I couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol ebbing away from earlier or a trick of the light. But even its shoulders looked softer than usual. My hand started shaking as it got closer to her mouth. It was like watching an out of body experience as the spoon inched under her veil. And then the CRUNCH. It scared the fucking shit out of me. I looked around hoping to see some kid in the corner playing a dumb joke. But there were none. And I didn't believe what I was seeing even as the veil started moving as her jaws chewed the sticky material back and forth.
"No way," I shook. "There's just no way." My hand was so close to the veil. "Oh God. Please. I have to know how this is done." I ripped off the veil.
Meju looked very much like her picture. But older. And then older. And older. As if her face was starting to rot away as it contorted. People behind me screamed. The lightbulbs we had strung popped. Kids were running around and the grandfather fell to the floor clutching his heart.
I backed away, the spoon clattering to the ground as I watched the mannequin crick and crack as its arms and legs bent in a tangled mess until it was walking on all fours!
The thing grabbed the bent down to the grandfather and started chewing!
I turned around and saw the other guests were piling out of the courtyard. The tables were upturned and only the dim crescent light of the moon bore down on us. Everyone was screaming trying to get out. I ran and bumped into Ah-ahn. She whirled terrified and then realized it was me. She yelled, "You never! Look at the bride before it's time!"
"I'm so sorry! I didn't know. I thought it was a trick!"
She grabbed her face, her nails leaving streaks behind as she clawed at her skin, "Now she's going to kill every living blood relative. And then you." Ah-ahn laughed manically. "She's going to torture you!"
The people kept pushing around us until we got separated. Her final words still ringing in my ears as I took to the dirt road outside and started running. I ran for nearly a mile before I spotted a cab sitting outside of someone's house. I banged on their door and then begged them to take me to the airport. Throwing at them all the money from the dowry.
When I arrived at the airport I hurried through the TSA. Relieved at the lights and normal looking people. I boarded my flight. Tapping my foot nervously the entire time, staring out the small squarish window as we prepared to take off. The sun was starting to rise as the engine roared. I took one last look at the island as we flew away. Still trying to catch my breath at what I had just caused.
My mind was reeling as I heard two knocking noises, they sounded oddly familiar, and for a second I thought that Meju had finished with her family and had somehow come boarded. But then I realized the noise was coming from my carry-on. I reached inside and pulled out two red shaped crescents that the Monk at the temple had given to me. And I realized that if I ever needed any form of divine guidance this was it.
So right there in the tiny aisle. I asked the gods if I had escaped and threw the Jiaobei.
No.
I asked the gods if I would be safe.
No.
I asked them would Meju kill me.
Both flat.
Both flat.
Both flat.
s

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…

The Hoax Story of Remarkable Testimony of a Buddhist monk in Myanmar (Burma) who came back to life a changed man!
Introduction The story that follows is simply a translation of a taped testimony from a man with a life-changing story. It is not an interview or a biography, but simply the words from the man himself. Different people react in different ways when they hear this story. Some are inspired, some skeptical, a few will mock and ridicule, while some others have even been filled with rage and anger, convinced these words are the ravings of a mad man or an elaborate deception. Some Christians have opposed the story simply because the radical and miraculous events described herein do not fit their feeble image of an Almighty God.
We were first made aware of this story from several Burmese church leaders who shared it with us. These leaders had looked into the story and had not found any suggestion of it being a hoax. It was with this in mind that we decided to step out and circulate the story. We do not do so for any monetary gain, or with a motivation of self-promotion. We just want to let the story speak for itself, and invite Christian believers to judge it according to Scripture. If God wants any part of it to be intended for His glory or to encourage His people, then we pray His Spirit will work in the hearts of the readers in those ways.
Some people have told us they think the monk in this story never actually died, but that he just lapsed into unconsciousness, and the things he saw and heard were part of a fever-driven hallucination. Whatever you think, the simple fact remains that the events of this story so radically transformed this man that his life took on a complete 180-degree shift after the events described below. He has fearlessly and boldly told his story at great personal cost, including imprisonment. He has been scorned by his relatives, friends and colleagues, and faced death threats for his unwillingness to compromise his message. What motivated this man to be willing to risk everything? Whether we believe him or not, his story is surely worth listening to and considering. In the cynical West many people demand hard evidence of such things, evidence that would stand up in a court of law. Can we absolutely guarantee, beyond doubt, that all of these things happened? No, we cannot. But we feel it is worth repeating this man's story in his own words so that readers can judge for themselves.
My Early Years Hello! My name is Athet Pyan Shinthaw Paulu. I am from the country of Myanmar. I would like to share with you my testimony of what happened to me, but first I would like to give some brief background information from my life growing up.
I was born in 1958 in the town of Bogale, on the Irrawaddy Delta area of southern Myanmar [formerly Burma]. My parents, who were devout Buddhists like most people in Myanmar, named me Thitpin [which means 'tree' in English]. Our lives were very simple where I grew up. At the age of 13 I left school and started working on a fishing boat. We caught fish and sometimes also shrimp from the numerous rivers and streams in the Irrawaddy area. At the age of 16 I became the leader of the boat. At this time I lived in Upper Mainmahlagyon Island [Mainmahlagyon means 'Beautiful Woman Island' in English], just north of Bogale where I was born. This place is about 100 miles southwest of Yangon [Rangoon], our nation's capitol city.
One day, when I was 17, we caught a large number of fish in our nets. Because of the many fish, a large crocodile was attracted to us. It followed our boat and tried to attack us. We were terrified so we frantically rowed our boats toward the riverbank as fast as we could. The crocodile followed us and smashed our boat with its tail. Although no one died in this incident, the attack greatly affected my life. I no longer wanted to fish. Our small boat sank because of the crocodile attack. We had to go home to our village that night on a passenger boat.
Not long after, his employers transferred my father to Yangon City [formerly spelt Rangoon]. At the age of 18 I was sent to a Buddhist monastery to be a novice monk. Most parents in Myanmar try to send their son into a Buddhist monastery, at least for a time, as it is considered a great honor to have a son serve in this way. We have been observing this custom for many hundreds of years.
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A Zealous Disciple of Buddha When I turned 19 years and 3 months old (in 1977), I became a normal monk. The senior monk at my monastery gave me a new Buddhist name, which is the custom in our country. I was now called U Nata Pannita Ashinthuriya. When we become a monk we no longer use the name given to us at birth by our parents. The name of the monastery I lived at is called Mandalay Kyaikasan Kyaing. The senior monk's name was called U Zadila Kyar Ni Kan Sayadaw [U Zadila is his title]. He was the most famous Buddhist monk in all of Myanmar at the time. Everyone knew who he was. He was widely honored by the people and respected as a great teacher. I say he "was" because in 1983 he suddenly died when he was involved in a fatal car accident. His death shocked everyone. At the time I had been a monk for six years.
I tried hard to be the best monk I could and to follow all the precepts of Buddhism. At one stage I moved to a cemetery where I lived and meditated continually. Some monks who really want to know the truths of Buddha do things like I did. Some move deep into the forests where they live a life of self-denial and poverty. I sought to deny my selfish thoughts and desires, to escape from sickness and suffering and to break free from the cycle of this world. At the cemetery I was not afraid of ghosts. I tried to attain such inner peace and self-realization that even when a mosquito landed on my arm I would let it bite me instead of brushing it off!
For years I strived to be the best monk I could and not to harm any living being. I studied the holy Buddhist teachings just like all my forefathers had done before me.
My life proceeded as a monk until I got very, very sick. I was in Mandalay at the time and had to be taken to the hospital for treatment. The doctors did some tests on me and told me I had both Yellow Fever and malaria at the same time! After about one month in the hospital I was getting worse. The doctors told me there was no chance for me to recover and discharged me to make arrangements to die.
This is a brief description of my past. I would now like to tell you some of the remarkable things that happened to me after this times...
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A Vision that Changed My Life Forever After I was discharged from the hospital I went back to the monastery where other monks cared for me. I grew weaker and weaker and was lapsing into unconsciousness. I learned later that I actually died for three days. My body decayed and stunk of death, and my heart stopped beating. My body was prepared for cremation and was put through traditional Buddhist purification rites.
Although I faded away in my body I remember my mind and spirit were fully alert. I was in a very, very powerful storm. A tremendous wind flattened the whole landscape until there were no trees or anything else standing, just a flat plain. I walked very fast along this plain for some time. There were no other people anywhere, I was all alone. After some time I crossed a river. On the other side of the river I saw a terrible, terrible lake of fire. In Buddhism we do not have a concept of a place like this. At first I was confused and didn't know it was hell until I saw Yama, the king of hell [Yama is the name ascribed to the King of Hell in numerous cultures throughout Asia]. His face looked like the face of a lion, his body was like a lion, but his legs were like a naga [serpent spirit]. He had a number of horns on his head. His face was very fierce, and I was extremely afraid. Trembling, I asked him his name. He replied, "I am the king of hell, the Destroyer."
The terrible, terrible lake of fire The king of hell told me to look into the lake of fire. I looked and I saw the saffron colored robes that Buddhist monks wear in Myanmar. I looked closer and saw the shaven head of a man. When I looked at the man's face I saw it was U Zadila Kyar Ni Kan Sayadaw [the famous monk who had died in a car accident in 1983]. I asked the king of hell why my former leader was confined to this lake of torment. I said, "Why is he in this lake of fire? He was a very good teacher. He even had a teaching tape called 'Are You a Man or a Dog?' which had helped thousands of people understand that their worth as humans is far greater than the animals." The king of hell replied, "Yes, he was a good teacher but he did not believe in Jesus Christ. That's why he is in hell."
I was told to look at another person who was in the fire. I saw a man with very long hair wrapped on the left hand side of his head. He was also wearing a robe. I asked the king of hell, "Who is this man?" He replied, "This is the one you worship: Gautama [Buddha]."
I was very disturbed to see Gautama in hell. I protested, "Gautama had good ethnics and good moral character, why is he suffering in this lake of fire?" The king of hell answered me, "It doesn't matter how good he was. He is in this place because he did not believe in the Eternal God."
I then saw another man who looked like he was wearing a soldier's uniform. He had a large wound on his chest. I asked, "Who is this man?" The king of hell said, "This is Aung San, the revolutionary leader of Myanmar." I was told, "Aung San is here because he persecuted and killed Christians, but mostly because he didn't believe in Jesus Christ." In Myanmar the people have a common saying, "Soldiers never die, they live on." I was told that the legions of hell have a saying "Soldiers never die, but they go to hell forever."
I looked and saw another man in the lake of fire. He was a very tall man and he was dressed in military armor. He was also holding a sword and a shield. This man had a wound on his forehead. This man was taller than any person I have ever seen. He was six times the length between a man's elbow and the tips of his fingers when he stretches his arm out straight, plus one span of a man's fingers when he spreads out his hand. The king of hell said, "This man's name is Goliath. He is in hell because he blasphemed the Eternal God and His servant David." I was confused because I didn't know who either Goliath or David were. The king of hell said, "Goliath is recorded in the Christian Bible. You don't know him now, but when you become a Christian you will know who he is."
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I was then taken to a place where I saw both rich and poor people preparing to eat their evening meals. I asked, "Who cooked the food for these people?" The king of hell replied, "The poor have to prepare their own food, but the rich people get others to cook for them." When the food had been prepared for the rich people they sat down to eat. As soon as they started a thick smoke came up. The rich people ate as fast as they could to ease their consciences. They were struggling to breath because of the smoke. They had to eat fast because they were fearful of losing their money. Their money is their god.
Another king of hell then came to me. I also saw a being whose job is to stoke the fires beneath the lake of fire, to keep it hot. This being asked me, "Are you going into the lake of fire too?" I replied, "No! I am only here to observe!" The appearance of this creature stoking the fire was very terrifying. He had ten horns on his head and a spear in his hand that had seven sharp blades coming from the end. The creature told me, "You are right. You came here just to observe. I cannot find your name here." He said, "You must now go back the way you came." He pointed me toward the desolate plain that I had first walked along before I came to the lake of fire.
The Road of Decision I walked a long time, until I was bleeding. I was hot and in great pain. Finally, after walking for about three hours I came to a wide road. I walked along this road for some time until I came to a fork. One road, going off to the left, was wide. A smaller road went off to the right hand side. There was a signpost at the fork saying that the road to the left was for those who do not believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. The smaller road to the right was for believers in Jesus.
I was interested to see where the larger road led so I started down it. There were two men walking about 300 yards ahead of me. I tried to catch up with them so I could walk with them but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't catch them up, so I turned around and went back to the fork in the road. I continued to watch these two men as they walked down the road away from me. When they reached the end of the road they were suddenly stabbed. These two men cried out in great pain! I also cried out when I saw what happened to them! I realized the bigger road ended in great danger for those who traveled down it.
Looking into Heaven I started walking down the believers' road instead. After traveling for about one hour the surface of the road turned to pure gold. It was so pure that when I looked down I could see my own reflection perfectly. I then saw a man standing in front of me. He was wearing a white robe. I also heard beautiful singing. Oh, it was so beautiful and pure! It was much better and more meaningful than the worship we have in churches here on the earth. The man in the white robe asked me to walk with him. I asked him, "What is your name?" but he did not answer. After I asked his name six times the man answered, "I am the one who holds the key to heaven. Heaven is a very, very beautiful place. You cannot go there now but if you follow Jesus Christ you can go there after your life has finished on the earth." The man's name was Peter.
Peter then asked me to sit down and he showed me a place to the north. Peter said, "Look to the north and see God create man." I saw the Eternal God from a distance. God spoke to an angel, "Let us make man." The angel pleaded with God and said, "Please don't make man. He will do wrong and will grieve you." [In Burmese literally: "He will make you lose face."]. But God created a man named anyway. God blew on the man and the man came to life. He gave him the name "Adam". [Note: Buddhists do not believe in the Creation of the world or of man, so this experience had a significant impact on the monk].
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Sent Back with a New Name Then Peter said, "Now get up and go back to where you came from. Speak to the people who worship Buddha and who worship idols. Tell them they must go to hell if they don't change. Those who build temples and idols will also have to go to hell. Those who give offerings to the monks to earn merit for themselves with go to hell. All those who pray to the monks and call them 'Pra' [respectful title for monks] will go to hell. Those who chant and 'give life' to idols will go to hell. All those who don't believe in Jesus Christ will go to hell." Peter told me to go back to the earth and testify about the things I had seen. He also said, "You must speak in your new name. From now on you are to be called Athet Pyan Shinthaw Paulu ["Paul who Came Back to Life."].
I didn't want to go back. I wanted to go to heaven. Angels opened a book. First they looked for my childhood name (Thitpin) in the book, but they could not find it. They then looked for the name I had been given when he entered the Buddhist monk hood (U Nata Pannita Ashinthuriya) but it wasn't written in the book either. Then Peter said, "Your name is not written here, you must return and testify about Jesus to the Buddhist people."
I walked back along the gold road. Again I heard beautiful singing, the kind of which I have never heard before or since. Peter walked with me until the time I returned to the earth. He showed me a ladder that reached down from the heaven to the sky. The ladder didn't reach to the earth, but stopped in mid-air. On the ladder I saw many angels, some going up to heaven and some going down the ladder. They were very busy. I asked Peter, "Who are they?" Peter answered, "They are messengers of God. They are reporting to heaven the names of all those who believe in Jesus Christ and the names of those who don't believe." Peter then told me it was time to go back.
It is a Ghost! The next thing I was aware of was the sound of weeping. I heard my own mother cry out, "My son, why did you leave us now?" I also heard many other people weeping. I realized I was lying in a box. I started to move. My mother and father started shouting, "He is alive! He is alive!" Other people who were farther away did not believe my parents. I then placed my hands on the sides of the box and sat upright. Many people were struck with terror. They cried out, "It is a ghost!" and ran away as fast as their legs could carry them.
Those who remained were speechless and trembling. I noticed I was sitting in smelly liquid and body fluids, enough to fill about three and a half cups. This was liquid that had come out of my stomach and my insides while my body was lying in the coffin. This is why people knew I had indeed been dead. Inside the coffin there was a type of plastic sheet fixed to the wood. This sheet is placed there to retain a corpse's liquids, because many dead bodies release much fluid like mine did.
I learned later that I was just moments away from being cremated in the flames. In Myanmar people are placed in a coffin, the lid is then nailed shut, and the whole coffin is burned. When I came back to life my mother and father were being allowed to look at my body for the very last time. Moments later the lid of my coffin would have been nailed shut and I would have been cremated!
I immediately started to explain the things I had seen and heard. People were astonished. I told them about the men I had seen in the lake of fire, and told them that only the Christians know the truth, that our forefathers and us have been deceived for thousands of years! I told them everything we believe is a lie. The people were astonished because they knew what kind of a monk I had been and how zealous I had been for the teachings of Buddha.
In Myanmar when a person dies their name and age is written on the side of the coffin. When a monk dies, the monk's name, age and the number of years he has served as a monk are written on the side of the coffin. I had already been recorded as dead but as you can see, now I am alive!
Epilogue Since 'Paul who came back to life' experienced the above story he has remained a faithful witness to the Lord Jesus Christ. Burmese pastors have told us that he had led hundreds of other monks to faith in Christ. His testimony is obviously very uncompromising. Because of that, his message has offended many people who cannot accept there is only one Way to Heaven, the Lord Jesus Christ. Despite great opposition, his experiences were so real to him that he has not wavered. After many years in the Buddhist monk hood, as a strict follower of Buddhist teachings, he immediately proclaimed the Gospel of Christ following his resurrection and exhorted other monks to forsake all false gods and follow Jesus Christ with all their hearts. Before the time of his sickness and death he had no exposure to Christianity at all. Everything he learned during those three days in the grave was new to his mind.
In a bid to get his message out to as many people as possible, this modern-day Lazarus began distributing audio and video cassette tapes with his story on them. The police and Buddhist authorities in Myanmar have done their utmost to gather these tapes up and destroy them. The testimony you have just read has been translated form one of those cassette tapes. We are told it is now quite dangerous for citizens of Myanmar to be in possession of these tapes.
His fearless testimony has landed him in prison at least once, where the authorities failed in their bid to silence him. Upon his release he continued to testify of the things he saw and heard. His current whereabouts are uncertain. One Burmese informant told us he is prison and may have been killed, while another informant was told he is now released from prison and is continuing his ministry.
Translated by: Asian Minorities Outreach P.O.Box 901 Palestine, TX 75802 U.S.A. E-Mail: monkst... u/yahoo.com Website: http://www.antioch.com.sg/mission/asianmo
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Dear Triplegem Members, The following message was posted to the NDE.com Website by someone called 'James' on 23rd July, 2000. (NDE = Near Death Experience). The Monk's story is identical. But the source is different. Details can be viewed at
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The message began with: "Buddhist Monk visits Hell" I believe this person died, body decay & rotten. He was then brought to those places by the LORD to show him some vision. <-------
This is taken from a mission paper "Northside Missions Update" Northside Christian Centre 31-61 McLeans Road Bundoora Victoria 3083 Australia
The same 'Monk's Story' followed. Then, exchange of interesting messages took place at the NDE.com Bulletin Board among NDE regulars, some of them are Christians, and finally, someone called 'Melvin', 'a Myanmar Buddhist', posted the following message and the discussion came to a close.
The fact that the same story has re-surfaced in another form (cassette), perhaps in a another country is a bit disturbing!
Best wishes to all our Triplegem members, MM Lwin
...................................................................

The project feels incomplete and the fact that the grass area is so small and it’s basically summer here (let alone many other plants need watering)… it’s a lot more difficult to grow grass right now. Is it acceptable to request it be redone with sod?

I'm not going to pretend that I'm a good marksperson. Until recently, the last time I picked up a rifle was around 15 years ago. Back then I shot .22LR on a cheap bolt action rifle that had a rear notch sight; when I started again, it was with an AK-47 which has a similar sight system, though the rear sight is much further away from the rear. You can see two targets I shot at 25 yards while standing during that first session with the AK here and here. These aren't very good groupings, but they can at least demonstrate that I can usually hit within 2" of my target with notch and post despite not practicing for years. I'm actually quite blown away by how simple AKs are; rifle is truly fine.
Recently, I decided to pick up an AR as well since I wanted some redundancy and also wanted to have a spare .22LR upper for cheap practice. I finally was able to assemble the stripped lower last week and threw a completed 16" upper on it with an MBUS Pro LR rear sight and an MBUS Pro front sight (both basically the same as A2 sights). With the sights on opposite extremities of the upper rail, sight radius is 20". I've set the LR rear to 200 yards and have counted 142 windage clicks from one side to another, so I've set it in the middle with 71 clicks; I currently have it set with the smalledarker aperture, but I have tried it a bit with the larger aperture / ghost ring. For the front sight, I've set the horizontal line on the post flush with its housing as instructed here. I'm currently using thin side of the post, but I did try the thick side for a bit too.
Anyways, this all leads up to my problem: no matter what I do, point of impact is always about 4" lower than point of aim. I've been to the range 3 times with a couple hundred rounds to try and remedy this, have tried many different things, but no matter what I do I'm hitting low.
I initially thought it was a problem with just throwing on the MBUS sights on without zeroing them. However, the during the most recent range visit I handed my rifle to two different RSOs to test it; they were able to hit within an inch of center at 10 yards, which I am consistently 4 inches below them at 10 yards. I confirmed with them that they were not holding over for these shots. One RSO even felt that it was zeroed at 10 yards, though I don't think this is quite right. The point is that they aimed dead center and hit within an inch, while I am not, so this is certainly a skill issue.
I've looked at so many resources on peep sights to make sure I'm using them right. I've tried Nose to Charging Handle (NTCH) and am doing my best to put the top of the front post in the center of the aperture.
Here's a list of all sorts of things I've tried: * putting my cheek/eye as close to the aperture as possible * putting my cheek further away from the aperture * aiming while standing unsupported * aiming while crouching unsupported * aiming while sitting with supports under the handguard * flipping the rear sight open to use the larger aperture * adjusting the carbine stock of the rifle to different lengths * holding the butt at different places at my chest and shoulder * shooting at different ranges (7, 10, 15, 20 yards)
I've done lots of research and now know about things like mechanical offset, bullet trajectory, and different types of zeroing. The mechanical offset on this rifle is 2.6"; the top of the front post is 1.4" from top of rail, center of rear aperture is 1.4" from top of rail, and center of barrel is 1.2" from top of rail. It seems that the sights are roughly parallel with the barrel which would certainly affect the trajectory, but I don't think it would affect it so much that I'd see an additional 1.2" of drop in addition to mechanical offset. Also, the two RSOs had no problem aiming center of target and hitting center of target at 10 yards. I confirmed with them multiple times that they weren't holding over center when taking those shots.
It's obvious that I'm somehow using these sights differently than intended. I don't want to develop bad habits by holding over or zeroing them weird because I'm using them wrong. I have the exact same issues while sitting, so I don't think it's necessarily something technique-related like breathing; I usually have an inch variance from things like that, but not an entire 4 inches. I'm totally fine hitting a target and correcting myself with notch and post, but these aperture sights are killing me.
Here are my latest two targets here and here as I've described.
Has anyone seen anything like this before? Does anyone have any suggestions to correct it? I'm running out of ideas and things to try.

I'm thinking I want to rebuild them before they fail catastrophically. I'll DIY a lot of things, but know when to call a professional and this type of work would be way beyond my abilities. So I'm here looking for a basic education about what to ask a contractor to do and what specifically to ask for so the new steps don't just settle and sink like the old ones. How should they reinforce and fill them to prevent that? Should they drill and pour some pier footings or something? I assume pinning to the house is a bad idea in case they ever did settle again....steps seem easier to fix than the house foundation. No stupid questions....are these past saving?
My front steps are slowly settling down and away from the house. The previous owner had someone put mortar in the ever-growing gaps to pass inspection when I bought the place in 2014 which is why the mortar lines are so wide uneven in some places. The additional settling after that was done that you can see in the pics has happened between then and now.
I'm not married to the idea of brick steps and think I would like a natural stone or even a rough edge cement look for the steps themselves, but would like to salvage and reuse some of the existing brick for along the outside wall so looking at it from the side the brick continues the way it does now. Also want to add some steps down to the down into the yard from the sidewalk at the very bottom of the steps down from the first section of sidewalk.
(North Alabama. Heavy clay soil with lots of loose limestone mixed in. House is single story on a tall crawlspace built on a bit of a slope but not extreme. This area is lousy with 1/2 assed work because of a housing boom and guys trying to hurry on to the next job....also most of the very skilled ones are working multimillion dollar McMansion builds so us commoners are left fighting for the scraps.)

So this is a bit strange, not sure if others have experienced anything similar.
Sometime in the last few years something about my dreams changed dramatically.
They are much less surreal than they once were, people look like themselves whereas in the past I could recognise people despite them not looking at all like themselves
The landscapes have become much more concrete I’ve literally had advertisements infiltrate my dreams which never used to happen
Also had flags from counties I haven’t visited or looked up recently popping up quite a lot which never used I be a thing.
I know most people don’t ever see phones in their dreams but it has become a common occurrence for me since this change and I have no idea why
I know there are companies working on this and there are patents on google if you search.
There’s talk of “data mining” dreams and I have had random people in my dream actually ask if they could “mine here” though I interpreted it as the more traditional mining, as in mining the earth. Since seeing people mention data mining dreams I’ve begun to wonder
Like inception only not as cool in terms of the environments etc
Overall dreams just feel much more artificial now. Many of them seem much closer to how movies and tv portray dreams rather than how I used to dream
Has anyone else experienced this? Or anything similar?
Feeling like an unwilling participant in some kind of psyche based human experiments

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.

Hello
I'd like you to imagine that, in 2017, Activision did not publish Call of Duty: WWII but instead Call of Duty: Eternal. This is a story which is very much the same as what Call of Duty: WWII transpired as but with a couple of significant differences. For a start, it's not set during World War Two - it's set in a fantasy world with a 1940s/50s level of technology. A global war is raging between mankind and Orks, with the Orks having conquered great tracts of the world, and the story opening with the efforts by humanity to retake "Albion" from Ork occupation. I like to imagine the faces of Call of Duty fans when the first trailer came out and, seeing what looked like D-Day, got excited that at last the franchise was going back to its roots - only to see that the enemies are Orks and the main character is a Lenape woman.
To help with this imagining - below you'll find the full script for the first mission of Call of Duty: Eternal, based on the first mission of Call of Duty: WWII. The rest will gradually follow.
You might find it useful to follow along using this video - a walkthrough (no commentary, thank God) of the actual first mission in Call of Duty: WWII to help with visualising it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7y1bDQBEhA
Call of Duty: Eternal Mission 1 X-Day
Text slowly appears on-screen:
The world is bathed in flames.
The Ork clans, united for the first time in centuries, are on the march.
Man faces extermination.
A human skull is shown before an Ork boot comes down on it, shattering it.
Radio broadcast: With unmatched ferocity, the Ork war machine has launched its onslaught against the world… mankind faces the abyss.
The camera pans up on the Ork boot to show an Ork soldier as, behind him, Ork soldiers and tanks move through a devastated city.
Radio broadcast: As we brace for our darkest hour, we must summon our strength to be the bulwark against oppression.
Ork bombers are shown bombing London, recognisable for the Thames if not for the architecture. They are four-engine bombers, like B-17s, and the camera closes in on a propeller which shifts to a ceiling fan.
Radio broadcast: The Ork onslaught will be the greatest test we'll ever face.
The camera pans down from the ceiling fan Mona Kanti, a young Lenape woman and the protagonist, is shown joining the Imperial Armed Forces. She stands in a line in a recruitment office as a recruitment officer stamps her papers.
Radio broadcast: But face it and defeat it… we must.
To punctuate the “we must,” a sudden cut to black with the sound cut out. Then, we hear the voice of the Ork Primarch. A speech plays, meant to mirror FDR’s D-Day Prayer, with shots of the Ork war machine we’ve been hearing so much about.
Primarch: With this war we set upon a mighty endeavour.
Fade from black to show huge lines of Ork soldiers in formation, like big Nazi rallies, are shown.
Primarch: A struggle to restore our civilization…
Ork soldiers on one knee in this rally are shown, closer up, dressed in battle gear and their faces daubed in war paint.
Primarch: …and to set free a suffering people.
A view from the rear of the rally, with the vast architecture of the Primarch’s palace shown looming over it all, resembling the Palace of the Soviets.
Primarch: Our Sons. Pride of our Clans.
Another panning shot of the assembled Orks, this time from the side.
Primarch: May the Mother lead them straight and true.
An Ork mystic, on the balcony overlooking the assembly, blesses the troops with hands raised to the sky.
Primarch: The road will be glorious. Men's souls will be broken with the beauty of war.
A shot from behind the mystic, seeing the assembled troops stretching towards the horizon.
Primarch: In this time of fire and blood…
The face of one Ork soldier is shown up close.
Primarch: …we shall prevail.
With the slightest of grimaces, the Ork uses a knife – and, in the background, we see the others doing the same – to ritualistically slice his forehead and let blood trickle down.
The cutscene then shifts to the Imperial Navy ships, including battleships of a scale similar to the Super Yamato, that are heading for the beaches of Albion. Mona Kanti is writing a letter to her sister, Luna Kanti, and we hear her voice-over as we view shots of the fleet.
Kanti (narrating): Luna. Oh, I wish you could see this, sister. An armada from one horizon to the next. I turned sixteen too late to help free Ériu. But not Albion – and it’s gonna be tougher. Much tougher. You know, I think I could bear the blood, and the misery… and the Orks. But the waiting… well, that’s a whole other battle.
Inside the troopship living quarters. We are now in first-person as Kanti. Kanti is sat at a table, hanging out and talking with her squad-mates Kinsi Rei (female Somali; shaved head), Thea Adlai, (female Swedish; ginger, freckles, glasses) and Ren Tao (male Chinese). Ren Tao is eighteen – the others are all sixteen. Bunks are stretched out behind them and other soldiers, of all ethnicities and sexes, walk by throughout. Rei is holding court while playing with a knife, every now and then jabbing between her fingers.
Rei: So she asks me for my watch and I'm thinking, "what in the Nether do you want my watch for; your parents make like fifty times mine!" But I turn around, and I felt this punch. And it's cold like ice.
Some of the dialogue is drowned out by Kanti’s narration. Every now and then, Kanti glances down at her fingers as she snaps them, but whatever she’s trying to do with that isn’t happening.
Kanti (narrating): Believe it or not, I managed to make some half-decent friends in Basic. All scared as can be. But nobody’s letting on.
Rei keeps playing her knife game as she talks.
Kanti (narrating): I hated Rei when I met her – and now she's my best friend. Funny how that works. She's always looking for trouble. If there wasn't already a war on she'd be off trying to start one.
Rei offers her knife to Thea Adlai and, though we can’t hear her given the narration, seems to be asking her if she wants to try the knife game. Adlai refuses.
Adlai: Besides, I gotta keep all my fingers if I'm gonna take photo of the year.
Kanti (narrating): Adlai says she's gonna be a photographer for a fashion magazine. She’s got a good eye. Except when she takes off her glasses – then she can’t see shit.
Rei offers her knife to Kanti and Kanti turns to Ren Tao.
Kanti (narrating): Tao's the vet but, if I’m honest, he's what kokomi would call “a bit of a bumpkin.”
Ren Tao is tempted to play Rei’s knife game.
Tao: Okay, okay. Let's make this interesting.
Rei: It’s not interesting? Kanti – what’re you doing?
She says this in reference to Kanti’s finger-snapping.
Kanti (narrating): I swear I used to be able to do this…
Tao: So you keep saying.
Tao take off his talisman and dangles it in front of Rei.
Tao: Xu Yaling. Spirit of war.
Adlai: And sex, right?
Tao: Sssh. (Rei and Adlai laugh) He's had my back since Sabha. And, yeah, that’s real gold. (drops the talisman down on the table) Rei, three times in ten seconds, and he's all yours. (Sits back down)
Rei: I don't know.
Tao: Oh, you could always wimp out. That’s a choice, too.
Kanti: My money's on Rei.
Rei: Okay. Okay, I'm in.
Adlai: I can't watch.
Tao: I can.
Rei looks to Adlai.
Rei: Just time me when I tell you. Back to my story – me and my girls, we muscled our way into this chess game that the wrestling team had going. We had a bona-fide genius among us – but it was me playing. We worked out a system where she can signal to me what moves to make. You should have seen the Head Girl’s face when I took that pot. (To Adlai) You ready? That's what happens when you try to hustle a hustler. Now…
Rei plays the knife game while Adlai times her and wins the bet in a few impressive seconds.
Rei: Checkmate!
Tao: There ain’t no way!
Kanti (narrating): Tao had enough fight in him for two men.
Rei: Much obliged.
Rei offers to shake hands with Tao.
Tao: My mother told me never touch a Nube.
Rei doesn’t flinch but you can tell she’s ready to throw hands. Instead…
Rei: That's not what she said last night.
Rei winks and Tao shakes her hand.
Kanti (narrating): And enough bigotry for six.
Tao: Meh, who needs a stupid talisman anyway.
Rei: Apparently, you did. Here, have it back.
Tao: You won it.
Rei: It’s fake gold.
Tao: What? No, no, no, that’s as real as you or I.
Rei: A hustler always knows.
Tao: Ah, whatever, if it’s fake I don’t want it. I'm gonna get something better. A real trophy. You'll see.
Rei: Good luck with that.
Kanti snaps her fingers and finally produces what she wanted – a finger of flame, like a lighter, appears.
Kanti: I did it! Look, look, I did it!
Rei: Well, by Baphometh, isn’t that something?
Tao: That’s very pretty, Kanti. You’re ready to take on the Primarch, I should think.
Rei: She was always ready. Right Kanti?
Tao: You got any healing spells we could use or is it all evil magic with you?
Kanti: Well-
Rei: Oh, go on, tell him, Kanti! Tell him about that thing you can do!
Adlai: What thing?
Rei: And there’s no such thing as good and evil magic. Just good and evil people.
Kanti: It’s not that I can do it; it’s just that it happens sometimes. When someone’s dead I can kinda, you know, see into their past. But they have to of died recently. And I can’t do it with most people.
Tao: Well, we’re invading Fortress Albion, my friend. Good time to find yourself some corpses.
Rei: Maybe even your own.
Adlai: Hey, Kanti, do that spell again for the camera.
Adlai raises her camera then, seeing her watch, realizes that they are late for the mission briefing.
Adlai: Oh! Never mind, briefing’s at 18:00; we're gonna be late!
Adlai jumps up and runs from the room. The others also stand.
Tao: Run, little mouse.
Rei: I got us covered Kanti; don't worry about it (Showing the pendant to Kanti and winking). It is real gold.
As Kanti and Rei leave the living quarters, they encounter Khand, their turban-wearing sergeant, and in terms of personality very much a cranky sergeant stereotype.
Khand: Briefing's about to start; what in the Nether are you idiots doing?
Kanti (narrating): Then there's Sergeant Khand. He’s a sweetheart.
Khand: Oh, you think you're special, huh? The Orks are gonna eat you alive.
Rei: No, not me, sergeant. I’m high in salt.
Khand: Watch your lip, Rei. On me.
Khand leaves. The other two move to follow.
Rei: Since I'm obviously on a lucky streak, whatever happens, stay close. First Albion, then the Great Pale, then home in time for tea and medals. We got this, Kanti.
Scene fades out.
All of the 66th Infantry Division troops are on the deck of the ship as the rain pours down and Colonel Kitwana, a Swahili man, gives his pre-battle speech. As he does, we see the soldiers assembled watching him.
Kitwana: Today… we embark on an operation of unparalleled importance. To establish a beachhead in Albion… and roll back the Ork horde... that has terrorized the world since before many of you were born. We are all that separates the world from darkness. This is so much more than a chance to be heroes in our own lifetimes. If we prevail… our triumphs will be etched into the hearts and minds of a grateful world for untold generations. I'm talking about glory. True glory.
Kanti narrates her letter to Luna and soldiers begin to climb down the cargo net on the side of the ship into landing craft. These craft start making for the Albion coast.
Kanti (narrating): Colonel Kitwana can give a nice speech. His pep talk reminded me of the one Coach Pakwa gave us on our Mother’s Night game against Susquehanna. I'm sure you remember we lost by 67 points. (Focuses on Sokolov and Khand) Always looking over Khand’s shoulders is Lieutenant Sokolov. He's got him on a tight leash. But if Khand breaks free, we'll all get bit. Ever since I found my gift, I wanted to be like you, Luna. You've always been a tough act to follow. But I'll do my best.
Gameplay​
We are now in first-person again as Kanti.
Kanti (narrating): It's now or never.
Kanti is writing in her notebook, the photo of Luna pinned to a page, as their landing craft drives for the Albion shore. Kanti is interrupted by Rei.
Rei: Hey! I wish I was coming home to her!
Kanti: That’s my sister! Just wait ‘til we hit Lutetia. Enough girls for the rest of your long life.
Rei: I’m starting to realise how far away it is.
Kanti take a quick glance at her notebook and closes it before tucking it into her pack.
Sokolov: Remember. No digging in at the shore. You advance. You need to stay low and do not bunch up. Stick to your training and you're gonna make it through.
Khand: Most of you, anyway.
Medium bombers pass by overhead, resembling the Junkers Ju 88 (in this universe known as Dragons) on a heading towards Albion.
Tao: Alright! Give em hell, boys.
Text appears across the screen.
X-DAY Lùnastal 17th, 397 NE Rheged, Northern Albion
Rei: The beaches are meant to be flattened, right?
Khand: You sound scared, Private.
Rei: No, sir.
Khand: You should be.
Driver: Hey, you! You!
Kanti turns to look at the landing craft’s driver behind her.
Driver: Got a light?
Kanti: Sure thing.
Kanti snaps her fingers a couple times and produces the flame again.
Driver: Oh – you’re one of them.
Soldier: Never trust a witch.
As the driver lights his cigarette on her finger, a bullet hits the boat’s machine gunner in the throat; he falls, flailing, with blood spurting out of his neck like in a Tarantino film. Shells start to fall.
Driver: Bastards!
Sokolov: Everyone down!
Rei: This is it!
Ork artillery lands in the grey ocean all around, spraying the craft with water. Kanti crouches with the rest of the troops.
Soldier: Watch out!
Bullets bounce off the landing craft’s armour.
Soldier: This isn’t fun!
Driver: Five hundred yards!
Another shell lands nearby and sprays the craft with water. Kanti trips but is held up by Khand grabbing her arm.
Driver: We’re gonna have to pull off!
Sokolov: No, we stay on mission! You're taking us in!
Driver: We must have drifted! I can't see the landmark!
Khand: You heard the lieutenant. Full speed!
Sokolov: Incoming!
An artillery shells blows up the neighbouring landing craft.
Soldier: By the Gods!
Sokolov: Hold tight!
An artillery shell, again, lands near the boat.
Kanti: Damn it!
Driver: Two hundred yards!
Looking up, a Dragon bomber is visible coming down with an engine on fire.
Driver: Twenty seconds!
Sokolov: Remember the plan! Get to the seawall!
Khand: Ceres! Aradove! Get the bangalore to the wire, fast! Everyone ready? Here we go!
Sokolov: Drop the ramp!
Driver: There's no cover!
Khand: That was an order, damn you! Drop it!
The ramp drops just as a landing craft consumed with flames comes crashing into theirs.
Rei: Oh, shit!
Kanti is knocked off her feet by the impact. Looking up, she watches as machine gun fire from the clifftops chops down a number of soldiers on the boat now that the ramp has been dropped. One has his head blown off and his neck is left spouting blood over Kanti as others are also cut down.
Sokolov: Over the sides! Now! Now!
Kanti follows as the survivors climb over the boat’s side. She stays underwater for a few seconds before being helped to her feet by Sokolov, spluttering.
Sokolov: I got you, child!
Just behind him, the beach is consumed by fighting and the noise of war is deafening.
Sokolov: Get your head down and keep moving!
Sokolov leads Kanti out of the surf, a burning soldier falls screaming from another landing craft and into the water, while carnage reigns all around. Bodies are floating all about and the water is red with blood.
Sokolov: Kanti; on me!
Running through the sand as explosions go off all around, artillery can be seen curling from the Ork lines towards the beach. Sokolov and Kanti hit the deck in front of some Ork tank traps.
Sokolov: Demolition team is dead! Take the bangalore and get to the seawall! We need to clear a path to the bunkers!
Kanti temporarily looks away, back to the water, and witnesses the bloodshed of soldiers dying, and a number running out of a landing craft on fire, while a warship close to shore opens fire on the coastal defences. Sokolov gets Kanti’s attention.
Sokolov: Kanti!
An explosion goes off nearby, half-soaking Sokolov’s face with gore. Someone just blew up.
Sokolov: This is your job! You got that?! Now pick up the banger!
Kanti moves the severed arm of a dead soldier to retrieve the bangalore. She looks upon the dead soldier’s corpse and, suddenly, her vision fades away and she sees his memories. This is the first of the Internal Vortex collectibles which can be found throughout the game, whereby additional lore is provided through Kanti’s ability to tap into the memories of certain corpses (human and Ork). In this case, the accessed memory tells a brief story of the soldier (Private Omid Afshani) and how he was part of a traditional military family and all his brothers have already fallen, told he would be a general someday, how he was born on a ship evacuating Persia (which goes some way to explaining why the Imperial military is so multiethnic – the whole world evacuated to the Americas) and how his last letter home from the ship told of how “I can’t wait to hear the birdsong again.”
Afterwards, she returns to lucidity.
Sokolov: Kanti! Kanti! You with me?!
Kanti: Yes!
Sokolov: You can do this!
Sokolov stands and starts running up the beach. Kanti watches after him.
Kanti: I hope so, sir!
Kanti looks at the dead soldier that was carrying the torpedo bangalore, and with one hand closes his eyes.
Kanti: Sorry.
Kanti takes the body’s R7 Remi rifle (comparable to the M1 Garand) and proceeds up the beachhead, trying not to get killed. The machine gun nests in the clifftop fortifications will open fire on the soldiers then wait for a few seconds to reload. This will be the player's chance to move up to avoid taking damage. The player moves from cover to cover – tank traps, the wreckage of vehicles such as half-tracks and light tanks, and shell craters, mostly.
Khand: Hurry before they reload! Move it!
Sokolov: Kanti! This way! Hurry! Stop and you’re dread!
Tao: Shit!
Sokolov: Those MGs are killing us! Get off the beach!
Khand: Private Kanti – get to the seawall!
Rei: Get to the seawall! I’ll meet you there!
A couple of armoured vehicles – light tanks resembling Soviet BT-7s, here called LT-5 Termites – are now also moving up the beach and providing fire support. One blows up.
Sokolov: Keep low. When there’s a break in the fire, run for it!
There’s a break in the fire – you run for it.
Sokolov: Kanti, get the bangalore!
When Kanti reaches the seawall, which is made up of a big mound of sand lined at its top by barbed fire and burning gasoline, she falls against it. Her fellow soldiers fall in alongside her or are already there. A lot of wounded are also there, being treated by medics as machine gun fire flies over their heads. Rei falls next to Kanti, her face covered in dirt and blood.
Rei: Kanti! Use the banger; I'll cover you! After we breach, keep pushing toward the bunker!
Kanti: You’re covered in blood.
Rei: It’s not mine. Focus!
Kanti sets up the torpedo bangalore, made up of two cylindrical rods, with the second able to fit inside the first. Her handling is shaky and she drops one rod. Rei picks it up for her and gives it back.
Rei: We're nearly there!
Kanti pushes the torpedo bangalore into the seawall.
Rei: Pull it! Pull it!
Kanti: Fire in the hole!
Kanti scrambles backwards and the bangalore explodes, tearing a hole in the seawall for the soldiers to pour through, dirt pouring down like rain.
Sokolov: Weapons ready! Fix bayonets!
Kanti fumbles for her bayonet and fixes it to her rifle. You can now use this as a melee weapon against enemy infantry.
Rei: Ready to see your first Ork?
Sokolov: Attack!
Sokolov leads the troops through the hole – and many, though not Sokolov, are cut down.
Rei: Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!
Sokolov: Push forward!
After passing through the hole, you are faced with a clearing sprinkled with tank traps and barbed wire. After that, trenches, and then the bluffs with fortifications spitting machine gun fire.
Rei: Into the trench! Hurry!
Soldier: Orks!
You now face your first Ork drones as you push towards the trenches. Once you get into the trench, you slowly clear it and a mortar position, presumably losing Health as you do. Once done, you turn a corner deeper into the trenches where Rei is located.
Rei: That wound looks bad! Here, take this!
Rei throws a health pack to Kanti. The player can now call on Rei, when the squad meter fills, to add a pack for a total of four.
Kanti: Many thanks!
The player moves through the trenches, clearing out Ork drones. Friendly troops leap across the trenches. The player then gets to the end of the trenches and reaches the bluffs covered by Ork fortifications. A slope goes uphill between the bluffs but machine gun fire pins the friendly troops down and makes it impassable.
Khand: We can't advance with those MGs firing on our position!
Sokolov: Hold tight. Fire support incoming!
Khand: Kanti, mark the target!
Khand throws a canister to Kanti. Kanti catches it and throws it uphill towards the Ork bunkers. Red smoke emanates. Sokolov is shouting into a radio.
Sokolov: Kestrel, target is lit up! Hit it now and hit it hard!
Radio: Roger, we have your smoke visual. Attack run inbound.
Explosions hit the MG bunker as rockets from a trio of dive-bombing jets which resemble de Havilland Vampires (in this universe called Banshees) come in and obliterate the fortifications. The jets pass by close overhead.
Tao: That's it! Let 'em have it!
Adlai: MGs are dead!
Kanti: (laughs) They tore them to shreds!
Sokolov: Get to the top!
You and your squad move up the hill – a wounded Ork, both arms missing, stumbles from the smoke and still tries to fight by biting at Sokolov. Sokolov shoots it down.
Sokolov: Crazy bastards.
More Ork infantry advance.
Ork: I shall wear your hide as a coat!
After defeating these Orks, the player advances to the top of the hill through which additional trenches burrow.
Sokolov: Kanti; I need you and Rei to take point and clear those bunkers! Go!
Rei: Had to be us!
You move in with your squad. There are five bunkers to clear. The first has a clearing full of mortar positions, where Ork infantry defend, and there’s more firing at you from inside the bunker itself.
Sokolov: Orks are dug in. Kanti, get a grenade in that bunker!
You break into the bunker and clear it out, including the machine gun post covering the beach.
Rei: First one’s down!
Sokolov: Bunker’s clear – everyone out.
You move on. Taking the adjoining trenches, you come across an Ork Officer – larger and more heavily armoured than the Drones you’ve been fighting so far – holding a human soldier by the neck. Assuming you shoot him in the head, the only non-armoured part, he’ll go down and the soldier is saved.
Soldier: Thanks! I owe you!
If not, and your bullets bounce off the Officer’s armour, he crushes the man’s neck in his hand and comes for you.
After that, you drive on through the trenches, killing a few more Orks, before turning and entering an underground bunker. Inside, the entry is covered by a machine gun post.
Khand: MG's pinning us! Someone toss a smoke!
You can do that, or you can perhaps kill the machine gunner. Up to you. Afterwards, you drive on through the underground bunker. It’s a bit of a catacomb full of dormitories and a radio room. Eventually, you clear it.
Khand: Bunker's clear. Let's go!
Sokolov: Everybody out, bunker's clear!
You head back outside, 2 of 5 bunkers complete. You continue through the trenches, meeting fresh Orks.
Rei: There’s artillery hitting the beach! The next assault wave won’t make it!
Khand: Keep pushing! That artillery is hammering our ships!
Kanti: On it, sir! Yeah, I can do this, I can do this…
You carry on through the trench. Some Banshee jet fighters screech overhead. Reaching the entrance to the next bunker, you see a friendly – Corporal Lieu – with an F3 Inferno – a backpack flamethrower. He fires it down the bunker at unseen enemy troops before being gunned down.
Kanti: I'm going in!
Rei: Careful!
You enter the bunker – you can pick up the F3 Inferno as you do, which doesn’t last long but which is fun to use.
Ork: Come, little men!
You clear the bunker. As you reach the machine gun post, you enter into a quicktime moment. Kanti gets ambushed around a corner by an Ork soldier, who grabs her by the throat and pins her to the wall, but she jams her combat knife into his neck. Falling from his grasp, she sees the machine gunner just as a shell from a ship offshore hits the bunker dead-on and blows it, and him, to smithereens. Rei appears from the dust and helps Kanti to her feet.
Rei: Shit! Fucking Navy. Don’t they believe in us?
Returning from the machine gun nest, some Orks have shown up to try and retake the bunker. Take them out and then the bunker’s cleared.
The next bunker is just a hop from this one – you enter, at first finding nobody, before discovering an Ork pinning an Imperial soldier to the wall.
Soldier: Somebody help!
You, I should hope, kill the Ork.
Soldier: Thanks! Oh, hey, a girl…
Kanti: You wish.
You drive into the bunker, in the heart of which is a mortar position, and take out the Ork defenders. With that, the bunker is cleared.
Khand: Move up, move up!
Everyone rallies at the big steel door at the end of the bunker.
Khand: Adlai. Tao. With me. Kanti, you and Rei clear the next bunker. Rally at the top of the bluff, and for fuck’s sake try not to get yourselves killed.
You interact with the big steel door and open it, before going with Rei down some more trenches.
Kanti: Alright, Rei. One more!
Rei: We got this!
You turn a corner into a clearing before the bunker. There’s Orks both defending it on the ground and a sniper on top of the bunker itself. After dealing with this, you head inside, Rei behind you.
As you enter the bunker, Kanti is ambushed by an Ork Major – she is thrown to the floor and the Ork stands over her, pulling out a knife.
Ork: Never did fear smell so sweet.
Rei jumps onto its back and holds onto him around the neck. The Ork manages to throw Rei onto the ground before stabbing her through the belly.
Kanti: Rei! Oh, shit, no!
The Ork soldier leaves the wounded Rei, knife still sticking from her stomach, and approaches Kanti.
Ork: Stand and face me, woman. Show some honour.
Kanti stands and fights the Ork, which through its superior strength easily ends up on top of her, taking away her knife and now pushing it down towards her with both hands. Then, Kanti’s hands light up and the flames return – her whole hands are on fire. The Ork roars in pain and surprise and backs away, looking at its burned hands, before Kanti runs at him as the flames go out and tackles him to the ground. The Ork is still stronger and goes back to throttling her – but they’ve fallen near Rei, who yanks the knife out of her belly and jams it into the Ork’s chest.
Ork: The glory…
The Ork dies. Kanti climbs off and approaches Rei, who suddenly brandishes a pistol.
Kanti: Whoa, Rei…
Rei: Duck!
Kanti does so and Rei shoots the unseen Ork which was behind her. Kanti looks back to Rei, who is dealing with quite a lot of pain.
Kanti: Come on, you’re okay, you’re okay.
Rei: I can't walk.
Kanti pulls up Rei’s uniform to see her stomach – the wound is gushing blood.
Kanti: Oh, shit…
Rei: That bad?
Kanti: It’s not great.
Rei: Would you mind getting me out of here?
An explosion, presumably artillery – Kanti looks down the bunker to see it shudder, rubble falling from the ceiling.
Kanti: Yeah, course, no problem Kinsi, just stay with me, okay? Can you do that?
Rei: I’m gonna have to try. Pulling that knife out was pretty fucking stupid, huh?
Kanti: No comment. Come on.
The player starts dragging Rei out of the bunker and outside. Across a pretty dangerous clearing are friendly lines.
Kanti: We've gotta get back to friendly lines!
Kanti starts dragging Rei across the grass
Rei: On your left!
Kanti shoots the Orks which appear from the left with her pistol and keeps going.
Rei: You’re gonna… have to tell me… how you did that fire thing.
Kanti: I will when I figure it out myself!
They keep going.
Kanti: Not much further. Just keep pressure on that wound.
Rei: I’m trying!
Kanti drags Rei to a wall of sandbags and clambers over them.
Kanti: We gotta take cover!
Rei, in what is pretty clearly a painful endeavour, follows suit and lays in the mud. With her pistol, Kanti faces the Orks now coming for them.
Ork: Tasty, salty man-flesh!
Rei: How many?
Kanti: Too many!
Once the Orks are dispatched, Kanti looks back down at Rei.
Kanti: We're clear! Come on!
Kanti starts dragging Rei through the mud.
Rei: You call that fuckin' clear?
They skirt the edge of the trenches – an Imperial soldier with a flamethrower is dousing a group of Orks in fire. They continue along the edge of the trench, which is lined with barbed wire and so inaccessible, at least for Rei.
Rei: I'm losing too much blood. I think. You need more than half, right?
Kanti: Just hang in there! I gotta find a clearing to get in the trench!
Kanti places Rei down as smoke canisters pop, obscuring the next Ork wave to come their way.
Ork (from somewhere in the smoke): The clan will feast on you!
Kanti: Keep your head down!
Rei: Did you get 'em?
Kanti: They keep coming! How many of these fuckers are there?!
After taking out four or five, Kanti turns back to Rei.
Rei: Watch out!
Rei, with her sidearm, shoots down an Ork drone running at them from behind.
Rei: Still got it.
Kanti: Now’s our chance!
Kanti keep dragging Rei along the edge of the trench, smoke from the Ork canisters obscuring everything. As she goes, an Ork grenade lands at her feet.
Kanti: Fuck!
Kanti throws grabs it and throws it away. She sees an open area in the trench.
Kanti: Bingo!
Kanti jumps down into the trench, up to her ankles in mud, then turns back to Rei.
Kanti: I got you!
Rei rolls off the edge of the trench and lands in the mud at Kanti’s feet. A few more Orks appear from the smoke and Kanti shoots them down. She then looks down at Rei, who’s on the edge of losing consciousness, and then looks down the trench where more Ork infantry are coming at them.
Kanti: Oh, give us a break!
Kanti takes them out. Then, she turns back to Rei and starts dragging her down the trench.
Rei: Oh, wow, I'm actually bleeding out.
Kanti: Just keep pressure on it!
Rei: I’m trying! I’m trying!
Kanti: Almost there!
They reach some concrete steps – a friendly soldier is at the top.
Soldier: Come on up here! Move, move!
Kanti starts dragging Rei up the stairs – the soldier runs down and helps.
Soldier: I got you!
Two Orks come around the corner – someone on the top of the stairs shoots them both down. They reach the top of the stairs and find themselves in the middle of a friendly improvised triage centre. Kanti lays Rei down, whose face is very dazed, as she flicks off her helmet, blood trickling from her mouth.
Kanti: Okay. Stay with me. Healer!
Nobody comes – everyone’s busy.
Rei: I need morphine. All the morphine.
Kanti takes out a syringe of morphine, pulls off the cap with her teeth, and injects Rei in the thigh. Rei’s breathing is strained and painful. Kanti puts a hand under her head as a pillow.
Kanti: You gotta hang on. Those girls in Lutetia are waiting for you.
Rei: Really?
Kanti: Of course.
Rei: I… uh… how about another look at your sister?
Rei manages a smile, sniggering through the pain, and Kanti laughs, too.
Kanti: You’re infuriating.
Rei: It's okay. I can't see shit. I'm just gonna rest right here.
Rei’s eyes close.
Kanti: No, no, no, you need to stay awake. Hey.
Kanti puts her hand against Rei’s face, slapping her awake, and Rei’s eyes open.
Rei: Mona…
Kanti: I'm here.
Rei makes eye contact.
Rei: Help me.
Kanti: I need a fucking Healer!
A Healer finishes treating a wounded soldier and rushes over, taking over from Kanti in trying to stop the bleeding.
Healer: I got this! Go!
Kanti looks back down at Rei.
Kanti: But… but I…
Sokolov appears, standing over them.
Sokolov: Kanti! He'll take care of her. I need you with me. (to others) Listen up! There's an Ork cannon just a little up the road. It's tearing up the beach – we’re gonna stop it. Let's roll!
Kanti looks back down at Rei, who’s reaching out to her. Kanti takes her hand for a moment.
Kanti: Just stay alive, okay?
For a moment, with Rei on the very edge of death, little flickers of her memories flash before Kanti’s eyes. We see her mother telling her she’s a disappointment, Rei sitting in a prison cell, and then being told by a recruiting officer that “the Army’s running out of men – we need some ladies ready to be heroes.” Then Kanti returns to lucidity and Rei’s face.
Rei: I promise.
Their hands part and Kanti stands, grabbing a rifle, and joins the rest of the squad.
Sokolov: Check your ammo and grenades!
Khand: You heard him! Up the road, now!
Kanti and the rest of the squad move out of the top of the bunker, along a field pock-marked with craters, then go onto a dirt road leading towards a farm.
Kanti: Moving up!
Khand: Let's move!
Sokolov: Be ready – these Orks don’t look like the surrendering type!
You keep moving up the road, finding some dead cows as you go.
Khand: Move fast! They're shelling the beach to shit!
You reach the target – a machine-gun nest is set up in a half-destroyed farmhouse and starts shooting at you as you appear.
Sokolov: MG in the hay loft! Take cover and take it out!
After taking out the machine gun, you keep moving up to fight Orks among the farmhouses and hay bales. A large artillery cannon is in the centre and you move to clear it and secure the area, moving in a couple of the farmhouses to do so.
Adlai: Where’s all the civilians?
Khand: In the Ork’s stomachs, probably!
Once you’ve cleared everything, silence seems to fall.
Soldier: Orks coming in from the south! A lot of them!
Sokolov: They’re gonna try to retake the cannon! We gotta hold this position!
Khand: Not a step backwards!
The squad defends the position as a couple waves of Orks swarm towards them. You can use the machine gun posts in the upper floors of the farmhouses to help fight them off.
Adlai: There’s too many of them!
Khand: Hold! Have courage!
Still the Orks swarm the field to the south – until explosions start to blow them away. Termite tanks appear from the left, their 45mm guns tearing through the Orks, which are either slaughtered or flee.
Tao: Our boys are coming in!
Adlai: Look at them scatter!
Sokolov: Alright, everyone. We mopped them up good. I don’t think they’ll be back.
Khand: Clear! Destroy that cannon!
Kanti goes to the cannon and crouches down behind it. An Imperial soldier appears next to her.
Soldier: Thermite!
The soldier carries a number of thermite charges inside his helmet like a bucket and empties them out in front of Kanti. Kanti lights one of them.
Kanti: Fire in the hole!
Everyone backs away – you probably should too – and the thermite explodes. The cannon is destroyed.
Sokolov: Excellent work, Kanti. Alright, everyone, rally on me to the assembly point. Khand, I'll need a casualty report. We lost so many.
Khand: But we took the beach.
Sokolov: What a price.
At the rally point, Rei is on a stretcher on the ground, a cigarette in her mouth as Tao is knelt next to her.
Rei: Kanti...
Rei tries to sit up and Tao puts out a hand to encourage her to lay back down. Given the pain on Rei’s face, that’s probably a good idea.
Tao: Man, I thought I'd seen everything…
Kanti: She gonna be okay?
Tao: Yeah. They taped her up pretty good.
Rei: I should’ve stayed on the boat.
Tao: Oh, now she tells us.
Kanti: Hey, what you did back there… I owe you. Big time.
Rei: I’d say we're even.
Kanti: We'll see this through.
Rei smiles.
Rei: To the end. I guess.
Kanti: Whenever that may be.
Sokolov and Khand walk by behind Rei; Sokolov addresses everyone. Kanti glances up at them, then back at Rei, who just gives her a knowing nod, then stands as she looks back at their superiors.
Sokolov: Beachhead's secured. We'll bivouac at the second hedgerow after the ridge. It’s not over, everyone.
Behind them, a couple of dead Orks are being examined. Adlai is taking photos of one while a soldier gently kicks the head of another.
Soldier: Stop kicking it.
Soldier #2: I don’t wanna.
Khand regards Kanti. There’s blood in his beard.
Khand: Welcome to the Smiling Sixty Sixth. You're a long way from home, farm girl.
Khand walks off. Sokolov watches Kanti, then approaches when Khand is out of earshot.
Sokolov: That’s his way of saying he’s grateful. You did well. Not bad for your first day.
Kanti: Thanks, sir. I, uh…
Sokolov puts a hand on Kanti’s shoulder.
Sokolov: You'll be alright, child.
Kanti: Yes, sir.
Sokolov pats her shoulder, nods, then walks off. Kanti looks down at her hands, covered in dirt and blood, which hold each other before slowly separating.
Kanti: Course I will.
The level ends.

TL:DR at the end.
This is a long post, so strap yourselves in. Throwaway account due to confusion in passwords.
My mom (49F) and my dad (50M) have been divorced for 2/3 years now. I made a post about this before of how my mom dealt with that on my main.
During the divorce, she tried to blackmail me (19F) and my younger sister (17F) into disliking and distrusting my dad. This failed, and thus, she tried to guilt us into it instead.
She brought up how my dad abused her, pushed her down the stairs, in 2009, when I was 5 years old, and some more stuff about how he has blatant favoritism towards my younger sister.
This has been proven untrue, the favoritism, as he was too focused on me becoming 18 and dealing with the stress of the divorce, work, the house, and my grandparents during covid.
When me and my sister and I brought up the abuse, he admitted it to be true and never did anything like it ever again, which, when asked my mom, was also true.
We live full time with my dad, whereas my sister broke off all contact with my mom until she gets a formal apology for the trauma she's caused.
I still see her every now and again. My sister and I both have trauma. Being locked in her boyfriend's house from 9 AM to 5 PM or so without permission to grab food in the blazing summer and no open windows, my dog being tied to a pole outside when wet and shaking when we tied him loose, and constantly being told our money would get stolen by my dad and how terrible of daughters we were to her, etc.
Her boyfriend, (50-ishM), is a tall guy. He looks and talks like a sociable guy and looks honest and trustworthy.
We met him around the beginning of the divorce, the guy who my mom cheated on my dad with.
He tried to win us to his friendly side by giving us the food we wanted and cooking sushi with me. But he had comments about my sister's weight, which caused her to break contact soon after a year.
It wasn't until the last time my sister and I went together that we saw his true colors.
My sister hates being confronted about her weight, mostly because she's always been coddled about it. When confronted, she starts crying.
I tried to shift the subject by talking about how the first few court sessions went, mentioning how my grandpa told me he thought my mom's boyfriend was following him.
It was on camera, and I'd seen the footage, so I know it was true. He denied that he did anything and got mad at me. Really mad.
My mom sat there as her boyfriend stood up, towered over us, and screamed on our face about how my family was lying and he would never pull something like that, and that I'd better think twice before accusing him of stalking.
Both me and my sister were crying at this point, as I have trauma from being yelled at.
My mom sat there and did nothing. No words of comfort, no telling him get away, not even getting rid of his demeanor.
That was the last time my sister went, and they demanded to see her alone multiple times. She refused to do so and hasn't had contact since except for a few text fights.
I stayed home for a while after that too, focusing on school and stuff. We haven't seen my grandparents on my mom's side since covid started.
That was also the last time my mom took us anywhere outside of her boyfriends house.
Every time I was told that we were going somewhere, it was at his house. Never anywhere I felt safe anymore.
But when I asked, he was always there. I haven't felt comfortable since, but I kept going to her because she's my mom.
I felt obligated to go. She raised me for 16 years, I have to.
Our relationship stayed rather wobbly. Like a thin rope.
During the years, my mom's boyfriend went after my dad. Trying to steal money using the court, breaking in and stealing our house keys, deleting all of our baby pictures from the photo drive, and breaking the window by our door and denting the car.
Driving in front of the house, parking his car in ways my dad had no way out of the parking lots, following him around and threatening him in the grocery store.
Mind you, my mom was at every one of these situations and did nothing.
My dad let it go and made peace with it a few weeks ago. It took him a long time to accept mom wasn't the same woman he knew anymore. Especially because he still loved her during the divorce. I'm not sure if he still does.
My grandparents on my dad's side see the difference and are extremely disappointed in her.
We reported him for stalking multiple times and had to hang cameras by our doors to feel safe, which we eventually never did.
There was a time during winter where I got up early to go to school and discovered footsteps in the snow of our backyard. Leading to our door.
Safe to say I was terrified. I went to school that day feeling like I was being watched. This took a few weeks to get rid of.
I'm glad I discovered them and not my sister though. But my dad went through a lot with this divorce. So much so that even after my mom's boyfriend got reported to the police and got multiple warnings, my dad felt so unsafe in his own house we moved.
We found a place we finally felt we could start over, but due to the stalking behavior I was told not to say anything about the house or the move.
I obliged, not wanting to talk about it either.
To my shock, they already knew. Over the course a few weeks of me playing dumb, my moms boyfriend knew exactly where we were moving to, when we were moving out, and when we would pay off our old house.
He works in the field with marketing houses and stuff.
They called me pathetic that I couldn't speak freely to them and that being ordered not to talk about where her kids were going was like a kidnapping.
Another note, they like to drink wine.
There was a green wine bottle shattered in the backyard. Chardonnay. I stepped in a big piece with my bare foot. No wounds, but it hurt.
It was him, 100%. I know it was, because when I brought up I got hurt by a glass shard, my mom glanced at him with a worried expression.
Last week I went again, this time my mom opened up about how she felt that because of my lying I didn't see her a my mom anymore.
I do still see her as my mom and I still love her as my mom. But the trauma she inflicted on me and her refusal to listen made me feel horrible about not going.
Thats when I found the deeper worry.
My hairdresser likes to gossip and keep me and my dad updated, since all of our neighbors go to the same hairdresser.
Our neighbors and all of my moms friends, around the middle of the divorce, were asked to spy on my dad. They refused, and so my mom cut them out her life.
Her boyfriend started threatening them, saying they were never true friends if they wouldn't do that.
My mom's boyfriend is an emotionally manipulative narcissist.
She doesn't see it, because she cut all her friends because he said so. He's brainwashed her into his circle.
Even his friends think he's a self centered asshole.
He's very well known around the town as a woman abuser and narcissist who can't do anything wrong himself, but people put up with him because of his temper.
If I tell my mom anything, she's going to tell her boyfriend. I'm going to get people in trouble, and no matter what I do, I'm going to get the blame set on my dad, me, or anyone else in the family who has nothing to do with it.
I am terrified of her boyfriend, and I want my mom back. The mom that actually cared for me and my sister.
The mom who would never accept her boyfriend scarring her children.
There is much more that happened in between with my sister and her, but that might be for another time.
I want to break them up, but I have no idea where to begin. I can't talk to my mom and I can't go to the cops because I have no proof but a few people with statements who I'm barely friends with.
How can I make my mom see that he's bad for him? Or should I let her figure it out?
My boyfriend thinks she sit in the hole she dug and deal with it. He hates seeing me losing and gaining trust in my mom like a lost puppy, and I get where he's coming from.
I just don't want to leave my mom there, because I know I stop going to her, he'll have full control over her. And that's something I'll never allow such an asshole to do.
Any advise is welcome, I need the help. Also sorry if this became a bit unclear at the end, I was crying writing this.
TL:DR
My mom's boyfriend is emotionally manipulative and a narcissist and brainwashed her into believing everything is my dad's fault. I want to break them up.

https://imgur.com/a/X5HmKMA
Disclaimer I am an extreme amatuer when it comes to landscaping and construction. My wife and I had this idea to create a little relaxation spot in our yard last year with some hammocks, flowers, plants, and ample shade. Our goal was to have a little getaway from the hot sun during the Summer. We want it to look nice and also provide substantial shade and this is where we are running into lack of ideas on how to proceed. As you can see in the pictures, I originally hung string and lights from the top corner of the house and then put a mesh shade covering over the top. You can also see that it is pretty ugly looking. It is functional and provides some shade, but we want to improve the look because from the outside looking in, it looks like the work of an 8 year old. In fact, I am going to take it down due to pure hideousness. My initial thought to remediate this issue would be to run beams from the main post to the 4 outer posts and then lay some type of covering over that, but I am nervous that the final look would not be any better. I would like advice on what would be best to use to provide better shade after adding the beams or if there is a different design I should think of. You will also notice that if you are looking at the right entryway (from outside the hammock area) there is a space between the house and post that the sun penetrates and will burn your eyes out if you lay in that outside hammock. What could we do there that would block out the sun? If anyone has any recommendations about that we are open to ideas, any help is appreciated. I can provide more information if needed. Thanks in advance! less

I am constantly miserable. I'm just functioning. But, I have no one, which is making this all worse. I really, badly, just need a chance to vent and get it all out. Please don't comment if you are just going to make me feel worse. No comments at all are fine. I just need to get it out.
My life has been unfortunate. It could have been worse. It could have been better. But for many many years now it has just been nothing but stress, disappointment, and frustration. I have reached a point where I no longer have anything to get me excited for the future, nothing to look forward to, this is just my life now and I'm trying to figure out how to be okay with that.
Years ago my children were still young and sweet. They loved me. Every time they saw me they were happy and I was a good and active mom. I went back to school. I did well in school. I started working outside the home again. I wasn't in phenomenal shape but I was at least average and could do this like take my kids to the pool. I had such high goals and dreams for myself. I knew I just had to work hard and I was ready! I have always had strong work ethic.
But, everything has been an unfortunate series of events ever since with very little happiness in between. My career and school goals were totally derailed. Originally my husband was studying for an additional certification that would have made major changes for us. But, he decided to "let me" have my time in school instead. He ended up having a bad accident and was bedbound or close to it for many years afterward. It became impossible for me to finish my original career path and school AND work AND keep up with the kids, house, pets, yard, etc. So, I settled for a lesser certification and not an additional degree so I could focus on family.
I found a job that I was in love with. They made me think I was going to go so far. Constantly told me I was their "star employee". I loved my position. But, I quickly started to see the overturn rate, that management gossiping a lot, and that it was a toxic environment to work in. I still tried. I tried SO hard. I was a great employee. I really wanted to prove that I could be the employee tough enough to take it and still shine. But when someone else at work grabbed me "as a joke" and then I was belittled for going to management about it and told I encouraged it? It was time to quit. Really, I don't think my mental health has ever recovered from my time there.
I quit my job. I went to work in a different type of environment hoping it would give me a positive change. I hated it. LOATHED it. I was good at it but I hated every moment of it. After my husband was walking again and able to help with the kids I brought up going back to school. I shifted my focus since my health won't let me work the way I used to. I worked really hard... only to find that my chosen degree won't get me anywhere in my state. Due to all my state guidelines I basically do not have a degree that relates that anything I would be happy doing.
Currently, I went back to work at the place I was last content. I can't stretch as far as saying, "happy". Those days still had struggles. It isn't the same. I know I eventually need to find another job but I have no idea where to look or what to do. I feel like I can't find anything and whatever recruiters are contacting me for pays terrible and I know I would be so unhappy doing. I have 0 direction. No idea what to do. I can't work part-time forever.
My kids are growing. They don't want to spend time with mom anymore unless I'm giving them money or taking them somewhere. I try to have fun and joke around with them like we used to and they just get irritated with me now. I lost all my friends. How could I not? It has been years since I have been able to go do "fun" things. My responsibility level was too high. I have no one to talk to. I used to call one of my parents but now they are dying so that really isn't an option and also another huge source of stress.
My physical and mental health are greatly deteriorating. It is getting harder and harder to just live day to day. I'm a robot just completing actions with no real goal. Once my husband was healthy I encouraged him to get out and about since he was stuck for so long. I was worried about the quality of his life. He is back working out, has lost a tremendous amount of weight, he is buying himself new name brand clothes, has new hobbies, goes out with friends, and has continued to recieve raises and promotions at work on a steady basis. Although, admittedly he hates his current position. But, constantly reminds me of interviews or offers he has from other countries and the significant salaries that will go with it.
I try to open up to him about how I'm feeling and he gets mad. He gets frustrated with me. He snaps or yells and tells me to stop making him feel guilty for having a life. That I CAN go out. I CHOOSE not to. Even though I keep trying to remind him that I don't have any friends to do things with. He throws out names of people that I barely know, haven't spoken to in years, or his friend's wives like they would just immediately accept me. If I'm frustrated about work he tells me to just suck it up and find a position, get experience, and figure the rest out later. That he makes enough money anyway so I can take the pay cut. Or when he's really mad, "God, you need help."
I have put on weight. I look disgusting. Most days I'm embarrassed to even be seen in public because I have just let myself go so bad. I panic having to go to events, especially with people I know, trying to seem "normal" at events puts me in a depression for days. I have managed to only have to go places once or twice a year. Mainly just things like funerals. I can't stand that people can just look at me and know that I am a failure in life. I don't want people to ask me how I'm doing, how is school (I didn't tell anyone I graduated because I'm embarrassed by my degree), how is my marriage, how are my kids, how is work? I don't have a good answer for any of it. I just try to do the basic hugs and hello and then find a way to put myself back in a corner and try not to be noticed or put the focus on the other person.
My house is falling apart and I'm struggling to keep up with the home repair but we can't afford to have other people come fix stuff. My mind just isn't good. I can't take most medications because of my health issues. I take what I can. I take supplements. My job is physical. I'm trying to get back into working out but my family is always around and I'm too embarrassed to work out in front of them. I cook healthy meals. I have leftovers available. I have a music Playlist that I listen to that helps me get through my emotions or at least let's me cry because I fight crying so much. My sex life is definitely going downhill. He has a million excuses why when I can tell the reason is just that he is sick of me.
I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm hopeless. I have 0 idea what to do. Therapy does not work for me. I have tried it so many times and it routinely makes me feel significantly worse than better. I have tried to join groups to make friends and just end up with creepy dudes wanting to talk and within 5 lines it is just sex. I try to plan going out but can't find anyone to go with. Any time for "hobbies" is spent doing home repair.
Like... what do I do? How do I get back having hope this will get better? I know things aren't getting better from here. At the age that I'm at in not going to magically become more pretty. Even if I do exercise I'm never going to be "thin". No, I can't go back to school again. We physically cannot afford it again. I can't force my children to spend time with me. I can't fault my husband for being sick of being stuck with the ugly, depressed, burr of a wife he has stuck to him, which is why I encourage him to go do things away from me. I can keep chipping away at my house, but that is just chores. I'm basically just trying to fix it up well enough to sell. I listen to Hz frequency music for mood elevation. I try to watch funny animal videos or save funny memes.
I don't know what to do. I'm just lost. I'm just tired of being me.

This post is about a couple of older and elderly women who vanished without a trace. I wanted to include women who disappeared without much of an explanation. When elderly people go missing, their disappearances can often be chalked up to a dementia-related event. I believe many elderly people who vanished with their cars may be in the bottom of lakes and rivers. Those who lived near wilderness may have gotten lost and died of exposure. Those who were picked up or hitchhiked could've been brought to a hospital where they were unable to communicate their true identity. The women I included went missing under more suspicious circumstances.
Mayme Hart Johnson - Disappeared June 12th, 2000 from Nashville, Tennessee.
Mayme is the first on the list and the reason I decided to do this post. On June 12th, 2000, Mayme Hart Johnson, a local historian, researcher, and teacher went missing from Nashville, Tennessee. Mayme, who was 85, lived in the 100 block of Bosley Springs Road in West Nashville with her son, Sam, in his apartment. At 6:30 am that morning, her son woke to find his mother gone. While he reported that he wasn't initially concerned because Mayme occasionally left the apartment around that time, he became alarmed when she didn't return by lunchtime. Where Mayme would go/what she would do at that time is not known. Richland Creek is close by to the apartments, but from what I've seen, it's narrow and a body would probably soon be found if it was in there, despite it being 28 miles long. Of course, there is always a chance she made it into a larger body of water that concealed her. A maintenance man from the Johnson's building told authorities that he had seen Mayme at 6:30 am the day she went missing. This was around the time Sam woke up. Whether this employee saw her outside the building, inside the building, near or on her apartment floor, or down the street is not mentioned. At the time of her disappearance Mayme was 5'5, 120 pounds, with brown eyes and gray hair, and last seen wearing pink pants and a pink blouse. Whether these were pajamas or not (possibly indicating a dementia-like episode, where she got up out of the house and left without telling her son or getting dressed) is, like many things in this case, unknown. Mayme, as I mentioned, was a historian and if you google her name you will find a few sites that show her body of work. In 1986, she published "A Treasury of Tennessee Churches". A search for Mayme was conducted in the Nashville area and extended to Huntingdon, TN, where her husband's grave was, and where she had been visiting the weekend before she vanished. There was also an aerial search of Eastern Maury County that took place in July 2000 after law enforcement came up with a theory that she could be a target of the I-65 rapist. I'm not sure where police got this idea from. The I-65/Days Inn Killer, now identified as Harry Edward Greenwell, murdered three hotel clerks (ages 21, 24, 34) in the late 1980s. He also sexually assaulted a 21 year old hotel clerk in 1990. While LE does believe he's connected to more violent crimes, I'm not sure how they link Mayme to him--if you know, please add your knowledge in the comments. After the aerial search, nothing was found linking anything to Mayme. In 2008 she was declared deceased.
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Helen Joyce Rawley - disappeared June 4th, 2003 from College Park, Maryland
Helen Joyce Rawley lived in a bungalow on the 4600 block of Knox Road in College Park, Maryland with her son. 75 year old Helen went by her middle name "Joyce" so that is how I'll refer to her. Seventy-five year old Joyce and her son, Tom, had lived together since the death of Joyce's husband of 48 years, Nelson, in 2001. Between 6:45 and 7:00 am on June 4th, 2003, Joyce was last seen by her tenant, a man who had rented a room at the Rawley home for the last eight years. Joyce was seen by him on her porch that morning as he returned home from work. Beginning the day after her husband died in February 2001, Joyce suffered two strokes four days apart. Because of the strokes, she was unable to talk and considered disabled because of her inability to communicate. In 2002, Joyce underwent chemotherapy and radiation for rectal cancer. She was on medication that made her tired and weak. She didn't go out anywhere by herself except to get the mail. Her mind remained "sound", according to her son. The day she went missing, her son returned home from his foreman job at 3:30 pm, and found the house empty with the lights off. Joyce's purse and wallet remained left behind in her bedroom, everything was in place, and there were no signs of a robbery. Police tracked Joyce's scent out the front door which she never used, and to the corner of the block. However, she went missing on a "rain-soaked" and "dreary" day and it's possible the bad weather could've washed away any more of her scent outside. Since the death of her husband who died unexpectedly in his sleep, and her two other sons who died together in a 1982 boating accident, Joyce's immediate family consisted of her remaining child Tom, who was unmarried and childless at the time of his mother's disappearance. If she had other family out of the area is unknown. She does have a beach house in Annapolis, Maryland, but had not visited there after she went missing. She was 75 when she disappeared, standing between 5'4-5'5 and 110 pounds. Due to her cancer, she wore a colostomy bag and was on several medications that she can't go long without. Fliers with Joyce's information went out, woods were searched, local bus drivers were notified and questioned if they had seen her, and hospitals had been checked. A helicopter flew over the city at night with a heat-detecting device. No sight of her was ever found. She had brown eyes and white hair and was last seen in a sweatshirt and slacks. She enjoys gardening, crossword puzzles, and reading. Police don't suspect foul play and Tom isn't considered a suspect (neither is the tenant who was the last to see her), but they aren't sure what could've happened.
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Maebell Dawson - disappeared January 3rd, 1998 from Jefferson Township, Ohio
68 year old Maebell Dawson had lived in a one bedroom apartment on the 2nd floor of the Martin Luther Manor Living Center on Liscum Drive for about a year when she went missing. Maebell was divorced, had two daughters, and had retired from a hospital housekeeping job two years prior. Maebell was close to her family, and when calls to reach her went unanswered for two days, by January 5th, her residence was checked. Nothing in the second-story apartment was missing or out of place. Her winter coat was draped over a chair, her wallet, credit cards, cash, and a check for rent dated 1/8/98 were all found in her purse on the table. Her bank account was never accessed again. There were no signs of forced entry, a struggle or robbery inside the apartment. LE does not believe Maebell was attacked from her apartment or lured from the premises, but they do believe foul play was involved. According to CharleyProject, suicide "has not been ruled out but has been deemed unlikely". In 1998, Maebell was between 5'4 - 5'6 and 180 pounds. She had brown eyes and gray hair, wore glasses, and was last seen in a tan jogging suit. She was last seen entering her apartment at 9:30 pm on January 3rd. Five and a half years after her disappearance, Maebell was declared legally dead.
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Norma Mae Maynard - disappeared February 3rd, 1979 from Boone, Iowa.
Norma Mae Maynard went missing in early February of 1979, just two weeks after the unexpected death of her husband, Carl, on January 19th. Norma and Carl had been married for three decades and Norma was deeply grieving the loss. Norma lived with her 30 year old son, and he was the last to see his mother. He stated that shortly before noon on February 2nd, he found a note from his 61 year old mother that stated she was on her way to Los Angeles, not to look for her, and that she'd get in touch again someday. The validity of this note (if seen by LE, if handwritten analysis was performed, etc) is not known. Norma's purse and a few items of clothing were missing, but her checkbook and jewelry were left behind. There was no sign of a break-in at the house. Her husband's pension which she lived off of and her bank account with savings was not touched. Norma was a shy woman who spent most of her time at home and had a regular routine. She didn't drive and her brothers stated that she had never been more than a few miles from her hometown. Her husband's funeral bill was paid for by a check dated four days after she vanished and signed by "Mrs. Carl Maynard". According to Charley Project, "The signature appeared to match Maynard's handwriting, and her son said she had signed a blank check and left it with him to fill in and pay the bill". The validity of this is not known either. A sighting of a woman matching Norma's description was seen by a local Greyhound bus station employee. The woman was boarding a bus bound for Los Angeles. Police are not sure of the accuracy of this sighting and consider it "shaky". Norma didn't drive but she didn't normally travel by bus, and why she allegedly went to Los Angeles is unknown: she had no friends or family there. Norma's son was not considered a suspect in her case, though some members of her family believe he was involved in her disappearance. He has maintained his innocence and has since moved out of state. Norma was 5'3 tall and weight 175 pounds, with blue eyes and gray hair. If she was alive today, she'd be 105. I believe someone close to her knows what happened and made up the story about her leaving for California. My second theory would be suicide, and she made up the California story so her family wouldn't worry.
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Yu Chin Goodson - disappeared March 25th, 2005 from Russellville, Franklin County, Alabama.
Yu Chin Goodson is one of the youngest on my list, and at 57, I wouldn't classify her as elderly, but she is an older woman with a lot of mental and physical issues, who went missing under mysterious circumstances like these other women. Yu Chin is an Asian woman suffering from paranoid schizophrenia, diabetes, and a heart problem which required daily medication. In 2005, she was living in group home for patients with mental disabilities in Russellville, Alabama. On March 25th, 2005, a witness claimed to see Yu Chin enter a small, older grey or silver car with a loud muffler. The car was headed toward the Decatur, Alabama area, which is where her son lives. Staff at the group home were informed that Yu Chin was gone, and within 15 minutes of her disappearance, the police were notified and a search for Yu Chin began. No trace of her was ever found. Her son, who lives in the Decatur area, was never contacted by his mother. There has been no mention of foul play, and authorities believe she could currently be homeless and living in shelters. At the time of this write up, she has been missing for almost twenty years and would be around 75 if still alive.
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Barbara B. Blount - disappeared May 2nd, 2008 from Holden, Louisiana
Barbara B. Blount was a 58 year old widow who lived on the same road as her children, kept in regular contact with her family and friends, and was active in her local church. It came as a surprise one morning when her nephew came over to visit her residence in rural Livingston Parish, Louisiana, and Barbara was nowhere to be found. A neighbor had just spoken to her over the phone, and Barbara had said she was cleaning out her kitchen cabinets. By the time her nephew had arrived for a visit, the front door was wide open, Barbara's phone was lying on the floor with the battery pulled out, her car was gone, and Barbara was missing. Besides for the unusual circumstances in the home, police didn't find any proof of forced entry. A few hours later in the late afternoon, the silver four door 2006 Toyota Camry Barbara owned was found a quarter of a mile from her home. It was found 25-30 yards off the main road and out of sight, hidden by trees. No trace of Barbara was discovered, baffling friends and family who described Barbara as a cautious individual who carried a gun when she went outside to milk the cows and didn't open the door to strangers. Waterways and woods were searched in attempt to find Barbara, but nothing was ever found.
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edit: ooof messed up the title.

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