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2020.08.06 22:16 LetsRead_YouTube Hidden hotel sex camera room

I am writing this story just days removed from the most traumatic experience of my life. I wanted to write down all of the details while they were fresh in my mind. I am from a fairly bigger city in New York State, not New York City. Once a year for as long as I can remember I would travel up north to the mountains with my family and stay in a cabin. This was a family tradition that I kept long into my twenty’s, and I still go today, well maybe not anymore. I am now twenty-six years old and traveled to this beautiful cabin with my girlfriend Rachel. This place was beautiful! It sits high on the mountains and overlooked a lake. From the back deck you could see the lack and the surrounding trees. Escaping to this Nirvana was the peace of mind I looked forward too every year.
This story starts about two hours away from our cabin destination. Rachel and I stopped at a rest stop to get some snacks, and coffee for the rest of our trip. As we pulled away to get back on to the highway, we noticed a large white truck with two kayaks pull behind us. We laughed assuming that this truck would probably be following us all the way to our destination as there is many spots to kayak up in that part of the state.
Our theory however seemed to be accurate. We were just ten minutes from our cabin, and the truck was still following behind us. This did not set off any red flags because like I said, this was a popular place for tourist, especially this time of year. We eventually reached our street, we turned on the dirt road, and as we turned, we noticed the white truck kept driving. We jokingly laughed and said goodbye to our traveling companion. Our cabin was about a hundred yards or so down this dirt road. The place was like a dream home. All wood finishes, high ceilings surrounded by lots of trails, and as I previously stated, the beautiful view over the lake. That first night we were there was lovely. The weather was perfect. We sat on the back deck, stared at the stars, and just listened to the nature all around us.
The next day Rachel and I went into the town to see some local shops and get closer to the water. We had a bit of a laugh when to our surprise we saw the white truck. It was parked in a lot by the marina. The only reason why we knew it was the same truck was because the same dirty kayaks were attached to the top. I jokingly said to Rachel that if the driver were there, I would have introduced myself, but there was no driver anywhere near the vehicle. Nothing more then just a crazy coincidence we thought. After spending a couple hours in town, we finally went back to the cabin to enjoy the scenery for the rest of the afternoon and evening.
At about 7pm I thought I heard some rustling in the trees to the left of the deck. I grabbed my phone to take a picture of whatever animal emerged. I could not make out any details on any animals, or anything of the sort. I could however clearly hear the breaking of branches, and rustling of leaves, but could not make out anything. Then I thought I heard what sounded like a cough from my right side now. I immediately turned to the right, and started looking into the woods from that side, but again saw nothing. I suddenly had that sickening feeling that I was being watched. I sat like a deer in the headlights just waiting to be attacked on all sides by whatever was in the woods, but nothing ever came.
Later that night after we ate, I told Rachel about the experience I had, and she turned white as a ghost. She had told me earlier when she went walking through the woods, she thought she had also heard coughing, but just chalked it up to her imagination. We talked about maybe calling the property owner or even the police just in case, but we both agreed we were being neurotic. That night we decided to sleep out in the living room in front of the fireplace. The living room was amazing. It had two huge sliding glass doors that overlooked the lake and mountains. We figured we would sleep there, stare at the moonlight and stars, and then wake up to the sun light shining in. Unfortunately, this did not go as planned. We both were jolted awake shortly after 2am to a loud bang. I sprung from all the pillows and blankets we had laid on the floor to witness one of the single most horrifying things I have ever seen! There was a man at the sliding door, at least I think it was a man. This figure was tall, and menacing, but most frightening was his mask. He had an owl mask on, but the mask had antlers on it. The figure had one hand up, positioned on the glass door, almost as if he were waving, the other was concealed behind his back. Rachel screamed in a panic, and somehow was able to utter the words “Call 911!!” I could have gone out there, but I was too scared and had no idea if this person had a weapon. Then I remembered hearing noises in the woods from all sides, so I began to wonder if there were others out there. I thought it would be safest to stay inside and just keep my eyes on the figure.
The cops took about 10 minutes to get there, and that was the longest ten minutes of my entire life. Rachel cried and screamed; I had a knife from the kitchen in my hands. We just stood face to face with this thing like a western stare down. It did not move. It just stood still, with one arm up, and the other behind its back the entire duration of the ten minutes. Finally, when we saw the lights of the car, the guy retreated into the woods. I ran out to meet the police officer, who had no sense of urgency whatsoever. I tried to explain that we had an intruder and he ran into the woods, but the cop just kept telling me to relax, and explain to him what happened. Long story short, the cop was no help at all. Basically, he told us that the locals do not like tourist, and he was sure that this was just a prank of some teenagers from the town, and we had nothing to fear. That was why the figure did not cause us any real harm.
Rachel and I were completely unsatisfied by this. The cop came, took our statement, and essentially left. Rachel and I sat in the living room, still completely shook to the core with fear. It was now a little after 3:30 am, and we decided this was enough. We were going to get our stuff and leave. Probably stay in a hotel for the night and contact the property owner in the morning. We packed our stuff incredibly fast, and made our way to the door, and once again we struck frozen in fear. There at the front door were two figures. Smaller than the first one, but still wearing owl masks. Out of fear, we turned and ran to the back door, and the figure from before was there. The taller figure with the owl mask and antlers. We called the police again, but we feared we didn’t have ten minutes to wait this time.
In unison now, all three figures tried to open the doors. We ran to the master bathroom, which had a window in it, and climbed out. We tried to be as quiet as we could and ran down the dirt road. It was pointless to scream for help because there were no other houses anywhere near our cabin. We got to the main road and called the police again. The cop met us on the side of the road. We said we were not going back to the house. The cop agreed to take us to a hotel in town, and as we drove several yards down the road both Rachel and I became frantic. There parked into the thick brush on the side of the road was the white truck with the kayaks! We told the cop, who still seemed a bit apprehensive, but took the statement.
The next day we went back the house with some police. It made us sick to our stomachs. The entire house was ransacked and destroyed. All the windows were broken, and all the decorations smashed up in the cabin. In our master bedroom, where all our luggage completely destroyed and thrown all over the room. When the cops went back to investigate the white truck, the truck was gone. Luckily, the property owner had some cameras on the outside of the property and saw the three figures stalking the outside of the house for hours. Even more terrifying was the entire day and night before they were stalking the house as well. I am just so thankful we somehow got out of this situation unharmed. The police unfortunately had no answers for us, couldn’t locate the truck or have any leads to the people who did this. Rachel and I are still trying to recover from these events and I hope one day I can find a place that can give me that comfort of peace and tranquility again
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2020.08.06 15:59 gregrektsnoobs Hotel room hidden camera sex

vanny walks in on William on the computer
Vanny: William, what are you doing?
William:well you see Vanessa, after I killed those 5 kids I went on a vacation for a couple weeks and when I got back no one suspected me, now that you have killed those 4 kids at the mall we gotta get outta here fast.
Vanny: that makes sense, where are we going?
William: Brazil do know what Brazil is famous for right?
William: yes I know they had a lot of virus cases, but the virus got cured years ago!
Vanny:they also have a high crime rate...
William:ok, start packing, we leave tonight, our plane leaves at around 10:00 pm
Vanny: whatever you say
on the plane to rio de janeniro, William and vanny are asleep, amazingly not snoring, suddenly a baby starts to cry, waking them up
William:ngh- stupid kid, I should go shut him up
Vanny:William, dont, do you really wanna get in trouble?
William: well no...
Vanny:ok, now go back to sleep.
william closes his eyes, the baby cries again, William gives in to his temper
everyone looks at William, the baby stops
William:that’s better.
william slips on a sleeping mask and falls asleep, vanny sighs
Vanny:please don’t be like this the rest of the trip William.
the plane lands in rio, soon william and vanny are in there hotel, the desk clerk is waiting to check them in
William:hey Vanessa, I’m gonna check us in in Portuguese
Vanny:William I’m pretty sure he understands English
William: Vanessa I took Portuguese lessions in 12th grade, I can do this
william clears his throat
William;Olá, eu acho que você é estúpido e feio, seu idiota
The desk clerk looks mad and starts to walk off
Vanny: wait! He was just trying to impress me with his language skills! Come back!
the desk clerk nods and checks them in, as they enter the elevator vanny speaks
Vanny:William do me a favour and don’t speak Portuguese again for the rest of the time we’re here ok?
as part of there first day of there vacation William and vanny are touring the Amazon rainforest
The tour guide: you don’t wanna fall in the river, there are pirañas, they can reduce you to bone in minutes.
William:I see some! I’m gonna take a photo!
william takes a photo but slips and falls in, the pirañas start to bite him
william runs onto shore, and into bushes he runs out chased by snakes
william runs into more bushes, when he runs out birds are pecking him
william lies down on the shore with pirañas still biting him, vanny and the tour guide run to him
The tour guide: he’s gonna be fine, just some scars
the tour guide pulls off the pirañas, and continues the tour, William and vanny follow him, vanny is laughing at William
Vanny:I’m so sorry it’s just so funny!
Later that day,vanny and William are now in front of Christ the redeemer
William:who’s this big bozo? He dosent look so impressive!
Vanny:that’s jesus William
William:oh, why so many people for a big statue of Jesus?
Vanny: well william, Brazil is a very Christian state
suddently a Brazilian guy walks up to vanny
Brazilian guy: well well, what have we here? What’s a beauty like you in a place like this?
Brazilian guy: well she’s mine now!
William:I’m not giving her up without a fight!
Brazilian guy: how bout a dance fight? You pick the form, and whoever wins get this pretty lady.
William:deal, let’s make it a samba off!
Vanny: William what are you doing! He’s Brazilian! He knows how to samba more than he knows how to breathe!
William: I also took samba lessons in 12th grade Vanessa
Vanny: lets hope your samba skills are better than your Portuguese
the samba off begins, William is actually pretty good! He ends up winning
William:HAHA! I win!
the Brazilian guy punches William, so hard that glitchtrap flies out of the body and lands in front of vanny, he jumps back into his body and punches the guy back, they get in a fight and William wins
William: lets go
Vanny: don’t have to tell me twice
On the second day, William and vanny went sightseeing, it was eventful enough, for dinner they stopped in a self serve restaurant called “divino fogão”, William loads up his plate with a food he liked when he tested it, he downs it in minutes
William:ah, that was good, hey, what’s in this stuff?
Vanny: I’ll google it, it says the main ingredients are chicken and pork
William:c-chicken and pork?
flashback to Williams childhood, when he’s in the doctors office with his parents after he barfed a lot
The doctor:well mr and mrs afton, your son William just has a rare genetic individuality, when he eats certain types of food he pukes
Williams mom:what types of food?
The doctor: radishes, spinach, pork, and chicken, cut them out of his diet and he will stop puking
flashback to the present, William is Turing green
Vanny: are you ok william?
William:I-I need to use the bathroom
william runs to the bathroom and pukes up his entire day of food,eventually he steps out
Vanny: are you ok?
William: yeah, it’s just I can’t eat pork or chicken.
Vanny: I’ll keep that in mind
William: well, best be heading back to the hotel eh?
on the third day William and Vanny go to"Cinemark" to watch "Rio"
William: So, this movie is... pretty much a resume of Brazilian culture?
Vanny: that's basically what I heard about it!
William: ok, ok. I'll buy the tickets, you buy the popcorn and drinks.
Vanny: and snacks?
William: sighs Fine.
Vanny: Yes!
the movie goes on, and as it's about to end, Vanny and William both go for a sip of the Coca-Cola Vanny bought earlier, accidentally kissing right on the lips
awkward silence
after the movie:
Vanny: s-so, um...did you like it?
William, red as a pepper: the kiss?
Vanny: what? I mean, that too... but, I was talking about the movie. insert shy schoolgirl attitude
William: I mean, yeah. I guess it was alright. smirking both were alright.
Vanny, blushing: WILL!
on the fifth day, William and vanny were just walking down a street, still awkward about there accidental kiss, suddenly a explosion happens near them, knocking both of them down, and knocking vanny unconscious
William:ngh-hurts-Vanessa? Vanessa!!!
william drags vanny to paramedics, they rush her to a hospital, while William waits for vanny to wake up a special news report flashes on the TV
The news reporter: two people are dead and one in hospital after a explosion in rio de Janeiro minutes ago, the person in hospital, a American tourist, is in the hospital unconscious, the police says it was a terrorist attack launched by the “sons of Pedro” a terrorist organization dedicated to reintegrating imperial power.
Vanny: William can you turn that down?
William:sure...wait...Vanessa your alive!!!
Vanny: of course I am! You think one teeny tiny explosion is gonna kill me?
William:you never know
vanny is checked out and found safe to leave, as they walk out of the hospital vanny smiles at William
Vanny: thanks for being there for me william.
William: I always will be Vanessa, after all, what’s the fun of killing kids yourself when you can get someone to do it for you?
a few days after the explosion, William and vanny decided to go to the beach!
William:nice day
Vanny:yep, as nice as your laugh swimsuit which is covered in pictures of toast.
William: I like toast ok?
william is out pretty far in the water while vanny is on shore
William:hey Vanessa! Check out my bodyboarding skills!
william catches a wave, but falls off his board and the current takes him to shore, he spits out water like a whale, vanny walks to him
Vanny:you good “master body boarder”?
William:yeah, although I could use some mouth to mouth
Vanny, kinda blushing: William stop.
on the 10th day, William and vanny find a soccer ball and start to play a game of soccer, William and vanny are equally matched
William:you are looking at the record holder for the most goals on the soccer team at Cornell university!
Vanny: I went to Cornell too, I think I broke that record!
William:nice way to steal someone’s thunder!
william scores
William:YES!!! Still got it!!!
vanny scores while William is gloating
Vanny: you were saying?
William: I can see why soccer players beat each over up so much.
Vanny: I think that’s just the fans William
On the 11th day william and vanny did nothing really worth mentioning, when they got back to there room it was trashed
Vanny:they took almost all my stuff!
William:it was probably the guy I beat in that dance off
vanny turns around, mad
William:Vanessa calm down!
Vanny storms out and William follows, there in the parking lot of the hotel when he catches her
William:Vanessa! Stop! Where are you gonna go now? They’ll catch you! You killed four kids! You’ll be thrown in jail!
Vanny:Jail would be better than spending another SECOND WITH YOU!
William: fine, leave, I don’t care
but as they start to walk off, two men come out of a black van parked beside them, put bags over there heads, throw them in, and drive off
william wakes up, he’s tied up, beside vanny, who’s tied up as well, there in the Amazon, surrounded by guys with guns, one guy walks to him, William recognizes him
William:hey your the guy who I beat in the dance off!
The guy:that’s right, did you think taking your stuff was enough to get me even with you?
Vanny:you took our stuff?
The guy: yes, and we’re gonna take your lives, but first we gotta make some money off of it
the guy starts a video camera
The guy:hello American government, this is the sons of Pedro, we have two of you tourists captive, if you pay us 20 million dollars we will let them go, you have 24 hours
the guy stops the Camera and becons one of his guy’s over
william spits on the guy
The guy:your gonna regret that
the guy pulls off Williams sunglasses, william closes his eyes, he didn’t want them to see that they were purple or else he would have him shot, William had a plan, but he needed vanny on his side to do it
william leans over to vanny
William:ok Vanessa, I know you don’t have the highest opinion of me right now, but I have a plan to get us out, but you have to trust me
Vanny: ok, I trust you william
And with that, Williams plan begun, he started to cut his ropes with a hidden blade in his shirt sleeve, cutting it so much that he could force is way free, on of the sons of Pedro walks to him
The son of Pedro: open your eyes scumbag.
William: you don’t wanna see my eyes
The son of Pedro: OPEN THEM!
William:are you sure?
The son of Pedro: YES!
William: ok...
william opens his eyes, they were bright purple, the son of Pedro stumbles back, William forces his way free and stabs him with the hidden blade, then he grabbed the guys gun and tossed a knife the guy had to vanny
William: cut yourself free and grab his pistol!
vanny does as she is told, William begins to shoot the other sons of Pedro
Vanny: how do you know how to shoot like that?
William:the army
Vanny:you were in the army?
William: it’s not the time ok?
eventually all the sons of Pedro are dead except for the guy who william beat in the dance off
The guy: you win
william shoots the guy and stops the video uploading to the American media, preventing a fiasco
William:Vanessa, the stuff they stole from you is on the table over there, grab it and follow me
vanny grabs her stuff and follows William out of the Amazon
William: so are we good now?
Vanny hugs william
William:I’ll take that as a yes
As part of there final day in Brazil, William and vanny decide to go to the carnival festivities, William is marveling are the weirdly dressed girls
William:hey Vanessa! These girls dress weirder than you!
Vanny: i dont dress weird!
William: says the one who wears a rabbit costume to kill kids!
Vanny: you did too!
William: touché
as the festival drags on, William and vanny are dancing, with each over
Vanny: your a good dancer!
William: you honestly think samba was the only lessions I took?
Vanny: honestly yes.
William: laugh I need to tell you more about me when we get home
much later
Vanny: William can you do me a favour?
William:ask away
Vanny: kiss me
william spits out the water he was drinking
William: what?!? Vanessa I can’t kiss you! I’m 80! Your 30 something!
Vanny: 35
William: yeah! The age difference!
Vanny: you might be 80 but your possessing a 33 year old man who looks just like you.
William:yeah but....
Vanny: and you saved our lives!! You honestly think i wouldn’t wanna kiss you after that?
William: oh fine...only once
Vanny: I can live with that
William: ok lets see if I can remember this, I haven’t intentionally kissed someone in a long time, ok, hands around waist, pull close, close eyes and...
william and vanny kiss, intentionally this time, after a while will pulls off for air
William: that was...
Vanny: intoxicating
William: you took the words out of my mouth
Vanny: guess we traded more than salvia
william laughs
Vanny: so are we a thing now?
William:yeah, we’re a thing now
william and vanny were sitting back in vanny’s apartment, recounting there vacation, but there holding hands
Vanny: remember when you got bit by those pirañas?
William:yeah, remember when I saved your life twice?
Vanny:yeah, that was a pretty eventful vacation
suddently a notification goes off on vanny’s phone, when she checks it she goes pale
William:what’s wrong Vanessa?
Vanny:they named the prime suspect in the murders I did at the mall.
William: is it you?
Vanny: no.
William:then who is it?
Vanny:William, they named you the prime suspect
Vanny: this is bad
William: wait.....they have no idea where I am, or if I’m alive! I’m fine!
Vanny: you sure?
William:yeah, I’m sure
Vanny: ok, so william, you said you were in the army?
William:that is correct, served 4 years in the British army in Vietnam.
Vanny:care to tell me a story?
William: for you Vanessa? Of all started at my parents house one fine morning in 1964
submitted by gregrektsnoobs to Vanilliam [link] [comments]

2020.08.06 15:32 Eki75 Sex hotel hidden camera room

Previous Section-Part 2B
Chapter 9
Highways and dead ends The hunt for Xavier Ligonnès is enough to drive you crazy. It’s like looking for a lost object, a bank card for example, of which we can determine the exact moment of disappearance: we used it to pay, it was there, and the next moment it is not there anymore. Logic dictates that we look for it where we usually store it (a wallet, a handbag), then where it could be (a back pocket of pants, a hall cabinet), and the less we find it , the more we seem to see it everywhere. Faced with absence, the brain constructs images (the credit card in an office drawer, as a bookmark in a book, forgotten on the counter of the last store) but these are fictions or mirages; they encourage further research but they do not provide a solution. Xavier Ligonnès’s apparent volatilization follows the same logic and produces the same effects on the investigation. The more weeks and months go by, the more places to look get smaller. Emmanuel Teneur ends up leading the investigators to the Société Générale agency on Place Royale in Nantes, but the safe he holds there is simply empty. A request for information on Joven Soliman is sent to the security attaché for the French Embassy in the Philippines. He is a sedevacantist priest, a fringe of traditionalist Catholicism who considers the Pope to be an imposter. The attaché transmits the hours of mass where he officiates. A trip to the Philippines is being considered, but that would mean going to the other side of the world to look for a needle in the thousands of islands of the archipelago. If this track has never been closed, nothing has supported it to date.
Since we must push logic to the end, the investigators even contact the American authorities to corroborate or contradict the story of protected witnesses told by Ligonnès in his famous letter. The DEA has never heard of the individual, and the liaison officer based at the Miami consulate assures us that his last trip to the United States was in 2003: Ligonnès arrived in Florida on July 18 and left on August 22. The study of his entourage also did not highlight anyone capable of providing false papers to the fugitive, and if he had gone through a criminal network, the police believed that an informant would undoubtedly have warned them to protect himself.
Then there are the news reports: the portrait of Ligonnès goes around France, and even if he has undoubtedly changed his physical appearance, his hairstyle, perhaps had even resorted to cosmetic surgery, someone, somewhere, might recognize him one day. After all, that’s how John List, a New Jersey insurance salesman who killed his wife and mother in 1971, was arrested. He waited for two of his children to return from school to coldly shoot them, then attended his youngest son’s football game before shooting bullets through him at home. He evaded justice for 18 years until a co-worker recognized him from a report on America’s Most Wanted.
Rarely has a criminal case given rise to as many appeals as that of Ligonnès, because his stalking not only bewitches the police, it torments an entire country. More than 1000 reports, thousands of pages of depositions, letters, verifications. You have to imagine the miles of printed paper that this represents when they are stacked on a desk. The most recent: in July, after the broadcast of a Netflix documentary on the subject in the United States, the producers of the film claimed to have received an interesting lead in Chicago; but it’s just one more drop in the bucket. Xavier Dupont de Ligonnès has been seen in Annecy, Nancy, Cholet, Corsica (several times); on the side of a road, thumbs up, by a French tourist in Las Vegas; disguised as a chimney sweep in Nîmes; in a hotel in Cantal and in a pizzeria where he paid cash in a hurry; seen again in Germany, in Italy, and heard on the telephone by the reception of the psychiatric hospital of Troyes. Since he disappeared looking like the ordinary neighbor, since he was a representative and his profession has taken him to all corners of France, there is no less reason to see him in Mulhouse than in Roche-sur-Yon, and you can simply see him everywhere.
Extracts: “It was the same look, except that he looked very sad, in the west, but he had the same glasses as in the photo you are showing me”; “He looked like a man like everyone else, but there was something odd in his eyes;” “Yesterday, around 1:00 pm, I was watching the news on television on the TFI channel. I saw a report where an individual killed his children and his wife before disappearing into the wild. (...) Seeing the gentleman in the photo, I made the connection with the person whom I had crossed Sunday afternoon because he had the same smile.” At the Vauvert tourist office: “I hardly look at the news, but Thursday evening I saw the photo of Mr. Ligonnès, I had the impression of having already seen him, my heart was racing.” Between Carpentras and Avignon, when he comes back from the bakery, the manager of one of Nicolas Sarkozy’s brothers crosses paths with a man with a beige bob, which he is certain is the fugitive. “I flashed,” he says. “For me, there is no doubt. This is him.” Still more letters are sent to the police to offer them help. An amateur astrologer requests a copy of the suspect’s birth certificate to establish a birth chart, a woman in child-like writing recommended a great medium who had helped her find her daughter who had become a junkie in Marseille. A prisoner asked in writing to be sent to Guinea to go hunt him down in the jungle, attaching to his letter a list of the necessary equipment, including infrared glasses and a “samurai sword.”
With each letter, with each phone call to report a suspicious individual, investigators attempt to cross-reference the information. They patiently collect the testimonies of the depositors to know where Xavier Ligonnès was seen, if he was accompanied or not, what was his size and his outfit. Inconsistent testimonies or those referring to individuals who are too young (Ligonnès would be 59 years old today) and too small (he measures a little over 1.80 meters) are discarded. For the others, investigators check the CCTV recordings, when they have not been erased and when the cameras have actually recorded on tape. If the person has been spotted pumping gasoline, in a Géant Casino, or in a Courtepaille, they trace the means of payment used and seize the duplicates of bank cards. They give priority to the restaurants, especially the Buffalo Grill, Ligonnès’ favorite establishment. And when the trail is still hot and the dishes haven’t been done yet, they collect DNA from the plates and cutlery. A few months after the start of the investigation, the investigating judge in charge of the case will even be forced to ask them to slow down, the seals starting to take on the appearance of a china cabinet in a large restaurant.
The PJ of Nantes believed on several occasions to finally have in hand the winning ticket and to be on the point of intercepting Ligonnès. This was the case in Borgo, where a photo taken from the video surveillance of a supermarket in this small Corsican town was very similar. Upon verification, it was only a local. They believed in it even more in January 2018 when they were told that an individual with a strong resemblance to Xavier Ligonnès was at the Saint-Désert Notre-Dame de Pitié monastery near Roquebrune-sur-Argens. About twenty police officers raided and searched the premises until they came across Brother Jean-Marie Joseph, who certainly looked disturbingly like Ligonnès, but who was not him. In still other cases, the police were never able to “close the track,” and it is perhaps Ligonnès who was seen.
For example, in Lançon-Provence, April 26, 2011. That day, at 2:44 am, Mahjoub B., a handler by profession, parks his vehicle at the Total service station after the Lançon-Provence toll. He fills up, then goes to the store to pay. On his way, he passes a 45- to 50-year-old man, about six feet tall, who hangs out there between the gas pumps and the store. When he returns to his vehicle, his colleague asks him if he has seen the man, whom he is convinced is the one everyone is looking for, the one who killed his family in Nantes. Mahjoub then takes a new look at the individual, notices that he is wearing glasses, light jeans, that he has brown hair a little graying and a beard of a day. At his feet, four rigid shopping bags, one red, one white, one brown and one whose color he cannot distinguish. Inside the store, employees also noticed the individual. He’s been out for almost three hours. At one point, he walks in to ask for free coffee, as part of a promotion. Behind her cash register, Jocelyne H. notes a detail: he is missing a tooth. “The second on the left, I believe,” she says when heard by investigators. This is information that has never filtered out and yet, it’s true – a little detail, Xavier Ligonnès was missing a tooth. Little by little, the space has filled in, but you can always see it when he smiles. The images from the station’s surveillance cameras are confusing: if this man is not the one we are looking for, it must be his twin brother. At 3 a.m., the cameras show him hitchhiking by a Volkswagen Combi, which investigators quickly find. The driver’s name is Christophe B. He has not heard of the case, and he must be one of the only ones in the country; but Christophe is no longer listening to the news because, he says, “the news is bad all the time.” From the hitchhiker on the night of the 25th to the 26th, he remembers that he “did not smell very good” and that he had a growing beard. They didn’t discuss much. The man simply told him that he was coming from Paris where he had gone to see “his sick old father,” and that he wanted to take the train to Aix-en-Provence. Christophe dropped him off at a motorway exit, the 30 or the 31, between 4 a.m. and 4.15 a.m. The surveillance cameras at Aix train station allow you to get back on track. He is filmed on the forecourt at 6 am, he wears light pants, a dark jacket. He buys a ticket at 1.20 euro, free destination. Then we lose track.
Despite all the checks, despite all the cameras, it will be impossible to track this man perfectly resembling Dupont de Ligonnès, who could nevertheless have confirmed that he was, at least on this date, still alive.
How can one suddenly evaporate in plain sight, and how could a man who has collected chess all his life accomplish this feat? The XDDL mystery makes it possible to scaffold all the theories. These flourish in books, in docudramas and, of course, on the Internet. We imagine Ligonnès protected by the secrecy of a monastery, flown to the United States, where he can go unnoticed thanks to his English without an accent, or even on the escape alongside a woman he would have manipulated. The police officers in charge of the case do not work on theories or psychological profiles, but according to a scientific approach: they always start from a fact, which opens a track, which they then explore until the end, close, and move on to another. This method is also a way to protect yourself from endless guesswork, or insanity, but it doesn’t always work. Several times, the track looks like a highway towards the fugitive, and the police are convinced that they will finally close this investigation. But they end up stumbling upon the worst thing ever, as was the case with the allusion to Emmanuel Teneur’s sailboat: coincidences.
Coincidence number 1. When the Ligonnès C5 was discovered in the Formula 1 car park in Roquebrune, the night watchman informed them that two reservations had been made in the name of Dupont Xavier, one on April 5 and the another on April 14. The hotel manager then specifies that the first reservation was actually made for April 6. That day, however, XDDL was in Nantes, probably digging the grave of Thomas, murdered the day before. Had he thought of accomplishing his crimes earlier or had he reserved a room for an accomplice, who might have been hiding something for him? The videos of April 5 and 6 are no longer available, but payment for the room was made with a Crédit Agricole credit card. The number gives a name, Faiçal E., and an address. Could it be an accomplice? The checks are launched immediately lead to a man who simply used “Dupont Xavier” as an assumed name - like Ligonnès - to book a night in the same hotel, the same year, the same month, within ten days.
Coincidence number 2. The liaison officer in Miami launches research around the various aliases used by XDDL, for operations of “mystery shopper” or to stay in hotels. In the FBI file, he finds a certain Xavier Laurent, one of Ligonnès’s favorite nicknames, installed in Jacksonville, north of Florida. Jacksonville is not just any city. This is where Hugues, the cousin of XDDL lived, and it is also this locality that Ligonnès and his friend Michel Rétif declared to customs in 1990 during their trip to the United States. At the very end of the personalized letter sent to Michel on April 8, Xavier Ligonnès seemed to allude to it: “I will think about you there. (Not the right to tell you where, but you went there with November 90…a clue to dig. LOL).” But this Xavier Laurent is another twist of fate: the police come across a certain Evan Shaffer, a petty criminal who has chosen this alias to commit crimes.
Coincidence number 3. Ten days before the crimes, XDDL reconnects with a childhood sweetheart, Catherine K., whom he met in Versailles in the 1980s. Between March 22 and 24, they exchange text messages and try to find a date to meet the week of April 12, in Chamonix. These messages intrigue the investigators, some answers seem surprising, almost illogical, and they suspect Ligonnès of having wanted to ensure a logistical relay in his escape. A little later, a certain Patrick O. reports having seen XDDL in the queue of a Sixt car rental agency at Nice airport on April 17, 2011. By peeling the names of dozens of people having rented a car that day, the police officers miss the infarction: in capital letters, white on black, appears the surname of Catherine, who would have rented a vehicle at 1:30 am. A few hours later, their heart rate drops again: it was only a perfect disambiguation.
Each coincidence causes the same chain of reactions. First a eureka!, the certainty of having finally found the tiny detail from which to trace everything. The police then cast their nets like fishermen on the high seas, telephone or banking requisitions, requests for listings, identity checks. Then they wait. It can last from a few hours to several weeks, and inevitably it is a burning, nagging wait, tense by the fear that the track will fly away. Finally, there is the immense disappointment and the obligation to face reality again: Xavier Ligonnès is still nowhere to be found, a track has flown again, and we have to hoist the rock up the mountain again. Those who have worked or are still working on the affair strive to maintain a cold, rational, police facade. But little by little, by dint of chasing a shadow - not even a shadow, a ghost - obsession lurks. One of them, a police officer with a professional Protestant pastor, now out of the investigation, still returned until recently to consult the investigation file every week, saying he simply wanted to put the 12,000 pages of documents in order. For a year, a criminal analyst has also been mobilized. He enters all the elements of the file in a software which digests them and spits out, perhaps, new threads to draw. In the meantime, the two police officers who are still following the investigation - one at the PJ in Nantes, one at the OCRVP, in Paris - “live” the case, as their colleagues say. Among these thousands of pages there is no doubt a clue that has gone unnoticed or, better, a lead that has not yet been explored.
Track number 1. Who typed “fraternité saint-thomas becket” on Google on April 3 at 11:34 pm, before clicking on a link in the Cité-Catholique forum? Is it the same person who, the same night at 2:01 am, from an iPhone, did the search for “communion state mortal sin,” bringing it to the same forum? On April 8, the user of this phone will in any case send the search engine the request “hello Chacou”, which will lead him (her) again to the Cité-Catholique forum. Chacou was one of the pseudonyms of Xavier Ligonnès. Investigators saw crazier coincidences, but still: can it really be someone other than Xavier Ligonnès, who himself connected to Cité-Catholique almost every day of his escape? The last article published on the site about Saint-Thomas Becket, an ultra-traditionalist fraternity which practices mass in Latin, dates from January 2009. It indicates the name of its founder, Father Jean-Pierre Gac, and specifies this: “Born in the diocese of Blois where there are two communities (…), the fraternity has also extended in the diocese of Toulon - a parish is also entrusted to them in Ollioules.” Ollioules is located six kilometers from La Seyne-on-Mer, where XDDL spent its penultimate known night, and 94 kilometers from Roquebrune. Jean-Pierre Gac was questioned by the police but claimed to have never been in contact with the fugitive. Investigators have always believed in the possibility that Ligonnès took refuge in a monastery in the Var. They considered to search them one by one, before understanding that there are dozens and dozens of brotherhoods and fraternities, that they are not always castles of the Purple Rivers but sometimes simple farms, lost in the hinterland. To mount a search, it would be necessary to ensure that they do not communicate with each other, and therefore to visit them all at the same time. The examining magistrate quickly tempered the fervor of the police and declared the operation impossible.
Track number 2. Xavier Ligonnès had two secret Facebook accounts. The first is named after his favorite country singer, Waylon Jennings. One of his nieces had also found him a month before the crimes, sending him a message, “but who is behind this nickname?,” to which XDDL had immediately replied “How did you manage to arrive on the Waylon Jennings Facebook profile? Too clever! Microsoft Advantage??? Kiss.” The second account concerns a certain “George Town” residing in Nantes and is linked to one of Ligonnès’ many email addresses, []( The police send a requisition to the management of Facebook in Palo Alto to obtain the creation and connection logs of the two profiles. The answer comes in days: the first was created in February 2010, the second in December 2007, when France had barely discovered the social network. Above all, the response indicates that Ligonnès connected to the two accounts on the night of April 4 to 5, between the first assassinations and that of Thomas. The profiles have since been deleted but suggest he could have used them to communicate with a third party. Catherine K., the youthful lover that XDDL contacted a few days before the tragedy, also reported to the police that she had been approached by a certain Philippe Steiner, whom she did not know, around May 20. He sent her a strange message, suggesting that they might have had a relationship in the past. When she went to respond, the profile had already been deleted. Today there are almost 100 Facebook accounts on behalf of Waylon Jennings, some are created and deleted every day.
Track number 3. When the Ligonnès family is having their last meal on April 3, 2011, around 9 pm, a young woman walks through the glass doors of the police station on Place Waldeck-Rousseau in Nantes. Originally from a small village near Vannes, Julie is a BTS student and comes to file a complaint: the Twingo that her father lets her drive has been broken into, probably during the night. There was not much inside, but Julie reported the theft of her car radio as well as the vehicle’s logbook, which she normally stored in a small Renault gray faux leather pouch. This same pouch was found on April 22 in the dresser of the Ligonnès living room where Xavier used to store his papers, during the investigation the day after the discovery of the bodies. The police did not follow this track: they put the break-in of Julie’s car on the account of one of the Ligonnès sons, Arthur, who had already been arrested for theft of a bicycle and driving under the influence of cannabis. But why would Arthur have taken the vehicle papers with the car stereo, and why would he put them in the middle of his father’s papers? And if the theft was committed by Xavier Ligonnès a few hours before killing his family, how can this be explained? Was he able to steal other identity papers to facilitate his escape?
In this case, it is always about cars. Those imported by XDDL from the United States, the Citroën C5 from the escape, the vehicles he claimed had been stolen over the years: the first at the Brest police station in 1998, while living in Pornic, a second at the same time at the Saint-Nazaire police station, and then again, in Nantes, on May 17, 2006, a Golf convertible finally found then sold a few months later to a mechanic, a friend of Cédric M.
Cédric M. is never far away when it comes to cars. He is also a mechanic, that’s how Ligonnès met him in Vannes a few years earlier. He is one of the recipients of the departure letter, therefore a close friend. He was even the first employee of the RDC. Ligonnès regularly went to visit him in Locmalo in the heart of Morbihan, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Nantes. With Cédric and his partner, Renaud, they went to the local creperie. They had lunch there together on March 31, 2011, four days before the crimes. In the village, it is said that Ligonnès took care of the dark accounts of the “guys,” who have quite a reputation. Could he have built up a slush fund there that no one would have found until now? Cédric and Renaud’s garage is not indicated by any sign. It is at the end of a road. In the yard, wrecks of American cars and a goat on a leash. Inside, Renaud is working on a shiny yellow Cadillac. His attitude is confusing. He is angry with the police who have never come to question him when he is, according to him, “the last to have seen [Xavier] alive. But I will not tell you when, because that the date is important,” he adds before returning to his Cadillac, wrench in hand.
To date, Renaud has still not been heard by investigators.
At the same time, reports continue to flow.
Ligonnès seen in Mulhouse, on the four lanes between Saint-Brieuc and Rennes in a Peugeot 308 and overtaking on the right, Ligonnès seen again in Tunis and Toulouse.
Ligonnès seen, but never caught.

Next Section-Part 2D
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2020.08.06 13:22 lynx_elia Hotel room hidden camera sex

He sits in the laundromat. Looks at the latest folly in his hand. Just a bunch of numbers:
Thirty-seven (age). Grey hairs appearing.
Twenty (kilometres over the speed limit, caught on camera). The 'last straw'. Her words.
Thirteen (hotel room number). Unlucky, just like him.
One (wine-stained shirt). Last dinner together.
Twelve (days until he'll see his daughter). Can't wait.
Three (ex-wives). Well, soon-to-be.
Forty (minutes until the wash cycle finished).
Zero (chance of him ever winning). With this Lotto ticket. Or with life.
But they don't let you choose zero.
He tucks away the ticket.
Watches the dryer spin.
100 word story inspired by the Flash Fiction Challenge - July on WritingPrompts
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2020.08.06 06:27 BB-Boleyn Hotel room hidden camera sex

Part 1
Stan - my deranged stalker - has been turning up at different places: A fan, a roadie, a check-in agent, a pilot ... it’s beyond weird.
Houston, Texas.
Janie, my publicist has a surprise for me. After tonight’s show my boyfriend is coming to stay with me for the night: Brandon St John - professional wrestler.
It was what they call a “Showmance”. I’d met Paul, or Brandon as he was known to fans only 6-7 times. Janie’s sister was a wrestling promoter and put us in touch. Janie guessed it’d be good for my image. We had a few dates but suddenly People magazine were calling us 2020’s most powerful Super Couple. What an accolade. Our six dates had already netted us millions as a couple. Despite this we were still attracted to each other and it seemed to be working - so far.
Brandon met me after the show. He’d just “won” the Royal Rumble and was enjoying the publicity. Turning up at my show only amplified that. The press were rife.
I left the stage after our encore and Brandon met me. We walked the long walk to the dressing room pursued by Press.
A strange older lady intercepted me en route, her eyes crazed and hair a mess: “do not look at the outsider journalist - i beg you!” And with that, she turned down a side corridor at the arena and vanished.
”Ms Boleyn - when are you and Mr St John making things official?!”
”Do you want a baby hon?!”
”Brandon how does it feel to be Royal Rumble Champion for 2020?”
Then there he was. Stan. In a long trenchcoat with a notebook like some old-timey reporter. Just like he was dressing up for the part.
“Betty honey, what message do you have for your number one fan?!”
I stopped walking, frozen in fear. The cameras flashed.
Where was Tony?
Nowhere to be seen.
This is where you step in Tony - you really are the worst bodyguard...
Stan stopped abruptly, halting the crowd of journalists behind him. He shuffled two steps closer and inches from my face he said softly: “ 2nd Chance to say yes to me. You don’t want to regret this, honey!”
Brandon wasn’t even fighting my corner! He stood, staring deadpan into the middle distance.
“Have a look at my notes!” Stan whispered excitedly, pushing forward his notebook with a maniacal grin on his face. Then he fled.
Lightbulbs flashing all around, I reluctantly thumb through the notebook.
It’s not a scrapbook of images like last night. In some ways it’s more weird. It’s a transcript - a detailed and frighteningly accurate word for word account of everything I have said today since I woke up this morning.
The strange older lady appears again behind the journalists - shaking her head in frustration.
Paul - “Brandon” and I returned to the penthouse and within seconds he was shirtless. I’d been looking forward to this for weeks.
I fixed us a double scotch.
There was an urgent knock at the door.
Brandon rolled his eyes and went to see who it was.
Stan stooped in at speed wearing a suit and carrying a gun marching straight to the bedroom door - Almost as if he already knew the layout of the room.
“Tony asked me to keep watch tonight” he announced and took a seat by the bedroom door. Just pretend I’m not here”.
“No! Get out you creepy shit - I’m not having you sit outside the bedroom as we’re ....”
“It’s cool, babe” says Brandon. “He’s just keeping us safe”
What kind of man is ok with this?!
“No, this is the crazy stalker I told you about ... it’s not ok!! I want him out”.
Text from Janie: “Have a good rest - will get you at 12:00 tomorrow”.
I frantically text back: “he’s here in the room - get Tony quickly!”
A red ! appears - the message fails to send.
I look at Brandon, exasperated. I can’t believe he doesn’t care about Stan being here. It’s the first alone time we’ve had in months.
“Babe honestly it’s fine just pretend he isn’t here”. Still not comfortable with it I visit the bathroom and freshen up. When I return, Stan and Brandon/Paul have switched places.
Stan is in bed, naked and Brandon is sitting guard looking comotose. No reaction, no blinking. Is he even breathing?! He looks dead to the world. I rush over to check on him.
Stan smiles at me, leaps out of bed and lunges at me again with that filthy grey cloth. He smothers my face. The room spins and i pass out.
”Wake up call for Ms Boleyn”
I bolt upright. Sunlight ploughs through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse. I look around. I’m alone. No Stan and no Brandon. Not even a trace of them either. Weird.
My phone has died. I have no idea what time it is but I know I need to be up and ready by 12:00. I turn on the TV.
Hollywood airhead gossip columnist Carli Carlsson is on screen, busting at the seams to release whatever inside scoop she has. In front of a huge crowd she swings round to face the camera:
”Guys, I’m in Houston, Texas and it’s with a heavy heart I report to you today that Paul D Austin, known to fans as WWE Superstar Brandon St John has died aged 37 at the Metropole Hotel, downtown Houston. Consuela Gonzalez, a housekeeper at the hotel found the sports star hanging in his room at 7:30am this morning. A note left close by blamed his girlfriend, the British rock star BB Boleyn as the reason behind his suicide. This is Carli Carlsson, for Inside Scoop, TMZ!”
Before I could even digest this news, Tim, Tony and Janie burst into my room, dressing me and pouring me into an outside car.
Phoenix, Arizona.
“Sullivan Saxe” said Janie my publicist. “He’s the CEO of the hottest new social media site”.
“Janie, he is 24! 10 years younger than me!”
“It would be so HOT!” She insisted.
“Janie, my boyfriend’s dead - why don’t you care?!”.
She shrugged it off as if we’d simply broken up. Not that he had killed himself blaming me.
“It wasn’t a real relationship you know that”.
“I don’t buy his suicide note either - look you know Stan was in the room ...”
“No more details have been released! You just need to get over it!” She snapped.
“Look, I’m not ready for a new relationship, ok? I need to process what’s happened. This has really shocked me, Janie!”
She didn’t care. Narrowing her eyes, pursing her lips and peering into the distance she tapped her chin, deep in thought.
“Hmmm, come to think of it you do sell more music when you’re single” she mused.
My phone pinged.
“We need to get ready for tonight”.
An unknown number. I knew exactly who it was - and I dreaded tonight’s show.
Janie left me alone in my dressing room an hour before the show. She never leaves me alone.
My new make-up artist entered. She smelt bad.
She looked .... odd.
She looked at me in the mirror.
“Hello Honey! I’m thinking a classic Vintage Hollywood look tonight - red lips, strong eyebrows? Dramatic hair ...”
She looked so familiar.
She made up my face beautifully. My hair however was a different story.
Leaning down slowly behind me to my right shoulder and looking at me in the mirror, she put a hand to her face and slowly pulled off a prosthetic mask revealing herself to be Stan, grinning at me like the cat that got the cream. I gasped but before I could move he aggressively slapped handcuffs on my right wrist locking me to the bar under the chair arm - then matched it again with a new pair on my left wrist. Smiling and sniggering like a lunatic looking at me in the mirror he slowly began to shave my head. My thick, lucious, platinum blonde locks dropped pathetically to the floor as he transformed my long Barbie doll hair into a short, shaved crop. I squirmed and ducked in the chair desperately trying to escape the clippers.
Pain filled my nose and throat as i started to cry. My beautiful long hair. All the things that made me famous he was taking away from me - first my musical knowledge, my breast implants, my A List boyfriend and now my hair.
He finished the shave with a proud “ta-da!”
Gone was the sexy alter ego I spent years creating. I looked as deranged as Stan.
“If I can’t have you, nobody else can” he declared with a cocky and arrogant smirk.
“And now?!” He sang, smiling at me in the mirror. Then spun my chair round to face him: “IT’S SHOWTIME!”
There was no extra time. The opening act had been done for 35 minutes.
Opening the dressing room door, he sprinted at breakneck speed through the backstage corridors pushing me in the chair, manically laughing over and over. Whooping and cheering and sneering at me.
Arriving at the stage and with great speed - so much so I couldn’t process what was happening - he released the handcuffs, yanked me up by the back of my shirt, swung my Guitar across my shoulder and shoved me forwards towards the thousands of waiting fans.
I staggered onstage to fastly decreasing applause.
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2020.08.05 05:10 Bong-Backpackers Camera hidden room hotel sex

I took a break from my work after a long time for this Barsey rhododendron trek. I was excited as it was my first trek. Last time I was on hill when I was just an eight years old kid. It was Darjeeling and the only memory I had was lost on the way to Tiger Hill and somehow returning back to the hotel. We had a ten-member trek group and the youngest member, Dodo, was only eighteen months old back then. We have booked Padatik express from the Sealdah junction. As per the plan, I met with everyone at the station and came to know that there were two more “trek-virgin” beside me. The plan was to reach Hilley and then go for Barsey rhododendron trek on the next day. Being nomadic, I would to grasp all the misty mountain breeze on the very first trek of mine and also wanted to roam instinctively. We have burrowed everything require for camping. After the overnight journey, we reached at New Jalpaiguri at 8.30 am and had breakfast there. We hired a private car and headed towards Hilly which was approximately 7/8 hrs journey from NJP. On the way to hilley, I was blown away by the scenic beauty of Sikkim, and colours of Teesta. It was bleeding blue in the sky and blooming green in the water. We took a quick break at Jorthang for lunch, and I had my first pork there. After 8 hours of journey, We reached Hilley around 4.30pm.
My first night in a tent: We pitched a tent in front of a hotel for all of us except for Dodo and his parents who stayed in that hotel. I slept inside a tent for the very first time and it was a new experience for me.
Start of Barsey rhododendron trek: The next morning I woke up and unzip the tent and saw sunlight kissing the mountain. Its beauty was beyond my words. After breakfast, we started our trek around 9 am. We paid entry fees of 50 INR per head and 30 INR for the camera. Then we started walking into the woods. It’s a completely new experience for me. It’s an easy trek, but I took small breaks throughout the route. Though it was April, the season of blooming we didn’t have the luck to see many Rhododendrons throughout the trek. It took approximately 4 hours to reach Bharsey. 📷
Dodo is ready for Barsey rhododendron trek We pitched our tents in front of Guraskunj. They charged Rs 100 to for tent pitching. Arindam da, Debanjali di and dodo stayed in Guras Kunj
Lunch in the white: I still remember the moment when Arindam da and Amitava da was cooking under the sky in the afternoon and suddenly snowfall started. Somehow we managed to get a tarpaulin sheet, holding the corners and they were cooking under it. These small moments make a trip memorable. When the snowfall stopped it was almost white everywhere and I had my first lunch on the snow. In the evening, I met some people from Guras Kunj. Surprising I found another bong who was from the same street I belong, in there. We slept early that day……. The next morning I woke up early and witnessed a beautiful golden Mt. Kanchenjunga. I am surely run out of adjectives to describe the moment. The mountain, the sunlight, the chilling breeze, and the age-old trees reminded me that I am alive. After breakfast, we headed towards an unknown destination. Our plan was to camp in the village on the way. The route was stiff but I was enjoying every moment of it, I was walking on those places I saw in movies. It was a picture perfect. Actually, it was more than a picture perfect.
Unexplored Buriakhop: After 5/6 hours long walk through the wood we reached a village called Buriakhop. We camped in front of a house in that village and we received a warm welcome from the villagers. Few villagers came to meet us. We requested a place for dodo and his parents. And they gave us their best room and refused to take anything in return. We stayed there for 2 days. The next day I was asked to cook lunch, and it was a difficult task for me. I stayed in a hostel for four and a half years and I was a good helper for the cook at every party but cooking for 9 people! It was a tough task for me. But somehow I managed to cook with the help of Rahul and passed the test with flying colors. After that, we visited a monastery and roam around the woods.
Dodak: On day 4 we started another journey at 9. It was an easy trek on that day. After 4 hours walk, we reached a village called Dodak. It took some time to find a good place for camping, as most of the surface was bit hard and uneven. After that, we took a bath in nearby falls and it was an amazing feeling. After lunch, I was roaming around, taking pictures, absorbing the last remnant of nature before going back to the concrete jungle.
Singling: The next morning we started our walk at 9.30 am. We reached Singling, our last village of this trip. The place we camped was surrounded by some aromatic plants. I can still take the fragrances with a closed eye. The landlord Dushan Rao was a very nice person. He told about some of the medicinal plants around their houses. The next day he gave us a lift to Jorthang. And I had pork again at the same restaurant. We book a car to NJP and boarded Padatik express to sealdah. That’s the end of this trip.
Return home: As Barsey rhododendron trek was my first trek, this trek was a new beginning for me. I learned too many things from this trip. It was a completely new experience for me. There were lots of things I did that I never did before. I stayed in a tent, took bath in waterfalls, cooked for 9 people, saw snowfall for the first time, witnessed an 18 month kid completing a 7-day trek with his parents, saw how helpful people are. And there were lots of things that I can’t describe in words, those can only be felt. It was the trip from where things started a change in my life.
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2020.08.04 21:15 Erutious Hotel room hidden camera sex

As I pulled up in front of the place, I had to recheck my directions. The shop was dingy, a little hole in the wall place stuffed between a Dollar General and a computer repair shop. It looked like it had just existed here since the creation of the first VHS tape. The windows were covered in thick yellow paper, and the outside was caked in a film of old dirt. The sign on the door said Open, but it was barely visible through the dirty window.

There was no way this place had what I wanted.

When I was a kid, I remembered watching a show on cable called Children of Man. As a kid, the premise of the show appealed to me. The show was all about kids living on an island out in the pacific, trying to survive day-to-day trials. The producers had gotten forty kids from all over America, ages 10 to 12, and dropped them off with supplies and instructions on how to survive. The host, Chris Mansworth, was a survival expert, and he would create challenges every day for the kids to complete. There were four teams of ten kids, and the winner of each challenge got something cool for their area of the Village.

I watched the show religiously as a kid. Every Saturday night, right after the Simpsons, the show would come on, and I would be enthralled. I always imagined that I was on the island with them, surviving day-to-day. The challenges were always neet too. They had the kids gut and clean their own meat, dig wells by hand, build rafts for the raft race, and make aqueducts so their Village could have running water. It was a neat idea, but after eight episodes, the show just stopped. No new episodes came out, and the station never gave a reason. This was before the internet, so there was no way to check for updates online. So, the show slipped off into obscurity, and my ten-year-old self just forgot about it.

I remembered the show a few years, though when mom sent me a box of my stuff from the attic. There were a couple of old VHS tapes in there, and between Batman, the Animated series and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, were eight tapes wit handwritten labels for Children of Men. We had a VHS recorder when I was a kid, and I can remember recording my favorite shows to watch later. A quick trip to Goodwill and $15 later, I had a gently used VCR hooked to my tv. I watched all eight episodes back to back and fell in love with the show all over again. I remembered the kids I liked, Robert and Catherine were my favorites, but many of the kids had also been given a lot of screen time, and it was hard not to like them too. As I watched, I found myself wanting to see how the show ended all over again. As I watched the show again, I began to notice something a little darker under the surface too.

The Village was divided into four teams, Green Snakes, Blue Birds, Red Foxes, and Brown Mice. The teams had been divided up by background mostly, and this seemed very divisive to me as an adult. The Green Snakes did most of the hunting for the Village, a lot of their kids having a rural background, while the Brown Mice did most of the farming and gathering because they came from a farm background. The Red Foxes were in charge of construction and upkeep, they were the smarter kids, and they worked with the Blue Birds who were in charge of food management and cooking the meals. Every team had a representative who sat on a council. Robert sat for the Green Snakes, Catherine for the Blue Birds, Marco for the Red Foxes, and Chareen for the Brown Mice. As the show went on, it became very apparent that Robert didn't trust Marco and with good reason. Marco and Chareen had formed a kind of alliance of their own though most of it was because Marco bullied her. Robert and Catherine set up their own alliance, and Robert started holding out food to sway Chareen's decisions. The Village needed food, and Robert pointed out that he and Catherine were the ones providing it. Robert and Catherine wanted a fair split for everyone, but Marco tried to split them into a class system that would put his Foxes in the higher tier. Robert didn't like that, and it became clear that if Chris hadn't been there, we would have seen a lot more fights. Robert was a big twelve-year-old, a stocky bruiser who won battles with his fists most of the time, and Chris had separated him and Marco more than once. Marco was smaller but definitely had charisma. He had most of the Mice and all of the Foxes on his side, and I wasn't sure how I missed all this tension as a kid.

It all came to a head in episode six. Marco was caught hoarding food in the Red Fox Village. It wasn't just food that the other teams had been bringing in either. He had been taking the comfort foods from the canteen run by the Brown Mice and stooring them in his hut. Robert discovered this and took Marco prisoner, demanding he be placed on trial. The whole Village was in an uproar, but Marco agreed to be confined to a central cabin until the council could rule on his trial. Chris was setting the whole Trail up as an episode eight draw for viewers. At the end of episode eight, the council found Marco guilty, and the episode had ended with a lot of shaky camera work and the Red Foxes storming the podium where Marco was seated.

That was how the show had ended.

The little bell chimed overhead as I stepped into the tiny place. The store looked like a throwback, a narrow store full of old rickety shelves that looked sharp. The shelves he dusty VHS tapes, beta max, and DVD cases that were arranged neatly if not dustily. A quick look showed that they were all in alphabetical order like some ancient library. The shelves fronted onto a glass display case that held murky wonders within. On the counter was a television, an ashtray stacked with old butts, and the greasy store clerk who smiled at me as I approached.

"You the one who called about the tape?" he asked, showing a mouth of stained teeth.

I had searched for months on my own. I had taken to the internet in an attempt to find something, anything, that would give me some closure. Wikipedia told me that only eight episodes were aired, but that twelve had been intended. As I dug deeper, I began to see that the show was a mystery all its own, though. The list of children that had been in the show was woefully incomplete. Marco and Robert were there, so was Catherine and Chareen, and Chris was there as the host, but none of the other children were even named. No one, except Chris Mansworth, had gone on to do anything after the show, and his only contribution was his death a few months later. His Wiki said that he had committed suicide in his hotel room, and foul play was not suspected. As for the last four episodes of Children of Man, however, there was no mention.

So I took to the usual online sleuths. Reddit, 4Chan, TV message boards, no one seemed to have the answer. Most people had never even heard of Children of Men, and the ones who had were more interested in my copies than the last four episodes. Apparently, the episodes were never compiled or released for purchase, and the only means by which the show still existed was on VHS tapes like mine. I had several offers for them, one guy wanted to give me $500 per tape, but I declined and told them I'd post copies of the tapes here for free if they wanted.

That's how I met CharlestonHammer462.

He was a user on the Hometown board of Reddit. He saw my post, and the posted videos, and got in contact with me about the place I'm in now.

"Heard you were looking for a certain tape? In my line of work, when you're looking for something, you go talk to Reggie. He owns a sharp in Burlington, South Carolina, called "Video Time Capsule." If you need a banned episode of a 70's drama or a never aired documentary from the 60's, you talk to Reggie."

I read the message a few times before responding.

"Thanks, Charleston, but these episodes aren't just unaired; they're unknown. No one has ever seen them, I don't even know if they exist, and the store your talking about is over 400 miles away."

When I hit send on the message, I figured I'd never hear from him again.

It took him an hour to respond.

"What your after is very rare. I used to watch Children of Men myself when I was younger. It ended so abruptly that it's been an internet mystery since the net was just Wells and message Boards. I didn't learn about the last four episodes, though, until I met Reggie at TV con. We got to talking about old TV shows and, after a few drinks, he told me that he had the last four episodes of Children of Men."

That perked my interest.

"Have you seen them?"

That response took a little longer.

"I have...its some pretty different shit. I won't ruin it for you, but if you value the way you remember Children of Men, then don't watch it. There's a reason these episodes never made it to air. Heres the number to the store. If it's late, call him anyway. Reggie keeps weird hours, and sometimes that store is open 24 hours. He's an eccentric dude, don't doubt, but he has what you're looking for."

The number was at the bottom of the message.

"Yeah," I said, no longer sure about what I was doing, "Yeah, I called you about the complete series of Children of Men?"

He nodded, reached under the counter, and slapped a plain white case on the counter, "All eight episodes, recorded at airing." he said, his eyes studying me.

I frowned, "I'm after the last four episodes."

His piggy eyes glinted behind the grease smeared glasses, "There were only eight episodes that aired."

"And you told me that you had the other four episodes that never aired."

He smiled, and it did ghastly things to his porcine face, "Had to be sure, come to the back." and with that, he disappeared behind a curtain; into the back of the store.

I walked around, hesitating for a moment as I touched the curtain, and followed him.

I'd come 400 miles; might as well go another 5 feet into Hell.

The phone rang six times. I was just about to hang up when someone answered and spoke through a mouthful of food. I didn't understand him, but once he'd swallowed whatever had been in his mouth, he tried again.

"Video Time Capsule, where your memories are always on sale."

What a tag line.

"Yes, I was looking for something specific."

The sound of something being stuffed into the speaker's mouth and loud chewing assaulted my ears before he continued.

"Aren't they all? Whatcha lookin for?"

Clearly, customer service was not their strong suit.

"Episode 9-12 of Children of Men."

I heard something hit the floor, and the speaker cursed loudly, "Ya, uh, you must be mistaken. There are only eight episodes of Children of Men."

"Look," I said a little hotly, "I was told that you have things that no one else does. I want to see these episodes, I don't even want to buy them, and I was told that you have them in your possession. Is there any way that I can just..."

"Five hundred dollars," the voice returned, and the tone was not one to be bargained with, "in cash before I will even let you see them."

I agreed, despite the outrageous price, and now I was here in this grungy shop prepared to go into the back.

The back was worse than the front. DVD's and VHS tapes were stacked in teetering piles. The back room was lighted by only a few dingy overheads, and as I could see an old tv casting its glow from the back. The floor was riddled with trash, and I swear you could hear the mice scampering around to get out of my way. What sort of videos could I find here? Would this place give me anything but heartbreak? This seemed like the set up to a thousand scary stories, and I suddenly didn't want to see these mysterious artifacts.

But like anyone else who comes this close to finding the thing they want, I needed to see them.

Reggie was waiting for me by the tv. He had an ancient set that looked very similar to the one my parents had owned. On top was a VHS/DVD combo player and a set of rabbit ears that stuck out like a weather vain. There was a wooden chair in front of it with a little blue pad in it.

Reggie held his hand out, "Five hundred," he said.

"How do I know its authentic?"

"Look, I could get in a lot of trouble for even owning this, okay? You think guys who possess child porn go to prison for a long time? This would put me under the prison for life. If you want to see those episodes, then I need the money. Are we doing business here or what?"

I handed him the money, and he poped the cassette tape in and walked away.

"Not joining me?" I asked.

"Not for another $500 bucks kid."

I heard the curtain rustle as the show began.

Episode nine gave us a recap of the trial and then the storming of the stage. When the show started, I noticed a distinct lapse in film quality. Whoever was operating the cameras was much shorter than their usual crew, and they seemed barely able to handle the heavy rig. Finally, the camera had Robert into frame, and he began to fill us in on what was happening in the Village.

"Its been about three days since Marcos trial and then his escape. Since then, Fox Village has separated from the Village at large. They took most of the Brown Mice with them, and now they try to raid us every night for food. Something is going on over there, we heard shouts this morning, and..." but at that point, the shouts got louder, and Robert ran off-screen as the camera tried to follow him.

We came to the edge of Red Fox village. Many of the huts that were once on the verge have been burnt out, making a kind of barricade between them and the rest of the Village. Many voices were cheering as something swung from the tree. At first, I thought it was an effigy, a dummy maybe, but then I realized that it was Chareen. She swung like a grotesque wind chime in the space between the villages, and Robert shouted for Marco to stop being a coward and come out. Some of the kids were crying, but everyone on the other side cheered and shouted "Traitor" or "Faithless" at the swinging body of Chareen.

I sat, glued to the TV, unsure that any of this was even real.

Later, it was night when next the recording resumed, we got to see a Raid. The night vision on the cameras showed kids with torches fighting other kids who were leaving their storehouse in a hurry. The kids with torches hacked at them with machetes, blood flying as they connected, and some of them dropped as they were stabbed or hacked to pieces by the blades of the other children.

The rest of the episode was mostly uneventful. Lots of shaky cam, lots of crying, and at one point someone dropped it and didn't pick it up for several minutes. As the episode ended, I was left looking at my own stark face looking back at me. What had I just watched? There was no way that could be the same show. Things had gone very lord of the flies in the Village, and as the tenth episode started, I wasn't sure what to expect.

Episode 10 started a little differently. There was no recap, no theme music, and the footage looked unedited. We see a much more professional camera crew and Chris Mansworth trying to bring some order back to the island. They're coming up through the shallows, Chirs and about ten adults, coming up in the dark towards the Village. Chris was talking about how this had gotten out of hand and how they were going to try to rescue the children. As they came into the seemingly empty Village, Chris cupped his hands and began to shout at the empty huts. He told them that the game was over and that it was time they went home. He told them there was a boat that would take them home. Still no response. He moved deeper into the collection of straw huts, the fires burning low around them, and that was when they struck. Kids with spears and machetes came screaming out of the darkness, and the cameraman back-peddled furiously as the adults were taken completely by surprise. Blood flew, legs were sawed off as the pint-sized savages hacked and chopped, and Chris Mansworth was buried under a pile of children as he screamed and flailed.

As the cameraman tripped and went down, we see the shadow of children standing over him as the spears came down.

The episode ended abruptly.

I was speechless. What the Hell had happened to them? These were kids that had been doing challenges and making friends. The rivalry between Robert and Marco had always been the most serious part of the show, but now they had devolved into savages.

The eleventh episode was about ten minutes long.

It opened on a stationary camera shot of the village council met. Marco was on his knees before the camera, and he looked bad. His left eye was a puffy mass of bruised tissue. His left ear was a bleeding stump. His nose looked to be cut jaggedly. He was weeping silently, and his tears were thick and bloody.

Robert Stood behind him. He had always worn a white football jersey in every episode I'd seen him in, but the garment was tidied red and brown now. He bled from several places on his chest, and when he raised his machete, it was with obvious pain.

"This morning, before the sun had risen, this dog attempted to attack our Village, violating the rules of war as agreed up by he and I. We agreed to a battle between our two villages at dawn, this snake tried to attack us in the night and lost. Thus his Village is forfeit. As the winner, I sentence him to death."

"Please, Robert," Chris Mansworth's voice can be heard off-screen, "the show is over. You can all go home now, back to your parents. It doesn't have to end like this."

As Marco cried his terrible tears, Robert looked at Chirs, off-screen, and turned back to Marco.

"The show is over, this is our home now."

He brought the machete down. Marco cried out and fell facefirst to the ground. Robert fell on him, hitting him with the machete again and again. Blood sprayed from the struggling child, and when Robert looked back to the camera, his face was splattered in gore. He reached out, and the camera went off.

The last episode was only a few minutes.

It started with a shaky-cam journey through the jungle. The runner was being pursued, I could hear the footsteps behind him, but as he got the shore, he jumped into something and pushed out into the water. The wooden deck of a boat came into view, and as he drifted out, I could hear oars working int he water. He sat the camera on the seat, and as he rowed, faces of children could be seen in the surrounding jungle. Then everything went dark.

The tape clicked, and the TV went back to static.

I left it in the VCR and stumbled out of the back room. Reggy was sitting behind the counter and looked up at me with something like sympathy. He held something back towards me, and I saw it was my money. I shook my head and stepped away from him. I had bought a ticket, and I had paid the price.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked.

"Yeah... so what happened to the kids? They just left them there?"

Reggy shrugged, "The Coast Guard picked Chris Mansworth up two days later. He was drifting in the ocean and looked extremely rattled. He wouldn't tell them how he had gotten out there or where he had been. When he got back, he gave the tapes to the studio, and the next time anyone saw him, he was dead."

"And the kids?"

"The studio never persued the show. They never sold the aired episodes, they never aired what Chris brought back, they just made the whole thing disappear. I suppose there's an island out there, full of kids who went to be on a tv show and never came back. Their parents were likely told they had been in an accident or something. The whole thing was hushed up, and eventually, people forgot. You'll forget one day, too." he added, as though it might help.

As I lay in bed now, trying to forget the horrible things I saw, I hope I do forget.

But I doubt I ever will.

So if you happen to find an island out in the pacific, maybe one full of locals that just don't look right, turn your boat back out to see.

Those natives are not friendly.
submitted by Erutious to Erutious [link] [comments]

2020.08.04 18:29 monkmode47 The Underground Bases, Missing Children, Extra-Terrestrials

from JamesCasbolt Website

After the completion of my last article ‘MI6 are the lords of the global drug trade’ I must now present the full picture as to what the intelligence community drug trafficking money is being used for.
I need to do this for many reasons. The truth must come out and I need to protect my family and myself. If any of us were to come to a premature end it would only add more credibility to what I am saying. Therefore by presenting the following I am protecting us.
Government harassment and surveillance of me has increased since going public with the last article. I believe this has now become a ’national security’ issue. I have had my life threatened, men situated in the hotel opposite my flat taking photographs of me using a high tech, long range camera which uses a blue laser, my phone line and my girlfriends mother’s phone line tapped, my information hacked into and taken off multiple websites and e-mails from government officials blocked.
I believe this is because I am leaking information on projects classified ‘above top secret’ which I will go into in detail in this article. The intelligence run drug trafficking is only classified ‘secret’.
My name is James Casbolt and I worked in MI6 covert cocaine trafficking operations with the IRA in London between 1995 and 1999. My father Peter Casbolt was also MI6 and worked with the CIA and mafia in Rome in 1993 on covert cocaine and heroin trafficking operations.
The global drugs trade run by many factions of the global intelligence community co-operating together (MI6, CIA, MOSSAD etc) is worth at least £500 billion a year. This is more than the global oil trade. MI6 control many of the other intelligence agencies in the world. MI6 created the CIA in 1947 and still control them today.
This ‘black ops’ drug money or in classic Orwellian terms, MI6/CIA ’non-appropriated funds’ is being used to fund government and military projects classified ‘Above top secret’.
These operations include a huge worldwide UFO cover up and the building and maintaining of deep underground military bases (D.U.M.B.S).
There are many of these bases worldwide but here is small list.
Dulce in New Mexico Brecon Beacons in Wales Los Alamos in Mexico Pine Gap in Australia The Snowy mountains in Australia The Nyala range in Africa West of Kindu in Africa Next to the Libyan border in Egypt Mount Blanc in Switzerland Narvik in Scandinavia Gottland island in Sweden and many other places
These projects are being run by a secret, unelected international governing body connected to the U.N.
There are at least 1400 of these D.U.M.B.S worldwide. 131 in the US. With 2 underground bases being built per year in the US at the moment. The average depth of the bases are four and a quarter miles underground ( some shallower and some deeper ).
The bases are on average the size a medium sized city. Each DUMB base costs between 17 and 26 billion dollars to build which is funded by MI6/CIA drug money. Each underground base employs 1,800 to 10,000 workers. A nuclear powered drill it used to dig underground. This drill goes through rock at a tremendous rate and literally melts the rock away to form a smooth glass like surface around the edges of the tunnels.
On May 20 I personally received information from a former member of the NSA (National security agency) through a third party. I wish to protect this man’s identity and so I will call him ‘G’. This is the first time this information is being made public.
G was subcontracted by the NSA in the late 1980’s and worked for the NSA until 1992. He was a senior electrical engineer in the Los Alamos underground base in New Mexico. G also worked at the Alamo Gordo DUMB in New Mexico and an underground base in Hawaii. He said the Los Alamos base goes two miles underground and is the size of a small city.
Whilst there he witnessed rows of caged humans, tall grey aliens and a reptilian alien. G says the NSA was very hard on all subcontractors and people were worked very hard under severe conditions.
According to G the US federal government, the USAF and the DOE (department of energy) run the Hawaii DUMB he worked at. This base goes down two miles and stretches out into the Pacific Ocean.
It was here that three very tall and muscular ‘Nordic’ looking men (who according to G were reptilian/human hybrids because their eyes would ‘shift’ into having vertical slits for pupils) chased him along the motorway there and threatened to kill him because he had overheard them talking about some piece of high technology.
Understandably G has been emotionally scarred from these experiences and does not like talking to people about them.
I was also told on May 23 from this source that in June there would be a huge amount of HAARP engineered earthquakes on the west coast of America and that the DUMBS there had already been evacuated and shut down. This was one hundred percent accurate because between the 21 and 28 of June there were at least 400 earthquakes on the West Coast of America.
I posted all this information on the God like productions forum on the net and within hours the post was hacked into and removed.
By executive order the NSA is exempt from all laws which do not specifically name the NSA in the text of the law, which basically means they can do whatever they want and are answerable to no one.
This is because of its interaction with extra-terrestrial species and its twisted view that the people are children and cannot handle the truth.
There is currently an internal war raging in the global intelligence community regarding the alien agenda. This is between negative and positive factions. From my understanding one of the main negative factions is a group centered around MI6 and the CIA called ‘Aquarius‘. This group is covering up the truth, blatantly lying and discrediting or murdering anyone who gets too close to exposing what is going on. There is also a positive group centered around naval intelligence called ’Comm 12’ which is leaking accurate information regarding the alien agenda into the public arena.
When the missile (not plane) hit the pentagon on 9-11, it hit the naval intelligence section of the building. This was part of the internal war between Aquarius and Comm 12 being played out.
Aquarius has also enlisted the help of Hollywood and the mainstream media to twist the facts of the alien agenda and blind the public to the truth. Sir Martin Wakefield Jacomb was director for the telegraph newspapers in 1986.
He is also connected into MI6 and is involved with laundering MI6 drug money through the bank of England. Jacomb was the director of the bank of England from 1987 to 1995. Former head of the CIA William Casey was head of the council of the media network ABC. Many Insiders refer to the ABC network as ‘The CIA network’.
The grey and reptilian aliens working together with the military in the underground bases is called MIEC (military industrial extra-terrestrial complex). This is a malevolent organization, as you shall see with the following information. There are also benevolent ET’s on this planet.
These groups are not part of the MIEC and are from:
the Pleiades Andromeda Lyra Procyon Tau Ceti Sirius A Ummo
These groups seem to work together in some kind of protective ‘federation’.
On February 20, 1954 a delegation from these groups met with the Eisenhower administration in an unsuccessful effort to reach an agreement on the US’s thermonuclear weapons program. The stumbling block to these negotiations was that these ET’s were not willing to provide technology that might have been used by the military-industrial factions of the Eisenhower administration.
These peace loving ‘human looking’ beings refused to be co-opted into the emerging military industrial extra terrestrial complex (MIEC) in the US, Britain, Russia and elsewhere on the planet.
On July 11, 1934 the first treaty with the greys from Orion occurred aboard a naval ship in Balboa. This was one of the most important events in human history because it thrust us into a role we were not repaired for as regards to being a host to a malevolent extra-terrestrial race.
The US federal government disregarded the constitution of the United States by doing this and not telling the people. It was here that the agreement was first made between the greys representing the reptilians from Orion and representatives of the US intelligence community.
The treaty stated that in return for the greys providing high technology (anti-gravity, metals and alloys, environment, free energy and medical technology) the government would allow the greys to proceed unhindered with human abductions. This was only if a list of abductees was provided to the government and the abductees returned unharmed with their memories of the events erased.
In 1944 the second extension of the treaty was signed. I have very little details of this.
In May 1954 again under the Eisenhower administration the third extension of this treaty was signed called ‘The Greada treaty’. The greys and reptilians blatantly broke the terms of this treaty as we shall see later in this information. The Greada treaty was agreed upon at the Holloman air force base in New Mexico by the greys and the ‘Ultra’ unit in the NSA.
The original document of this treaty and the ET materials from it can be found today at the NSA facility called ‘Blue moon’ underneath Kirkland air force base in New Mexico. The entrance to this underground base is in the Manzano Mountains. Also at this location is the technological base of the secretive department of energy (DOE).
Today free energy devices developed from grey and reptilian technology are being built for use in space at the DOE base.
On April 15 1964 two intelligence personnel met under ‘project Plato’ with the greys in the New Mexico desert to arrange a meeting on April 25 at Holloman air force base in New Mexico. This meeting was to renew the treaty again in a psychological bid to buy time in order to solve the problem of the greys and reptilians.
A truly nightmarish situation is now unfolding. Phil Schneider was a geologist, structural engineer and underground tunneling expert for the US government and the UN. He participated in the construction of many DUMBS in North America and other countries. Phil was murdered by the CIA on January 17 1996 in his apartment in Wilsonville in Portland, Oregon.
In 1979 in Dulce New Mexico, Phil Schneider was drilling into the desert there to build an auxiliary base in the southern end of Dulce on top of an already existing underground base there. The already existing base had been built by the US government in the 1940’s under ’operation blue note’ but afterwards had been taken over by greys and reptilians.
Over a period of two days Phil and his team had drilled four holes in the desert that went down several thousand feet.
One of the holes kept bringing up dirty dust, putrid odours and broken off machine bits that were sent down the hole. Boring machines and lasers came back up damaged when they were sent down there. A probe was then sent down that came back up totally missing. Eventually people were sent down.
Phil was the first person to go. He was lowered down into the cave and when he got down there, standing around ten feet away were two seven-foot greys. He became petrified but managed to empty one clip from his pistol into the greys. As he was reloading one of the greys hit Phil with some kind of particle beam weapon which gave him a very high dose of nuclear radiation poisoning, similar to cobalt radiation but even worse.
Phil’s lung was burnt out of him and he has a huge scar running down his chest which he showed at his lectures which are available on video

Phil Schneider was a geologist, structural engineer, and underground tunneling expert who participated in the construction of many deep underground cities and bases in North America and abroad for the government.
In May of 1995, suffering from terminal cancer, he began giving talks in Las Vegas describing in detail the underground cities, the government's secret deal with negative aliens, high alien technology being employed by the government-including "corbomite" (element 140), mining on the moon, FEMA and martial law, the coming New World Order takeover, the Alien/NWO genocide agenda to reduce the earth's population by 85% before 2029, and a host of other stunning revelations.
Phil Schneider was an extraordinarily brave man who knew that he was going to be killed because of the information he was revealing to the American public.
His fingers on his left hand were burnt off, his bones were burnt. He was basically cooked.
He was in radiation isolation therapy for 400 days plus. In the cave large metallic vats were found filled with human body parts, generally glands. In the vats were high tech stirring devices that stopped the blood coagulating.
In Aztec in New Mexico on the 13 February 1948 a crashed flying disk was retrieved by the US military. The craft was 100 feet in diameter was made of a light metal resembling aluminum and contained ET reptilian bodies. A large number of human body parts were also found on board the craft.
The ‘above top secret’ security lid was screwed down on this even tighter than Roswell to stop mass panic.
The very next day after the crash (the craft was probably shot down by the military) the government bought up the property from the local landowners. Witnesses in Aztec observed covered military trucks going in and out of the area for days after the crash.
The craft was transported to Wright Patterson air force base. The disc incorporated large rings of metal which revolved around a central stabilized cabin. There were no rivets, bolts, screws or signs of wielding.
People in Aztec carefully guard their words as to the accounts of the crashed disk. The Aztec citizens are still being monitored by the military to this day. One elderly woman said her husband watched the military trucks going in and out of the crash area for days. She said she was very nervous about the whole thing and didn't want to talk about any of it other than her husband seeing the military vehicles. She was asked if she believed there had been a UFO crash.
Her response was,
“If something hadn’t happened out there, how come the military rushed right in... why was the covered military trucks going in and out of the canyon... why did they deny being there... and why were they buying the near and surrounding land where the UFO supposedly crashed?
In Cambodia in 1972 at the height of the Vietnam war, a US special operations team out on patrol came across a group of alien creatures loading various human body parts into large metal containers and sealing them. A pitched battle ensued, which resulted in fatalities on both sides. As the soldiers pulled back the aliens quickly retreated to their craft taking the body parts with them.
As usual a major cover-up was quickly enforced.
One of my contacts in Wales who I will call ‘D’ to protect his identity, was approached by an elite intelligence organization called ‘Group 5-8’. This group was formed by Margaret Thatcher in the 1980’s to work at the sights of crashed ET craft in Britain. This is the first time this information is being made public.
Even though group 5-8 was formed by Margaret Thatcher it is a UN group. The group 5-8 man called George showed my contact a UN identity card with UN holograms on it. George then drove D to a clandestine meeting on a motorway services.
It was here that George showed D photographs of human mutilations they had found near the heavily guarded Breaken beacon DUMB in Wales. These photos were taken at a sealed off area where UFO activity had taken place.
The photos showed a girl of sixteen and a boy of twenty who had their genitals removed, eyeballs removed, lips removed and directly half of their skin was missing. George said group 5-8 regularly found camper vans around this area where the occupants had vanished.
D understandably had nightmares for weeks after this and was soon after followed by a high-tech American utility van with blue lights underneath it. I believe this was a NSA van.
Days after this D had his life threatened over the phone. The call was anonymous but told him to keep quite or his house would be burnt down with him in it. George then called D and told him his life was in danger and to get the information out as soon as possible to protect himself. The next day a gasman turned up pulled out his ID the moment the door was opened walked in and checked the meter. When he left a fire broke out which nearly burnt down the house with D and his wife in it. The house was wrecked and the fire brigade said the fire had mysteriously started in the bin in the room where the gasman was.
After this D another man and myself were investigating reports of a DUMB and missing children around the small village of Zennor in Cornwall. There had been many sightings of alien beings on the cliffs there since the 1960’s and many UFO sightings around the area and large amounts of covert military activity. Some of the UFO’s had disappeared into the ocean there according to witnesses.
Two years ago a Devon and Cornwall police project classified ’secret’ had gone on. This was a dig for the mass graves of children by the police. They had traced the reports of many missing children to this area. This is classified information that D managed to get hold of from his contacts. Once again this is the first time this information is being made public. From that I can gather the police did not find any bodies and the digging area was walled off from the public.
I believe the police were looking in the wrong place because the activity seems to be coming from underground. When the poet D.H Lawrence stayed at a small cottage in Zennor he heard explosions coming from deep underground.
And Aleister Crowley who was an MI6 agent spent much time at Zennor.
As already stated MI6 and the CIA are heavily involved in the alien agenda and I believe Aleister Crowley was up to his neck in it.
Aleister Crowley had performed many satanic rituals at a cottage in Zennor (there seems to be a close connection with Satanism and the greys and reptilians).
At this cottage one night after Crowley left that a woman named Ka Cox died of a stroke and her husband went insane and ended up in Bodmin mental asylum. The man said a reptilian being had materialized in the house and I believe Ka Cox died of fright after seeing this. The police files pertaining to her death were stolen from the police station after this.
Aleister Crowley was also at Montauk in New York when the project was in full swing and there is a quantum energy grid line that runs from Montauk to Zennor and the Men An Tol ancient stones in Cornwall.
After the fire at D’s house everything had been quite for a couple of years. All of a sudden after two days into our missing children investigation at Zennor, D had men outside his bedroom window shining lights in. This is an intimidation tactic used by the intelligence agencies.
I have only scratched the surface of what is going on at Zennor as there is not room to go into it all here. The bigger picture will be made public soon.
So what is going on with these human mutilations and missing people?. The truth of the matter is that the greys and reptilians feed off the glandular secretions and hormones through a type of osmosis. This is why major organs are taken from people. Your mind may want to go into denial that this is happening but if you start digging you will find this is 100% true. On the Crowed skies website there is video smuggled out of the Dulce underground facility that shows greys inside vats absorbing these blood mixtures through their skin.
Researchers Bill Hamilton and Tal XXXXXX (AKA Jason Bishop) received reports from workers at the Dulce DUMB who worked there in the mid 1970’s when it was being jointly run by the CIA, greys and reptilians. This was before the ET’s completely took the base over and kicked the humans out.
The workers said the Dulce facility goes down at least seven levels. Level six is privately called ’nightmare hall’ amongst workers. They tell of bizarre experimentation and multi-legged humans that look half human and half octopus, reptilian humanoids, furry creatures with hands like humans that cry like a baby, and mimic human words.
Also a huge mixture of lizard humans in cages, several cages of winged humans, three and a half to seven feet tall bat like creatures and gargoyle like beings. In level seven are thousands of rows of human and human genetic mixtures in cold storage, humanoid embryo storage vats with embryos in various stages of development.
Other workers said they witnessed scenes even more terrifying than this and refused to talk about them.
One worker told Bill Hamilton,
“I frequently encountered humans in cages, usually dazed or drugged, but sometimes they cried and begged for help. We were told they were insane and involved in high-risk drug tests to cure insanity.
We were told never to speak to them at all. At the beginning we believed the story. Finally in 1978 a small group of workers discovered the truth”.
Thomas Castello was one of the security workers at the Dulce facility. Thomas worked seven years for the Rand Corporation in California. He was transferred to Dulce in 1977. He estimated there were more than 18000 short greys at Dulce and also saw tall reptilians.
Thomas knew of seven levels but said there could have been more. He said the aliens were on levels five, six and seven. The lower you go the higher the security clearance is needed. The only sign in English is above the tube shuttle system and says ’To Los Alamos’.
The tube shuttle travels at mach 2.7. Most signs at the Dulce facility are in the alien symbol language and a universal system understood by humans and ET’s. Thomas said the other shuttle connections from Dulce went to Page Arizona, Area 51 Nevada, Taos Carlsbad, Datil New Mexico, Colorado Springs and Creede Colorado. Thomas also said there is a vast number of tube shuttle connections under the United States which extend into a global system of tunnels to other underground bases in other countries.
Thomas Castello said that below the second level of the Dulce facility everyone is weighed naked and given a uniform. Any change in weight is noted and if there is a change in weight of three pounds or more the people are x-rayed. At the entrance to all sensitive areas are scales and the persons weight must match with their ID card and code to gain entry.
Thomas Castello smuggled many things out of the Dulce facility before he escaped which included twenty seven sheets of 8x10 photos of alien and genetic creatures in vats.
One silent surveillance camera video tape, which begins with showing computer banks then vats, multi shots of nightmare hall, two shots of greys, one shot of the terminal sign saying ’To Los Alamos’ and thirty seconds of the shuttle train arriving.
Twenty five pages of diagrams, chemical formulas, schematics and alien equipment.
A copy of the new government/alien treaty with signatures. Two pages of original documents signed by Ronald Reagan (then governor of California). Each page has Ronald Reagan's signature plus other political signatures and four alien signatures. Thomas Castello’s ‘flash gun’ (a laser type weapon used by the security officers at Dulce). Thomas put the original set of these items in a sealed, one piece oxygen free heavy plastic box. Five sets of copies are in five different boxes in five different locations guarded by five different individuals known only to Thomas Castello.
I understand these individuals would be scared to leak this proof as Thomas Castello's wife and child were kidnapped and then disappeared in Puerto Rico not long after this (now presumed dead).
But if any of you are reading this then please contact me anonymously and we can arrange for you to send me a copy. I will be able to get it out on a large scale. My e-mail address will be at the end of this article.
This is part of an interview with Thomas Castello before he disappeared:
“I am saying there are aliens in several underground bases in this country and terrible things happen in those places. If I die before it is proven search for proof. Demand that the government admit it. If enough people demand it they will find a way to explain the base or at least explain why they must keep it secret. There are many people that work at Dulce that know me.
I am challenging those co-workers to speak up anonymously. Send a letter to confirm what I have explained. In the name of the brave men, women, children and aliens that died trying to let the public know what is going on at the Dulce facility. Expose that horrid place before thousands more innocent people are tortured and die unspeakable deaths”.
The Rand corporation which is involved in the construction of these underground bases has released ‘The Roper report’. This is now a third generation report that says according to their research one in ten people have been abducted and implanted by the Greys and reptilians and returned with their memories erased. This report has been sent out to one hundred and ten thousand clinical psychiatrists in the US.
The Roper report also states that women are being raped by reptilian ET’s as part of a ongoing genetic program by them. As fantastic as this sounds it is backed up by some of the world’s top MD’s like John Mack and many others. There are some ninety concerned psychiatric scientists in the US who are trying to form an organization to prevent secrecy on this horrendous situation.
They say that because of the alien/government treaties this amounts to government sponsored rape. According to the Roper report 99.3% of the abductees being used in this ongoing genetic ET program are female and 0.7% are male.
I have personally seen intelligence documents of studies into the Grey and Reptilian problem that show they are involved in genetic sabotage of the human race. The Grey and Reptilian alien agenda is to slowly and covertly take over the planet in the next thirty years, reduce the population and run the planet from underground using the surface population as food to be taken when and how they wish. The British, Russian and US government is shooting down around one Grey and Reptilian craft a month with particle beam weapons developed from Tesla technology.
The Russians have areas the size of football fields full of crashed ET craft. If that is not a full-scale invasion I don’t know what is.
The British, Russian and US government have become ‘blood brothers’ and the best of friends because of the alien agenda. The Russian and US cold war was feigned animosity and a sham so these governments could develop nuclear weapon programs to counter the alien threat.
The cold war was a lie for the public to take the attention away from what the nuclear weapons program was really being developed for, not against Russia but as a last resort against the Greys and Reptilians.
The headquarters of the secret international governing body in charge of dealing with the ET phenomenon is in Geneva, Switzerland. The ruling body is made up of representatives of the governments involved as well as the executive members of the group known as the Bilderbergers. As I have said the British, American and Russian governments are working very closely together because of the Grey/Reptilian threat to the planet.
Although the situation is so horrendous that these governments have shattered into panicked factions, some of which have ’sold out’ and are directly helping the Greys and Reptilians.
According to very credible US government insider William Cooper the most important meetings of this secret international governing body are held by the policy committee on a nuclear submarine beneath the polar ice caps.
The secrecy is such that this is the only method to make certain the meetings cannot be bugged and is the only place they will discuss their biggest secrets.
It would be wrong and cruel of me to present his information without presenting the full picture. The Greys and reptilians from Orion have been involved in an ancient war with the Benevolent Pleiadians and other groups.
The Pleiadians are a very powerful group and are the guardians of this solar system. I personally do not believe they will let the grey/reptilian agenda fully unfold. They have helped us in the past, are helping us now and will help us in the future.
I know this because I have had many Para-normal ET contact experiences since childhood. There is not room to go into detail here but is covered in the ’Above top secret’ presentation with investigative journalist Dave Starbuck. Type ’revelation audio visual-Dave star buck’ into a search engine to find.
I have very clear photographic evidence of benevolent Pleiadian ET’s materializing in my house and a box of ‘channelled’ communications with these beings. These photographs will stand up to a computer grain analysis test because they are all one hundred percent real. I also do not have the knowledge or technology to fake them. One photo shows a very clear face materializing in front of me. I also have post traumatic stress disorder from abductions and other contacts with malevolent reptilian entities. Again these are covered in ’Above top secret’.
There is a massive number of missing children in Britain, America and other places connected to these underground bases. The figure in Britain seems to be at least twenty thousand children disappear without a trace every year. In a 1995 classified CIA, DIA (defense intelligence agency) and FBI report, it stated that one hundred thousand children and one million adults disappear and are never found in the US every year.
You may ask yourself how is this being covered up. As was mentioned at the beginning of the article, the same group working with the greys and reptilians which is MI6, CIA and the MIEC, own and control the mainstream media.
In 2001 Scotland Yard police revealed that it had been unable to find three hundred black boys aged between four to seven that disappeared from London in a three-month period. The three hundred boys were reported missing between July and September in 2001.
Journalist Yinka Sunmonu an expert in missing children told the BBC’s Today program “Children are here one day and gone the next”.
In 1989 in Westchester, New York which was the site of numerous UFO overflights and reports of human abductions at that time. Over three thousand missing children reports surfaced. After extensive investigation by local police departments the children were not found at red light districts or centers for run a ways. Researchers and law enforcement officials were baffled.
There is also the CIA ‘finders case’. This involved negative factions of the CIA directly involved in child kidnapping. This was revealed in a 1987 US customs report. Customs and police raided a Washington DC warehouse which was used by the CIA. There they found a set of instructions broadcast via a computer network which advised the CIA to move a huge amount of kidnapped children that were originally being held at the warehouse (customs and police found large amount of nappies and other things there) and to keep them moving across jurisdictions.
There were instructions on impregnation of female teenagers and also instructions on how to avoid police detection. The destination for the children in the instructions was New Mexico.
The Albuquerque journal ran an article entitled ’ Why New Mexico has so many more missing children than comparable states remains a mystery’.
Much of this activity is centered around New Mexico where the Dulce underground facility is.
One male survivor of the MI6/CIA mind control project Monarch described in ’The illuminati formula’ by Fritz Springmeir, the china lake naval base at Ridgecrest in the California desert. This anonymous man says batches of children numbering one, two and three thousand were kept in cages piled up to the ceiling of large hangers. He says these cages are called ’woodpecker grids’.
These are electrified and the children were tortured with electric shocks.
Children are today still being transported to china lake naval base by train, car and air. One of the main delivery routes for children into China Lake is by plane from the Santa Rosa airstrip near Bohemian grove. The Santa Rosa airstrip is supposed to be closed, yet planes take off from there every night and do not put there lights on until they are hundreds of feet in the air.
The Nazi geneticist and mind control scientist Joseph Mengela ‘The angel of death’ from the Auschwitz concentration camp was brought to America after the war by MI6 and the OSS (which became the CIA) in project paperclip. Many other leading Nazi mind control experts, rocket scientists and geneticists were also brought to America and Britain after the war.
Joseph Mengela stayed at the China Lake base and the Tavistock Institute in London.
China Lake naval base is in the same as Lancaster, California. It was in Lancaster the mass graves of mutilated children were discovered.
By the sheer amount of evidence the only conclusion I can come to is that certain sections of the US and British government have sold us and our children out to malevolent ET’s in backdoor treaties.
The situation is truly grim. Come on people, time to wake up! The new world order and UN one world government is this rigid control structure to clamp the people of the world into a totalitarian vice so they won’t have to tell us about the aliens.
I also believe that certain sections of the intelligence community and the US and British government are directly helping the Greys and Reptilians with their takeover agenda. Evidence seems to point to the ET’s promising these humans certain powers when this happens. The name of the powerful secretive group ‘The Trilateral Commission’ is taken from the Orion Grey/Reptilian flag known as the Trilateral insignia. This shows how much trouble the Human race is in.
There is now an apathy amongst the people towards world events that is deadly and contagious. This is especially true of the people of Britain. We have truly become a nation of sheep.
I challenge you to shake off that apathy and challenge your government to tell you the truth. Please send letters copies of this article to your local government officials and distribute it amongst your friends and family. This information desperately needs to get out on a large scale as possible but I cannot do this on my own, I need your help.
There is a huge amount of pressure on the governments to go public on the ET scenario, but there is also a huge amount of pressure on them not to go public as well. We need to demand our government officials tell us the truth about the ET scenario and if they do not we must impeach them.
If there are any government officials or intelligence personnel who still have a conscious and would like to provide me with information on any of the areas covered in this article or information on any other areas, please contact me at the e-mail addresses below.
I will also be willing to meet you face to face.
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2020.08.04 11:30 criterion_infection Hotel room hidden camera sex

In an American city of which I’m sure you’ve heard, on a downtown backstreet, in an ornate old building now rented out to offices, behind a locked door with no keyhole, there is a one-screen cinema that shows people their deepest desires. I was a projectionist there. It looks just like a normal cinema, albeit small. Just think of every movie theatre that you’ve ever patronized and average them out. Customers pick their tickets up at the ticket booth, but only one ticket is sold per show. There’s a concession stand. Unlimited concessions are included in the exorbitant ticket price, so customers can ask for as many boxes of Junior Mints and Sno-Caps as they want.
There are a few rows of seats in the theatre. When the sole customer was comfortable, he or she would give me the signal, and then I would start the show. Some of the films were basically self-insert fan faction of popular series or genres. I learned to pick those people out. “He’s going to watch ‘Star Wars,’ but he’s Luke,” I’d think to myself. About half of them were formulaic family dramas. You’d be surprised by how many men allocate all their daydreaming hours to writing made-for-TV Lifetime movie scripts, some of which don’t end happily ever after. One customer’s movie was about how his wife cheats on him. I think that he just wanted to justify his antipathy towards her.
The presentations varied more. One customer’s desire was shown as a 144p YouTube video. It wasn’t even full screen; it was being played in a browser window with an old YouTube layout. Some desires were in series. One guy started with the millionth sequel in his series, and before his movie there was always a preview for the previous installment. I did the math on that. It would take over one hundred seventy years to watch all one million one movies in his series if each installment is ninety minutes long. I guess that it’s not desire if it satisfies.
To keep us happy and quiet, management gave tickets to each employee every six months from the start of employment. The girl who worked concessions was my friend, and she was so excited when she got her ticket. Everything was normal. She was a little nervous about letting me see her deepest desires, but I assured her that I was a professional. I played the magical, blank film reels as usual, but her movie was a nature documentary on giant clams. It was easily the weirdest movie that I’d ever seen. I thought that she was just really into marine biology, but I talked to her afterwards, and she was confused and disappointed. She was the first unsatisfied customer ever, and management did a full review of the case. In the end, they promised her a new ticket whenever she wanted, but the root cause lay in her, so she would have to figure that out for herself first, otherwise she might just see the same movie again.
Toddlers are annoying because they’re always asking why, and you can only ever get a few whys deep before hitting the bedrock on which the world’s foundation has been laid. Things fall because gravity just sort of is. The same is true of people. Why do you like the pasta? It’s garlicky. Why do you like the taste of garlic? See? We’re too whys deep and already at the bottom. For this reason, it’s hard to soul-search actively, so instead of looking within, she looked without to the mollusk of her dreams. I volunteered to help her learn about giant clams.
We started with pearls. Pearls are usually and harvested from oysters, but clams, mussels, and other bivalves also produce them. We went to a few jewelry stores, and they were amazing. I’ve been to art museums less stimulating than some of the earrings that I saw. I’d never seen a pearl up close like that before. We had clams for dinner that night. They were gritty. We should have gone to Wendy’s.
Later that week, we went to the aquarium. There was a giant clam in one of the tanks. It just sat there sucking water in through its incurrent siphon and shooting it back out through its excurrent siphon. My friend looked at the clam the way that I had looked at the pearls the other day. A rim of eyes lined its mantle in no particular arrangement. She gazed deeply into them. She stood there for so long that I got bored, with it and everything else in the tank. People began to give her odd looks. “Has she moved?” someone within earshot asked. A friendly employee came over to us and asked if we had any questions.
“The eyes.”
It wasn’t a question, but he took it in stride. He told her that they can only sense light.
“No, they see me.”
We left at closing. I walked her home. She was in a trance and sounded distant, like her voice was coming from somewhere a million miles away from her mouth. We got to her apartment building, and she asked me to come up. I sat on her couch while she changed into tattered rags that could generously be called pajamas. She opened her bedroom door and asked me to come in. She got into the tangle of sheets that passed for a bed in her apartment and asked me to tuck her in. I hope that that doesn’t sound sweet. It really freaked me out, but I obliged. I thought that we were growing the sinew of friendship and would laugh about this later at Wendy’s. I tucked her in. She asked me to tuck her in tighter and then exhaled and sucked her stomach in. When she was satisfied, she thanked me, and I left.
She called in sick to work the next day. After my shift, I brought her some food and Nyquil. When she opened the door, she was still in the trance, but she looked fine except for her eyes. The skin around her eyes was mummy-dry and flaking. Sleep collected at the sides of her eyes. She smiled a warm, detached smile. We ate together. She popped however many Nyquil the back of the box suggested and went to bed. She slept on the box spring with the mattress on top of her.
She called me a while later and asked me to come to her apartment. Her eyes were ringed with chunks of sleep. She invited me in and took me to the bedroom, rubbing her eyes the entire time. There was a live giant clam by the far wall, and the pearl of another was next to it. Giant clam pearls aren’t spherical or nacreous, which means that they lack the characteristic pearlescence of most pearls. It looked like a half scooped-out pan of vanilla gelato.
“Which one’s the pearl?”
I thought that she was blind. I stepped between the gaping, ultramarine clam and it’s pearl of dead white, the former of which wheezed air in and out of its siphons.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
She squinted and rubbed her eyes. She shed sleep like drops of amber and a light snowfall of dead skin, the kind that doesn’t get school cancelled. She answered correctly several times, never losing her patience with me. I walked back to her and looked at them again. I told her the truth. The pearl was on the left. She lay down next to it and tried to contort herself into its shape. “Does it look like me?” I left scared.
I know that her having a clam seems strange, but I immediately knew how she had gotten it. Management doesn’t want us to tell anyone where the cinema is. They pay us well and select for loyalty, but they sweeten the deal with individualized severance packages to seal our lips. I know that it seems like I’ve broken the silence, but go ahead and reread the first sentence and see if you can find the cinema. It’s still there. Her severance must have been that giant clam and pearl. You don’t have to formally quit; management knows when you’ve had enough. I’ve been imagining that morning ever since. She must have woken up like the first kid ever to forget that it was Christmas only to see through bleary eyes that some strange Santa had brought her a giant clam and a pearl.
A few days later, I was awoken from an unrelated dream by a feeling of dread. I knew that she wasn’t there, but I went to her apartment. I went to the cinema. I went to Wendy’s. I went back to my place to see if she was waiting for me there. I went everywhere until I could convince myself that I had exhausted all my options and had to check the one place where she really was. I went to the aquarium, to the giant clam tank. Eyes rimmed its mantel, and two of them were hers. They were dead, but the other eyes looked at me.
Her eyes had always fascinated me. They were big and bright brown. We were reading “The Iliad” in one of my classes when I started working and met her. Homer describes Hera as “ox-eyed,” an epithet that I had overlooked until I saw her for the first time. I had a lot more sympathy for the goddess after that. There seemed to be a rhyme in there somewhere, the eyes of a cow, a goddess, a woman, and a clam strung together like a pearl necklace, but I could never quite divine the underlying connection.
I went to work the next day. The thought that I had been working there for almost six months kept me going. There was a new concession girl. People think of ridiculous questions and several rounds of interviews and callbacks when they think of demanding hiring practices, but it’s not like that. We don’t how management finds us or for how long they watch us, but that’s the interview. No questions are asked, but all are answered. The prospective supervisor just walks up to the prospective employee one day and offers him or her a job. I still wonder why they chose us.
The day came, and the supervisor gave me a ticket. I still have the stub. I mentioned before that the cinema was behind a locked door with no lock, but it might be a bit of a stretch to call it a door. It was more like the end of dead-end hallway. The corridor terminated in a slab of marble with a golden trim that gave the impression of a door. I was always a bit nervous walking up to it, but I would approach it and then, somehow, be inside. To the left was a travel agency, the employees of which sometimes stood in the hallway to catch a glimpse of our comings and goings.
I rolled up to the concession stand like a king. I ordered a red Icee, a blue Icee, and popcorn with sea salt and extra butter, real butter. I took the concessions into the theatre and sat dead center in the back row.
My film began without previews. An old computer booted up. It ran windows XP. The user clicked the KaZaA quick launch icon before all of the start-up programs had finished launching, and the computer froze. “Ha,” I thought, “I do that.” When it was ready, the user searched KaZaA, for a variety of terms. This was the old KaZaA, with all the malware. The searches seemed to be converging on something. The penultimate search was “pearl jam.” “No, not them,” I knew. “Mother of pearl” returned one result, a .avi of the same name. That was the one. The slow and steady download began.
Before the download finished, the user started playing it in the built-in media player. It only played for a second the first time, just long enough to see a door open. The user waited and then tried again. A door opened, and I was behind it, but I was older. In real life, I alternated sips from Icee to Icee, angling my head to watch and drink simultaneously. The user played the file again. I opened the door to a hotel room and a woman was there. It was exactly what I wanted. My friend’s experienced had worried me, and I thought that a similar fate might befall me, but now, seeing that, I felt like I had passed a check on my humanity, like when the doctor hits you in the knee and you kick. The download was almost finished. I opened the hotel room door and gave the woman a gift-wrapped pair of pearl earrings. My heart was pounding. My white-hot jugular throbbed with the redolence of sweat and that morning’s spritz of Polo. The download finally finished.
I opened the door to a hotel room and was greeted by the woman. I give her the earrings. The camera followed her to the mirror as she tried them on. She moved away from the mirror and a giant clam was on the far side of the room. She stood next to the clam, and my reflection, looking straight at the camera through the mirror, threw his arms up and said, “Which one’s the pearl?” A laugh track played afterwards, like he had just said his catchphrase on a sitcom. The only real laugh was from the clam. I felt like I was watching a lost episode of “Married . . . with Children.”
I was the first person ever to be so disgusted with his own subconscious that he walked out. My supervisor was waiting with my severance. He handed me two full plastic bags full of American snacks, but flavors only released in Asia. For reference, one former employee literally got a canvas bag with the dollar sign on it full of cash. I was going to say something until I saw the limited-edition baobab-flavored Japanese Pepsi. My silence was bought. I stopped by Wendy’s on the way home. I got the Baconator to go; eating there without her would have felt wrong. I went home to try some of the snacks and watch a movie. I was in a pretty bad mood, so I put “Sansho the Bailiff” on. I couldn’t see it, though. I rubbed my eyes, and dead skin and sleep swam in the blood on my hands.
If you see a giant clam with blue eyes, kill it for me.
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2020.08.04 02:59 burgerl-over Hotel room hidden camera sex

I started in my bed, loud vibrations and what seemed like deafening people shouting in the background, I couldn’t really tell what they were saying. Suddenly a creepy guy walks into the room opens our room in the dark. I ask him who he is and what he was doing in our place; he hides behind a wall in the dark. I wake up really shaking, and my SO is next to me; I ask her to turn on the light for a second. (This is in real life) she does I take a breather and drink some water and go back to sleep. I keep praying while falling asleep since I felt really shaken and scared.
I’m back in a hotel room this time. I start vibrating, and I start hearing loud TV noises. I see my mom standing on the bed, I give her the biggest hug ever and tell her that I missed her so much. She is gone.
Now I’m back again. In the same room, but this time it’s a little bit different than before. This felt really strange it was not a lucid dream or Aping, I couldn’t control any of my surroundings, I couldn’t fly or go through things. I was just there.
I’m in the room, but it’s a bit dark. There are two guys and a girl. I feel really short in comparison to them; like Alice in wonderland, I keep shrinking. I tell them I don’t want to be so short, they kinda shrug at me and do nothing about it, but eventually, I stop shrinking. I ask them if they are my spirit guides; they say nothing and leave.
I’m suddenly back again in bed. This time a group of people comes into the room, a few guys, talking loud and saying things, I ask them who they are, they tell me, but I can’t remember. I’m on the bed trying to get up, and I ask them for help, two of them pull me up. I leave them for some reason and move to another place.
I go outside, and I see a lot of people. It’s like a massive beach of some sort. Here everyone can see me, and I can see everyone. I feel like I’m in Palestine or Israel, I don’t know why. There seems to be some tension in the air. I ask someone where are we, they say the castle? I can’t really remember exactly. I also remember seeing what seemed like a Palestinian flag.
I walk around and try to read some of the road and shop signs, and I see a lot of familiar logos, one that looked like Pepsi. Still, the words did not make sense, it was like a new language of some sort, a mix of Arabic, Persian, Indian, and Hebrew, or maybe it was entirely something else. I could read some of it, but the words didn’t add up.
Suddenly there is chaos and mayhem, a bunch of what seems to be police comes and breaks up all the vendor stalls on the beach, they start throwing and breaking things. I remember seeing something fall at me, a big table, but I feel nothing. “I hear a guy tell the other leave him, I think he has an American passport,” again I feel like I’m in Israel for some reason, I see what seems to be a Palestinian flag and another that looks like an Israeli flag. I have never been to Palestine/Israel in my life, but I know what their flags look like.
I try to fly to no avail, I try to touch a box, and I could feel it and grab it somehow, my hand wouldn’t just go through. Suddenly the situation shifts and I’m back inside the building; there are a girl and a guy, the girl is all dressed in white and looks like she just came from a music festival, I ask her if she was an angel? Not sure why. She laughs, and then more people show up. I’m again stuck to the floor, trying to get up to avail.
Another group of people show up; they help me get up, and one asks me to follow her. I enter a suspicious room, full of people with eyes covered with what seemed like white medical tape; there is a guy walking around with the tape and what seemed like glue. He freaks me out. I feel like he was coming to get me next. I also see a bunch of children with their eyes covered. I walk around the room for a bit, and I saw two humanoid looking girls watching TV, I ask them if everyone here is also astral projecting, they respond, no it’s just you.
The guy with the tape is around the corner, and I feel again like he is coming to get me, I quickly run and leave the room. I run to what seems to be a big metal door pressing to a back ally, and I can hear one of the doors open then close like someone just ran outside, hiding and not wanting to be seen. I open it to check who just left, but there was no one there and an empty ally.
Suddenly scene change I'm walking around what it seems to be a modern European city. I see a guy sitting there in a cafe looking on the road. I ask him where we are; he says Italy I ask him how I look like? He looks at me like I’m crazy. I ask him if he could show me myself using his phone's camera, he tries, but I couldn’t figure out what I was seeing.
I feel like a month has passed by and I want to go back to my body and wake up, I felt so lost and out of control, like I couldn’t do anything at all. Finally, I’m pulled back to my body. Only about 45 mins have passed since then. I wake up and write my notes.
Edit: Does anyone think this might have been a premonition to what happened in Lebanon?
The water, the hurt children, the chaos, the loud banging, literally fits what I saw in my AP? The humanoids watching TV closely? I don’t know what do you guys think?
Edit 2: So I just googled what downtown Beirut where the blast hit looking for something related to ”the castle” and this is what I found.
Downtown Beriut
Edit 3: I’m leaving this link here for those wondering what happened or haven't heard of it yet.
Beirut’s Explosion
submitted by burgerl-over to AstralProjection [link] [comments]