Crusader Kings 3 Vassals can rarely pose a direct threat to you, but lets discuss how they can become a real threat - Factions. Alone they are a nuisance but together they are wolves circling the bear. The biggest danger to your game comes from internal conflict as a civil war can not only split your Realm apart, but also present a weakened target for your neighbours. Patch 3.0 was released on 2018-11-13.It was released alongside the Holy Fury expansion.. Expansion Features. Added Shattered World system, where the world is initially populated by small realms, with a large variety of configuration options, including randomized cultures, religions, and dejure kingdoms and empires Patch 2.6 (Reaper's Due) Notes: What They Actually Mean. Close. 904. Posted by. The Fylkirate. 3 years ago. Archived. Patch 2.6 (Reaper's Due) Notes: What They Actually Mean. Thanks to /u/spez, you bitches owe me karma for these now. BOW TO YOUR OVERLORD. ... Crusader Kings II is an historical grand strategy video game for PC and Mac published ... This being a portrait of medieval Europe, Crusader Kings 3 has a lot to say about Religion.Medieval life was full of controversy and power struggles between the faiths and you'll regularly see rulers and counties embrace the newest must-have heresy. In this guide we will look at the basic aspects of religion that you need to know, and take a peek at the Doctrines that live in the background of ... This happens a lot. I also wrote Crusader Kings Chronicles on PC Gamer, which got a lot of people into the game. I keep joking that I should just change my name legally to Crusader Kings Chronicles von Patch Notes McLoreswarm. Patch 2.7 (Monks and Mystics) Patch Notes: What They Actually Mean ##### Expansion Features ##### Join Societies to gain different bonuses and access to a wide set of various powers, each unique to the different types of Societies! ... Crusader Kings is a historical grand strategy / RPG video game series for PC, Mac & Linux developed ... Crusader Kings 3's Update 1.0.3 is now live, its patch notes revealing a smaller first set of post-launch fixes.. More specifically, CK3 Update 1.0.3 introduces fixes for issues pertaining to the game's Succession system. "Independent from this patch, we have pushed a potential fix for Steam users that couldn’t fire up the game. Added new Crusade event chains that let you persuade Christian warriors to attack Constantinople, and they actually go for it, the absolute madmen! Event chain that allows unaccompanied minors to get in on the fun of mass, sectarian religious violence. Patches and hotfixes are free updates for Crusader Kings III, though there they are different in purpose: . Patches fix many bugs and/or implement balance tweaks. They are sometimes released alongside a new, major DLC; when this occurs a portion of the DLC's features are usually shipped as part of the coinciding free patch, thus made available to anyone who has the base game.
2020.09.29 00:29 AsaTJ Hidden camera in dressing
2020.09.27 11:33 WohjiInvestigate I can not say if the creature I saw on the subway this morning was there to harm me or warn me, all I know is that I do not want to see it again.
I began my morning like I always do. My routine of brushing my teeth, showering, making my bed and getting dressed. Sitting at the table of my apartment for whatever time I had before I needed to leave for work and catch the subway train.
This has been my routine for the last year that I have held my position at a large and well-known accounting firm in the city. The only thing about my morning that differs from any morning before it, is the sheer weight of the desire to not wake up in the first place. Every morning, I feel as though I have to push harder than before to get myself out of that bed, and stay on the path of normalcy. I finish up my bagel and coffee, and check the time on my phone. It is five minutes before I need to leave, and I decide that instead of continuing browsing social media aimlessly like I would normally do to fill this time, that I will go to the bathroom mirror. I read somewhere online, in a passing post, that forced smiling at yourself in the mirror activates a placebo effect. In doing this, it was shown that your mood would be better for the rest of the day. I spent the minutes looking at myself. I was wrapped up in a nicely fitted and clean suit. A tie hung from my neck, and a warm smile beamed across my face. If there was anything that could truly be gained from this, I would need it for the day ahead of me.
My walk to the station was much like any other. It wasn’t a long walk, but it was long enough for any residual sleepiness to fall off of me. I walked to the tune of indie rock playing into my ears. This shut off both the natural sounds around me and the unnatural, mechanistic ones as well. I passed many people on my walk, some of whom were dressed similarly to myself. I wondered how many of them had any other similarities to me, or my way of thinking. After resting with this thought and my music, I reached the stairway that led to the underground station. Amongst a crowd of bustling people, none of them smiling at their prospective trip on the crowded commute; I made my way down the final escalator to reach my station. As I stood patiently, I looked over the passing advertisements on the wall and let my mind wander. A coming wave of dread rose and became apparent in my conscious mind. My job was not a bad one; it was a well-paid and dependable job, something not everyone in this city had. But it was boring and it felt as though it was draining my soul. My recent deterioration in mood was in no doubt partly attributable to this. I fought back light tears and forced a smile in my reflection in the metallic walls I passed. It must not have worked properly earlier.
The train I was waiting for arrived approximately on time. I stood on the platform, waiting for the doors to open, and felt the pressure of the crowd building behind me. I was only moments away from being packed in the tight confines with them. The air around me became warmer and I could hear the foreboding sound of the approaching train. I watched it exit from the tunnel and slow down to a stop in front of the crowd. I was in tune with the anticipation flowing from the bodies around me, and prepared to step forward. I took one last look to my side, to see the platform and the escalator I had arrived on. As I did so, the doors of the train opened. I prepared to enter the train.
What was that?
I paused. In my momentary glance, I had seen something. Something greatly out of place. I looked again, and for the first time, I saw him in full concentration. He was very tall, looking to be 7 feet at minimum. He had large, bulging eyes, and antennae sprouting out from his insect like mouth. I couldn’t accurately describe what insect it was, but it looked as though someone had an incredibly realistic, full body insect suit, and was just standing at the base of the escalator. He was to the side of the escalator, allowing people to pass. I was beginning to feel a flurry of complex emotions even in this instant. No one other than me seemed to even notice him. I couldn’t tell, but I felt like his large bug eyes were trained on me. Like the tiny seta covering his body, I felt the hairs rise all over my body. I was broken out of my paralysed trance by the people behind me, eager to get on the train. They pushed, and I instinctively moved with them, and boarded the train. Several seconds had passed now, and despite this, the insectoid man remained standing in the same position. I was still the only person to react to his presence, and I began to think that I was losing my mind. A fleeting thought arrived, telling me that this was the slip. The day that my mentally unwell and pressured mind cracks, and I descend into a psychotic episode.
I felt a motivation stronger than I had ever felt in my life, to discover the unknown. I disregarded any thoughts about work and pushed back through the crowd. I ignored the annoyed looks and gasps as I did so, just making it back onto the station as the doors closed behind me. Through the crowd of people, I could see that the insect had begun to climb the escalator. Beautiful wings that shined a fluorescent colour draped from his shoulders; and went unnoticed by those around him.
I made my way frantically in his direction. I followed in his path up the escalator as fast I could manage, but I was slowed by various other people. Despite my speed, I was too late. Upon reaching the top, I could only look in disbelief as I realised, I could not see him anywhere. I looked around desperately, checking every corner, every path, every toilet in the station. I wondered whether he had truly got away, or whether he was still here and I had become like everyone else, unable to see him. After checking above ground and coming back down, I noticed how I was getting worried looks from others, and that one of the security guards was beginning to look at me.
I was able to snap out of my obsessive craze from this, and made my way above ground for the final time. I sat in a nearby coffee shop, ordered a drink I had no interest inn and took a window seat upstairs, the most away from people. I sat, ignoring calls from work, and lay my head in my arms. My drink began to go cold. I thought to myself then, about how fucked I felt. I had let my depression go unchecked, confident that any and all dark thoughts would disappear if I ignored them long enough. If I buried them deep enough, they would not bother me, out of sight and out of mind after all. But now I was having a small breakdown in a coffee shop, and I had begun to hallucinate in vivid detail. Large, anthropomorphic insects were appearing on my commute to work for fuck’s sake. I kept my head pressed into my arms, letting the darkness encompass me.
If I can now see things that aren’t there, and I assume I will soon hear things that aren’t there;
Am I even safe in my own mind?
I remained in that coffee shop, and began to lightly sob into my arms as other customers flowed in and out.
This was all hours ago, early in the morning. It is hard to believe that this happened in the same day as today. I am currently sat a world away, in a concrete and metal cell in a police station. I am being held under suspicion of being involved in the bombing. The bomb that went off while I sat in that coffee shop, crying into my arms. It rocked me out of my self-loathing, even though it was some distance away.
I didn’t realise it then, but I was lucky. So lucky.
The carriage of the train that I was stood in, that I only escaped moments before the doors closed, had a I.E.D inside, hidden in a generic suitcase. Had I stayed in that carriage; I would have most likely died in the resulting explosion that occurred a few stations later, at a more central and busy station. I had been caught on camera, quickly exiting the carriage before it took off. I can be seen running away from the station, and there are accounts from witnesses on my suspicious activity.
I am awaiting questioning, and I have no idea what is going to happen to me now. But that is the least of my worries. The only thought that occupies my mind is him. That being that I saw, the thing that made me leave that carriage, and ultimately saved my life in the first place.
Did he intend to make it look like I did it?
Was he there to save me?
If so, why only me?
The thoughts bounce around to no end in this quiet cell. Survivors guilt, I think it’s called. That’s the only way I can describe my emotions. I keep thinking that if only other people had seen him, they could have lived. He could have chosen anyone else in that train to see him, to allow to follow him to safety. But no, he chose me. A worthless, pointless human; full of misery and sadness, unable to appreciate the gift of further life.
It is for this reason I can only assume that this ‘blessing’, is something much more sinister. I wonder whether seeing him caused the disaster. If he was a sign to sign that all the misery I felt would be dealt upon those who were around me.
All I can say, is that I’m terrified of seeing him again, and what that may mean for those around me. And if anyone else out there is like me, and can see him, you need to get out of wherever you are, and fast.
Some of the only hope I have left is that he is here only to warn us.
submitted by WohjiInvestigate to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.09.26 16:17 PeaceSim My friends and I are urban explorers who break into doomsday bunkers for the super wealthy. We snuck into one my father built, and we'd be lucky if any of us escape from it alive. [Part 4]
The service hatch opened to B4 – Manor. We arrived to find a tiny corridor containing electrical wires and a series of unmarked doors.
“Which one do you think leads to B5?” Joe asked.
I shrugged. Nicole picked one randomly, and we gathered around it with our weapons raised. Joe turned the handle and shoved it open.
Five uniformed men turned to face us with dumbfounded expressions. All had holstered weapons. We’d stumbled upon a security station.
“Wait -” I said. But it was too late. The men reached for their guns.
In the cacophony that followed, Nicole shot three of them dead. I got off one round with my pistol before Joe charged into my line of fire. He swung his fire ax deep into one of the men’s heads, pulled it out, and then used it to finish off the guard I’d wounded.
“Holy hell,” I said, looking over the carnage we’d created. Blood covered the walls and the screens of security monitors.
“Don’t act so shocked, Robyn,” said Nicole. “We saw what you did to the hunter upstairs. Now hand me your weapon.” She proceeded to fully load it using ammo she scavenged from the fallen guards and handed it back to me. Joe dropped his ax in favor of one of their firearms.
I looked over the feed on the monitors, which appeared to cover most of B4, though not the service corridor through which we had entered the room. The floor consisted primarily of large, well-furnished wooden walls lined by paintings – several of which portrayed my father posing like royalty. Multiple rooms housed densely-shelved collections of books. Men and women read from them, wrote, and appeared engaged in debate. The bedrooms for the residents here would have fit in in luxury hotels.
Hello Robyn, said the voice of my father’s primary clone over the intercom. You would do well to treat a city named after your own family with a bit more respect. I rolled me eyes.
No one in the video feed reacted, indicating that his voice projected only into the security station rather than the entire floor.
“Fuck off, dad,” I said. “I know what you did to our mother. You, and every one of the other stupid clones of you, are absolute fucking monsters.”
Do you feel that way about your brother, too? my dad responded. He is so similar to me, after all. He will be me soon, too.
“Mason isn’t like you,” I said. “He’ll never be like you.”
You sound awfully sure of yourself, sweetie. We’ll just have to see about that. Assuming you even make it to him.
“I’m feeling confident about our chances,” I said, looking over the blood-soaked room.
“Your little security station wasn’t much of an obstacle,” said Nicole.
My security personnel have had an unfortunately high mortality rate recently, conceded my dad’s clone. Though I do appreciate you exposing the hole in their monitoring system regarding the service access corridor. I'll have a camera added there before sending in a replacement team.
“Who are these guys living and working here anyway?” asked Joe.
A combination of the willing and the unwilling, said my father. I offered stock options to those who would agree to undergo a long-term test of this facility. Others volunteered out of interest alone. Others…were volunteered by me. I need to make sure this place is running as smoothly as possible when catastrophe falls. The only way to achieve that is with thorough testing.
“What’s the point of this floor?” I asked. “It looks like a bunch of people reading and writing. Let me guess: they’re looking into eugenics, or witchcraft.”
The manor houses the future intellectual elite, said my dad’s voice. It is a place for conducting research and cherishing the finest works of literature. But, my test run has not gone as smoothly as I’d hoped. I started with a broad group of thinkers – all people who supported the concept of a self-sustaining city, but with different ideas about how to achieve that. I thought there’d be strength in this measured diversity of thought, but I was wrong.
You’d be amazed just how quickly people’s ideologies can change. They began to demand that I implement better conditions for the laborers – back when the laborers were humans. They even encouraged the workers to organize. I can’t have that down here, now can I?
So, continued my dad, one by one, I had the so-called intellectuals sent down to B5 for doctor’s appointments. When they came back, their minds were…a bit more in-line with a superior set of ideals. They began to make progress again. If only I had invented the procedure years earlier, I could have similarly altered your mother’s psyche. She could have been of use, and I wouldn’t have needed to discard her.
I asked Joe for his ax and proceeded to strike the intercom speaker with it. *Now now, Robyn, don’t lose your temp-” The speaker sputtered and fell to the floor. The voice of my father’s primary clone cut out. “I’ve had enough of this shit,” I said.
A knock sounded on the door – not the one we’d entered, but one that seemed like a main entrance. I checked the monitor. A chubby, formally-dressed woman in a jacket and dress pants waited at the door. She looked unimposing, but we still had our guns drawn when we opened up.
“Wh-who are you? What are you doing here?” she stuttered.
“You tell us first,” said Nicole.
The woman gave her name as Georgia and explained she was waiting for a security escort to take her down to B5, citing that B4 had lost communications with it.
“How about you lead us there,” said Joe, “And we don’t kill you in return?”
She nodded anxiously.
Joe walked directly behind her, keeping his gun wedged into her back as we went. Nicole and I selected the jackets the guards had been wearing that had the fewest holes and bloodstains and partially covered our weapons with them as Georgia navigated through B4.
The denizens of the floor largely ignored us, rarely giving us more than a glance as they continued with their studies. There was something about their total focus on their work and the forceful way they carried themselves that resonated with me as familiar.
Finally, we stuffed into a small room that contained a hatch that led down to B5. “Will you let me go now like you said?” pleaded Georgia. She shook nervously, and I felt momentary sympathy for her. Could she be someone ‘volunteered’ by my father to live here?
“I’ll go down and make sure it works,” said Joe. “If it does, we’ll leave you tied up here.”
“You’ll need my keycard to access B5,” said Georgia. “Can I reach for it without one of you shooting me?”
“Don’t bother,” I said, tossing my card to Joe.
I continued to watch our prisoner as Joe descended. This lady seemed harmless, but I kept my gun on her all the same. Nicole threw off her jacket now that we were out of sight of the others and got down on her knees to view Joe’s progress.
“Is it really necessary to point that thing at me?” asked Georgia. “I’ve been a prisoner here for so long. All I want to do is leave. I can tell that’s what you want, too.”
“After what we’ve been through today, we’re not taking chances,” I said. “Don’t worry. This will all be over soon.”
“I can tell you’ve been through hell,” said Georgia. “If I were in your place, I’m sure I’d act the same way.” She took a seat against the wall.
“It works!” called Joe. “But something’s terribly wrong here.”
“What is it?” asked Nicole, peaking her head into the shaft to get a better look.
“Oh god!” cried Joe. “The Chindra, they’ve-” He screamed horribly.
“Joe!” I called, to no response. “We have to get down to him.”
Nicole nodded and got to her feet, only to immediately shriek in pain.
My concern for Joe had caused me to let my guard down. Georgia had used this moment to pull two syringes of yellow liquid out of her jacket and jam them into Nicole’s exposed shoulder blades. Nicole stumbled and collapsed against the wall.
Georgia dropped the syringes and drew a long knife. I leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding her as she charged at me with it. She grabbed at my gun, and my attempts to pull it back from her resulted in it falling out of my hand and down the open shaft to B5.
The situation had changed dramatically. Only a moment ago, my two friends had provided me some level of protection. Now, I was unarmed and fighting for survival, and I could only hope Joe and Nicole were still alive.
“How many people is it now who have died or who are about to die because of you?” said Georgia, holding the knife out in front of her. “Your dad was right about you. Your problem is that you’re always several steps behind those who are more intelligent. I figured Joe would meet with trouble down there. Three of the independent Chindras are on the loose wreaking havoc on B5 as we speak. There’s be a team of hunters down there to stop them, but you and your friends took that option off the table. It’ll take weeks before we can clone a new team.”
I realized where I’d already seen the mannerisms of the ‘intellectuals’ on B4. Of course, my dad wasn’t going to allow ‘intellectuals’ to work independently; to him, the only acceptable outcome is for everyone on this floor to think the same way that he thinks.
“Yes, you’re starting to understand,” said Georgia, reading my face. She cackled. “I find it so amusing, seeing you work things out when it’s already too late. We used our studies of the Chindra hivemind to make a few neurological alterations to me and the others living here. To get them to think similarly; to follow the path your father laid out for them and build upon his work. My thoughts used to be blurry; now I see the way forward with immense clarity.”
“What did you do to Nicole?” I asked.
“When I heard the commotion in the security station, I nabbed the closest weapons I could find that I could keep hidden on me,” said Georgia. “This knife, and two sedatives. One is enough to knock a grown man unconscious. Two? Probably deadly without medical treatment. But who knows. Different people react in different ways. Maybe your friend will live through the day. Or maybe she’s already dead.”
“I think not,” said Nicole. She shoved Georgia forward, causing Georgia to stumble into the shaft. Georgia’s head slammed violently into several steps of the ladder as she toppled to the floor.
Nicole coughed and vomited. I yanked the syringes out of her back. They were empty; Georgia had injected their entire contents into Nicole.
“Can you make it down the ladder?” I asked. It pained me to see the strongest of us so miserable and sickly.
She nodded. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. But we have to get Isha.”
I helped her through the painful process of descending down the ladder. We left her shotgun behind and proceeded with only my pistol, which I retrieved from the floor and stuck into my backpack.
Nicole wrapped her arm around my shoulder as we slowly hobbled through the entrance to B5.
“No,” sighed Nicole. “No no no.” Joe’s corpse lay on the floor in tatters as one of the Chindra ate from it. Its circular form rotated as each of its heads alternated taking bites from his flesh.
“Fuckin kill it,” muttered Nicole. It stopped chewing, took a look at us, and ran away before I could fish out my firearm. As it fled, it camouflaged and disappeared into the corridor ahead of us. “Help me go after it!” said Nicole.
“No, we have to focus on our goal,” I said. “Which isn’t revenge, but getting out of here with Isha and Mason as quickly as possible. If we do that, there’s a chance we can get to a hospital and save you.”
Nicole reluctantly acquiesced. I picked up Mason’s access card from Joe’s backpack as we hobbled through a long corridor. The flickering lights illuminated blood spatter and human bones.
We arrived at a sign pointing to the left for ‘Medical’ and to the right for ‘Reproduction’. So that’s what it meant by “Med/Rep”. We went to the right.
“Joe and Cheyenne…” mumbled Nicole. Her balance became increasingly worse as the sedative in her took on greater effect. It became exhausting to help her walk, but I refused to leave her behind. “What the fuck went wrong with your father? How could he do this to us?”
“I remember when mom died,” I said. “I was in the hospital waiting room with dad and Mason several hours north of town, near where she’d been hurt – near here, in fact. I think Mason was six then. When the doctor told us there was nothing they could do, Dad gave Mason a few words of sympathy and ran off for a business call. Mason asked me all sorts of questions about life and death and it took all my strength to stop myself from crying as I answered them. I was eleven, and I had to take on a parent’s responsibilities. After a while, I took Mason by the hand and led him outside to a little ice cream store down the street. That cheered him up a bit. When we got back to the hospital, dad had already gone home. He’d forgotten about the two of us completely.”
“Fucking hell,” said Nicole.
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s always been a complete sociopath. I think he thinks that he loves Mason. But I know that he really doesn’t.”
“He only loves this place, and that’s because it’s built in his own image,” said Nicole. “You and me had our own fantasy land once, remember? Our own headquarters to preside over? But we let it go and grew up.”
“‘Grew up’ is putting it generously,” I said.
“But still,” said Nicole. “It’s an odd thing to say, given the horrors we’ve witnessed, but there’s also something so childish about all this. Of course this place was never going to work, no matter how many equations your dad produced showing the opposite.”
I didn’t respond. Nicole needed to apply all her energy just to keep walking with my support.
We arrived at the door marked “Reproduction”. The room inside was humid and filled with steam emitted by a collapsed pipe. I realized we were standing in a scanning station like the one that had killed Cheyenne, but it had been torn apart such that many of the electronic components were out-of-place and shined their red beams onto the ceiling or the upper walls.
A distorted recording of my dad’s voice played on a damaged speaker system. It slowed and deepened his normally-smooth voice. The sound cut off irregularly.
Wel-Wel-Welcome to a lifetime of purpose and contribution. If you are hearing this, our scans have found you healthy and your ----- fertile, which makes you an ideal candidate for ------------- controlled procreation. Your participation is mandatory. But, do not worry. Our medical staff -------------- happily sedated throughout the process, and, upon successful childbirth, you will ---------------- two hours of freedom in the arboretum on B1, redeemable at any time approved by your doctor.
Nicole reached her hand into my backpack and withdrew something heavy from it.
Several options ---------------- impregnation are available. Our medical staff will happily discuss each of them with you. When you cease ----------------- contribute to the continuation of our people, you will also be able to choose between ------------------ efficient methods of liquidation. Now, relax, and-
Sparks flew off the wall as Nicole emptied my firearm into several speakers and an audio control system. She succeeded in cutting off the recording.
“Nicole, that was all the ammo we had!” I stammered.
She nodded vacantly, looking even sicker than before. She was barely conscious. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. Please, help me find Isha.”
We marched onwards even as flickering lights and the heavy mist obscured our vision. I heard something quietly moving out of our sight, likely Chindra attuned to our presence by the sound of the gunfire, as I guided Nicole over small piles of human bones and tattered clothing.
We reached a concrete wall that attached to a mounted fire extinguisher. It also contained a sign with arrows pointing in different directions to “Ladder to B6” and “Patients”. I directed Nicole to lean against it so that I could rest my aching shoulder. She slid to the ground and lay crouched against the wall.
As I recovered, a slithering sound rapidly approached us. I tore the fire extinguisher from the wall. All at once, a Chindra, its outer layer a misty gray, leapt out of the fog.
I swung the heavy extinguisher with all my might, making direct contact and sending it back into the mist. I heard it retreating, but felt little relief. It would be back.
I pulled Nicole up and hurriedly led her in the direction of “Patients”. We arrived at a series of glass rooms. Most contained a vacant hospital bed and medical equipment. The blood and guts of nurses and patients torn apart by the rogue Chindra dripped from the walls and ceiling of several of the rooms.
Finally, we arrived at one that, unlike the others, was sealed shut. A doctor watched us from inside. In the bed behind her was Isha, who was attached to an IV. She was dressed in a hospital gown and appeared semi-conscious.
“Don’t open the door!” said the doctor. “We’re only alive because those things can’t get through the reinforced glass. Who the hell are you? Are you the hunters sent to fight them?” She looked skeptically over our miserable selves.
I needed to act. I let Nicole down against the wall and removed her knife from her backpack. Ignoring the doctor’s pleadings, I hit a button that caused the glass door to slide open.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” said the doctor. “You’re going to get me and the patient killed!”
I charged and held the knife against the doctor’s throat. “Has the operation begun on her?” I said. “Answer me, or I’ll fucking kill you.”
Isha looked at me blankly through half open eyes. She started to make a half-smile, like she recognized me. Her arm wound was thoroughly bandaged.
“No, it hasn’t,” said the doctor, glancing down at my blade. I realized that if I’d made the same threat before arriving at Abernathy City, my target wouldn’t have believed that I’d go through with it. But, now, this doctor correctly realized that I’d slice into her neck without hesitation if she didn’t tell me what I wanted to know. I’d enjoy doing it, too, given what this doctor did here. “She was scheduled for artificial insemination later today. You should be grateful. We have treated her arm wound. It’s practically as good as new.”
“We’re taking her away,” I said. “Get her up and off whatever you’ve got running through her. And hurry.”
I maintained watch as the doctor slowly removed the IV from Isha and helped her to her feet. I needed to do a better job than I had with Georgia.
Isha staggered forward with the doctor’s help. Her composure started to return. She curiously felt her hospital gown and grew anxious as she soaked in her surroundings. “Robyn? You came for me.” She identified Nicole’s collapsed form through the glass and stumbled out to her.
Nicole remained conscious, but only barely. Isha cradled Nicole’s head and gripped her hand as they whispered to each other. As they reunited, I had the doctor stuff Isha’s clothes and other belongings from a drawer where they’d been left into my backpack.
I quickly explained to Isha what she’d missed, as well as how quickly we needed to move if we wanted to have any chance at saving Nicole’s life. “You,” I said to the doctor. “Can you, or the doctors in the medical wing, do anything to help Nicole?”
But it was too late. While I was talking with Isha, the doctor had snuck into one of the other glass rooms we’d passed that still had an open door. She promptly sealed it shut. I frantically hit at the outer button to open it but, unlike before, the door remained closed.
“Before entering, I turned off the outside controls,” she said. “You can override it, if you can guess the twelve-digit passcode. I’m staying here until this is over. And, to answer your questions, I could have helped her. In fact, I may have been her only chance; the rogue Chindra have likely annihilated the rest of the medical staff.”
I noticed that, contrary to my expectations, Isha had a vengeful smile. I looked inside the glass chamber and realized why. On the wall behind the doctor, the camouflage of a hidden Chindra started to change colors into its natural shade.
Isha and I held Nicole between us as we exited the hallway of horrors while the doctor’s screams echoed behind us.
We followed the sign to the hatch to B6, which I used Mason’s card to open. Nicole had passed out by this point, though she was still breathing and maintained a steady pulse. “We’ll have to carry her down,” I told Isha. “I’ll go first, and you can lower her to me.” When I was halfway down, Isha frantically called for the knife, which I tossed up to her.
When I climbed back up, I found Isha stabbing maniacally at one of the Chindra. It bled all over the floor as it tried to crawl away. Isha pulled it back and continued her onslaught until it stopped moving. From the dent in its side, I figured it was the same one I had injured with the extinguisher.
“It tried to pull away Nicole,” said Isha, wiping away the creature’s blood from her face.
We felt incredible relief when the door to B5 sealed shut above us; the Chindra didn’t seem to have made it down to B6. My iPad buzzed, and I quickly typed up this last summary in a tiny room that connects with the hatch while Isha changed back into her clothes.
I explained to Isha an idea I’d had: we could find one of my dad’s clone’s bodies on B3, cut off its hand, and use it to open the hatch to escape. That way, we could at least bring Nicole to a hospital.
But Isha wasn’t interested in leaving without Mason after I fought so hard to get to her. “Even if I was willing to do that,” she said, “we’d have to carry Nicole so far, and survive so many obstacles. Our best bet is to get to Mason and take the elevator back up.” I was relieved at her decision. I want my brother back more than anything.
This may be the final occasion that I write up one of these summaries. Have you been bluffing about the air system all along, dad's 'primary' clone? You don’t seem to actually have much control over this facility. But, still, I’ll indulge you this one last time. I have no doubt that our next exchange will be in person.
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2020.09.25 09:38 SirScreamsABit Dressing hidden in camera
Berlin, 3 years ago. I closed the book, setting it back down on my bed. It was a spy book, following the life of a spy called Marie Formby who, funnily enough, was sent to Berlin on a mission. It was all very cliche, with obvious red herrings, but overall a fairly good read. I checked the time, 2am, I had read the entire 60,000 word novel in around half an hour. I opened my files to have a last minute reminder about who I was dealing with and what I was doing there. I had 4 targets, high profile politicians that needed to be assassinated. Their deaths couldn’t look like assassinations, they needed to look natural. If the governments of the world discovered they were killed, war would soon follow. That didn’t faze me, I had been working on them for a few weeks already, I knew how I was going to be removing most of my targets and it was all going to be done tonight. Accidents happen after all.
Target 1; Flo Beaumont - French politician. She enjoys long drives after having a few drinks with friends. She just so happens to drive a car with a full on board computer for self driving. She took it into the shop a week prior for a check up, that was when I installed a backdoor, giving me control of the entire car. I would spike her drink with an ethanol based compound so the autopsy will have her down as twice the legal limit, take over her car and crash it into the river Spree. Using the onboard computer to keep the doors locked but opening the windows just enough to let water in. She would drown and the autopsy will blame her drinking. Target 2; Wilbert Wehner - German politician. He was also quite the drinker, but became aggressive when drunk. He didn’t tend to get that drunk on nights out because of that, but a little helping hand from my ethanol compound would fix that. He would get into a drunken brawl and his neck would be broken. It would be a shame if the cameras weren’t pointing in the right direction to get a description of the assailant, wouldn’t it? That would be down to simple timing, I already knew the exact time window I would have to kill him.
Target 3; Kilian Braun - a second German politician. I had been speaking to his wife under an alias to make him think she was unfaithful, I’d also been talking to him making his wife think he was being unfaithful. He was living in a hotel for a week while they worked out the future of their marriage. Mr Braun was also very far behind in his work, his computer kept deleting all of the files before he could send it off, meaning he was having to pull late nights to catch up. Nobody could blame him for getting a little overwhelmed, with stress from work and from home. A mild aethstetic that was almost undetectable after an hour or so, a rope around his neck. The hardest part was the carefully crafted suicide note, written in his handwriting, penned in such a way that the reader - no matter how trained their eye was - would see the pain and anguish poor Mr Braun was going through. Suicide was his only way out. Lastly, target 4; Alessandro Hofstetter - Swiss politician. He didn’t have any vices, he was religious, didn't drink, happily single. He was my problem target, with nothing to work with I was going to have to just have him killed and hope the police saw it as a robbery gone wrong, or think outside of the box. I was going to worry about him later in the evening, I could get 3 targets done fairly quickly. Their deaths would pave the way for the agency to be given more autonomy, giving us more power to act before a threat becomes a problem, rather than after.
I left my hotel room, dressed for a night on the town. I was going to start with Braun, he was the nearest target to me. I climbed the fire escape and across the ledge into his balcony. As I stepped into his room I saw him furiously typing away, listening to the radio as he worked. I pulled the syringe from my wallet, and quickly injected him in the back of his neck, just within his hairline - this was to minimise the chances of the autopsy finding the injection mark. I turned the radio up with the remote before wrapping a cloth around his mouth and wrestling him to the floor, holding him as still as I could. I was much stronger than him, and the drug was fast acting so I didn’t have too try hard. His body relaxed and his breathing slowed as he fell unconscious. I quickly knotted his ties together into a makeshift noose, an extra knot in the other end so I could lodge it between the door and the frame. I wrapped it around his neck and closed the bathroom door on the knot. Even if he woke up, I had put a stopper knot on the back of the noose, so he wouldn’t have been able to pull it off even if he wanted. Onto the next target, Beaumont.
I exit Braun’s hotel the same way I entered, and as I walked down the street I opened my phone to check the GPS of Beaumont’s car. It was still at her friends house, perfect for me. I took a taxi to the address, picking the lock and entering the house. It wasn’t too hard to sneak my way to the drinks, everyone had already drank a fair amount and I was always quiet. I saw Beaumont holding her drink, and just at the right moment I threw the pill, landing it perfectly into her drink. It dissolved before she had a chance to see it, and the compound kicked in. I didn’t have to wait long before she decided to call it a night. I was already walking toward the club where Wehner was still partying when my phone buzzed to let me know the car was moving. I sat on a park bench, booted the program and started driving for her. I tried to make sure the car looked like it was being driven by a drunk, swerving it across the road, being heavy on the breaks and accelerator. Everything inside the car was turned off, she could hit the pedals, turn the wheel or try the doors, nothing would stop the car unless I wanted it to. I lined up the car and drove it off the bridge into the river, winding the windows down just enough to allow water to come pouring in. I didn’t move from the park bench until the notifications about the door handle being pulled stopped. Second target down.
Wehner was easy. Spiked his drink and sat back to watch the chaos ensue. He eventually got kicked out, along with the other men he was arguing with. I followed them out of the club, getting myself ready to fight with Wehner, but I didn’t have to! He punched one of the men he was arguing with, and a fight started. The two men throwing drunken punch after drunken punch, stumbling all over as they fell with their fists. It was interesting to watch, the two men were similar in stature, but Wehner was quite the fighter, able to take the hits the other man threw. The other man must have noticed this because he pulled out a knife. Great, I didn’t have to do anything, just stop the crowd from getting involved. Wehner didn’t notice the knife until it was plunged into his neck. He must have thought it was just a punch at first because he pulled his arms back up ready to keep going, but then he grabbed his neck, fear etching on his face as he realized what had happened. I couldn’t help but think that the night was going way too easy. I’d been out for less than 2 hours and was already getting ready to move to my last target. I stayed just long enough to see Wehner fall to the ground as the other man ran away. I pushed the crowd out of the way, saying, “Move, I’m a doctor” in German. I checked his pulse and sure enough, it was not there. Target down, onto the last, Hofstetter.
It wasn’t difficult to leave the crowd, I just said I was going to call an ambulance and took off. I still didn’t really know how I was going to kill Hofstetter, I was thinking of making it look like a robbery gone wrong, but the closer I got to his hotel, the less I liked that idea. I opened my phone, booting up the cameras I had hidden in his room. He wasn’t there. I scrolled back through the night and saw him leaving not long after I had left my hotel. He was on the phone to someone, but that wasn’t his mobile - I’d already bugged his mobile. He had a burner? I checked his mobile GPS and he had left his phone in his hotel room. Shit, he could have been anywhere in Berlin and I wouldn’t know where. I called control and asked them to find him, they had access to every camera in the city, and with facial recognition algorithms it wouldn’t take long to find him. Control got back to me 20 minutes later, they found him meeting with Swiss secret service. I asked for the address, but before control could tell me an explosion went off. I turned to the fireball before control broke the silence, “delta-73-alpha-victor-061, target down, mission complete.” I never found out who or what caused that explosion, but I knew one thing; it wasn’t the agency.
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2020.09.25 07:43 GhostofRoseDavince Face In The Glass.
| please upvote so matt can see.|
So, on my run through on the recent videos, I noticed a what looked like a dress in the glass, from the way it shattered.
I traced the fracture line appearance in the top nest camera, screenshot, Which in fact heavily supports one of my key theories on it being a Serial k*ller t*rture site. Which also ties into the hauntings, and the glass shattered most likely due to the ghost "running" through it, causing a poltergeist effect on the glass, resulting in it exploding the way it did.
I have partial belief that being due in part to reflective nature of glass.
Most of us have probably heard of the old superstition that breaking a mirror grants you seven years of bad luck. Besides broken mirrors, even intact ones were the cause of superstition, with people believing that mirrors can steal your soul – like Narcissus gazing into his own reflection.
To keep the souls of the departed safe from entrapment, Victorians used to cover the mirrors in their home when someone died, keeping their souls from getting trapped inside.
I might seem like i'm grabbing at straws, but seriously put the pieces together.
Missing areas, hidden keys, old vehicle, ghosts, and random mishaps. All that adds up to one twisted mystery, undoubtedly leading to this theory.
The "Lab" also could have been a cover up for what really was happening.
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2020.09.25 02:27 WD_Stevenson Camera hidden in dressing
At what point does a mind break? Is there a predestined amount that the human psyche can handle before being irreparably shattered? How much crazy shit does someone have to see before the trauma becomes so intense that the mind just cannot bear it anymore? Combat soldiers experience it, obviously. High stress responders experience it. It's been studied and labeled to varying degrees. But what is the exact moment it happens? The straw that breaks the camel's back. The instant separating the hold and the fall. I wonder about this. I've wondered about it since the first night. Just how many hit points did my mind have left in the life bar before I was on that ledge, and how did I know I wasn't on it already? I pondered this about myself and also about Clay. He had to have reached that point a long time ago. I couldn't imagine any way in which he could have avoided it. The darkness in him came from somewhere, and it seemed to lead him on. Maybe he'd learned to embrace it. To use it like a tool. Dulling the jagged edges with the liquid sandpaper of 80 proof so that it didn't cut him quite so deeply as he leaned into it. Regardless of all, he moved forward. We always moved forward.
I sorted through these thoughts as I sat at a table in a cavernous dining room, wagering at the end that I was better off not knowing for the sake of objectivity. My usual excuse. The note that had been slipped under my door sometime as I slept foretold of the bountiful breakfast that would be awaiting me when I inched out of my cocoon of blankets. I hadn't been misled as I followed the tantalizing aroma down the hallway and came upon a sprawling table covered from edge to edge with every manner of home cooked breakfast food imaginable. I was alone, and as such I was without reservation. I mounded food upon my plate and sculpted it into a pile before attacking it with unrestrained gusto.
She appeared quietly beside me, her voice causing me to simultaneously jump and choke.
"I hope you slept well, Adam the Stray." Aubrey said in a luscious voice.
"I did, thank you." I said as I hurriedly swallowed a mouthful of fried potatoes and cleared my throat. I leaned to look around her for a moment before looking at her. "Where's Clay?"
"Sleeping. Deeply. He needs it." She said and I couldn't disagree.
"How do you two know each other?" I asked her as I took a sip of orange juice.
"Oh, we met some time ago. In New Orleans. I'm not sure who found who." She laughed. "But it was destiny..with a little help." She smiled.
"How does one help destiny?" I asked, a little flirtier than I intended, but she seemed to like it.
"By listening to the spirits, of course." She replied as she installed herself into the chair beside me, making sure to brush my arm.
"Are you going to add to that or leave me hanging?" I cast a sideways glance her way and grinned behind the rim of my glass.
"There's nothing more that needs said of it." She draped an arm across the back of her chair and crossed her legs, looking me up and down in an appraising fashion. "Clay likes you for some reason. And that in itself is intriguing."
"Can't disagree with that. I haven't entirely figured him out yet."
She laughed politely before leaning forward and becoming serious. "Clay is a good man. But he's a broken man. I know you've seen it." I nodded as she continued. "His problem is he doesn't think he's a good man, and because of that no matter what he does or how hard he tries he'll always feel like he's failed."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, surprised she'd divulge personal information about Clay behind his back to someone she didn't even know.
She looked me in the eye. "Because it makes him dangerous. I'm telling you this to try to get you to leave while you can."
I felt insulted. It was true, I'd been on the precipice of death more than once since meeting Clay. He had his fits of melancholy that bordered on sociopathy, but I never once felt threatened by him. It made me curious then, why this lady who seemed to know him on a personal level and who I'd just met seemed intent on pushing me out. Something didn't feel right. I chased the scrambled eggs around on my plate with my fork. It hit me then, and I looked back at her.
"You're using him, aren't you?"
She looked taken aback, and the supreme confidence she had displayed prominently across her face for the first time faltered. I thought she was going to reach out and slap me, but she restrained herself. She leaned back in her chair, and at length, she merely shrugged. "No more than he's using me. We have an arrangement."
"Uh huh. Does he realize he's getting the shit end of the stick when it comes to your arrangement?" I obviously didn't know the details of their relationship, but I know people. It wasn't hard to deduce that she was taking advantage. I may have been jaded in life and irritated after the perceived attempt to scare me off, but it only made sense that the scales tipped her way. I was sure Clay probably knew that as well. He wasn't stupid. Perhaps he felt defeated enough to just not care. Or detached enough. It could have gone either way but I strongly leaned towards the former. Even so, it angered me. I pushed my plate away and turned fully to stare at her. I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. Her eyes flashed with the concentrated anger of a person who'd been caught in a lie, and she began to speak before she was cut off by the creaking of floorboards. Clay was descending the steps, looking rejuvenated as he buttoned up his freshly laundered khaki shirt. He walked towards the table, more spry than usual, all things considered.
"The food smells nice." He said in his simple drawl as he walked by Aubrey, placing a hand momentarily on her shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. She leaned into his hand and he let his fingertips trace their way down her arm before he pulled a chair out next to her and dropped into it. He looked at me with an expression that I couldn't read as he gathered up and filled a plate. It was strange to see him at a table, to the point of almost being awkward. It was the first time I'd seen him without his ballcap on as well. I was able to notice the jagged set of scars that creased his upper forehead and ran up and over his scalp, seemingly put there by the raking of what I imagined could only have been a giant clawed hand. My eyes must have lingered longer than I intended because he ruffled his dark hair quickly to conceal what he could before focusing on a biscuit and speaking to Aubrey. "Thanks for letting us crash here, I figure if we can get on the road within the hour we ought to make it in a decent time."
"My..you're in a hurry, aren't you?" She said to him.
"Yep." Came his reply before he began eating.
"Why don't you stay a few days instead?"
"Nah, we got a window where they ain't gonna be sure if I'm dead or alive. Need to take advantage." He didn't look at her as he spoke, he faced forward and looked ahead at nothing in particular.
"Suit yourself. I'm going to go get dressed." She said with a huff as she spun out of her seat and walked towards the stairs. When she was gone I looked at him.
"You sure you don't need a breather after everything?" I said.
"You just heard what I said. Time ain't on our side."
"How do I fit into all of this now?" I said with a modicum of potency.
"That's up to you, hoss. Ain't gonna lie and say I couldn't use a hand, but if I were you I'd bail now and get as far away from me as you can."
"Yeah, no. I think I'm in a little too deep to skip out now."
"Just remember there's gonna be a point of no return. Sooner rather than later. You be paying attention for the signs."
"They tried to kill me too, Clay."
I looked hard at him and felt a stab of aggravation as I recalled the pack of Dogmen waiting for us on the bridge. Clay simply nodded and finished his meal in silence before he stood and made his way back up the stairs. I wandered back to the bedroom I'd claimed and found my clothes waiting for me clean and folded. I was still wearing the borrowed bathrobe and quickly changed out of it. I hadn't seen or heard any housekeepers and after the teddy bear incident wasn't about to speculate on how everything was being accomplished. I just knew I was ready to get out of that house. I scooped the assorted cargo back into my pockets and made sure nothing was forgotten then strolled back down the long hallway. Clay, ballcap and all, was draping the sling of his rifle over his shoulder and I picked up the shotgun. He looked at me for a moment and I gave him a reassuring nod that I wouldn't blow holes wantonly through anything that didn't deserve one. He jerked his head to indicate I should follow him and we walked down another long hallway and through a heavy wooden door that led to a garage. Aubrey was already there in the drivers seat of a new four door Jeep. Clay opened the hatch door and placed his rifle and backpack in the cargo area. I did the same. We both retained our pistols and climbed aboard.
"It's about an eight hour drive, maybe nine if we get stuck behind a log truck or something." Clay said to the both of us.
"I wouldn't worry about time, dear." Aubrey said soothingly as the garage door opened and we backed down the driveway. "I've always wanted to see your home."
"Me too." I added from the backseat.
"It's nothing special." Clay didn't sound enthused and let the subject die there.
The drive was..strange. For lack of a better word. There were times I felt dizzy, and others where I felt that gravity was alternately increasing and decreasing. I don't remember much of it, to be honest. I recall glimpses of rice fields, then tall pines, then green mountains and granite. All framed through the window that looked like a smudged portrait that couldn't be wiped clean. When I blinked it was like blacking out. It didn't make any sense. The sun should have been low and bordering on dusk by the time we turned off of a two lane blacktop onto a gravel road. I rubbed my face until I felt semi lucid again and saw the sun was still shining brightly. The voices from the front were muffled, and slowly began to get clearer but my eyelids remained heavy. Clay was pointing out directions. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes again, feeling excessively worn out. I vaguely recall the Jeep easing to a stop and two doors opening and closing. I remained in my seat not ready to move yet. I'm not sure how much time had passed until I began to feel better. My neck was beginning to ache as my head rested against the tinted glass of the window. I could hear breathing. Deep, heavy breathing. I slowly opened my eyes to a sliver and pivoted my head against the glass, rolling my body over. A shadow had fallen across the window. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and my eyes came fully open. A fog gathered on the exterior from the deep, ragged breaths. Heat radiated across the side of my face. As much as I didn't want to, I forced myself to look out the window. My heart nearly stopped as I gazed into a pair of amber eyes only separated by a meager barrier. Razor like teeth glistened as a dark tongue lolled across them. The head was so big it blocked out everything else. A scream caught in my throat as I flung myself away from the window and across the seat, clawing at my chest for the pistol in my holster. My hand came up empty. My pistol was gone. I glared at the face that was staring at me, and in dog like fashion it tilted it's head and flicked an ear. I could hear Clay's voice then in the distance, outside of the vehicle. The sound caused the massive head to swivel, it's body following. It rose to a looming height and trotted away from the Jeep, leaving me there alone with my horror. I commanded my lungs into operation and dove over the seat, finding the shotgun still there. I checked the chamber to make sure it was loaded and clenched my jaw as I threaded a finger around the door handle and pulled.
I snaked out of the seat onto the ground, flopping onto my stomach and crawling around the front of the Jeep. I could hear snarling. It was near. I steeled myself, focused all of my resolve, and slipped my finger into the trigger guard. Just as I was about to spring up I heard Clay's voice. It was calm. Eerily calm. "That's enough." Was all he said and the snarling ceased. I peaked over the hood to see Clay standing about fifty feet away. Aubrey stood a bit further with her arms folded over her chest. Next to him was the Dogman. It towered over his head and was easily twice as wide. Muscle rippled under dark gray fur as it turned and looked at me. Clay glanced up as it did so and he turned as well.
"You're awake." He said simply. I wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement.
"What the Hell, Clay?" I yelled back, still reluctant to come out.
"Simmer down, Adam. This is Roog. She's my guard dog. She won't hurt you. Put that shotgun down."
I stared at the creature. It stared back, but it's eyes were calm and content. Clay glanced back and forth between the two of us. He grinned and much to my dismay he jumped forward, launching himself at the Dogman. It rocked on it's feet and whirled around, wrapping two giant arms around Clay, and the pair of them tumbled to the ground. The beast snarled as Clay grabbed the fur at both sides of it's neck. White teeth flashed and it shook it's head ferociously. Clay was slung about like a rag doll under the power of the creature. It was the first time I'd ever seen him laugh. Not just a short chuckle at a joke, but a hearty laughter. The more he laughed the more it snarled, until finally he said "That's enough." And everything stopped. Clay's chest and shoulders heaved as he was catching his breath. The Dogman rolled up to it's feet and sat back on it's haunches. I may have hallucinated it, but it seemed like it's tail was wagging. Clay reached up and picked some leaves from it's fur then brushed himself off, looking towards me again.
"Come on out. Rip this bandaid off now. You'll be fine."
I had my extreme reservations, but I eventually did shuffle around the Jeep and lowered the shotgun. I inched my way forward. Clay spoke again as I did so.
"Just got done telling Aubrey the story, I'll tell it again since I'm sure you'll want to know. 'Bout fifteen years or so ago I got a call from a sheriff's office a few counties over. A farmer had reported seeing a Dogman on his place. Showed up and found one. All busted up and torn to pieces. Big female. Had a broken leg that was bad infected. Already dead when I got there. Probably a fight in the pack. New alpha, all that. I was getting to work disappearing the carcass when this little thing started squalling from the brush. Looked like a jackrabbit with fangs. Eyes weren't even open yet. I couldn't leave her there. So I about went broke and crazy keeping her bottle fed, then regular fed. And she's lived here ever since. And that's all there is to it."
Clay scratched Roog behind an ear as he told the story, and during his oration I'd moved in to within arm's reach of the whole mess. I was still extremely distrustful, obviously, and looked at Aubrey. She was amused by the whole thing. Roog seemed happy and pulled Clay closer to her. It reminded me of a gorilla clutching it's newborn. I shook my head in disbelief and Aubrey walked towards me, holding out my revolver that had been tucked under her arm. She smiled slyly as I took it and jammed it back in my holster.
"Clay didn't want you to freak out and start shooting when you woke up." She said.
"What exactly happened on the drive here? Why was I out to begin with?" I asked, more than a little irritated.
"Time is relative. It's not as constant as people think. A little persuasion is all it takes. Sometimes the ride can be a little taxing." She replied cryptically and turned away, walking towards the porch of the stone walled cabin that was apparently Clay's home. She settled into a wooden rocking chair in the shade.
"Door's unlocked, drag your shit in and put it where ever. It ain't much, but welcome to the shack." Clay said over his shoulder as he continued to pat Roog.
I distanced myself from Clay and the creature quickly, grabbing my things from the Jeep and I walked up the porch steps. It was quite the set up. Off grid completely, as far as I could tell. Solar panels lined the metal roof, and two wind turbines were set atop high poles that were anchored to the corners of the cabin. The walls were thick stone and concrete, windows like gunports framed with steel and covered with ornamental iron that I immediately saw doubled as a security measure. There were spotlights tucked beneath the eaves and aimed in every direction. As well as cameras. Everything was engineered to look decorative yet retain functionality. The average passerby probably wouldn't have noticed any of it. I crossed the threshold and looked about the room. The floor plan was open aside from a single bedroom and bathroom. The concrete floor was polished smooth and painted a dark brown that resembled mahogany. The rafter beams were steel and rough hewn wood. A deer antler chandelier hung in the center of the room and the LED bulbs brightened even the darkest corners. There was a well worn leather couch, a table, and in the corner a work bench with a reloading press and shelves of brass and powder. Three huge gun safes lined one wall and a full bookshelf lined the other. All in all, it was a clean, cozy and relatively modern dwelling. I don't know what I expected, except maybe a literal shack. Or maybe an underground bunker. I was pleasantly surprised. Of course there was no television, radio, phone, or internet. And even I could tell that beneath the facade if was engineered to act as a fortress. But there was running water and a fridge. And a liquor cabinet. I dropped my bag and made my way towards it to recoup some of the bourbon lost during the bridge fight. I badly yearned for a drink and helped myself to a bottle. Rummaging through kitchen cabinets found an enamel camp cup. I poured a strong one and fished the last remaining edible out of my bag. If there was ever a time I needed to make sense of the world, it was then.
I walked back out onto the porch and leaned against the wall beside the door. Clay was still playing with Roog, looking much like a toddler playing with a Great Dane. Aubrey and I watched them. I took a long drink and let the bourbon trickle down into my stomach. I settled on a rail and crossed my legs at the ankle. I spoke to Aubrey but didn't take my eyes off of Clay.
"He seems..happy. Never seen that before."
"I haven't either, not like that." She replied as she rocked gently in her chair.
"I've heard of service animals before, but only Clay could have one that weighs eight hundred pounds and doesn't officially exist." I attempted humor, but it somehow fell short.
"That's an ugly thing to say." Aubrey side eyed me. "But you may not be entirely wrong."
"So what's the plan?" I asked as I took another drink.
"That's between you two. Or three." She smiled and gestured towards Roog. "I'll be heading home shortly."
"That's too bad. I was just starting to enjoy your company."
The words slipped out before I could rein them in and wreaked of sarcasm. I slowly looked over at Aubrey. She was staring at me with a look of malice that sent chills down my spine. Her eyes were cold. I tried to speak but my words caught in my mouth. I felt a pressure on my throat and couldn't move, and found it increasingly harder to breath. She stood and walked closer to me. I tried to stand but my body wouldn't let me. I was completely immobile, being held in place by some invisible force. It felt similar to the bending gravity I'd felt in the Jeep, yet much more substantial. She leaned in and I could feel her hair brushing against my face as she whispered in my ear.
"Be careful, Adam. Be very careful. Your world has changed, and you don't understand its ways yet."
She leaned back and looked into my eyes again as I fought for breath. With little more than a twitch of her fingers I fell back against a pillar, air rushing into my lungs, and part of my drink spilled onto my shirt. She whirled away and walked down the steps, leaving me there to wonder what the had just happened. I watched her stride across the yard, stopping to give Clay a peck on the cheek in front of a disapproving Roog who's lip curled up for a moment. She then sauntered to the Jeep and was soon disappearing down the narrow track between the trees that served as a driveway. Where she went from there I had no idea, and didn't care. I found my feet and walked back into the house, closing the door behind me. I needed to refill my cup anyway.
I perused Clay's book collection. It was an eclectic mix of homesteading and folklore, as well as nature philosophy by the likes of Edward Abbey, Aldo Leupold, and David Petersen, but also there were texts that ranged from biology and ecology to astronomy. Some volumes were of spiritual nature. Pagan in origin for the most part. A few were scholarly analysis of the Abrahamic. Part of me expected to find Sun Tzu's Art of War, and I did. Many books I didn't recognize. Many others were bound in smooth leather and not labeled. I was about to pull one down when the door opened and Clay walked in. I snatched my hand back as if I'd been caught stealing, and he just shrugged. "Not like I'm trying to hide anything on a bookshelf." He said as he kicked his boots off and poured a drink. I pulled the book down and opened it. It was essentially a field guide for cryptids, and I noticed many lines were crossed out and edited by hand with a pen. My eyes darted over the pages as I turned them. Clay had been adding to it for a long time it seemed, as well as recording hunting methods that worked and those that did not. I closed the book and slid it back into place as I turned to look at him.
"Well, now what?" I said.
"We'll head out in the morning. Gonna be a long haul heading north. I got an idea that will draw in Golden Boy. Gonna start there and work up the chain."
"Makes sense. You sure he's in on everything?"
"I have no doubt he's in on it. If not directly then he'll at least know more than we do."
"So what's you idea?"
"We're gonna trap a Wendigo."
I'd looked at him blankly as he walked barefoot back out the door. I didn't immediately follow. I instead stood there and drank. I looked through his books again and impatiently waited for the THC to take effect. The details of the night were trivial. Clay pittered around outside alternately giving his beast attention and disappearing into the barn that was tucked back in the trees not far from the house. I considered going to try to lend him a hand with any chore he may have been seeing to, but ultimately decided I was fine where I was. The books were interesting, to say the least. Excruciatingly detailed accounts and observations from years in the field. He'd honed his craft to a fine edge. I flipped through the pages, learning technicalities, but secretly hoped to find insight. The books were written like a manual with no mention of how he felt. I suppose I'd been anticipating a more journalistic approach, but ended up having to settle for the black and white. There were creatures on those pages I'd never heard of. Some didn't even have photos, just hand drawn sketches. When I reached the last book I opened it, expecting a continuation of the field guides. Instead I found a hand written forward and in bold letters the words 'Graduated Cryptid Ecology: Concepts of Management and Conservation of Predatory Megafauna. By Clayton Bass.' I couldn't help but chuckle as I leafed through the pages at the ironic thought that he'd literally written the book on balance that he so vehemently sought. It wasn't just a job for him. It was his life's work. The reason for his tireless obsession and refusal to turn away had just become clear.
I'd lost track of time as I'd engulfed as much information as my addled brain could hold. The sun was sinking and through the thick glass windows I could see lightning bugs blinking as they hovered around the trees. I smelled the rustic scents of smoke and meat. I tucked the book under my arm and ventured out onto the porch. Clay had built a fire in the yard and was broiling two enormous slabs of venison directly on the coals. He sat in a lawn chair and Roog sat to his side. They both looked up at me. I'd become familiar with Clay's improvised sign language that he used when he didn't feel like talking, so when he motioned for me to bring a bottle I did as instructed. I sat across the fire from the two of them on a piece of cut oak.
"What's this?" I asked as I held the book up.
"Figured you'd find that the way you had your grubby little fingers all over my bookshelf. Keep it. Maybe you can make use of it someday."
"You sure? This had to have taken you years. It reads like a dissertation."
And with that I knew the subject was not open to further discussion. The meat sizzled on the fire and was done cooking. We ate like cavemen, hacking chunks up with knives and seasoning with rock salt. It felt natural. Instinctual even. Even with the giant predator hovering mere feet away. Clay carved chunks of meat for both himself and for Roog, who reached out and took them by hand as he offered, which I found to be astonishingly creepy. I feel like I would have preferred him to toss them into the air and her catch them in her mouth like a normal dog. Such was not the case. I did my level best to ignore it. Our hunger was sated as the meat ran out and we relaxed and watched the flames dance. It was deathly quiet. I'd gotten used to the night sounds of nocturnal birds, mammals, and insects during all of our camping. There was nothing here. I was about to ask Clay why when Roog shifted and stretched out onto the ground, laying her head across Clay's feet. That was my answer. Of course nothing was going to come near with a Dogman around. Clay looked to be in a subtle amount of pain with the bulk laying on his ankles but he patiently tolerated it. I resigned myself to the fact that the rest of the night was going to be spent in contemplative silence and was surprised when it was Clay who broke it.
"There's an energy in the world. It's like a deep and ancient anger. It's always been here in one way or another, near as anyone can tell. Hidden, though, until you agitate it. Nature tries to keep everything in balance. Doesn't always work. People have learned over the millennia how to manipulate it. I can't begin to tell you how they figured that fuckin' puzzle out. But by that I mean it's just a nudge here and there. You've seen it. No one can control the whole thing. If they could then it would be game over for this planet." Clay never looked up, he still stared into the fire and absently scratched Roog on her neck.
"Aubrey is one of those who nudges it around, isn't she?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"She is. Pretty good at it too. She's been working you like a marionette since you met her." Clay chuckled lightly and I took a drink, shaking my head.
"She got me a few times is all, can't imagine what she does to you."
"Nothing. It don't work on me for the same reason these things don't mess with my head." He nodded towards Roog. "They took that part out of me."
"Took what part out of you, what do you mean?" I asked as I leaned forward.
"Couldn't tell you exactly. It was a shot they gave me when I very first started. Said it was a vaccine incase I got bit or clawed by some of the gnarlier critters. What it really did was rewire some things. Didn't really outwardly affect me, just dulled some feelings. See, everything is connected by millions of years of evolution. Everything has that energy one way or another. I know I'm sounding like some weird spiritual guru type or whatever, but every ancient culture refers to and describes it. It's only in the past thousand years or so it's been ignored and forgotten. You read that book and you'll see my theory on how cryptids are wired in differently than modern humans. I've been preaching balance at you since day one. And yeah, I'm talking about ecological balance. Obviously it's front and center as the largest part. But it's not quite the entire story."
"If you've got it all in this book then why did you ever need me?" I asked as I held it up.
"Because I need someone else to put it into their words. And the story isn't over. You of all people should see that clear as day and twice as bright by now. Rebecca, Golden Boy, all them..they're fucking with the balance. I don't know how yet. We damn sure gonna find out though."
Roog jerked her head up as Clay moved his feet and he rose from his chair. She stood fluidly as well. I guessed her to be over nine feet tall and still couldn't keep the shiver from running a marathon up and down my backbone.
"She's not coming in the house, is she?" I asked hesitantly.
"Nah, she doesn't like being in the house. Makes her cranky. Sometimes she hangs out in the barn but usually she's off doing her thing all night. She's free to come and go as she pleases but knows this place is safe."
"Any other Dogmen ever show up around here?"
"Had some trouble some years back. The local pack showed up when Roog got to be about eight years old. We both ran them off a couple of times."
"And they never came back?" I asked as we walked up the porch steps and towards the door.
"Yeah. They did. And I came down on them hard. Really hard. Left the alphas and higher tier betas alive so the pack didn't turn rogue. Left the young pups alone too, but made sure they knew I could have taken all of them. Like I've said, they're smart. This is my territory. The pack understands that now. Roog runs with them sometimes, but they know not to follow her back here. They come to the boundary but don't cross it. Sometimes I'll buy a cow or two when times get lean and the deer herd gets thin so they don't starve. That's our arrangement."
"That's unreal." I said in amazement as I settled on the couch inside, running my hand over the well worn leather.
"It is what it is. I didn't like doing what I did but it came down to a matter of safety for me and Roog. This is the one place I don't wanna have to look over my shoulder all the time. Anyways, get some sleep."
"Wait." I said suddenly, snapping my finger. Clay paused and looked at me. "Roog..like Rougarou. The Louisiana werewolf. Right?"
Clay bolted the door shut and walked across the room towards the bedroom. I could see the amber eyes looking in through his window, glowing as they reflected the interior lights. Watching over him like a sentry armed with claw and fang. With the flip of a switch the room went dark and I stretched out on the couch. There was always something to ruminate on at the end of every day with Clay and his world. I wasn't especially tired and rose after several minutes. I wandered back to the bookshelf and gathered up several of the leather bound volumes and carried them to the work bench. I also took my journal from my travel bag. After topping off my drink I settled in beneath a single dim bulb and spread everything out, reading through it all and taking notes. The pair of eyes floated into my view beyond the glass, I nodded to the creature and gave a half hearted wave. She waved back and I nearly choked on my whiskey. The eyes vanished and I saw the giant silhouette rimmed by starlight move away in to the blackness. Gradually night sounds began leaking in from the surrounding woods. An owl called from a tree branch, and I became absorbed in the writings.
I must have fallen asleep at the work bench. My arm was numb from where my head rested on it. I'd woken up when Clay emerged from the bedroom before the sun had become visible. He nodded at me and strode unceremoniously out the door. My head had a slight ache and my mouth was gummy and dry from the alcohol. I decided to go for a run that morning and acquaint myself with the area. It was remote. Gravel roads were low maintenance and the trees were thick. The lowlands were verdant green and cattle grazed lazily in the open pockets. The nearest neighbor was a few miles away and seemed the type that would bury you rather than call the police. From the main road you'd have no idea there was a homestead nestled up in the hills, much less what guarded it. No mailbox, and no address markers. I jogged for a good thirty minutes, my pistol bouncing against my chest. I wasn't about to leave it behind. Lacing my fingers together I rested them on the back of my head as I leaned back and took deep breaths, cooling down and walking back up the driveway. Roog emerged from the trees and walked parallel to me on all fours. It was unnerving, but I did my best to convince myself it was alright. I headed towards the barn where I could hear clattering inside.
Clay had wooden crates opened and strewn out on the concrete floor. Mounds of various gear was piled everywhere and he navigated through the maze, picking selectively through it all. He glanced up at me as I jumped up to take a seat on a big chest freezer. "Mornin'." He said and I returned the greeting. He was dragging fuel jugs towards the back of a pickup that wasn't too dissimilar from the company truck that we'd left in Louisiana, if only a little older I helped him lift a heavy spool of thick nylon coated steel cable into the bed, both of us straining under the weight. Everything seemed relatively normal as we prepared for the hunt. We didn't talk about the why. We didn't need to. We didn't need to talk about much of anything anymore. It was almost like we'd become a team. Once the truck was loaded with everything deemed necessary Clay climbed into the drivers seat and turned the key. I opened the barn door and he drove out, then backed up to a gooseneck livestock trailer that was blocked up beneath an overhang at the back of the barn. I helped him hook up and lowered the jack, watching the big truck squat under the weight. It wasn't a normal trailer. The innards and axles had been reinforced and welded with giant plates, channel iron, and overload springs. Even so, there were still places that I could see dents and gouges in the armor like steel. I closed the barn door as Clay parked the rig in front of the cabin. I met him inside.
"Not sure how long it'll take." He said as he spun the dial on one of the gunsafes. It opened to reveal arms and ammunition that would make a warlord jealous. He repeated this on the other two, speaking over his shoulder to me as he did so. "I'm not quite sure how to get it done yet, probably gonna have to wing it, but I know where we should try to go. There are a bunch of old abandoned ore mines in Minnesota along the Vermilion River. Restricted area for more than one reason. That's where we'll go. Hopefully it won't take long to find one of them things. I'm thinking they're gonna be in fall brawl mode with winter not too far away."
"Ah, so that's all, then?" I asked as I examined the assortment of weaponry and munitions that ranged from long range rifles, DMR's, AR style carbines, and double rifles that looked like cannons to armor, optics and even med kits. I wasn't entirely sure I didn't see explosive ordnance tucked deep in the back.
"Yep. That's the easy part. Hard part will be figuring out how to get Golden Boy to take the bait. We'll come up with something."
I snickered at that. "Where did you get all of this? Looks more personal than government issue." I couldn't help but ask.
"Don't fuckin' worry about it. Shall NOT be infringed." Clay snapped back.
"You're absolutely right. It's a travesty that you don't have an Apache attack helicopter in the barn." I chuckled as I poked a little fun at him.
"Damn right.." He murmured as he hefted a heavy metal case out of the third safe that was as tall as he was. He looked at me. "Laugh if you want, but all else aside you know who we're fighting against. Air support and artillery sounds pretty good right about now, doesn't it? We ain't got it."
He had a point and I couldn't argue. Instead I helped drag gear and ammo cans. Before he closed the last safe he pulled a satchel from it that contained various burner electronics and no small measure of cash. We were self funding and trying to stay off the radar from that point forward. Once the homestead was locked down we both got into the truck, and immediately felt it bounce. Clay shook his head and climbed back out, walking back towards the trailer. I did the same to see what was going on. The scene was almost comical as Clay gently scolded Roog, who had opened the trailer door and climbed in like a colossal stowaway. She huffed and growled in defiance while Clay instructed her to knock her shit off. She eventually emerged, reluctantly. Clay scratched her across the neck and behind the ears, bidding her farewell before shutting the trailer door and walking back towards the cab. Again he climbed in to try once more to begin our journey.
"I used to haul her in this trailer when she was younger and I couldn't leave her here alone yet." Clay said as he shut the door and fired the truck up. "Hell, last time I think I hooked up to it was to take her to Texas with me. She's absolute Hell on a chupacabra. The real thing, not the coyotes with mange. We pretty much cleared out the hill country. Then she got too big and I got more eyes on me as time went on. So she doesn't get to go anymore. And she still gets pissed at me for it."
"How did you ever manage to keep her hidden?" I asked as gravel crunched beneath the tires and the trailer creaked and it swayed behind us.
"Drove at night mostly. Camped remotely and let her do her thing. They're pretty good about not being seen. Had the company truck so I never had to stop for inspections either. That helped." Clay said.
The road was long and the trip was uneventful. The only time we stopped was for fuel. Clay was tyrannical and made me pee in a bottle if I couldn't make it between gas stations. We dropped from the mountains down the Ozark Plateau, then wound through the rollings hills of Missouri which in turn gave way to the plains and cornfields of Iowa. I watched Clay have a nuclear meltdown in Minneapolis traffic. I wrote in my journal, revisited and edited notes, and read through the book Clay had given me. Eventually it was night again, and we pulled over at a rest area to sleep what remained of the night. When the sun rose again we were surrounded by tamarack, hemlock, and spruce trees. They seemed to create an impenetrable wall to either side of the narrow corridor we traveled. The air was cool and Clay flicked the heater on. We stopped at a farm store so I could run in and purchase a heavier jacket than I had with me while Clay examined a map. "Ain't far." He said as I got back in the truck.
submitted by WD_Stevenson to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]
2020.09.23 18:44 JeSuisJosito LA MÁS DRAGA – AN ENGLISH GLAM-UP
Aló Pececitas! Next up, you’ll find out a very detailed review of La Más Draga’s 3x01, Hope you enjoy and if you want me to explain any special thing or regionalism you might not understand because you either don’t speak spanish or you do speak it but well, mexican slang…Enjoy!
00:00 – 3:10 – We see glimps at auditions for the season, from Queens who weren’t and were selected, towards the end we get a look at the Final Live Audition, where the public knowledge Queens are chosen to be a part of the season.
3:26 – 8:06 – Public knowledge Queens unveal themselves, they all chit-chat, talk and shade each other
8:07 – 13:43 – Secret Queens are revealed to the rest of the Cast. These Queens did not need to pass any Live audition, they were either asked to film an audition tape and were selected or their tape was enough for the producers to choose them.
2020.09.22 19:04 FreshGeneral8 the entire oney plays gameboy creepypasta script
It all started 53 years ago, back when I was a fully grown little boy. One day, while I was jumping through the street, I happened upon a large vehicle, which clobbered me violently into a nearby window. After getting my bearings, I looked up to see a young boy with a GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition in his tiny little hands. I had always dreamed of owning a GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition, but my family could barely even afford gold... He looked up at me with those big, vibrating eyes. His two lower teeth quivered in confusion. "Muh, mahma," he said softly. This was my chance! I ran at him screaming and stomping my feet, scrambling his brain in sheer confusion. I shoved him as hard as I could and grabbed his GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition, and I ran out the door. I leaped back down the street towards my home. I pulled open the door by its big, smelly handle and I let myself in quietly. I snuck past my many parents and shut myself into my room. I had made it. Finally, a GameBoy Advance SP to call my own. I will have to keep it hidden from my family. I shouldn't ever allow them to know... I took the GameBoy SP in my small, beautiful hands, and proceeded to slide the switch to 'ON' mode. I will never forget that wonderful sound it made the first time I turned it on. And that wonderful Nintendo logo splashed my screen in sheer delight. I blew out my candle, and I pulled my curtain shut tight. I wanted absolutely nothing to get in the way of my first GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition experience. Suddenly, a small man appeared on-screen. Shortly after, the word "Mario" started flashing behind him. I assume this man is the man known as Mario. I had seen adverts showing him on television. The title of the screen slowly lowered itself in from the top of the screen: "Super Mario... and the Legend of the Stolen GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition"?! My heart sank... as I noticed a dead pixel in the lower left region of the screen. "Beggars can't be choosers," I thought to myself however, and I pressed the start button with my finger. A vast landscape with clouds, bushes, and bricks appeared before my very eye. And there he was. The familiar Mario man I had grown to enjoy. I pushed left on the left button. Mario himself dashed to the left. Dust between his silly brown shoes filled the air. Amazed by his speed, I quickly pushed right to test his turning abilities. I was not disappointed, as Mario changed direction in a matter of seconds. I learned the other button functions as I played... 'B' allowed Mario to dash at high speeds, similar to my own. 'A' allowed him to leap so high in the sky that I screamed in fear that, perhaps, maybe he wouldn't come back down... Yet he always did, which engaged me in the game-world even further. I quickly grasped the concepts of jumping large gaps, avoiding enemies, and climbing a big, big flagpole at the end of each level. I got to the fourth level without much problems. I looked into a nearby mirror and smiled at myself with one eyebrow raised and I said loudly, "Does this game think I am not good? I can handle anything it throws my way! Ahhh huhaaaaa! Auuhhh..." Suddenly, the screen turned black. And I don't just mean black. I mean so black the screen looked like a big, deep, deep hole. I said out loud, "Is this a hole I see before me?" and it echoed, like a hole... I wiped a large chunk of sweat from my flopping brow. "That was weird," I thought in a big bubble next to my head. The level loaded, but this time it took a lot longer. Mario stood in place so I pushed right and he began running. I noticed the graphics were getting all jumbly. Also, the music was becoming less like the Mario theme, "DA DA DAH DUH DA DAH DUH!", and more garbled, like "BRRPP BRPP BRUPP BRR BRUM BRADDAH!!!". I was nearing the first gap of the stage to jump over. As I drew closer, I readied my sweating, pink thumb over the 'A' button. The gap was here! I pushed the button, but Mario didn't jump... He just screamed. "HO!" I pushed left as far as I could and he grounded to a halt, right at the edge of the gap. I pushed 'A' frantically and repeatedly to try and make him jump, but he just screamed and screamed. "HA-HO!" The camera zoomed in on my face as I pummel that 'A' button, trying to make Mario fill that air above his body, but all that filled the air were my friend Mario's screams of fear. I said, "No more!" I pulled the cartridge from the GameBoy Advance SP and I threw it out my window. It landed in some mud outside and I laughed and I closed my window. I turned around... And I saw that the cartridge was back in my GameBoy... Mud oozed from its cartridge slot. I gasped and I said to myself, "Nooo... It can not be!" The GameBoy turned itself back on. Mario's face appeared with hyperrealistic skin pores and bloody chapped lips. He spoke softly, "You stole me from my human... Now I, Mario of Nintendo of America Incorporated, curse you forever...!" I screamed aloud, louder than an eagle of the night, "There must be some way to undo this curse!" I decided the only way to rid myself from this curse was to beat the game. I ran up to the first gap of the level. I pushed 'A' and Mario just screamed again. "HO!" I fell into the hole and Mario lost a life. This is when I noticed my skin began to rot and turn slightly green. "What on Earth is happening, Mario?" I asked Mario. "Every life you lose, I will make you rot! Haah haah huah!" I asked, "How can I beat the game with only screams? I cannot jump gaps by screaming!" "Fuck you" Mario said quietly. I screamed. "H O A H !" I decided not to beat the game in fear of me rotting! I decided that I was going to do the right thing. I ran out of my room pushing my feeble mother out of my way in the hallway. I ran down the street to the boy's house. Thunder bellowed and rain pitter-pattered on my crying face. Finally, I reached the house. I leaped up to the boy's window and let myself in. The room was dark. "Boy?!" I cried out. "Boy, are you there?" I turned on the light switch. As the room lit up, I saw many people dressed in black. They all cried softly. "Who the flip are you people," I asked with tears running down my chinny-chin-chin. "We are this boy's family," a woman replied, "I was his mother." She pointed into the center of the room where a small, white coffin was suspended over a hole. My heart sank. "Is your boy inside that box?" I asked with an eyebrow raised and a finger on my chin. "Yes, a crazed person broke into our home, ravaged our son and stole his childhood by killing him." Everything went slow. I dropped to my knees. I held the GameBoy tightly in my clenched fist. "Could this be my fault?" I asked myself politely. His mother walked over to me with a big, fat tear in her eye. She told me, "it really means a lot that a stranger would let himself into our home to pay respects to a boy he didn't know. I'm sure you two would've gotten along great." She then pointed to the priest and said, "Please lower our child into the Earth NOW." The priest did just that. He pulled on a lever with a shiny red ball on it. The coffin started going down! I shoved the mother from me and I sprinted toward the coffin. I jumped on that coffin and the ropes snapped. I began falling into the Earth with the child inside. I heard the screams from his family echoing above. I pried open the coffin as we fell and I shoved the GameBoy into his tiny, cold mouth. "Free me of this curse, child!" I screamed at the top of my... head. I noticed that we weren't hitting the bottom, and that the darkness in this hole reminded me of the dark I saw in the GameBoy. Could this be what I saw before? From the darkness, a floating, black and white head of Mario appeared. He said to me, "In this hole, you shall fall with the dead body of a child! Huaaah hah..." and then he Gaussian blurred away... . "This is what I get for stealing, I guess," I said as I shrugged. Suddenly, Mario appeared again. He said, "Wow... It sounds like you learned your lesson. You n-now be free... Bye." He clicked his... mustache and I was back in my room! I looked over on my bed and the GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition was gone! My mother opened the door and she said, "My son! My beautiful son! I make you eggs on toast," and she threw it on my bed and left with a smile on her face. I-I-r... I realized... maybe stealing not okay. I looked to the sky and I said, "Thank you, Mario inside Gameboy.." Everything would be alright. And though the child remained permanently dead, his mother could always play his GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition to remember him by. Thanks... to me.
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2020.09.20 19:49 Polterkites Hidden camera in dressing
Part I - Part II - Part III
I stood at the living room window, waiting. Finally, the garbage truck pulled up to the curb and a heavy-set man in a bright orange vis-vest stepped off the back. He spat dryly onto the pavement and hoisted my garbage into the back-compactor. Climbing onto the truck, he unceremoniously tossed the aluminum bucket back onto the road. My sense of relief vanished-
-Inside the bucket was a foot-long splinter. A lingering remnant of the coat-rack. Bursting out through the front door I yelled after them. The truck lurched to a grudging stop. Blood rushed into my face as I forced a smiled, embarrassed. I strode across the yard, bent over, reached into the can, grabbed the splinter of wood and tossed it into the truck. The heavy-set man blinked disinterest as they drove off towards the next house. The truck’s compactor pressed down with a satisfying crunch.
There was strange comfort in it, as though the coat-rack held some special power. A special power which, upon its destruction, had lifted. Strolling back toward the house, I caught myself smiling, humming. Almost feeling happy. I wrapped my hand around the front doorknob and- a sharp pain shot up my wrist. My hand swung back like an electric shock. Gritting my teeth, I turned my palm around. A splinter about the size of a blood-test needle was lodged in between my thumb and pointer finger. I breathed in, yanked it out, exhaled and tossed it back over my shoulder. I stepped inside.
When I pulled the door shut, red smeared across the brass knob. I turned over my hand again- A thin line of blood trailed out from the puncture-hole, snaking down towards the tip of my thumb. Wrapping my other hand around the ‘wound’, I marched back towards the kitchen.
The bandages were in a tray on top of the fridge. I pulled them down and wrapped my hand up. Turning around I leaned my back against the fridge, marveling at how quick my good mood soured. All it took was a wooden splinter. At that point, another thought crept into my head. Part of me, the paranoid, irrational part, wanted to go back and find the splinter, take it out past city limits and burn it. I actually had to fight the urge to go back and do this. It’s a coat-rack, I reminded myself.
Either way, I took comfort in the new security systems. Motion camera’s outside, alarms on every door and window. Big stickers advertising the system to any would-be intruders. I even checked every corner of the house just to ensure nobody was hiding inside. Looking back, I still hadn’t fully processed the fact that somebody took the time and effort to sneak into my house and set a coat rack in the basement corner. Not steal anything, not even move anything, just set a coat rack in the basement corner. The fact lodged into the back of mind like a stubborn popcorn shell stuck between teeth.
Hunched over my laptop at the kitchen table, I took a sip of bitter black coffee. Thanks to the pandemic, all work was homework now. That was fine by me. I always preferred staying at home to just about anything else anyways. Typing away furiously, I was finally falling into that ever elusive zen state of work. Coding line after line until-
-My cell phone buzzed against the plastic vinyl tabletop. Unknown number. I reached over and froze. Something told me not to answer it, something told me to block the number. I shook it off and answered regardless.
“Brandon Miller” Said the voice on the other end. I couldn’t tell if it was question or a statement.
“I’m calling about the note,” he continued. He sounded young, early twenties maybe. “The one on your doorstep.”
“Yeah, I was the one who left it there.”
I didn’t respond, I didn’t know how to respond.
“Look. I know it’s weird, trust me, I know better than most. The thing here is to make sure you understand what’s going on. To make you to take it seriously. Does that make sense?”
I didn’t answer.
He sighed, anxious, “Look. I know you think I’m crazy. Shit, I might be. I just… I need to talk with you in person. I -”
“-Don’t call this number again.” I said plainly. I ended the call. Set the phone down. Leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms.
In hindsight, I regret my coldness here. But in my defense, I’d seen enough real-life horror by then. I was pushing forty and well acquainted with the crushing mundanity of real-life suffering. I had no desire to indulge in made-up nonsense. I-
-KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
My heart skipped a beat as the pounding at the front door continued. I slid back on my chair and stood up. Fist clenched, I marched across the room and yanked open the door. There stood a young man, tall and dressed in a white shirt and black denim pants, “Look. I’m really …sorry to be this persistent but...”
I immediately recognized his voice from the phone call. I had to admit, the way he looked was surprising. Until now, I imagined a weaselly looking, basement-dwelling internet troll. But this guy almost looked like a low-key movie star. Young Marlon Brando vibes. Regardless, I didn’t know what to say. He looked down, kicking his feet awkwardly at the ground. He looked up.
“Look. I just need five minutes,” he said, “I’ll explain everything and never come back.” His eyes were filled with sincerity. Years of suffering hidden beneath a desperate smile. I looked around; other neighbors were milling about, a few were glancing over, concerned. I looked back to him, “Fine.” I said, my voice dripping with skepticism.
He looked back over his shoulder, then back to me. “We can’t talk here.” He said, “Let’s go for a walk if that’s alright.”
I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of character and he didn’t seem dangerous, he seemed genuinely worried. If anything, my curiosity was in control now.
Early evening overcast gray cast over the suburbs. We walked down the street, side by side, six feet apart, silent. The sound of shoes scraping against concrete and the lingering smell of outdoor Barbecue smoke. He looked back over his shoulder again. We were about four houses down from mine.
“First off…” He said, looking forward again, “I want to apologize.” He slid his hands into pockets as he walked, “I don’t really know the best way to… uh… approach something like this and I’m sorry for being so cryptic.”
I grunted non-commitally.
“Second, I… really don’t expect you to believe me.” He continued, “Unless I saw something firsthand… I wouldn’t believe me either.” He looked up at the clouds and squinted as diffused sunlight cast against his face. The sky was spitting rain now. Invisible drops you could only feel. Sporadic, icy pinpricks against the skin.
“Maybe I’m crazy, I don’t know.” He continued, “My father probably was. I mean that’s what we all thought when he finally …” He looked back over his shoulder again, his eyes filled with regret.
“Look.” He ran a hand through jet black hair, “Take it seriously for the first couple weeks and see where it goes. If it’s bullshit, then it’s bullshit.”
I still wasn’t quite sure what to say. At this point I believed that he believed, but that wasn’t enough to change my entire worldview.
“All you can do search for ways to slow him down. Invite people over as much as possible.” He continued, “I know there’s the pandemic. Hell invite a stranger over rent-free if you have to.”
“Whose living in your father’s house?” I asked suddenly.
“…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
He shrugged again “I haven’t been there since…” trailing off into silence he grimaced, looking around as if the words might be somewhere close.
“I grew up here.” He said, changing topic. “My sister and I used to collect pine-cones in the park.” He pointed across the street. Park was a generous word for an empty lot with a couple trees and a bench.
“We’d sell them to the neighbors…” He said, almost smiling, “Pine-cones, five cents a piece.” He shook his head like a chill went down his spine. “Look. You’ve just gotta take the rules seriously.” He suddenly shifted back to the previous topic. I still wasn’t convinced.
“You don’t know whose living in your father’s house?” I said, “Did you sell it?”
He stopped walking and turned to face me. “Don’t try to understand this.” He said, rubbing his forehead with the back of his thumb, “The more you try to make sense of it, the more you try to rationalize… It only gets worse.”
Sounds like a death-cult mantra, I thought. “Sure.” I said.
“You have my number still?”
“If anything happens, you have any more questions. Call me. Anytime. Seriously any time. Four AM if you have to. I don’t care.”
“It’s Mitchell by the way.” He gave a little wave, turned away and strolled off down the street, leaving me even more confused than before. Worse than that, I was beginning to consider the possibility that this might actually be real. A possibility made all the more disturbing due to the fact I’d already broken nearly every rule. His sincerity was unsettling.
By the time I got back home, it was dark out. I stood at the front door, rifling for my keys when-
“-Brandon?” A familiar voice called out from behind. I turned back to see Howie, standing on the curb. I almost didn’t recognize him at first. He wore a blue track-suit with a blue pencil tucked behind his ear and blue headphones wrapped around his neck.
Must be out for an evening jog, I thought.
“Howie” I said.
“Walker’s kid spoke with you huh?” he rested his hands on his hips.
“What he say?”
I shrugged, “Same stuff as the note.”
Howie shook his head as if to say, I expected as much. “Poor kid,” He said. “At least he’ll stop bothering you now.”
“Yeah.” Just then, beside the house across the street, the outdoor motion light snapped on. Howie looked back to see what I was seeing. Through the cracks in the fence, a lined silhouette stood up against the boards. It was hard to tell from this distance, but it almost looked like someone stood there watching us, peering through the fence-cracks. But the yard was filled with junk, so it could’ve been anything.
Howie turned back to me, “Anyways.” He said pulling up his headphones and turning away.
“Who’s living there now?” I said. Howie froze, lowered the headphones and turned back.
“Not sure.” He said.
“They never sold it?”
“So, it’s empty?”
“I’ve seen someone, maybe a few someone’s millin’ about inside.”
“Ever seen them outside?”
Howie tilted his head, thinking. He clearly never paid much attention to it. “I don’t think so.” He said, “But I gotta gold-fish memory” He chuckled, shrugged, reached to put his headphones back on and-
“-OH!” his face lit up, “I’ve been stuck on this,” he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out from his jumpsuit pocket and read: “A thin piece of metal which glows brightly when a current passes through.” He looked up at me, his eyes filled with hope, “Eight words across, first letter ‘F’, third letter ‘L’.”
The light across the street snapped off and a light inside snapped on. Window blind shadows cast from inside as someone moved through the living room.
“…Filament.” I said. Eyes still locked on the house across the street.
Howie scribbled away, “That’s it! My God that’s IT!” it sounded like he’d just won a thousand bucks. He looked at me, “You’re brilliant.”
I looked back to Howie, “Glad to help.” I said.
“Anyways.” Said Howie, his enthusiasm suddenly gone, “See you 'round.” He pulled his headphones up and jogged away.
I stood there, watching the house across the street. The light inside was still on, but no more movement. I turned back to my door, turned the key and stepped in. Pulling the door shut behind me, I strode into the living room and looked out the window. The house across the street was dark again. I pulled the curtains shut and turned back for the kitchen. The strange smell of gasoline and burnt hair lingered in the air still. Subtle, but unmistakable. I flicked the light on, sat down at the kitchen table and stared blankly at the wall. Harsh fluorescent glow vibrated against the white stucco. I should get warmer light bulbs, I thought. Then another thought crawled into my head. A thought that was slithering around in my subconscious for the past couple hours:
Mitchell, the dead neighbor’s son, did not put the coat-rack in your basement.
Of course, it’s possible he did. But after talking with him it seemed… unlikely. This raised another question: who put the coat-rack in the basement?
Another neighbor? Possibly.
The person or persons living across the-
The sound of a door popping open interrupted my thoughts. I looked back over my shoulder, across the living room, in the front entrance hallway, the basement door was open. Just a crack. A thin line of darkness.
I marched upstairs, grabbed my switchblade from the bedside table and stormed back down. Each footstep heavier than the last. Knife clenched in my left fist, I swung open the basement door and flicked on the light.
“I’m armed.” I said, trying and failing to sound like a threat, “If anyone’s down there, make yourself known now.”
Silence. Nothing but the hum of buzzing light bulb. I took a deep breath and exhaled, "Okay.” I whispered, taking a slow step forward.
I used to mock people in horror movies for always going down into the basement. But in the moment, it weirdly felt like my best option. It was that or leave the house or try to sleep knowing it’s possible that someone is hiding in the basement. Call the cops? Tell them I found a coat-rack? Most cops don’t even have the time to worry about stolen cars let alone ‘misplaced’ furniture. None of these choices felt appealing.
I reached the first stairwell and peered around the corner. Somehow, the hallway seemed darker than before. I flicked the light switch. Warm glow cast over all.
The light wasn’t working last time.
I stepped forward. The familiar smell of burnt hair and gasoline getting stronger. The short walk down the hallway feeling like eternity. I stepped into the rumpus room. Both corners were empty. I breathed relief and felt blood rush into my face. Once again, embarrassed at my own paranoia. I pocketed the switch blade and turned back when-
-something caught my eye. In the far-right corner, behind a stack of moving boxes, water. A thin layer of surface tension slowly spread across the shiny concrete.
They never said anything about leaks when I bought the place. I crossed the room and squat down. There were scattered clumps of wet dirt too. No source for the leak.
The circle of water slowly expanded outward. I stared into it and my crystal-clear reflection stared back. I need a haircut.
My face rippled as a single drop fell from above. Of course. I looked up.
I squinted, nothing but pink insulation and two-by-four beams. Could be a faulty pipe, I thought. Might explain the weird smells too.
-A door slammed shut. Upstairs, around the corner, the basement door slammed shut. I jumped to my feet, whipping out the switch blade. Before I could process what happened, everything went dark. Pitch. Fucking. Dark. The kind of dark that makes everything sound like jet-engines. The kind of dark that made your thoughts visible. I fumbled for my phone, and dropped in onto the concrete. Fuck. I squat down, flailing in the dark. Sliding my hands against the cold, smooth floor, desperately searching for the phone. Searching for the light. The smell of burnt hair growing stronger all the while. No phone. Only concrete and cardboard boxes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Panic swelled up inside my chest like a balloon, threatening to burst right through my rib-cage. I froze. I breathed in. I breathed out. I breathed in. I breathed out. The panic stopped growing. It didn’t get worse; it didn’t get better. It held in a state of pure survival. Clenching my eyes shut, I rose to standing. I didn’t even know which direction to go anymore. I followed my gut and took a step forward.
Up ahead, seven quick thumps staggered down the staircase and slammed against the corner wall. Silence. A sliding sound scraped against the drywall as if something rose to standing. A sickening chill went down my spine.
My hand clenched tight around the switchblade “You have about three fucking seconds...” I said, once again trying and failing to sound like a threat. Three seconds went by. Five seconds. Ten. Only silence. The sound of my own panicked breath and silence. Fuck it. Knife pointing forward, I rushed ahead. Screaming my best attempt at a war-cry as I flew through the dark. My ankles slammed against the stairs and I sailed forward, slamming chin first into the corner stair well. Swiping and flailing the blade like a blind madman all the while.
The light snapped on.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Flat on my ass, backed into the corner of the stairwell, I looked around. There was nobody here. I looked up at the shut basement door. Mind still racing, I turned and looked down the hallway. Stood in the center of the rumpus room, shattered splinters held together with nails and wire: The coat-rack.
submitted by Polterkites to nosleep [link] [comments]
2020.09.19 10:41 homemadedrugs Camera hidden dressing in
Hi everyone, these tips are some of the best ways to lift from stores. I haven't seen a shoplifting masterpost on this subreddit (correct me if I'm wrong) so I thought I’d share.
Also y'all have probably heard this a million times but only lift from big companies, and never lift from small / local businesses who depend on their sales.
Blind Spot A blind-spot is a section of the store where you are barely visible by any cameras or employees and can thus feel free to both collect and dump stuff, without fear of being seen. Make sure your blind-spot is not under surveillance. Never do anything where someone else may see you, even a customer. You can make your own spot inside a shopping cart with large packages to conceal your movements or use display units to your advantage. Also, a friends body can be used to block viewing. You will always want to act quickly once you have entered your blind spot and never grab an item and walk straight to your area. Shop your way into it like you need something from there and then shop your way out like you did nothing wrong. Never hang around your blind-spot for too long and don’t keep using the same spot, especially if you are leaving opened packages. Most of all, be careful to never lead Loss Prevention to your blind-spot and remember that Loss Prevention will know their store better than you and will already know where all the blind spots are.
Dressing Room After selecting clothes you head to the Dressing Room to try them on. While your in there you decide that instead of purchasing them, you’re going to shoplift them. This can be easily done in the privacy of this little room as long as you know what you're doing. The inside of dressing rooms will normally not be monitored by Loss Prevention. If they do they have to have a sign saying that “Dressing Rooms are monitored” for it to be legal. Also, most dressing rooms are not 100% private. A lot of times the door or curtain stops about 2 feet from the floor giving Loss Prevention an opportunity to observe some of your actions, especially with a small shoe mirror. Regardless of all of this, you’re going for it and there are several ways you could go about concealing your items.
First thing you do is to remove any security tags on the clothes. Removing tags is discussed in the ‘Tools of the Trade’. The most common way to obtain your new clothes would be to place them into another stores bag that you walked in with. Second would be to wear the new cloths under what you are already wearing or fold them up and tape them to your body. You could also just exchange the old clothes you are wearing for new ones (not recommend). Remember to never leave any tags or hangers behind unless there are already hangers or clothes in the room, which you can use to hide . Otherwise, you will be alerting the staff that you took something. Some store count the clothing going in and out of the dressing room. To get around this, hide pieces of clothing under more visible ones, or conceal clothes in a tote bag at a blind spot and bring it with you to the stall.
Body Stuffing This is a common technique used by women. With a dress on they will take an item and hold it between their thighs and walk out. Also you could have a inflatable ball so that you appear pregnant. Gather clothes and go into a dressing room, deflate the ball and place the cloths in its place, so that you still appear pregnant. Men could taking some small expensive items and place them in the small of your back. Wearing a tight shirt tucked in with a baggier outer shirt would help conceal any item. Clothes can be wrapped and taped around your torso and your legs while wearing bagger clothes. Remember you have to be able to walk out the door without arousing suspicion.
The Drink Cup Concealment A large drink is purchased and then brought into the store. You then proceed to drop small heavy items like jewelry into the drink cup. On leaving the store the drink cup is unlikely to be searched. You must be wary of drinking too much or the items will be revealed in the bottom of the cup.
Sleight of hand This is a technique used to manipulate items by secretly palming them and hiding the items out of sight while diverting the sales associates attention somewhere else. This is easily done with jewelry and an inattentive sales person. While looking at multiple jewelry you have the sales person distracted while an expensive item is slipped into a pocket. Though it is easy to distract the human eye, the camera is a little harder to fool, so you must keep this in mind when using this tactic.
The Drop Bag This Simple technique is use when a person brings a bag from another store in with them. As they shop around the store they will pick up two of the same items and inconspicuously drop one of the items into the open bag while looking the other item over. They then put the one item back as if they didn’t want it and make another selection.
The Self Bagger With this technique you enter the store with the stores bags already on you. The bags should be as new as they can be and you should have already acquired them in advance. Never walk into a store and pick up a bag out of the recycle bin or an empty cashiers stand. Begin by making your selections and then proceed to a predetermined blind spot in the store. You will then bag up the merchandise and place it the cart. With the merchandise bagged proceed to leave the store. This works really well if there are multiple cashers stands through out the store.
Receipt Matching This technique requires that you already have a receipt for the merchandise that you are going to return. You could search either retailer’s parking lot or trashcans looking for receipts that have a high dollar item on it paid for in cash. The problems with this is that stores try to prevent this type of return by installing outdoor cameras to watch the parking lots. Some will also have a greater who will give you a sticker when you enter with a return. This prevents people from acquiring items from within the store to return. Newer stores now have their return desk entrance separate from the store entrance to prevent you from doing this. If these are not issues then enter the store and compare the items on the receipt to the merchandise in the store. Once the you find a match take the merchandise to the return area and receive money for it.
Magic Bags A person will bring a foil lined bag that they made out of approximately 10 layers of heavy aluminum-foil, into a store. This is to help shield the security tags that are on merchandise from the alarm towers at the exit of a store. Choose small expensive items and place them into your Magic bag. The tags must be completely shielded for this to work. Seal the bag so that it cannot be penetrated by radio frequency. If there is a “leak” (i.e. If the signal from the tower reach the tag through a opening in the bag) the towers will be activated. You can test it by inserting a cell-phone in to the bag and calling the number. If the phone rings that means the layers are too thin, or there is a hole that is allowing the radio waves in. This bag will only work with the RF (radio frequency) tags. In order for it to work with AM (acousto-magnetic) tags you will need to increase the amount of foil to 30 layers of heavy aluminum-foil. A side note - you may use copper or tin plates instead of the foil to make a magic bag. The only issue with this would be weight. Read ‘Anti-Shoplifting Devices’ to better understand the difference between the RF and AM security tags.
Magic Box Like the Magic Bag a shoebox is lined with the appropriate layers of aluminum-foil and inserted into a bag of a local store. The box is placed so the opening is facing up, thus when you are in a concealed area you can discreetly drop items into your box. When you are ready to leave, just close the box with the lid (which was never removed from the bag) and walk out.
Magic Pocket You can line a hidden pocket inside of a jacket with aluminum-foil to create a Magic Bag. You would typically cut the bottom out of an inside pocket and then insert a envelope that has been wrapped in foil. You would then place small items into it and seal the flap so that the radio waves won’t penetrate the envelope.
Bag Switching Bag switching is attempted by two people who come into the store separately The first person will gather a large amount of merchandise that they want to remove from the store and place it into a large bag. They will then inconspicuously switch their bag with the second person, who has a matching bag that is already filled with items that came from another store. If Loss Prevention is watching the first person and miss the bag switch they will more then likely stop them while the second person walks out with the goods.
Box Stuffing This Technique requires the use of a low priced box. You open the box and remove the contents of the box. You then proceed to refill the box with more expensive items. You then reseal the box and take it to a checkout aisle, where you pay the purchase price for the item. You then leave the store with the more expensive items concealed. If the items in the box have security tags on them they will still be active and will set off the alarm towers as you exit. Most of the time the staff will flag you through thinking a mistake was made at the register and the box was not deactivated. You can also leave the low priced item in the box if you have room for your concealed merchandise, make your purchase, then just bring the box with the item back in for a full refund.
Shoe Switching This is a typical switch a roué technique where you leave a store with new shoes while leaving your old pair in the store. Some shoe stores will still have both shoes in the box with no security tags on them. These shoes will be the are the easiest to remove. Just swap out when no one is looking. If one of the shoes has a security tag in it then you will need to either use a tag detacher to remove it or if the tag is in a shoe lace hole you can cut the leather a little and pull the tag through the ripped hole. In a store where the employee has to retrieve shoes for you, find the shoes you wish to liberate. Once the salesperson retrieves the right pair, have them go back to the stock room to get another style so you can compare the two. Once the employee is sent back to the stockroom, you simply walk out with the new pair of shoes leaving the old pair in the box. It is always good to have at least two boxes of shoes left on the floor with the old pair in a bottom covered box and an other new pair exposed on top of it. This should allow you time to move away from the store as the employee seeing that you left the new shoes and boxes, will assume that you changed your mind and left.
High / Low Shopping Cart With this technique two people will fill up a couple of shopping carts. One will have a few expensive items in it while the other cart will be full of miscellaneous items. You then proceed to the cashier and unload the expensive items first. The cashier scans the items and removes the security tags. As one person loads up the first cart with the high value goods the second person continues to unload the second cart. The second shopper distracts the cashier while the first leaves with the expensive items in the cart. When it comes time to pay the second shopper pays with an invalid credit card or gift card. After a few embarrassing moments the second shopper tells the cashier that they will have to go and get the first shopper who has the cash and leaves the rest of the items behind. They both then leave with the expensive items.
Shopping Cart Passing Shopping cart passing is attempted by a two-person group. The first person will gather the desired merchandise into a shopping cart and take it to the register. The cashier will then ring up all the merchandise and place it in bags. Once the total is rung up, the shopper pays with an invalid credit card or gift card. Acting embarrassed for not being able to pay to first shopper leaves the store. Most cashiers will put the shopping cart off to the side and resume ringing up other customers. At this point, the second person moves in and grabs the cart and walks out of the store with the stolen merchandise already in bags.
Shopping Cart Hiding You find the item that you are looking for and place it under the cart. You then continue to gather a small dollar amount of merchandise and places it in the upper part of the shopping cart. You then bring the cart to the register and remove all of the merchandise with the exception of the item you wish to take on the bottom of the cart. A lot of times this will be overlooked by the cahier and not rung up. Also small expensive items can be placed under large boxes or bags that are to big to be picked up at the register. If the cashier is not paying attention you will usually be able to get the merchandise past them without much effort. After paying for the smaller dollar items you leave the store.
Push Out You fill the cart with a lot of high dollar items and you then proceed to the exit. This technique works well when there are register stands throughout the store and there are multiple exits. It would also help to have a receipt in your hand from a prior visit so that it looks like you have paid for the items in the shopping cart.
The Texas Twofer This in also called the Two for One technique and works well in stores that have multiple check out stands and exits. You enter the store and proceed to gather items you wish to take into a shopping cart. Then placing the cart in a predetermined out of the way area, you grab a second cart and gather the exact same items into the cart. You then take and pay for all those items and leave the store with your receipt. You can either have a second partner or do it yourself. Come back into the store with the receipt and go to your first cart. Bag up the items and proceed to another exit with your receipt as if you just purchased it. This technique could be done for a third time if the store has three exits, but I would caution that this should only be done with a partner.
Bag Alarm This works best in Mall stores. You walk into a store with a bag of items from an other store. Inside the bag is a concealed active security tag that will trigger the security alarm towers at the entrance of the store. Make a big deal out of it and make sure an employee notices that it was you that trigger the gates as you entered. Comment that there must be something from another store in their bag that triggered the gates. Ask them if they want to hold onto your bag while you shop and just pick it up on the way out. Find the items you want and conceal them on your body. If you still have your bag you may want to put items underneath the items you brought in. Remember though an alert staff may want to look into your bag as you leave. Before you leave find the employee that saw you come in tell them that as you go out you might set of the alarms again. When you trigger the gates again, just keep on walking.
False Alarm Have a friend enter the store a few minutes before you do and act as if you do not know each. You collect the items that you wish to take while your friend gets a few low dollar items and purchases them. As they leave the store you will walk out right behind them. As they reach the alarm towers have them hesitate a little as you walk through setting off the alarm. You discreetly keep on walking while your friend stops and draws all the attention by looking confused with the bags. They should be very co-operative and happily opens all of their bags for the employee to see yet nothing they have will triggers the gates again. Give an explanation of the False Alarm by saying that it must be cell phone interference.
Decoy Alarm You place an active tag into another shoppers bag while they are not paying attention. This works especially well with someone with children. You follow closely behind them as they walk through the alarm towers. The active tag will set off the alarm and the unsuspecting shopper will stop, as you continue to walk through. Parents will think that maybe their kid had something on them. All the attention will be on them as you leave the store.
Suspicious Friend Have a friend enter the store a few minutes before you do and act as if you do not know each other. The friend will walk around the store acting very suspicious. Picking up items and putting them into a pocket making sure that they are seen, but not being obvious. When an employee sees someone acting suspicious they will begin watch that person. You then proceed to the opposite side of the store and retrieve the merchandise that you wish to take. Make any necessary adjustments to the items in order to remove them and then leave. Your friend should place any objects that where concealed back and then depart. If they are stopped while exiting they can easy prove that they didn’t take anything.
The Bathroom Heist You need two people for this. Have a friend go into the store a few minutes after you. You go in and select whatever you want. The second person will have already entered the store and gone into the restroom. Have them wait in a stall. You go in with the merchandise. Go into the other stall next to your friend. Peek down at your friend’s shoes to make sure they are really next to you. Hand the merchandise under the stall, have them conceal the item and walk out first, leaving the store. You wait a couple of minutes, and then leave. If you are approached while leaving the store say you don’t know what they are talking about because you didn’t take anything. You decided not to buy anything and set the item down. You don’t what happened to it, it is not your reasonability to keep track of stores stuff. Do not admit to anything.!. You did nothing wrong and Loss Prevention will have to let you go.
Grazing This commonly happens at a grocery store. While you are walking around shopping, you pick up some food such as candy, and eat it. If questioned you say that you entered the store with the item. When you are done with the item you discard the empty package on a shelf.
Out The Wrong Door Some stores will have a separate one way entrance and exit doors. The entrance door will normally not have an alarm and can not be opened from the inside of the store. The alarm towers will be on the exit doors. This method will require two people or the help of an unsuspecting customer. You go in and retrieve merchandise from the store and conceal it. When you are ready to leave the store with your items, you wait at the entrance door. Have your friend open the entrance door for you as you walk out. You could do this without a friends help. Just wait by the entrance as a customer comes in and grab the door before it closes and walk out.
Walk Out You go into a store and shop like you normally would collecting as many expensive items as you can carry. As long as your appearance and attitude are not of a suspicious nature you should go unnoticed. Once you have collected your items just walk out and go to your car and leave. This is easily done in small clothing shops that do not have Loss Prevention. The sales associates will be slow to react. It could also be done in large department stores that have multiple entrances as long as you have a friend waiting in a car ready to leave. If the store has only Ink Tags you may not even be noticed as you leave. If an alarm sounds, then continue to walk calmly out the door.
Grab and Run (not really recommended) You enter a store with prior knowledge of what you are looking for. You move toward the merchandise you wish to take. Once you have the merchandise then proceed to the nearest store exit, very quickly. I recommend two people, one as a driver and the other as the runner. Before entering the parking lot for the store, remove the license plate. Coordinate watches and have a set time that the car will pull up the door. Before dashing out, make sure the driver knows to open the rear passenger door. This way you can just run out and dive into the back as the driver peels off because employees are sure to follow you out. Find a safe place to reattach your license plate. Due to the short time that you are inside the store, the people who attempt this are rarely caught, or in some cases even detected. Also a group of people can rush a store and grab as much merchandise as possible and then rush out. The speed with which this happens and the large numbers of people involved make it very difficult to stop.
Emergency Exits This a very old technique and still may work from time to time especially during the holidays. A person gathers a lot of expensive merchandise into a cart and goes to the nearest Emergency Exits . You grab all of your items, push the bar that sets off an alarm and open the door. Have a friend in a car waiting right outside the door for a fast get away. You need to remember that exits will usually have cameras watching them and all of your actions and your face could be recorded. Emergency exits will all have alarms and the newer ones are on a time release. This means when you hit it, it will not open for 10 seconds after the alarm goes off. Loss Prevention are very aware of this tactic and will be watching for suspicious behavior around these doors.
Casher Scanning An easy scam done by a cashier is to have a barcode stuck on the inside of their wrist so when a friend wishes to purchase something, instead of swiping the item the cashier actually swipes their wrist. This is effective when purchasing fifty dollar video games, which will actually ring up a couple packs of gum. This method eludes security cameras since it looks like an actual sale transaction is taking place.
Receipt Passing With this technique you need a partner who waits out side as you enter the store. You select an expensive item and proceed to the checkout and purchase the item. Outside of the store you Pass the receipt and the stores bag off to your partner while you take the item to your car. With the receipt and bag concealed the second person goes into the store and finds the same item. they will then inconspicuously place the item into the bag and pick up a cheaper item on the way to the registers. With the receipt in hand they pay for the cheap item telling the casher they thought that they had better get this item before they leave.
Fake Returns You go to the returns desk with a receipt and a box that contains a used or broken item, or something that has the same weight as the original item. This is best done when the return cashiers are busy and will not open the package. It also helps to have completely resealed the box and saying that it has never been opened. You would just like to have something different. However most high dollar items and almost all electronics will have a serial number on the outside of the box and it will be scanned at time of purchase. If it is returned, it will have to match the serial number on the item inside the box. They will open the box to double check it. You should have purchased the original item with cash so as to leave no evidence pointing to you.
Receipt printing This method is a little more involved then most techniques because it requires you to have a thermal printer and receipt paper from the store you wish to make returns to. This can only be done with stores that do not use Bar-coding identification on the receipts. You purchase a few high value items with cash and gain a receipt that you can then copy. You proceed to make multiple copies of the same receipt so that you can use them to return items that you have taken from the store for a cash refund.
Receipt-less returns This is a way of receiving cash or a store merchandise card without a receipt. You could attempt to remove items from off of the sales floor, walk up to the return desk, say that you lost your receipt and you would like to receive a refund. Unfortunately this is a risky move because Loss Prevention might be watching you as you go the return desk. After concealing the items, you leave the store. You would then proceed to another store and return the item there with out a receipt. Most stores will now require you to have a photo ID to return an item without a receipt and will limit how many returns you can make in a year. Large dollar amounts will always have to be approved by a supervisor. You can have fake Ids made up so that you can return more often to a store.
Fence Sliding In stores that have garden centers one may be capable of sliding small expensive items under the fence. You then leave out the exit and come around to where slide your item under the fence. Or you could slide it to a waiting friend on the other side. Just remember to watch for those outdoor cameras.
Key & Serial Numbers Many people download versions of games or software from the internet but cannot use the full version without a valid license. There are a couple ways of obtaining a license without removing the merchandise from the store. Take the item into a blind spot so that the packaging can be removed. Conceal the item and then take it into the privacy of a bathroom or dressing room to remove the packaging. Copy the serial number and then place the package in an inconspicuous place away from prying eyes.
Defective Software A person buys a piece of software from a computer store, exits, opens the software, and records the serial number / CD key for single license of the software purchased. After at least a few hours the same person re-enters the store where he bought the software and complains to customer service that the installation disc is defective. Most computer store policies allow same-item exchange for opened computer software, so the person is given a different copy of the same software. The person now has two licenses after only paying for one.
Self-Checkout It is possible to pass small items expensive items or large items through the self checkout without scanning them. You can do this if you have a lot of items you are purchasing. You can take a large item and pretend to scan it and place it right into the bag at the same time you pick up on the bag and place into your cart. The bagging area has a weigh scale that checks the weight of the scanned items. If there is a discrepancy, the supervising attendant is signaled to come to the station for assistance. The object is to never let the unscanned item sit in the bagging area. The scales will some times miss small light items so you could place multiple items into a bag without the computer noticing it. Beware - these checkout lanes are watched very closely by LP. Most have a camera overhead watching what you scan and a computer screen off site mirroring what your scanning.
Barcode Counterfeiting While you are shopping you find an expensive item that you wish to have. You also noticed a cheaper version of the same item. You copy the numbers down from the UPC / Barcode off of the cheaper item. You can find bar coding applications and information on the internet that will generate a bar code for you. Print one out on a sticky label and then take it back into the store and place it over the barcode of the expensive item. Go through the checkout process, make a payment, have any security tags deactivated by the cashier and then walk out without arousing suspicion with your new item.
Ticket Switching You find an item on clearance and remove the clearance tag. You then find a similar high dollar item and apply the clearance tag to it. You then bring the high dollar item to an unsuspecting cashier and pay for it at a clearance price. Unfortunately most retailers today now utilize electronic barcodes that when scanned will ring up the correct price.
Gift Card Cloning With this tactic you go into a store and remove a bunch of Gift Cards that have no value. With a card reader you obtain the numbers off of the magnetic strip on the back of the cards and make copies of them. You then return the cards and wait for a customer to activate one. Once activated and money is added to the card the value is also then passed to the cloned card.
Opps - Did I Do That When a person takes their place in the check out line with the items they intend to take, and pay for only one of those items while holding what they want to take in full view to cause confusion but avoid suspicion due to their apparent intention of payment. If the unlikely event of being caught, they could simply pass off the attempt as accidental.
Some of these are obviously more practical than others but thought to add them all anyway. Feel free to add more, happy lifting + stay safe.
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