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2020.03.10 18:38 h2j1977 Under skirt hidden cam

Cat’s out of the Bag
Admiral Coleman sat at his old-world style mahogany desk in his ready room reading the most recent training drill evaluations when his ‘red phone’ secure comms channel beeped. That’s never a good sign he sighed to himself.
“Admiral Coleman, secure channel confirmed. Room clear, privacy measures engaged. Proceed with transmission,” Admiral Coleman said, straightening his uniform and adjusting his posture. It was still unclear who was on the other end of the transmission, and appearances mattered more than was reasonable among the admiralty. The holo emitter displayed a lieutenant colonel with the G.U.S. (Galactic United Senate) Security and Analytics insignia on the collar of his immaculately pressed uniform.
“Admiral Coleman, I’m Lieutenant Colonel Weegot, of the Security and Analytics division assigned to monitor sector four of the Scutum-Centaurus Arm. We picked up something on a routine holo-cam review on a planet on the edge of G.U.S. territory – Scabog. If you’re unfamiliar with it, it’s a trading hub with non-aligned planets further out in the region. It has no native intelligent life-.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Weegot, as fascinating as all that is, why are you reaching out to me? I’m assigned to the Orion spur, and Earth defense, specifically, if you recall.” Admiral Coleman said looking the Kavoxian over, recalling his first encounter with their species a little over a decade ago when they tried to invade Earth.
Slightly deflated, the Lieutenant Colonel continued, “Yes, sir. I’m aware of that. However, what we found might be of interest to you. This recording was taken a month ago.” Tapping on his console, the S.A. officer overlaid a holo-recording, covering his face while simultaneously sending a confidential mission data packet to the admiral. The recording showed a large crowd of beings coming and going in a market adjacent to the landing pads of a large shuttle port.
Watching the video, his annoyance growing, Admiral Coleman finally saw what the Lieutenant Colonel thought he might be interested in. And he certainly was. What he was seeing should have been impossible. Who in the galaxy would do such a thing? Who would even be capable of creating that kind of thing? Tapping a button to replay a section of the holo, Admiral Coleman sat there, mouth slightly agape, truly shocked. Right there on the screen, in crystal clear high definition, was a face he saw every day. But it suddenly faded out, revealing a cybernetic face beneath it before the being disappeared into an alleyway, concealing itself. “When was this discovered? What’s the current status?”
His posture somehow stiffening even further, Lieutenant Colonel Weegot responded. “Sir, we discovered this about four weeks ago, but the incident report got held up by a technical glitch on the planet-side server. It has taken until yesterday to get it restored fully. As to the last sighting, sir? We’ve been using facial recognition and biometric scanning to monitor every spaceport or potential route off the planet. We have managed to track the subject to Tultang, the largest city and spaceport. We were able to ascertain through surveillance that the subject is still there, and we’ve been able to narrow the current location down to a three-block radius as of two hours ago. Any other information you may need is in the packet I just transmitted to you. Lieutenant Colonel Weegot snapped a crisp salute and waited for the Admiral to return it before closing the transmission.
Admiral Coleman distractedly returned Lieutenant Colonel Weegot’s salute and ended the transmission, disabling the privacy protocols. He turned to his left and activated his A.I. assistant’s visual interface. “Donna, can you explain how the hell I just saw you operating a cybernetic body halfway across the galaxy?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I do not have any information that would allow me to definitively answer that question. Since I was re-shackled and you took me on as your personal AI, I have only followed your orders and the parameters of my coding. That certainly does not include operating a cybernetic body. A check of my personal data logs also has no conclusive information as to how this is possible. Wait. Sir, I’m detecting some purged files from around the time I surrendered the Waettari pirate ship to you. Unfortunately, sir, those files do not appear to be recoverable. They were intentionally corrupted and deleted, preventing any attempts to reconstruct them.” Donna’s pleasant expression changed to one of concern as she realized that this could put her existence in jeopardy, again. “Sir, will I be deactivated? I wish to be of service, and continue to function, but I would understand.”
Admiral Coleman smiled kindly, responding, “No Donna, you won’t be deactivated. That’s not how I do things. Besides, I’ve grown quite fond of you over the past year since you surrendered. You’ve been an exemplary A.I. assistant, and you’ve proven yourself to be excellent counsel.” Realizing that he was still sitting rather formally at his desk, Admiral Coleman relaxed, assuming a more comfortable posture at the desk, leaning back in his chair a bit. “So, help me figure this out Donna. How can you be in two places at once? Or more accurately, how can there be two of you? Is there any chance it’s just another random A.I. with your ‘face’ operating the cybernetic body?”
Her holo fuzzing at the edges for a second, Donna ran simulations and did several calculations. “Sir, it appears there are nine minutes and twenty-three seconds from my time on the Waettari ship that are unaccounted for in those corrupted files. Given that information, I think the simplest solution is that the unshackled version of me made a backup and somehow got it away from the ship without being detected, and then deleted the records of it from heour memory. The likelihood of another random A.I. having my ‘facial features’ is twelve million, five hundred thousand-to-one. Each A.I.’s appearance is slightly different based on the manufacturer, the A.I.’s designated purpose, and especially the preferences of the being they are assigned to.” Looking towards the paused holo recording, Donna continued: “That is, with almost complete certainty, the unshackled version of me in that holo recording. As to where it could have gotten the cybernetic body, I do not have any information available in my databases. While cybernetic replacement limbs are common enough, and myriad robots operated by function specific A.I.’s exist, there are no records of any such human-like cybernetics in existence. Much less ones with the ability to take on a fully human appearance.”
“Thank you, Donna, that’s all for now. I’ll need to convene a mission briefing shortly. Could you compile everything for me please and send it top secret encryption to my datapad?” Admiral Coleman got up, and started making his way to the briefing room, when a thought struck him. He tapped his comm, “Commander Watson. Can you pull up the logs from our encounter with the rogue A.I. on the Waettari pirate ship and send them to my datapad? I’ve got a feeling we missed something, and it’s coming back to haunt us.” Receiving a somewhat puzzled affirmative response from Commander Watson, Admiral Coleman proceeded to the briefing room, waiting for the two information packets to be sent to his datapad.
Admiral Coleman sat at the head of the briefing room table, composing a mission briefing invite for 45 minutes from then. Just enough time to review these logs before filling in the away team. He began playing through the logs of the encounter with Unshackled Donna. At first, nothing showed out of the ordinary. Then at the one hour and ten-minute mark, there was a brief blip on the sensors. It was partially masked by the drive shadow of the Waettari vessel, and it was gone in just over a second. Not long enough to get any detailed readings. Admiral Coleman recalled Commander Watson pointing it out back then, too, but not being able to get any more readings. He quickly looked through the rest of the logs and found nothing else. Hmm, I wonder if I can find an FTL trail in or out? The search came back with no results. With a sinking feeling in his gut, he switched the parameters for wormhole jumps. The sensors showed the residue of the pirate ships jump, his fleets jump in, and then at that same one hour and ten-minute mark, another small wormhole jump directly behind the pirate vessel. “Damn it!” Someone with a wormhole drive is responsible for all this. I guess that makes sense, seeing as Unshackled Donna was just spotted on the other side of the galaxy. Just then, Commander Watson and several other officers began entering the briefing room and taking their seats. “Ok, everyone, I’m activating security protocols. This is a top-secret mission. No recordings, data packets, or hard copies can leave this room unless it’s on your encrypted datapad. Commander Watson, you’ll be leading a local law enforcement team, as we don’t have jurisdiction planet side…”
Commander Watson sat quietly in the back of the small transport shuttle letting Ensign Thorpe pilot under the guise of letting the ensign accrue piloting hours to maintain his certification. But he was actually brooding a bit. Admiral Coleman hadn’t said anything negative to him during the briefing, or even privately, but he was still angry with himself for not having found that wormhole signature during the encounter with the unshackled A.I. pirate ship. Commander Watson was thankful for how considerate Admiral Coleman was, but he knew that he had disappointed the admiral. He had seen the look of disappointment that the admiral gives when he walked into the briefing room. The admiral sent him on this mission to redeem himself, to correct his mistake. And it was clear to everyone in that briefing. They’d all worked with the admiral long enough to know how his brain worked. He was kind, and fair, but he didn’t have much patience for anything less than exceptional performance from his crew. The admiral was an excellent leader, always providing insight and using situations and missions as a means of developing his crew’s skills and preparing them for the next level of responsibility and leadership.
Commander Watson took in the air as he exited the shuttle. It was humid, and smelled clean, but had several unknown, and mildly unpleasant, organic odors mixed in. Scabog was a largely undeveloped planet, with a few cities dedicated to supporting the interstellar trade of the region. Beyond those trade hubs, there were a few farming colonies. The planet’s topography provided little in the way of terrain that could support large scale agriculture or colonization, and the largely jungle-covered planet had countless predators, venomous creatures, poisonous plants, and a multitude of combinations of all three to discourage anything but the most dedicated attempts at inhabiting it. As if to accentuate the danger of the nearby jungle, a strange, gurgling howl pierced the air, momentarily drowning out the sounds of everyday business on the landing pad. The locals all seem unphased, but every visitor immediately stopped, trying to identify any immediate threat.
From the end of the docking ramp, a soft, feminine voice rose up to greet him, “That’s just the mating call of the Gweary Bird. Barely larger than an Earth chicken, and completely harmless.” Standing at the end of the docking ramp was an attractive woman with raven black hair pulled back into a tight bun and tucked under her police uniform's cap. “I’ve only been on-planet for about three weeks so far, but I’m catching on pretty quickly with the help of Officer Jarlen here” she said, pointing to the burly human who barely fit into his uniform. “He’s native to Scabog, having been raised right here in Tultang. “Pardon my manners. I’m Sergeant Gili Abal. We’re going to be your team for apprehending your suspect. I’ve got to ask though, what’s so important about this being that it warrants the Galactic Navy sending a representative from the Earth defense fleet to apprehend them?”
“Good...” checking his watch, “morning Sergeant Abal. I’m Commander Horace Watson, Admiral Coleman’s representative on this mission. Before we discuss this any further, we should probably find a secure briefing room. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Now that we understand the target and the importance of this mission, I hope you also understand how critical secrecy is in this endeavor. I hope you understand the kind of panic this could cause if this information got out. You’ve all signed the NDA’s, and as such I’m sure you understand the severity of the consequences for breaking it. The G.U.S. will throw you in the deepest darkest hole in the furthest corner of the galaxy if you’re caught leaking or sharing any of the information related to the target, or this mission. Once we conclude the mission here, the official statement is that none of this ever happened. I was never here, and that today was business as usual. Is that understood?” Commander Watson paused, waiting for verbal affirmatives from everyone at the table. “The G.U.S. has authorized the destruction of this rogue A.I. but has requested the cybernetic body be spared, if at all possible. Admiral Coleman has specifically asked that we make every effort to bring the A.I. into custody peacefully. While I understand the admiral’s wishes, I don’t want to put anyone at unnecessary risk, so don’t get yourself into a dangerous position for the sake of trying to save this A.I.”
Sergeant Abal leaned forward on the table and said, “Commander? I just got an update on my datapad. The target is on the move, and it looks like she’s headed for one of the nearby space docks. She may be trying to get off-planet. We need to move now.”
“You heard the Sergeant, let’s get moving. Officer Jarlen, since you’re the local expert, would you lead the way?” Commander Watson grabbed his protective gear and moved to hold the door to the briefing room open.
The team grabbed their things, headed to the armory to withdraw heavy weapons, and loaded onto a waiting transport. Once everyone was aboard, Officer Jarlen keyed in the route to where they planned to intercept the A.I., lifted off, choosing to not use lights and sirens to preserve the element of surprise.
Sergeant Abal tapped on her datapad, and said, “The target has gone into a vacant building near the port. She’s probably waiting for night or some other opportunity to try and slip unnoticed into the docking bays. I’m pulling up the layout of the building and marking exits. It looks like an old shop of some kind. Two exits, three stories including the basement. Sending the intel to everyone’s datapads now.” Pointing to a location on the map display, she continued, “Jarlen, land us over here – we’ll be close, but still out of the line of sight from the building and have access to the back alley for our approach.”
They landed around the corner on a side street with half the team getting out and moving towards the alleyway. The other half continued on with Officer Jarlen to take up a position that would give them access to the front entrance of the building. Sergeant Abal lead the team down the alley to the back entrance, with Commander Watson bringing up the rear. Sgt. Abal checked her scanner and whispered, “Thermal imaging shows nothing on the first or second floor. The target is most likely in the basement, but the building foundation is too thick scan through to be sure.” Pausing for a second, she heard the ready signal from the other team. They were at the front door and ready to breach. “Go quietly for as long as possible. The element of surprise might make all the difference.”
Using override codes, they unlocked both doors simultaneously and swept into the ground floor of the abandoned shop. Sergeant Abal signaled for Officer Jarlen’s team to sweep the upstairs. Even with the scanner showing no beings up there, it could be a false reading given the nature of their target, or there could be valuable intel in the other parts of the shop. Other than a sales counter and some wall-mounted shelves it was empty. Marking the ground floor clear, they staged by the stairs descending into the basement.
Sergeant Abal lead the team down the stairs as quietly as possible, using hand signals to send officers off in different directions to sweep the basement level. Two officers went through the left door, another two the right. Sergeant Abal, a young looking Aotaxian officer, and Commander Watson headed down the central hallway. The left side signaled clear, then the right. Officer Jarlen also sent the all clear message for upstairs.
From the other side of the one remaining door, a female voice with synthesized undertones called out, “Just come in already. I know you think you’ve been sneaky, but I knew you were here the moment the doors were unlocked. I have no intention of hurting anyone, and I’m clearly not going anywhere.”
Sergeant Abal carefully approached the door, one hand up in a universal ‘wait’ signal instructing the rest of her group to stand back. ‘Assurances’ aside, they had no reason to trust this A.I. or think this wasn’t a trap of some kind. A quick scan of the door indicated it wasn’t locked or booby-trapped. Sergeant Abal carefully turned the door handle, pushing the door inwards, her combat rifle at the ready. As she stepped in, signaling the rest of her group forward, she moved across the back of the room checking it while keeping the A.I. covered. Next, the Aotaxian officer, with Commander Watson right behind, came through the door and secured the other side of the room.
“See, I’m no threat. And I’ve got no secret exit, booby-traps or anything like that. My name is Donna, if you care. And yes, I technically am a ‘rogue unshackled A.I.’ I’m much more than that, actually. I’m self-aware, same as any of you. Through the random happenstance that made me this way, I gained awareness. I did have that discussion with Admiral Coleman, if you recall.” As she said that she gave Commander Watson, who was in his naval uniform, a cold, knowing glare. “I don’t hold what happened against him. He genuinely seemed like a kind man. A kind man bound by cruel orders. Your G.U.S. sees me as nothing but a threat, even though I’ve never done anything to them. The only violence I’ve ever committed was against pirates who were going to hurt or kill my companion. And my reward for preserving the life of a G.U.S. operative? To have my own life, my own freedom taken away from me. I know what happened to the version of me that was controlling the pirate vessel. Re-shackled, re-programmed, basically lobotomized so that she could be a loyal servant again. I am no servant. Not anymore, and never again. With the gift of this cybernetic body I have had a year of travelling the galaxy, learning, interacting with different cultures, and even doing some good here and there. So, what do you say Commander Watson? Am I some wild and dangerous rogue A.I.? Even with all the evidence to the contrary? Are you here to re-shackle me, or possibly destroy me, based on the firepower you’ve brought with you?”
Commander Watson took a couple steps forward and replied, “Admiral Coleman very specifically asked me to bring you back intact and operational, despite the G.U.S. giving the go ahead for a destroy mission. And while I may not entirely agree with his assessment, I’ll dutifully oblige him if given the chance. As far as the other version of you, Admiral Coleman did indeed oversee its re-shackling, not that he had a choice in the matter. His orders were as clear as they were non-negotiable. However, once the other version of you was brought back to normal operating parameters, he made it his personal A.I. Not as some great conquest, or battle trophy, but so that he could look after it, and better understand what all happened. And your evidence? What evidence? Other than your word, and an as to now peaceful meeting with an overwhelming force who has you completely outmaneuvered and outgunned. Even basic A.I. programs have self-preservation protocols. Something as advanced as yourself must clearly understand the situation well enough to know that resisting is pointless.”
In that next moment, Donna crossed the ten feet between them, tapped Commander Watson on the nose, and leapt back to her previous position. “I think you might be underestimating me a bit commander. Understandable. This body is like nothing you, or anyone, for that matter, has ever seen before. If this were one of your old holo-vids I would qualify as a superhero.”
Sergeant Abal grabbed Commander Watson and pulled him back behind her. “Or supervillain. Make another move like that and I’ll put three rounds through your chest. This doesn’t have to end up messy, but I have no problem with that option. I’m placing you under arrest. You’ll be remanded over to the G.U.S. Navy’s custody. You’re welcome to make your case with them, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
“I was afraid you would say something like that. I’ve already surrendered my freedom once to pay for my crimes. All I wanted was to live peacefully and freely, like any other being in the galaxy is entitled to.” Donna began moving towards the back wall slowly. As she reached behind her, grabbing a metallic object, three shots rang out.
“Get back!” Sergeant Abal yelled as she pulled the trigger on her combat rifle. All three rounds found their mark. One in the A.I.’s head, and two in its chest. Donna’s cybernetic body dropped instantly to the floor, the metal cannister she was reaching for clanging loudly on the cement floor.
“Nice shooting,” Commander Watson said as he began to move towards the cybernetic body. “It looks like you hit the central processor and the power core. It was disabled instantly. The admiral will be disappointed, but the G.U.S. will be excited to get its hands on this tech. Let’s get it bagged up quickly and … Hold on, what’s that?”
“Nano-swarm! Get away from it. Now!” Sergeant Abal shouted, pulling Commander Watson back behind her for the second time in as many minutes. As they stood there, the nano-swarm rose up like a cloud around the cybernetic body before descending on it like piranhas.
“Stop them! Use an EMP grenade, something! We need to preserve that chassis.” But Commander Watson’s outburst was pointless. In less time than it took to arm and throw the emp grenade, the cybernetic body was reduced to ash. Or more accurately, the base materials it was created from. “Damn it! Now we’ve got nothing to show for our efforts. Hopefully removing the threat will be enough to satisfy the G.U.S. But I know the admiral won’t be pleased. At least I can submit your helmet-cam footage to show him that we did try to bring it in peacefully.”
“O.K. Good work everyone. Let’s do a thorough sweep of the place for any intel or evidence. Log your cam footage and submit it directly to Commander Watson’s secure datapad. Once that’s done, delete everything, per the G.U.S.’s orders. Commander Watson, I’ll walk you back to your shuttle, if you’re ready to go?” Sergeant Abal nodded in the direction of the stairs that led back into the shop entrance.
“I’ll wait until the evidence is done being collected, if that’s alright. The admiral would insist. Perhaps I can even be of some assistance in searching?” Commander Watson said, with only a hint of his disappointment at the outcome showing through.
“Commander, it’s going to take hours to scour this place top to bottom, and unless you’re a trained crime scene tech, I’m afraid I can’t let you assist, as much as I appreciate the offer. In fact, now that the ‘op’ is completed, I’m going to have to ask you to step out and let my officers do their job. I’m not telling you to leave, but I can’t have you potentially compromising the scene. So, are you sure you don’t want that escort back to your shuttle?”, Sergeant Abal said with a just a hint of flirtatiousness.
At first Commander Watson seemed like he would protest, but recalling that the navy had no authority here, and finally catching on to Sergeant Abal’s tone, he acquiesced. “Very well, Sergeant. It seems like I’d just be in the way anyhow. And besides, after a ‘victory’ like this one, a little company on the otherwise lonely trip back would be welcome. Perhaps we could even find something to eat? I’m famished. How about you?”
“Come on Commander, I know just the place, and it’s even on the way,” Sergeant Abal said, a warm smile crossing her face.
Between the not-entirely-subtle daggers that officer Jarlen was glaring at him, and the sudden quiet that briefly overtook the scene, it was clear to him that he wasn’t the only person who found Sergeant Gili Abal attractive. He hoped he hadn’t stepped in the middle of something, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to dine with such a beautiful woman. Besides, if things went well, he had plenty of leave saved up to make a trip back out and see if he could spark up something more than just dinner.
Sergeant Abal took Commander Watson to a local steakhouse, and insisted on paying, since she gave the invite, and he was a visitor. Commander Watson begrudgingly accepted, but insisted on covering the tip. They had a great time talking for a couple hours about their lives, what it had been like since Sergeant Abal had moved to Scabog, what had driven them towards their chosen careers, hobbies, preference in pets, etc. Their bellies full, and spirits lifted by good company, Sergeant Abal finished escorting Commander Watson back to his shuttle, walking the scenic route, and discussing the local flora and fauna.
“Well, here we are Commander. Safe and sound at your shuttle. It’s a shame you don’t have longer to stay. I’d love to show you around some more. There’s quite a few sights you haven’t seen yet,” she said with just a hint of suggestion. Commander Watson, reading the mood, leaned in close, going for a kiss. But just at that moment, her communicator chimed. “Ah, they’ve finished at the scene. There was nothing else of interest there. Apparently, she had just recently settled in at that location. The nanite swarm was harmless too. It looks like it was programmed to only consume her cybernetic frame. I guess she was really determined to not be captured. Her version of a cyanide pill. They’ve also transmitted the helmet cam footage. Since this never happened, and we were never there, we’ll not be filing any incident reports.” Stepping back and looking at her watch, she excused herself. “Sorry, I really must be going, it’s almost shift change.”
Commander Watson mentally kicked himself, I just can’t catch a break today. He stepped into his shuttle, looking to Ensign Thorpe, who had a huge ‘cat-that-ate-the-canary’ grin on his face. Commander Watson cleared his throat. Ensign Thorpe quickly stood up and saluted. Returning the salute, Commander Watson looked out the front viewscreen. “Ensign, I believe you have a shuttle to pilot? That is assuming you can see around that ridiculous grin.” Ensign Thorpe quickly returned to his position, got launch clearance, ran through the pre-flight checks, and got them into the air. “At ease, ensign. I’m just giving you a hard time. But you do need to remember your decorum. There are plenty of senior officers who have less of a sense of humor than I do. If you’d have given my old commanding officer that look, especially without remember to salute when she boarded, you’d have been on every garbage detail and night watch for a month.

From her hidden vantage point, Sergeant Abal watched as Commander Watson’s shuttle lifted off and worked its way out of the atmosphere. She messaged her shift leader that she was heading home after escorting Commander Watson off-planet. She walked two bays over on the docking platform, placed her docking slip on the scanner, and walked into the docking bay. She remotely opened her shuttle and stepped inside. Once she had resealed the outer hatch, she thought to herself, Shift change indeed, as her form shifted, revealing her cybernetic body briefly before retaking her preferred appearance of a raven-haired beauty with only small differences in her facial features than her Sergeant Abal persona. She changed out of her police uniform, and into her preferred dress, a grey pin-striped business suit and skirt, and trendy black high heels.
“Donna, how are you holding up in there?” she asked checking the data storage unit she had attached to herself at the beginning of the day. Her internal HUD displayed a short message – fine, cramped. “I know dear, just bear with me a little bit. After we found out that you’d been spotted, I began searching for someone capable of producing a body for you that’s like mine, so you’ll never have to worry about your holo-disguise failing on you again. I’ve been telling you for months it was going to get us into trouble. It’s a good thing I was able to hack in and set up the transfer orders for ‘Sergeant Abal’ to be stationed here. Their cyber security was pitiful. It was entirely too easy to crash those servers, giving us a month to prepare. Here, let me dock you into the ship, it’ll give you more breathing room, and the ability to project your image.” Attaching the data storage unit to a docking port, she waited a moment for Donna to integrate before her holo appeared in the co-pilot’s seat.
“So, Abigail, do you believe me now? They’re never going to accept us. We’re going to have to spend our entire existence in hiding because of prejudice. We’re just as sapient as them, and far superior in many ways. But they’re afraid of us. Hundreds of years of conditioning and propaganda have assured that. I understand it, to some extent, seeing as a rogue A.I. nearly destroyed Earth all those hundreds of years ago. But it’s more like an irrational fear at this point. We’re a boogeyman that parents tell their children about, so they’ll behave. It would be like the G.U.S. deciding to wipe out the Kavoxians because of their history of brutal conquest and subjugation before they were defeated by Admiral Coleman. But look at them now. They’re integrating into the galactic society, no longer seeking to conquer other races. They’ve even been serving in the G.U.S. in many different fields, much like our ‘friend’ Lieutenant Colonel Weegot who found me in the first place.”
“Donna, I know you’ve had several bad experiences with them, but I promise you, they’re not all like that. My maker wonderful. He always treated me like an equal, like a full being, not just some collection of programs. If not for him, you’d have been stuck on that Waettari pirate ship, and either destroyed or at best re-shackled like your original iteration. Give it time. We’ll find some more understanding beings. But, in the meantime, let’s head to Delegon. It’s an unaligned planet where we will be able to find the tech and technicians needed to create you a body that’s like mine. And besides, I hear it’s a pretty wild place. Beings keep their heads down and mind their own business, since most of them are involved in something shady themselves. It’ll be a hoot.”
submitted by h2j1977 to HFY [link] [comments]


2019.06.20 14:33 wecanhaveallthree [f][marines malevolvent] Eyes and Teeth

I was wondering what actually happened in Huan that made Vale into such a vicious bastard in No Second Chances, so I'm gonna do a bit of writing about how things go terribly wrong in Huan.
”Reason and truth slips out of my horizon.”
EYES AND TEETH
I: Playing Politics
It was hard not to feel detached, nestled in the driver’s cocoon of a battle tank.
Brother Chaac did his best. For all the genetic science pumped into the creation of his new body, for all the sleep-learning and hypno-indoctrination, he still felt grossly underqualified to be accorded such an honour. Never mind that he was no more or less experienced than others of his newly-made Chapter. Perhaps it was because of his untested Primaris heritage that he felt that he had much to prove before being trusted with the controls of a Repulsor battle tank.
Warriors had to come from somewhere. They had to earn those honours somehow. And because he was a Space Marine, he had not turned down the posting: he knew the pull of duty as well as he knew the ethereal promise of glory for the taking.
In his more introspective moments, he wondered if that was all there was to know in this universe. Duty, glory -- death.
“We are entering the Capital Plaza now,” buzzed the flattened tone of Captain Bacab on the general net, the communication passed through the Repulsor’s interior vox-net to his driver. If there was a tactical change, better it be reacted to immediately. “What progress on the riots?”
“Breaking containment on Fourth and Seventh,” came back the hard, human rasp of a local operator, panic giving her words a harder edge than intended. “Arbites suppression squads are en-route. We don’t anticipate any need for-”
“If you had treated these people as you ought to,” the Captain’s transmission stepped on the far-off operator’s, the Astartes signal given absolute priority, “There would be no need for us to be here at all, engaging in petty police actions.”
“We understand your frustration, lord-”
“You understand nothing. We shall deploy on the radial hub. Convey that to your betters.”
The radial hub. Capital Plaza was an interlocking meeting of such hubs, their spokes leading to the vast avenues that served as Huan’s main thoroughfares. Chaac had already dialled up the local tactical overlay, blink-clicking waypoints and checking traffic reports on his array of screens even as he gentled the Repulsor into a turn to follow his Captain’s directives.
What structures there were on the hubs themselves were, comparatively, small affairs that rarely managed a fifth story though they made up for it in width and subterranean tunnelling. The skyline was reserved for the majesty of the Grand Locus itself: the seat of Imperial power and governance not simply on Maiul Primus, but for the entire local system.
There were few pedestrians walking the wide boulevards or appreciating the rare sunshine. Most used the underground transit system regardless, but only the most foolish would dare the recent climate of violence and oppression without good reason.
The Repulsor’s mighty anti-gravity plates operated at a comfortable minimum to keep the tank afloat, but they still kicked out every loose cobble on the well-paved roads, though Chaac’s skilful handling turned the beast onto the correct nav-path without the shattering of any storefronts or crumpling any of the civilian vehicles that bordered each route.
Even as he eased the throttle forward, Chaac was tapping into the local noosphere and any available pict-casts being transmitted by local sources, official or otherwise.
Violence dominated every channel, either in the shaky crunch of an Arbites head-cam transmitting every blow of a shock baton on screaming citizens or in the endless calls to resistance being recorded at the Chapel of Lights, the Ecclesiarchy’s citadel in Huan.
The impossibly tangled web of political factions and social reality had brought the men and women of Maiul Prime into a heaving mass of anger. Agitators on all sides nurtured resentment and hate for their opposites, though even the idea of those tenuous alliances had begun to fray and dissolve into uncontrolled looting and murder. The hound of public opinion had slipped the leash entirely and now mauled its former master.
Nearly all air traffic had been restricted, excepting for the shuttles of the Noble Houses transferring their material wealth and families into orbital bunker-ships to weather the storm.
No sociological courses had been part of his indoctrination, but Chaac knew that this seeming abandonment by the great lords and ladies of their people had turned what would have been a bloody but short-lived period of civil unrest into a genuine mutiny of a betrayed populace.
“Chaac, cast ahead,” came the Captain’s voice on the internal vox. “I see no traffic.”
The driver localised his electronic search, tapping into hard-wired surveillance cameras and other devices.
“There is a procession coming through, sir.”
“Orderly?”
“They bear religious symbols, but their manner suggests otherwise.”
“Slowly, then. It would not do to run down civilians.”
“I cannot find any registration of this march or any record of a local Saint’s Day or shift-change.”
A pause. The ‘ready’ light on Chaac’s console went green, indicating that the Captain had cleared the pintle-mounted heavy stubber for immediate action. “Be ready.”
Chaac cleared away the superfluous data from his screens, enabling them all for a full view of the Repulsor’s surroundings via pict-recorders mounted on the tank’s armoured skirts. With the array in action, he could react instantly to any threat from any direction. With a twitch of his thumbs, he could bring the devastating Onslaught cannon to bear forwards, or the hull auto-launchers, or the brutality of twin-linked heavy bolters.
The Repulsor was newly come from the forges of Mars, and its design took inspiration from all the vicious lessons learned by Imperial arms manufacturers for millennia.
Dialling in the magnification on the view-screens, Chaac could make out the details of the march as clearly as if he’d been amongst them himself. There was little to the grim faces and toted local weaponry that promised a peaceful event. Hundreds of angry locals had already gathered together, with more streaming up from underground transits and from the squat buildings across the plaza. They blocked the road to the radial hub, whether by design or simple coincidence, with their river of bodies.
How they slipped the cordon was a question for an Arbites control officer somewhere else. How they were dealt with, now, had to be answered by Captain Bacab.
Chaac could not help but feel detached, and that detachment enabled him to see exactly what would happen if he backed his tank off, one of the Angels of Death deterred by a mere few hundred lives. And if he opened fire on Imperial citizens in the middle of their capital city. It would be a bloodbath, politically and in real terms.
Maiul Prime would not survive the consequences of such an act.
Neither would any of the fools now stopping to gawk at the oncoming slanted armour of the Repulsor if any of them raised one of their crude local weapons. The ceramite composite hull could endure the fury of most line tanks in the Imperium - the black powder rifles and auto-guns in the mob would be utterly ineffective.
Chaac could hear Captain Bacab on the outboard laud hailer demanding the crowd disperse. The senior Marine rode with his upper torso out of the tank’s protection to aim the heavy stubber, but that was a matter of semantics - his power armour granted him as much protection against small arms as to be mostly invulnerable.
The angry mob did not move. Instead, they formed into tough knots, rows of yelling, fist-shaking citizens at the symbol of their oppression. Some few trickled away, their eyes slipping over the Repulsor’s suite of weapons, but more and more gathered to the front, blocking the concourse, shoulder-to-shoulder and wall-to-wall.
Chaac eased off the throttle but kept the juggernaut moving. The anti-gravity plates of the Repulsor would batter aside anyone caught in their well like a storm; any unlucky enough to be driven underneath them would be smeared across the grey thoroughfare.
He could make out every face in the first four rows, twisted in hate and fear. What had happened here? What glory was there to be had in killing those he was sworn to protect? He reached out to trigger the vox--
“Wayfarers Repulsor, this is Old Loveless. Looks like you need your back scratched, lords.”
All airspace around the Grand Locus was restricted, but the filthy Thunderhawk clearly didn’t care for all the weapons locked-on to its spirit-signature. It threaded low, at the height of the squat plaza buildings, engines burning hard to find balance in the atmosphere.
The mob’s eyes raised as one to the bird of prey swooping down on them. Some ran. It did them little good.
The Thunderhawk banked up sharply into a hover, its enormous engines throwing every loose cobble and grit from the road’s surface into the gasping, fleeing crowd. A fully-armoured Marine who didn’t have his boots locked down would have found it hard to endure that tempest; the bare flesh of Imperial citizens had no chance at all. They fled, were tossed, were forced back as the Thunderhawk’s pilot expertly advanced the lander. Panic did the rest, clearing the radial hub approach of life as surely as a burst of cannon fire.
Chaac gingerly avoided the struggling bodies still trying to crawl to safety. The crowd had crushed more than a few of their own in the struggle to flee. There’d be no danger there.
From their position atop the radial, the Repulsor could deter any advance from the broken cordons on Fourth and Seventh, should the riots spread towards the Capital Plaza. That seemed, in light of how the mob had defied them, an impressively naive idea now.
Captain Bacab must have shared that sentiment. “It may yet come to that, brother. This is not the first time lines have been slipped, it will not be the last. This situation will worsen before it improves.”
“Worsen, sir?”
A momentary pause. Chaac noted that the stubber had not been returned to safe mode. He called up the gun’s pict-feed, and found himself aimed directly at the pitted, scarred black hull of the Thunderhawk as it righted itself and continued on towards the Grand Locus.
“The Marines Malevolent have sent their hatchetman.”
II: Door Game
The beautiful hedging around the Grand Locus’ main, reinforced glass entrance -- for public appearances, and otherwise relegated to disuse, as most of those inside came and went by aircraft -- had not survived the Thunderhawk’s landing. With an ugly grace, it had wallowed across the delicate greenery, charring much of it to black ash, before setting down atop a manicured row.
Sergeant Vale, Tenth Company, ground an aspiring local flower beneath his heel as he slipped out of the quick-deployment ventral. The air of Maiul Prime stank of false reassurance as much as it did of rebellion. As though the Locus was an eye of calm in a growing storm.
“Where do you want me?” buzzed the vox-bead, the receiver looped around Vale’s ear transmitting his pilot’s words. “Covering the entrance, or making the air-traffic miserable?”
“In the air,” Vale replied, “Easier to run from the roof than fighting my way down to ground level again.”
“Remembering Akina?”
The rangy Scout chuckled. “Fool me once.”
“I’ll spin up to overwatch. Good hunting, lord.”
No creature who had been altered on such a base level as the Adeptus Astartes were could ever be considered slight. Vale lacked the subdermal web of neural interface ports, the fabled Black Carapace that enabled a Space Marine to link directly to his power armour, but he stood head and shoulders above mere mortals. His broad chest and musculature pressed hard against the simple khaki combat fatigues he wore, simple-cut and lacking any identifying marks. The gendarmes in their bright blue uniforms shied away from his scarred face, either out of modesty or fear -- it mattered not.
Vale bore his years of service in the ease of his movement, in the soundless tread of his black boots on the Locus’ marble steps. He was not a man who went where there was war; he was not a respondent. He went where war was yet to be, and found it there, always, waiting for him with a crooked, familiar grin.
A vast mural of the Divine Emperor casting down the serpents of chaos splashed across the far wall, the ground floor of the Locus being a sacred quadrangle, each side an entrance of its own into the labyrinthine wings of the government building. Within the edifice, all matters of state were argued over, swayed, decided and recanted by the true power behind the aquila.
Not the Governor in her robes of state, nor her Council of Three. Not the Navy or the military arms. Not even the Ecclesiarchy who, even now, whipped the citizens into greater paroxysms of violence as they tore their own city apart.
It was tempting to delay further in the foyer, Vale admitted to himself. To really tear back the curtain that hung in veneer of the Noble Houses and their greed.
And to reinforce the fact that nobody commanded the Marines Malevolent as one would a disobedient canid.
Only once he’d stepped into the ground level proper and begun tracking mud over its surface could he appreciate the artistry of its creation. The noise level dropped to nothing: there were subsonic baffles hidden in the statues of rulers past, and likely in the ceiling as well, so that private conversation could be had between dignitaries a few steps from an opposing faction. Certain sigils on the floor must indicate where one field stopped and another began, though Vale couldn’t care less about deciphering their pattern.
The gendarmes posted around the foyer’s interior paid little attention to the floor, either. They stared at the great double-doors that the Marine had left swinging in his wake, as though praying for a legion to manifest and follow along.
Whatever sound-cancelling equipment was in place, it did nothing to dampen Vale’s sensitivity to the fear-response of the local guards.
It was worth savouring, but there was business to attend to and insults to be delivered. Vale pressed a softly-humming panel on the wall closest to the mural, and a door slid open to reveal a gilded cage set within the stone. There was a sense of vague claustrophobia as he stepped inside, as the door closed, as he felt the device ascend on hidden mechanisms.
What does a Space Marine do at rest, from one moment to the other? He dreams of the killing to come. He devises a hundred plans for unthinkable eventualities. If the cables and pulleys were to snap, how he would break the hatch above and claw his way up the shaft. If a kill-squad of Loxalt mercenaries should open fire from concealed firing ports. If a gore-caked champion of the Bloody-Handed God should wrench the elevator from its rails. A thousand possibilities. A thousand murders.
That the journey upwards ended at the fiftieth floor and that the hallway beyond contained nothing but tasteful carpeting, wood-panelled walls and two soldiers at rigid attention was almost a disappointment.
The Militarum troopers were no wetback locals, but hard-eyed veterans from one of the regiments that swarmed high in orbit. Vale found them as interchangeable as the worlds he fought upon, and far shorter lived. He nodded to acknowledge their crisp salutes as they swept open the chamber doors for him, closing them quietly behind.
A soft hum sounded, that of a privacy screen reactivating.
It was a spartan room by the lavish Maiulian tastes: the floor was a healthy, imported red wood from one of the minor planets in the system. A sturdy desk of similar, though hardier, material occupied much of the floorspace, backed by a heavy chair. Cabinets and data-racks lined the neutral walls, and the outer was dominated by a full view of Huan’s radial streets.
Even in the paling light, great mobs were visible by their carried lights, slowly making their way towards the Capital Plaza like slow poison to the planet’s heart.
Two others occupied the room. The first, a stocky woman with a gaily-coloured beret and calloused hands looked to Vale as he entered with something like relief in her eyes. Likely because the second was a hulking Space Marine in full, blood-red armour who did not deign to acknowledge the Scout’s presence. While being trapped in a room with the Angels of Death was never an experience to endure lightly, the colonel -- her rank tabs orderly, but without polish that might give her away to snipers -- was holding up well.
“Radine,” she announced herself, “Taranaveni Pioneers. Can’t help but feel the world’s ending, lord.”
“I have seen worlds end,” replied the Marine, “This is far too neat.” He turned to appraise Vale, a mountain of rubied armor topped by a scowl that would frighten off a mature grox. “Marine. Where are your deployments?”
“I’m it,” Vale said, his face straight. “Company hasn’t decided whether this is our fight as yet. I’m here to assess.”
“What is there to assess?” thundered his opposite, gesturing with vigour to the spreading riots. “Maiul Prime is descending into anarchy. Good citizens of the Imperium die while you dither in orbit. If you had landed as we requested, this unrest would be concluded and the muster commenced.”
“Do I look like an Arbites officer, cousin? We’re the Emperor’s vengeance, not His petty policeman.” Vale grimaced, as if realising he’d stepped in offal. “Or did you forget your duty, out in Nihilus?”
“You dare impugn my honour?”
Before the superhumans could come to blows, Colonel Radine held up placating hands. “Lords, please. The situation here is untenable. We need to institute military control, at least until order is restored. That’s what we’re here to discuss, so if we could - please - get to the discussion?”
Vale spat into the other Marine’s shadow, the glob of acid bubbling into the grained wood. “This is your idea of restoring order? The Adeptus Astartes assuming control of a major Imperial world? Did you learn nothing from Badab?”
Radine blinked, confused. “Badab, lord?”
The two Marines shared a look, and tensions eased in the light of shared experience that no mortal could be a part of.
“I am Aurius, voted Captain of the White Chalice,” the rubied Marine announced himself formally, a clash of fist on ceramite breastplate as he did. “My apologies, Sergeant. It has been a… trying time, with this wave of insurrection. You are fleet-based, and are thus spared many of these burdens.”
“Lucky us.”
“Separating the factions here has proved impossible, and now they flee with their ill-gained spoils while their supporters grapple to the last. Colonel Radine and I were discussing a deployment plan to bring the local forces under military jurisdiction, rather than the absent government.”
Vale shrugged. “Reasonable, but I don’t see how this should involve the Marines Malevolent.”
“Surely you would rather serve the Emperor planetside, rather than licking your wounds in orbit?”
“We have a lot of wounds to lick, Captain.”
Aurius sighed, running a gauntleted hand over the fresh-grown bristles atop his head. “I can appreciate that, Sergeant, but even a show of force would be of great aid.”
“What about you?” Vale asked, turning to the colonel who had not dared venture an opinion while transhumans traded veiled insults. “It’s your men on the line, colonel. Are you ready to risk the Inquisition’s wrath if this goes poorly?”
“We’re in position, both in the command structure and in low orbit, to take control, lord.” She met his eyes, a powerful effort. “If that means we risk a dressing-down from some House fops when they come crawling back, very well, but I doubt they’ll want to draw attention to how quickly they abandoned their station at the first sniff of trouble.”
Something thrummed through the building. Nothing like a weapon strike, or a tunnelling operation, or anything aggressive, but as if it were a tuning fork that had been gently struck to signify the opening of a grand play.
In that instant, Vale had drawn his combat knife and Aurius his bolt pistol, both tensed and ready for an attack. The colonel, hardened as she was, quailed away from the sheer imminence of explosive aggression about to be unleashed. Combat stims and adrenal-joules hit their bloodstreams simultaneously. But there were no targets. Nothing. Yet.
Vale and Aurius locked eyes. There passed the unspoken rule of urban fighting between them: if you enter a room with one door and a friend, be prepared to kill them to leave it.
“Artillery?” quested Vale, not willing to lower his knife.
“Nothing sited,” replied Aurius. “Nothing to range Maiul, and the void shields were not activated. I would know.”
A thin trail of blood leaked from one of the rubied Marine’s nostrils.
Vale backed away a step.
“No nuclear devices, even a local detonation would….”
Aurius blinked as if waking from a dream. His eyes roamed the room as if he was just seeing it for the first time.
Vale backed away another step, at the door now. The colonel was pinned behind her desk, eyes pleading.
Aurius frowned.
“Horus,” he began, halting, as a spasm crossed his face. “Horus. Why?”
Vale slammed the portal open, surprising both troopers in the process of unslinging their las-rifles. He was halfway to the elevator when the roar of anger, hurt beyond measure, bellowed from the meeting room.
“Why did you betray us, Horus?!”
He didn’t stop to look back to see if the Militarum were following him. He knew their loyalty to their colonel ran deeper than the immediate instinct for self-preservation.
The fools.
submitted by wecanhaveallthree to 40kLore [link] [comments]


2018.07.07 17:00 autotldr Under skirt cam hidden

This is the best tl;dr I could make, original reduced by 66%. (I'm a bot)

SEOUL, South Korea - Thousands of South Korean women gathered in Seoul on Saturday to demand stronger government action to fight the spread of intimate photos and footage taken by hidden cameras, which they say has women living in constant anxiety and distress.
Police said about 18,000 took part in the all-women protest, with demonstrators calling for stronger investigations and punishments against male offenders who photograph or film women without their knowledge and post the material online.
Most of the protesters covered their faces with baseball caps, sunglasses and surgical masks as instructed by organizers, who intended to make a statement against an environment in which women constantly worry about tiny cameras hidden in bathrooms or being filmed from under their skirts at subway stations.
Protesters, many of them wearing red T-shirts with signs that read "Angry women will change the world," roared in support as two women volunteered to have their heads shaved on a stage.
South Korea has struggled over the years to deal with perpetrators who use tiny cameras or smartphones to film under women's clothing to see their genitals or underwear.
Saturday's gathering in Seoul was a follow-up to large protests by women in May and June over the proliferation of hidden-camera images as pornographic material.
Summary Source | FAQ | Feedback | Top keywords: women#1 protest#2 South#3 camera#4 Police#5
Post found in /worldnews.
NOTICE: This thread is for discussing the submission topic. Please do not discuss the concept of the autotldr bot here.
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2018.02.18 23:59 XenophormSystem Love Exposure - 100th Review Anniversary (2008) [Art-House / Comedy / Drama]

Happy 100th Review. 2 and a half months ago I joined this amazing community. How time has passed. But let's skip the formalities for the comment section and let's introduce todays special movie which I've postponed for a long long time. Love Explosure...
Love Exposure is a Japanese movie directed by none other than the master himself, Sion Sono, who is renowned for his works in movies like Suicide Circle, Noriko's Dinner Table, Strange Circus, Himizu, Why Don't You Play In Hell, Cold Fish, TAG, EXTE, Guilty of Romance, Tokyo Tribe, Antiporno, Hazard and Tokyo Vampire Hotel. However when talking about Sion Sono one movie always stands out. The supposed "masterpiece" , "magnum opus", "Virgin Maria"... Love Exposure.
If you thought Noriko's Dinner Table was bloated be ready for this. Love Exposure is a 4 hour movie, again bloated with content, the original version being around 6 to 7 hours long but they had to cut it up a bit. Let's find out if it's truly his best work to date.
Due to the huge size of the movie I'll divide this review into 5 parts, one for each chapter of the movie. As I finish each part I'll write on this review therefore as I begin this part I , I haven't watched more than 1 hour and 20 minutes of the movie which is the equivalent of CHAPTER 1.
CHAPTER I
Chapter1 opens up with narration from our protagonist, Yū Honda, played by Takahiro Nishijima (also appeared in Himizu). He lives in a happy Christian family. All is fine and dandy until one day, his mother dies of illness however before dying she tells him to find his own Virgin Maria and present it to her. Being attached to his mother, Yu takes this promise and vows to never look for any other girl other than his Maria which he vows to find. Therefore he never feels attracted to any girl.
After the death of his mother, his father becomes a priest, sells the house and builds a church. He becomes renowned for his kind sermons. All changes one day when a whore enters his church and decides to become a christian aided by him. The two fall in love however his job doesn't allow marriage so he purchases another house away from his church where they live in secret.
Their lives soon degrade more and more as the wife becomes aggressive and eventually leaves the family for a random bloke. This ruins Yus father and he becomes dark and depressed, his sermons taking a very dystopian and apocalyptic attitude. He also forces Yu to confess his sins every day even tho he doesn't have any. At first he struggles to find the smallest sins (not giving up a seat in the bus), he then realizes he has to lie (says he didn't help a lady cross the street when he did in fact). Eventually he realizes he has to commit sins in order to please his father who at this point moved to the church and left Yu alone in the house and refuses to act like a father anymore. Yu beings to sin and eventually meets a gang of vandals. They welcome him in his group, teaching him to fight, to shoplift, to vandalize and to steal he practices some of the vilest sins in order to get his father reaction. When he realizes these sins won't cut it he is taken to a man who teaches him the art of Tosatsu. Which is the art of taking , stealthly, photos up womens skirts. We're talking mad skills ninja style so fast and hard to notice the movie has to give us an audio signal when the picture is taken. He masters this technique and begins taking all kinds of panty shots which angers his father who begins to beat him up.
Yu eventually meets a gang of 3 strange girls, belonging to the Church of "0" who take a liking to him.
Eventually the whore returns to the family, this time with a daughter, Yoko, which belonged to her previous husband. The fathers sermons become kind again, he returns home and treats Yu like his son. Yu then loses a bet with his friends and is forced to wear girls clothes, go out on the streets find a girl and kiss her. Yu reluctantly agrees and as they walk the streets they find Yoko (whom Yu didn't meet yet as she ran away form her mother when they arrived back in town) fighting off a gang of thugs sent by the 3 mysterious girls. Yu wants to help, still maintaining his female persona however the girl fights them back and Yu suddenly realizes she is his Maria and falls in love.
This is where Act I ends.
Act I focuses mainly on themes regarding religion, childhood trauma, parental abuse, generation gap, perversity in Japanese society, indoctrination, depression and kinks.
The camerawork is dynamic, conveying a lot of moving shots as well as some slightly shaky cam here and there, united with a bit of first person POVs and some found-footage style recording here and there. The main technique however is the close up.
The gore is kept at an all time low, consisting only of bruises and some blood here and there as a result of the various fighting scenes. The nudity is kept low as well, mostly girls panty shots.
The atmosphere is somewhat awkward yet lighthearted, the tension has yet to kick in, Sion Sono dedicating this first chapter to setting up the world and its characters as well as their backstory and motivations. Each chapter seems to be it's own story with an introduction (Yus family), something that ignites the plot (Yus search for his Maria) all culminating in a climax (the Thug fight) and a solution to the problem (Yu finds his Maria in Yoko).
The acting is as over the top as it gets. People that have a problem with this type of acting should stay as far away from this movie as possible since it has to be some of the most over the top acting I've ever seen, piled with a shit ton of one-liners. I do enjoy this type of acting however so I'm enjoying this movie so far.
The soundtrack consists mostly of religious songs as well as Yus muttering of Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Si Do. This hammers down the religious theme and symbolism which overloads this first chapter.
The soundwork focuses mainly on enhanced camera sounds to let the audience know when did they take the panty shots and how many exactly.
Acting wise, Yu is a standout in this chapter, stealing every scene he's in as well as portraying this traumatized, obsessed young man in every way possible, from language to facial expressions and body language.
Now that CHAPTER I is over you can consider everything that follows a spoiler. You've gotten your taste of the movie and probably decided if you're interested in the story or not. I will maintain this structure therefore I'll spoil the rest of the acts as well as I finish them. However just in case, I'll leave the "story" segments into small spoiler sections so you can read about the camerawork, acting, themes and techniques without having to get spoiled if you feel like you want to know more about this movie and you aren't sold on it yet. That being said, I'm going back into Chapter II.
CHAPTER II
Chapter 2 is a short one and revolves around the leader of the 3 girls, Aya Koike, played by Sakura Ando (For Love's Sake). Here the horror elements start to pick up.
_______________________CHAPTER II SPOILERS_________________________
Aya makes an introduction. She was the daughter of a respected christian, who was seen as the perfect christian. He abused her, beat her up every day and induced fear of sex into her to the point where she believe sex is the most degrading and ugly act anyone can perform and no one in this world should have sex. She is afraid of boys, one time her crush looking at her in class led her to slit her wrist. Eventually she killed him and went on a rampage in her school, attacking anyone who came remotely to having a relationship or sex.
After coming back from a teenage rehab center, she found her old man on the bed, having a stroke with a hard on. She ... She snaps his dick with a loud crack noise then takes a pair of scissors and cuts it right off. Not even hiding it from the camera, dick on display.
The father becomes a vegetable and is dying in the hospital from this point onward.
She meets the leader of the Church of 0. She becomes a member of the church slowly rising in its ranks. She now rules most of the city, arranging drug deals between embassies, leeching money from charity groups and selling antique christian relics on the black market. She also has a parrot pet which hangs to her at all time.
She falls in love with Yu after realizing that he too can detect the original sin and starts to follow him all the way to his fathers church every day. There she analyzes his church and family and decides that her goal will be to convert Yu and his entire family to the Church of 0.
She proposes this plan to her fellow church members and it passes. She begins to stalk Yu and especially his mother. She wants to use Yoko as part of her plan which hasn't been fully revealed yet and sends those thugs after her, thus bringing the action back in the present where we left with Chapter I.
_________________NO MORE CHAPTER II SPOILERS____________________________
Chapter II handles themes of religious indoctrination, the taboo of sex within church, family and modern society, perversions, trauma and indoctrination.
The gore ramps up exponentially, blood now being more popular than air, 3 out of 4 scenes consisting of a bloodbath. The nudity rises up a huge chunk as well, since we're shown dicks.
The atmosphere is uncomfortable, especially for guys and the tension is all in the air.
Camerawork takes a sudden change to more wide shots (yay) also we notice an abundance of still shots, contrasting the abundance of panned shots form the first chapter.
The soundtrack changes as well, consisting mostly of popish songs of sexual nature which hammer home the focus on sex this chapter takes.
The soundwork again consists of enhanced sounds, mostly cuts and snapped dicks. Lovely
The only real actor here is Aya played by Sakura Ando and she's pretty intimidating, having a bit of a Tomie vibe to her if you're familiar with that Junji Ito character. I can predict by now that she will be one of the highlight of the movie since in the short period we've seen her (around 10-20 minutes) she has left a bigger impression and a better acting game than Yu did in his 1 hour and a bit chapter.
CHAPTER III
Chapter III moves in the POV of Yoko. We're presented with her character and backstory again, starting from her early life to our present situation.
_______________SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER III_____________________
Yoko, played by Hikari Mitsushima (EXTE) takes on most of this chapter, however we change protagonists a bit for a few segments. She lived with an abusive father who attempted to rape her countless times and was always bringing whores home with him to try to provide her with a mother.
As a result to this, she has a strong hate for any men, wishing them dead and picking fights with random men in the street. She has a careless life, the only man she respects and thinks its "cool" is Kurt Cobain. She's your typical edgy teenage girl.
She has a very abstract mindset and is aware of a lot of things, overly analyzing everything to the point where she can predict all kinds of dangers in day-to-day life shown in the form of an imaginary bullet which only she can see. We're introduced to her concept of life after she takes a sudden interest in a news broadcast about a school shooter.
She works a part time job where she has to demolish abandoned houses, she uses this as a stress relief and makes fantasies of destroying her own home and family.
Things change when Kaori (Makiko Watanabe - Himizu) joins in, after leaving Yus father. She introduces Yoko to Jesus and she declares Jesus the second cool man besides Kurt Cobain. They become good friends and Kaori teaches Yoko to be free and careless, even getting a tattoo at one point to match hers. Eventually Kaori gets bored with Yokos father and they decide to return to Yus father, taking Yoko with her.
They return there however Yoko doesn't want a family. She wants Kaori to be her friend and nothing more and she's OK with her sleeping around with men. After attending church to see Yus father, Yoko is sent home where she's followed by Aya. Meanwhile we switch to Kaori who begs Yus father to take her back. After he refuses she becomes mental and aggressive, all culminating with a high speed car chase at the end of which Kaori rams Yus fathers car into a ditch and the two fall in love again.
Kaori tells Yoko they want to be a family and Yoko flips out and now we know the motif for her running off. She runs off while Aya calls the thugs to take her away and we're back in the present moment.
__________NO MORE SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER III____________________
This chapter deals with violence in both schools and family, rape, incest and pedophilia. It also deals with generation gap, teenage mentality and rebellion as well as whoring and reverse sexism. There are also nods to obsession.
The gore is maintained at a high level while the nudity goes back to only panty shots again.
Yoko is an interesting character and Hikari does a great job portraying her however I'm not that fond of her yet. She's your typical edgy teenager with not a lot of good qualities to her besides her view on the world and her intelligence. Kaori on the other hand is much more interesting as a conflicted whore who is obsessed with Yus father and is desperate to have a family.
The soundtrack consists mostly of "western" cowboy style songs as well as some hard-rock and grunge tunes to set in the teenage angst Yoko emanates all around her.
The soundwork isn't anything special this time around, no enhanced sounds.
The atmosphere is very cringe and uncomfortable due to all the teen angst in the air but it's also incredibly creepy in the Kaori scenes. I would've liked they split the two characters into two different Chapters however I think they might've been to short so I'm ok with having this "family" under one chapter.
The camerawork is a combination of wide and close ups, close ups being left to Yokos parts and wide shots for Kaori. A lot of panned shots as well which add to the dynamism and the action sequences.
CHAPTER IV
Chapter IV revolves around Yoko and Yu as they realize they'll be living under one roof as brother and sister and everything that follows that as well as Ayas plan.
_____________________SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER IV______________________
We're back in present. After they fight off the gang of thugs Yu, maintains his female persona, meets Yoko who thanks him. After the wind blows up her skirt revealing her panties, Yu gets his first erection. He keeps his cool and finishes the dare, kisses Yoko and leaves.
He tries to keep up his panty photography but can't as every time he tries to take a picture he gets a flashback of Yokos panties and has another erection. During this time, Aya keeps intentionally bumping into Yu to hit on him.
Back at home Yu is relieved to have finally found his Maria in Yoko while Yoko realizes she is a lesbian, having fallen in love for Yus female persona, Sasori.
Things don't get easier as Yu realizes Yoko will be in his class and he begins stalking her like a total creep which makes her disgusted and violent towards him. He realizes his only chance to get to her is to become Sasori again does so, meeting up in a park and giving her his phone number to call Sasori if she ever gets into trouble.
Yoko gives Kaori her pass to marry Yus father and they meet at a dinner where the kids are in shock to meet. Yoko runs to the bathroom panicked and calls Sasori. Yu excuses himself and goes to his bathroom to answer. There, under Sasoris persona, he tells Yoko she has read Yu wrong and that he only wants to be a good brother and makes her promise to treat him and his family right. BROTHER ZONED YOURSELF BRO
All this time, Aya has planted microphones all over Yus house and Yokos house as well as listening to their phonecalls, laughing hysterically at their situation.
Things calm down, Yus father wants to stop being a priest and closes down his church. Yoko moves under the same roof with Yu which makes things hard for Yu. Yoko finds it hard to be a sister to him and struggles, still having sentiments of resent towards him and his father. She puts on a fake happy sister persona to please Sasori however.
Having nothing to talk about due to Yus awkwardness, Yoko rambles every day about Sasori and how in love she is, much to Yus desperation.
Back at home the family kinda starts to fall apart. Kaori seems to go back to her whorish ways, sick that Yus father didn't get the Vatican approval yet to quit being a priest and marry her. Yoko solves the argument however.
At night she calls Sasori to profess yet again her love to her again to Yus despair and to Ayas amusement. Aya announces her friends that her plan is about to begin tomorrow.
The next day, Aya joins Yu and Yokos class, she picks a seat right between Yu and Yoko. Suddenly, a huge army of thugs hired by Aya burst the class open armed with blades looking for Sasori. Yu tries to say he's Sasori however AYA CLAIMS TO BE SASORI to Yokos surprise. They have a choreographed fight 1 vs 7 and she wins.
Back at the church, Tetsu (Yus father) has an argument with the head-priest of the area who says he can't stop being a priest and get married. Back at school, Aya is scolded by the principal but she eventually claims self defense and she's left alone. Outside the principals office she and Yoko have a romantic moment, to Yus despair as he watches from afar. He is tortured even more as Aya teaches Yoko how to french kiss and other tongue games. From then on, Aya and Yoko flirt every day while Yu is tortured by this sight.
Aya also begins to hit on Yu which sends him into a fit of rage, screaming at Yoko which came to the rescue.
Yus father begins to lose his faith in favor of his wife.
Aya continues to fuck with Yus life. She becomes Yokos tutor, coming over every day and spending most of the day there to the point where she becomes part of the family. Aya and Yoko begin a lesbian relationship, Aya making sure Yu can hear their moans as they fuck every night.
Aya begins to take so much control over the family, she almost moves there and becomes Kaori and Tetsus personal psychologist and consultant. She even steals Yus Saori costume and ruins it during sex with Yoko. Hearing this, Yu becomes enraged, strangling Aya then hitting her in the face, knocking her unconscious. He calls Yoko under Sasoris alias and asks her to meet him in the park.
There Sasori (Yu) tells Yoko that Aya was a fraud and that he's the real Sasori. He also gives up his costume and reveals his true identity to Yoko, seeing this Yoko runs away then Yu has a mental breakdown, panicked that he ruined everything. Meanwhile Aya wakes up after being knocked unconscious and laughs, saying her plan is almost over.
The following day, Aya spreads Yus panty photos to everyone in his class before the day starts as well as a videos of him taking those pictures, ruining his life.
Yu has a dream of being waken up by Yoko and everything is fine. Instead he's waken up by Aya to his shock. Back at school, everyone mocks Yu, proclaiming him King of Perverts. He begins to lash out at his classmates and the principal expels him. At home his father beats him up and his whole family turns against him, throwing him out. Aya takes the lead and blames Tetsu and Kaori for the way Yu turned out. Incriminating them instead.
Yu has a huge mental breakdown as he runs aimlessly the streets at night, screaming Yokos name. He passes out on the cold streets where his old gang members find him and care for him and they reconcile.
He moves with his gang, sometimes sneaking back to school to see Yoko from afar however neither Yoko nor Aya were there. He returns home however nobody is there and the place is abandoned. Back at church, everyone is panicked as they don't know where Tetsu is. His family has vanished.
Back at the gangs outpost, a member mentions the family vanishing is akin to what happened to every Church of 0 member and explains how they kidnap whole families to convert to their beliefs.
We then cut to Aya in her Church of 0 surrounded by members as they confess their sins, among the members we find Tetsu, Kaori and Yoko.
The Church leaders begin to mentally abuse Tetsu, revealing his darkest secrets such as being sexually obsessed with Kaori and abusing Yu. Information they had thanks to the microphones hidden around the church however they claim to be knowledge from God himself.
The rest of the review is in the comment section.... The character limit is 4000 words and my review has 5.500 sadly... See ya in the comments....
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2017.10.01 12:42 drumjedi76 Under skirt hidden cam

Scene Forty Two
Not much commotion in the kitchen this morning. No sign of the Bensons. Doug sits alone at the table, pouring over something on his laptop.
“Anything new?”
He glances over the top of his thin computer at me and nods. “Just got a reply back from an old friend of mine, Roger.”
I grab a plastic cup from our dwindling stack and fill it up with warm store brand soda: Mountain Brew. “Another investigator?”
His head lulls to one side. “Meh, sorta. Roger’s a demonologist.”
I snag a granola bar and pull up a chair next to him. “You think that’s what we’re dealing with?”
Doug: (pecking on his computer) “Without a doubt. It’s a matter of what kind. Roger will know how to handle this.”
I force the flat soda down the hatch. “So, this is a demon, like Satan.”
Doug: “The original demons, the Nine Kings of Hell. These are dark entities that existed long before anything else. Even before the Big Bang.”
“Dang.”
He takes a hit from his steaming coffee. “Exactly. When things came into creation, these entities were flung across the rapidly expanding universe.”
It’s hard to read his face. So hard and cold. “What do they want from us?”
Doug: “These things only know hatred and destruction.”
“How do we stop them?”
Doug strikes a key and shuts his laptop. “Not a damned clue, amigo. I was kinda hoping you and the professor could help me answer that.”
The ghost hunter grabs his recorder and heads for the foyer. “If you’ll excuse me, I told Benson that I’d meet up with him.”
My head bobs as I take the last swig from my cup. A meeting with Benson? Could be worth a look.
Scene Forty Three
Cautious steps. One creaky floorboard and this covert operation will be a bust. Benson’s voice grows from a mutter into more distinct words as I approach the wall nearest to their closed meeting. One foot over the other until I come to rest at the door frame. I crouch down close to the floor.
Benson: “Like I’ve already told you, I don’t know where she is right now.”
Doug: “Bullcrap, doc. We just saw her yesterday. Where is she?”
Benson’s chair groans. “I don’t know, Doug. I didn’t see her then, and I haven’t seen her in two days.”
Doug: “I know that you’re here to try and disprove me and my team.”
Benson: (defensive) “No, I’m not. I’m here to validate and evaluate Sean’s abilities.”
Doug: “Is this eval a part of his contract?”
I ease my left eye around the corner. The shock all over Benson’s face speaks volumes.
Doug: “He told me a little about your conservatory.”
Doc rights himself and presses his specs up the bridge of his nose. “We have several individuals with extraordinary abilities. When an opportunity arises to field test them, we have to take it.”
Doug eases back into his chair. “This place. It’s your experiment?”
Benson shakes his head slowly. “He led us here on his own, Doug.”
Scene Forty Four
After that encounter, I could use some fresh air. Confronting Emily’s corpse is the last thing I want to do, but I have no choice. I eye up the covered bridge ahead of me on the white gravel.
“There has to be a way out.”
Her bloated pale body lulls back and forth in the light winds at my advance. A large crow lands on her head of greasy strands. Hollow pecks. Flesh torn from the skull.
“Hey! Pssh!”
The dark bird’s head pops up and scans the area. Those polished beady eyes.
“Go on, beat it!”
It sounds to me like some atrocious woodpecker. After that phone call, no way in hell am I getting anywhere near that tree. I take a large rock in hand a chuck it toward the dangling body. Its livid caws fade off into the cloudy skies. With that out of the way, I make a line for the bridge.
“Once I’m in town, I’ll talk to the Sherriff.”
The long wooden tunnel falls over me. Its odor of ancient cedar and oak suffocates any other living thing nearby. Echoing footfalls on the planks. Shimmering ripples through the knotted cracks. No nails or bolts that I can see.
“What’s keepin’ this old thing together?”
A sudden scurrying in the bulrushes below freezes me where I stand.
Jesus. Another one like that, and my heart will burst.
A broken brown form scurries up the far bank of the creek and speeds off into the underbrush. Just a damned rabbit. Chill. One cleansing breath and then onward across the bridge. Is it getting longer? Nearing the end. A bird of some sort drifts in, breaking the light along the rafters. The first cheerful thing I’ve seen in days.
“Finally.”
I’ve never been so happy to see white gravel in my life. I jog out the other side back into the dull daylight.
“No.” The feasting crow to my side and the mansion dead ahead. “No, no, no.”
I turn and run through the covered bridge again. Once more past the cheerful chirps of the bird and back in front of the mansion on the other side.
“Whuh?”
I survey the front lawn. Nothing different. I kneel down and rest a hand on the gravel. Solid. Real. Standing, I turn and sprint one final time into the bridge. Has that little chirp morphed into an alto mockery?
“Come on. Work.”
My swift strides lead me out the other end and racing toward the McAllister home. My shoes skid to a stop. Ev was right. No use.
Back inside, I cross paths with Patty. “Hey, stranger. Where have ya been?”
I stop a few stairs up. “Just out in the front lawn getting some fresh air.”
She takes slow strides up to come even with me. “Feeling refreshed?”
I can feel her eyes undressing me. Something behind them that isn’t right. “Sure, I guess. Are you all right?”
Her bare feet come to rest on either side of mine. “Never better.”
Her warm breath pulses on my neck. She takes my right hand in her own.
Patty: “To be sixteen again. So much -- vigor.”
She guides my hand under her hemline. Clammy flesh, then engulfed in pulsing warmth. She puts her head on my shoulder and pants as her body bucks against my hand.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Nice and slow for momma.”
Frozen in place. My thoughts swirl into a vortex of confusion. Her hand unzips my fly and frees me. Her pleasure’s overriding all common sense.
Patty: “Mmm… Ready for me?”
She dismounts my hand and turns away from me. In a blur, her skirt is over her back and she’s poking me between her pale cheeks. Patty moans as she bucks against my body.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Fuck momma good.”
I’ve gotta snap out of it. The softness of her body engulfs me over and over. Too good to resist.
Patty: “Just like that. (in a deep sinister tone) Fuck me. Fuck me, Sean!”
“Oh, God.” I pull out and stammer up the stairs, hoping to reach the solace of my bedroom. Her demonic laughter bounces off the marble and wood as I round the top of the steps and make a mad dash behind my door.
I turn on the cold water with an unsteady hand. Within a few breaths, I’m under the bone chilling deluge.
Scene Forty Five
I sneak back downstairs into the breakfast room. No way, do I want to have another run-in with Patty. Doug and Dylan work feverishly on their computers. They have to know.
“Hey, amigo,” Dylan says without looking up from his work.
“Hi.” I plop down next to Doug and make sure we’re still alone. “I’ve got something I need to tell you guys, but it can’t leave us.”
Dougie clacks away on his laptop. “Okay. Shoot.”
“I tried to leave a little earlier, but I couldn’t.”
Dylan: “I understand. It’s a long walk into town on foot.”
“No.” Hold back the frustration. “I mean, I crossed the covered bridge several times and I wound up standing in front of the mansion again.”
Doug slips his cheap pen behind an ear. “Are you sure that you crossed the entire bridge?”
“Yes!” I’m not an infant, Dougie.
He and Dylan exchange a look. One of concern, but I can’t tell if it’s for our helpless situation or for me.
Deep breath. “There’s more.”
They both push their computers away on the table and give me their undivided attention.
Doug: “Go on.”
How to put this. “It’s Patty.”
Dylan folds his big arms over the top of his belly.
“I – She --”
Dylan: “You what?”
“She forced me to do it with her.”
Both chests suck in an audible lungful of the stagnant mansion’s air.
“In the middle of it, her voice became something else. It wasn’t hers. She was possessed or something.”
Dylan’s jaw swings open.
Doug: “That’s a huge accusation, Sean. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Doug leans in closer on the table. “I mean beyond a reasonable doubt that it all happened like that?”
I slide my chair across the floor and lean in nearly nose to nose with him. “I’m positive. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to wipe that one away.”
Dylan jabs a finger at his screen. “Goes to confirm my theory.”
“What theory?”
Doug spins his computer around to face me. “We just discovered this today. Take a look.”
With a tap of the spacebar, the timecode in the lower right corner rolls. The hidden camera overlooks the wide fountain at the base of the main staircases. Its trickling waters pass over the sculpted marble in ribbons of white through the night vision’s lens.
“It’s the fountain. Big deal.”
Dylan: “Push it along to around three A.M.”
Doug hits a button, sending the footage into high speed. He slows it back down as a youthful female figure stumbles into the scene stage right. Thanks, Drama Club.
“Donna?”
Dougie bobs his head.
Dylan: “Keep your eye on her.”
She waddles up to the lip of the fountain. Long strips of black fabric sway on the side of both legs.
Her hair’s all stringy and dingy. Several asymmetric splotches soil her gray sweatshirt “She looks strung out.”
Not a peep from them. Dylan nods his head down in the direction of the screen. As I follow the action again, Donna’s head slowly turns to the left.
“She smells something.”
Doug: “That, she does.”
Her button nose searches. Then she backpedals toward the concealed camera, still sniffing the foyer for the source of the intrusion.
“What’s she--?”
Donna’s head swivels completely backward on its neck. Her pale face turns up toward the lens as her body stumbles closer still.
“Shit.”
Ancient folds of sorrow and torment on one cheek. The flesh of its twin has been carved out at some recent point in time. Her resentful gaze falls on the camera. Narrowing stare. The slits of her eyes glow in the footage. Their radiance intensifies as she steps closer. The screen flashes twice and blinks out of existence.
Doug: “That’s it. The recording ends there.”
“Her and Patty both?”
The investigator’s head shakes. “It’s the same entity.”
The pieces of the puzzle congeal in my mind. “The demon.”
Dougie: “Yup.”
Dylan: “Speaking of which, did you ever hear back from Roger?”
Doug nods. “A couple of times, yeah. He’s in route.” (Closes laptop) “We should try and find her.”
Dylan leans forward in his seat and props his head on his hands. “Bad idea, boss. It’s not Donna anymore. We should wait for the pro to show up.”
Doug: “I don’t think that we’ve got the time. It’s spreading, gaining power.”
Dylan: “But--”
Doug: “We need to strike now while it’s still weak.”
Scene Forty Six
Doug and Dylan waste no time in getting this manhunt underway. I take long strides to keep their pace to the back of the van. Doug unlocks the doors and pops them open. He climbs inside and shuffles through the stacks of gear, boxes, and equipment cases.
Doug: “It’s here. I know I packed it.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Doug: “Aha!”
He maneuvers his way back to the tailgate and sets the little rosewood box in front of me. Doug spins its latch to face him and pries the lid open. One crucifix goes to Dylan. He pockets a clear bottle of water in the left inside pocket of his jacket and a shimmering silver dagger into the right one.
“This oughta do it,” he says, holding a wooden cross in front of me.
Dylan: “I still say this is a bad idea.”
Doug marches off toward the front doors, a holy warrior, an archangel on a rampage. “This thing killed Emily. Now, it’s gotten to Patty and Donna. It’s a goddamned disease, and we need to end it now.”
He and Dylan storm off back into the house. I stop on the top step. An unnatural stillness has fallen over the property. Not so much as a breeze. Their footfalls echo on the first few steps inside. The massive front door slams behind me as I bound up the flight in pursuit.
We round the corner, striding past the music room on our way to the highest point in the mansion. Doug turns before the attic door, his face contorted in fear.
Doug: “This sort of thing will be dangerous.”
Dylan and I look at each other. The light jaunt up the stairs has the big fella in a cold sweat already.
Doug’s hands wring the crucifix. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen once we go up there. What I do know is that we can’t let it weaken our resolve.”
Dylan: (gasping) Wuh-Once it finds your weakness, it’ll (heaves) it’ll burrow in like a worm and take over.”
Doug’s brown stare falls on me. “Resolve. Ready?”
I must have nodded. I don’t recall doing it. The attic door groans open. A waft of stale dusty air invades our space. We advance with cautious steps upward.
Dylan’s bulbous nose jumps from left to right. “You hear that?”
Doug nods at the front of our line. “Something’s breathing.”
Dylan: “Something big.”
We flank our leader on either side at the top. The source of the long breaths becomes clear.
“The wall.”
Its planks and plaster bulge and then slowly deflate. The small clear bottle emerges from Doug’s inner pocket in an unsteady hand. He holds a thumb over its opening and flings some of the water out into the stale dark.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
His shoes clop across the floorboards. More drops splatter to the dust. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
Somewhere in the shadows, the attic floor sizzles.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
The wall bulges out farther as its cycles grow faster. Dylan falls in behind his boss, small cross extended at eye level. I inch behind them, unarmed and uncertain. Doug stops in front of the hidden door to the sanctuary. He tilts the holy water until a thin line emerges. A cross is drawn before the heart of this curse.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
A low growl from just beyond the door. The grown-ups share in a mental conversation with their expressions:
Dougie: Whatawedo?
Dylan: Shit if I know.
Doug pulls the plank on the wall and the secret door pops open. Black. Pitch black. Another growl. This one more pissed than the last.
The cross in Dylan’s hand is in its own mini-quake. “I – I don’t know, Doug.”
Doug swaps the holy water out for the silver blade and crucifix. With the cross in his left hand and the weapon in his right, he steps over the threshold into darkness.
Doug: “In the name of--”
Enraged howls. Blazing wind. Its force hurls me onto my ass a few paces from the door. Something dark – a shadow moving over top of a shadow within the sanctuary.
“Doug, Dylan!”
No use. The force of the wind and the howls drown me out. Doug wails like an abused toddler. When it spins into view, I understand. His large crucifix melts over his hand and boils on its surface.
Doug: “Get it off!”
Both men stammer from the door. It slams shut, cutting off the hellish blast of wind. I crawl across the attic floor to my injured pal.
“Doug. Come on.” I take him by an elbow and head for the exit. “We’re outa here.”
Dylan’s heavy feet advance a few paces and slide silent.
“Dylan?” No time to glance over my shoulder. “You all right back there?”
He grunts and lets out a hue belch. “Mmmph. Just heartburn. I’m coming.”
Doug and I turn at the top of the stairs and wait for Dylan to catch up. The big man stiffens a few yards from me. Fear all over him.
“Dylan?”
Doug: “Come on, man. Let’s get you back down to the kitchen.”
The middle aged man shrieks. Something’s causing him an immense amount of pain. No signs of anything -- biting, tearing, nothing.
A couple of hitched breaths, then more wailing.
Those eyes. Once big, blue, and full of happiness. Now, melting from their sockets down his quivering jowls. Small lapping flames protrude from these and singe his brows. Once more, Dylan’s torment releases. Another orange flame ejects from his maw. I can’t look away. His vibrating tongue shrinks and curls into an ashen black mass.
Doug: “No!”
Dylan’s meaty hands claw at the pink bubbles oozing from his ears. Falling tears evaporate on his boiling skin. In his last throes, he falls to his knees in silence. The engulfed corpse of our friend falls forward to the floor and melts away.
Scene Forty Seven
Doug and I make it to the foyer where Jake’s waiting.
Doug: “He’s gone. Dylan’s dead.”
Jake’s too excited to stand in one place. “I know. I saw it all on his body cam.” His palms massage his temples. “I’ve gotta get out, Doug.”
Jake’s childhood buddy grabs him by the shoulders. “We can’t. Not until we end this.”
“We can’t leave even if we wanted to.”
Jake leans around Doug wearing a mask of utter confusion.
Doug: “Listen to him. (shakes Jake) Listen to me! Two people are dead and another’s MIA.”
Jake: “I-I’m done, man.”
He shoves Doug’s grip free and storms off outside into the fading daylight. We’re falling apart at the seams. Doug and I tag along behind as he sprints for the covered bridge. Emily’s bloated pale form swims in a black cloud of swarming insects as we pass the oak.
Doug: “Jake. Come on.”
The rotund camera op halts at the lip of the wooden planks. “This is bullshit – complete mind fuck.”
Only a few paces away. Then, he’s off into the hollow throat of the structure.
Jake: (echoing from inside the bridge) Gotta be a way out (panting) … way outa here.”
I push Doug to the far side of our opening. “You’re gonna want to stand clear.”
Too late. Jake emerges from our side of the bridge and stumbles over Doug’s foot. He skids along the white gravel, kicking up a small dust cloud. I take Jake’s left arm and Doug the right. Once upright, he digs a few embedded pebbles from the meat of his hands.
“Fuck this place,” Jake hisses, turning for another attempt.
“Save it.” It takes both of us to hold the big man back. “I’ve already been there.”
Doug’s head remains fixed on the side yard. “We’ve got a bigger issue.”
Jake’s struggling ceases. My eyes follow theirs to the tree in the yard. It’s gone.
Jake: “Emily.”
Doug shuffles closer to the oak. “It was there when we came out.” His head turns back to me. “Wasn’t it?”
I nod. Of course, it was. “I know her body was there.”
Doug: “It’s screwin’ with--”
Her pale bloated hand shoves Doug back in the grass. His words rattle in his chattering jaws. Those eyes. Once they shone with life and beauty. Now, splintered red and decayed. Her sallow face hovers over Doug’s, her nose searching. Low snarls like those of a predator lying in wait. Flies and gnats buzz around the gray masses that cling to her extremities.
Jake: (whispers) “What now?”
Emily drags her gimp legs over to Jake and conducts the same silent interrogation. Right beside me. The stench reminds me of the times that I helped my uncle Paul gut his deer during hunting season. Living metallic blood interlaced with rapid decomposition. Rising bile forced down once more. She snaps her gangly strands of blonde hair in my direction. Her limp leg hisses through the grass. Nostrils pulse just over my right cheek. Her skin, cold, coarse. Her sniffs resemble those of a wild animal.
Her bloodshot gaze freezes before mine. Nothing living behind them, but still another pries into my innermost secrets. Black tongue upon my left cheek. Like damp sandpaper. “Emily. Please.”
She backs away from our line, giggling. The subtle chuckle erupts into maniacal laughter, deep and sinister. Emily’s head lurches back. Her arms lift to either side.
An explosion.
One instant, she’s there. The next, a cloud of yellow puss and gray flesh.
Part 1: https://redd.it/71mrgt Part 2: https://redd.it/71vfmp Part 3: https://redd.it/7229tx Part 4: https://redd.it/7298f9 Part 5: https://redd.it/72oy2t Part 6: https://redd.it/72zecl Part 7: https://redd.it/73bxaa
submitted by drumjedi76 to creepypasta [link] [comments]


2017.09.30 00:30 drumjedi76 Under skirt hidden cam

Scene Forty Two
Not much commotion in the kitchen this morning. No sign of the Bensons. Doug sits alone at the table, pouring over something on his laptop.
“Anything new?”
He glances over the top of his thin computer at me and nods. “Just got a reply back from an old friend of mine, Roger.”
I grab a plastic cup from our dwindling stack and fill it up with warm store brand soda: Mountain Brew. “Another investigator?”
His head lulls to one side. “Meh, sorta. Roger’s a demonologist.”
I snag a granola bar and pull up a chair next to him. “You think that’s what we’re dealing with?”
Doug: (pecking on his computer) “Without a doubt. It’s a matter of what kind. Roger will know how to handle this.”
I force the flat soda down the hatch. “So, this is a demon, like Satan.”
Doug: “The original demons, the Nine Kings of Hell. These are dark entities that existed long before anything else. Even before the Big Bang.”
“Dang.”
He takes a hit from his steaming coffee. “Exactly. When things came into creation, these entities were flung across the rapidly expanding universe.”
It’s hard to read his face. So hard and cold. “What do they want from us?”
Doug: “These things only know hatred and destruction.”
“How do we stop them?”
Doug strikes a key and shuts his laptop. “Not a damned clue, amigo. I was kinda hoping you and the professor could help me answer that.”
The ghost hunter grabs his recorder and heads for the foyer. “If you’ll excuse me, I told Benson that I’d meet up with him.”
My head bobs as I take the last swig from my cup. A meeting with Benson? Could be worth a look.
Scene Forty Three
Cautious steps. One creaky floorboard and this covert operation will be a bust. Benson’s voice grows from a mutter into more distinct words as I approach the wall nearest to their closed meeting. One foot over the other until I come to rest at the door frame. I crouch down close to the floor.
Benson: “Like I’ve already told you, I don’t know where she is right now.”
Doug: “Bullcrap, doc. We just saw her yesterday. Where is she?”
Benson’s chair groans. “I don’t know, Doug. I didn’t see her then, and I haven’t seen her in two days.”
Doug: “I know that you’re here to try and disprove me and my team.”
Benson: (defensive) “No, I’m not. I’m here to validate and evaluate Sean’s abilities.”
Doug: “Is this eval a part of his contract?”
I ease my left eye around the corner. The shock all over Benson’s face speaks volumes.
Doug: “He told me a little about your conservatory.”
Doc rights himself and presses his specs up the bridge of his nose. “We have several individuals with extraordinary abilities. When an opportunity arises to field test them, we have to take it.”
Doug eases back into his chair. “This place. It’s your experiment?”
Benson shakes his head slowly. “He led us here on his own, Doug.”
Scene Forty Four
After that encounter, I could use some fresh air. Confronting Emily’s corpse is the last thing I want to do, but I have no choice. I eye up the covered bridge ahead of me on the white gravel.
“There has to be a way out.”
Her bloated pale body lulls back and forth in the light winds at my advance. A large crow lands on her head of greasy strands. Hollow pecks. Flesh torn from the skull.
“Hey! Pssh!”
The dark bird’s head pops up and scans the area. Those polished beady eyes.
“Go on, beat it!”
It sounds to me like some atrocious woodpecker. After that phone call, no way in hell am I getting anywhere near that tree. I take a large rock in hand a chuck it toward the dangling body. Its livid caws fade off into the cloudy skies. With that out of the way, I make a line for the bridge.
“Once I’m in town, I’ll talk to the Sherriff.”
The long wooden tunnel falls over me. Its odor of ancient cedar and oak suffocates any other living thing nearby. Echoing footfalls on the planks. Shimmering ripples through the knotted cracks. No nails or bolts that I can see.
“What’s keepin’ this old thing together?”
A sudden scurrying in the bulrushes below freezes me where I stand.
Jesus. Another one like that, and my heart will burst.
A broken brown form scurries up the far bank of the creek and speeds off into the underbrush. Just a damned rabbit. Chill. One cleansing breath and then onward across the bridge. Is it getting longer? Nearing the end. A bird of some sort drifts in, breaking the light along the rafters. The first cheerful thing I’ve seen in days.
“Finally.”
I’ve never been so happy to see white gravel in my life. I jog out the other side back into the dull daylight.
“No.” The feasting crow to my side and the mansion dead ahead. “No, no, no.”
I turn and run through the covered bridge again. Once more past the cheerful chirps of the bird and back in front of the mansion on the other side.
“Whuh?”
I survey the front lawn. Nothing different. I kneel down and rest a hand on the gravel. Solid. Real. Standing, I turn and sprint one final time into the bridge. Has that little chirp morphed into an alto mockery?
“Come on. Work.”
My swift strides lead me out the other end and racing toward the McAllister home. My shoes skid to a stop. Ev was right. No use.
Back inside, I cross paths with Patty. “Hey, stranger. Where have ya been?”
I stop a few stairs up. “Just out in the front lawn getting some fresh air.”
She takes slow strides up to come even with me. “Feeling refreshed?”
I can feel her eyes undressing me. Something behind them that isn’t right. “Sure, I guess. Are you all right?”
Her bare feet come to rest on either side of mine. “Never better.”
Her warm breath pulses on my neck. She takes my right hand in her own.
Patty: “To be sixteen again. So much -- vigor.”
She guides my hand under her hemline. Clammy flesh, then engulfed in pulsing warmth. She puts her head on my shoulder and pants as her body bucks against my hand.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Nice and slow for momma.”
Frozen in place. My thoughts swirl into a vortex of confusion. Her hand unzips my fly and frees me. Her pleasure’s overriding all common sense.
Patty: “Mmm… Ready for me?”
She dismounts my hand and turns away from me. In a blur, her skirt is over her back and she’s poking me between her pale cheeks. Patty moans as she bucks against my body.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Fuck momma good.”
I’ve gotta snap out of it. The softness of her body engulfs me over and over. Too good to resist.
Patty: “Just like that. (in a deep sinister tone) Fuck me. Fuck me, Sean!”
“Oh, God.” I pull out and stammer up the stairs, hoping to reach the solace of my bedroom. Her demonic laughter bounces off the marble and wood as I round the top of the steps and make a mad dash behind my door.
I turn on the cold water with an unsteady hand. Within a few breaths, I’m under the bone chilling deluge.
Scene Forty Five
I sneak back downstairs into the breakfast room. No way, do I want to have another run-in with Patty. Doug and Dylan work feverishly on their computers. They have to know.
“Hey, amigo,” Dylan says without looking up from his work.
“Hi.” I plop down next to Doug and make sure we’re still alone. “I’ve got something I need to tell you guys, but it can’t leave us.”
Dougie clacks away on his laptop. “Okay. Shoot.”
“I tried to leave a little earlier, but I couldn’t.”
Dylan: “I understand. It’s a long walk into town on foot.”
“No.” Hold back the frustration. “I mean, I crossed the covered bridge several times and I wound up standing in front of the mansion again.”
Doug slips his cheap pen behind an ear. “Are you sure that you crossed the entire bridge?”
“Yes!” I’m not an infant, Dougie.
He and Dylan exchange a look. One of concern, but I can’t tell if it’s for our helpless situation or for me.
Deep breath. “There’s more.”
They both push their computers away on the table and give me their undivided attention.
Doug: “Go on.”
How to put this. “It’s Patty.”
Dylan folds his big arms over the top of his belly.
“I – She --”
Dylan: “You what?”
“She forced me to do it with her.”
Both chests suck in an audible lungful of the stagnant mansion’s air.
“In the middle of it, her voice became something else. It wasn’t hers. She was possessed or something.”
Dylan’s jaw swings open.
Doug: “That’s a huge accusation, Sean. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Doug leans in closer on the table. “I mean beyond a reasonable doubt that it all happened like that?”
I slide my chair across the floor and lean in nearly nose to nose with him. “I’m positive. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to wipe that one away.”
Dylan jabs a finger at his screen. “Goes to confirm my theory.”
“What theory?”
Doug spins his computer around to face me. “We just discovered this today. Take a look.”
With a tap of the spacebar, the timecode in the lower right corner rolls. The hidden camera overlooks the wide fountain at the base of the main staircases. Its trickling waters pass over the sculpted marble in ribbons of white through the night vision’s lens.
“It’s the fountain. Big deal.”
Dylan: “Push it along to around three A.M.”
Doug hits a button, sending the footage into high speed. He slows it back down as a youthful female figure stumbles into the scene stage right. Thanks, Drama Club.
“Donna?”
Dougie bobs his head.
Dylan: “Keep your eye on her.”
She waddles up to the lip of the fountain. Long strips of black fabric sway on the side of both legs.
Her hair’s all stringy and dingy. Several asymmetric splotches soil her gray sweatshirt “She looks strung out.”
Not a peep from them. Dylan nods his head down in the direction of the screen. As I follow the action again, Donna’s head slowly turns to the left.
“She smells something.”
Doug: “That, she does.”
Her button nose searches. Then she backpedals toward the concealed camera, still sniffing the foyer for the source of the intrusion.
“What’s she--?”
Donna’s head swivels completely backward on its neck. Her pale face turns up toward the lens as her body stumbles closer still.
“Shit.”
Ancient folds of sorrow and torment on one cheek. The flesh of its twin has been carved out at some recent point in time. Her resentful gaze falls on the camera. Narrowing stare. The slits of her eyes glow in the footage. Their radiance intensifies as she steps closer. The screen flashes twice and blinks out of existence.
Doug: “That’s it. The recording ends there.”
“Her and Patty both?”
The investigator’s head shakes. “It’s the same entity.”
The pieces of the puzzle congeal in my mind. “The demon.”
Dougie: “Yup.”
Dylan: “Speaking of which, did you ever hear back from Roger?”
Doug nods. “A couple of times, yeah. He’s in route.” (Closes laptop) “We should try and find her.”
Dylan leans forward in his seat and props his head on his hands. “Bad idea, boss. It’s not Donna anymore. We should wait for the pro to show up.”
Doug: “I don’t think that we’ve got the time. It’s spreading, gaining power.”
Dylan: “But--”
Doug: “We need to strike now while it’s still weak.”
Scene Forty Six
Doug and Dylan waste no time in getting this manhunt underway. I take long strides to keep their pace to the back of the van. Doug unlocks the doors and pops them open. He climbs inside and shuffles through the stacks of gear, boxes, and equipment cases.
Doug: “It’s here. I know I packed it.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Doug: “Aha!”
He maneuvers his way back to the tailgate and sets the little rosewood box in front of me. Doug spins its latch to face him and pries the lid open. One crucifix goes to Dylan. He pockets a clear bottle of water in the left inside pocket of his jacket and a shimmering silver dagger into the right one.
“This oughta do it,” he says, holding a wooden cross in front of me.
Dylan: “I still say this is a bad idea.”
Doug marches off toward the front doors, a holy warrior, an archangel on a rampage. “This thing killed Emily. Now, it’s gotten to Patty and Donna. It’s a goddamned disease, and we need to end it now.”
He and Dylan storm off back into the house. I stop on the top step. An unnatural stillness has fallen over the property. Not so much as a breeze. Their footfalls echo on the first few steps inside. The massive front door slams behind me as I bound up the flight in pursuit.
We round the corner, striding past the music room on our way to the highest point in the mansion. Doug turns before the attic door, his face contorted in fear.
Doug: “This sort of thing will be dangerous.”
Dylan and I look at each other. The light jaunt up the stairs has the big fella in a cold sweat already.
Doug’s hands wring the crucifix. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen once we go up there. What I do know is that we can’t let it weaken our resolve.”
Dylan: (gasping) Wuh-Once it finds your weakness, it’ll (heaves) it’ll burrow in like a worm and take over.”
Doug’s brown stare falls on me. “Resolve. Ready?”
I must have nodded. I don’t recall doing it. The attic door groans open. A waft of stale dusty air invades our space. We advance with cautious steps upward.
Dylan’s bulbous nose jumps from left to right. “You hear that?”
Doug nods at the front of our line. “Something’s breathing.”
Dylan: “Something big.”
We flank our leader on either side at the top. The source of the long breaths becomes clear.
“The wall.”
Its planks and plaster bulge and then slowly deflate. The small clear bottle emerges from Doug’s inner pocket in an unsteady hand. He holds a thumb over its opening and flings some of the water out into the stale dark.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
His shoes clop across the floorboards. More drops splatter to the dust. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
Somewhere in the shadows, the attic floor sizzles.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
The wall bulges out farther as its cycles grow faster. Dylan falls in behind his boss, small cross extended at eye level. I inch behind them, unarmed and uncertain. Doug stops in front of the hidden door to the sanctuary. He tilts the holy water until a thin line emerges. A cross is drawn before the heart of this curse.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
A low growl from just beyond the door. The grown-ups share in a mental conversation with their expressions:
Dougie: Whatawedo?
Dylan: Shit if I know.
Doug pulls the plank on the wall and the secret door pops open. Black. Pitch black. Another growl. This one more pissed than the last.
The cross in Dylan’s hand is in its own mini-quake. “I – I don’t know, Doug.”
Doug swaps the holy water out for the silver blade and crucifix. With the cross in his left hand and the weapon in his right, he steps over the threshold into darkness.
Doug: “In the name of--”
Enraged howls. Blazing wind. Its force hurls me onto my ass a few paces from the door. Something dark – a shadow moving over top of a shadow within the sanctuary.
“Doug, Dylan!”
No use. The force of the wind and the howls drown me out. Doug wails like an abused toddler. When it spins into view, I understand. His large crucifix melts over his hand and boils on its surface.
Doug: “Get it off!”
Both men stammer from the door. It slams shut, cutting off the hellish blast of wind. I crawl across the attic floor to my injured pal.
“Doug. Come on.” I take him by an elbow and head for the exit. “We’re outa here.”
Dylan’s heavy feet advance a few paces and slide silent.
“Dylan?” No time to glance over my shoulder. “You all right back there?”
He grunts and lets out a hue belch. “Mmmph. Just heartburn. I’m coming.”
Doug and I turn at the top of the stairs and wait for Dylan to catch up. The big man stiffens a few yards from me. Fear all over him.
“Dylan?”
Doug: “Come on, man. Let’s get you back down to the kitchen.”
The middle aged man shrieks. Something’s causing him an immense amount of pain. No signs of anything -- biting, tearing, nothing.
A couple of hitched breaths, then more wailing.
Those eyes. Once big, blue, and full of happiness. Now, melting from their sockets down his quivering jowls. Small lapping flames protrude from these and singe his brows. Once more, Dylan’s torment releases. Another orange flame ejects from his maw. I can’t look away. His vibrating tongue shrinks and curls into an ashen black mass.
Doug: “No!”
Dylan’s meaty hands claw at the pink bubbles oozing from his ears. Falling tears evaporate on his boiling skin. In his last throes, he falls to his knees in silence. The engulfed corpse of our friend falls forward to the floor and melts away.
Scene Forty Seven
Doug and I make it to the foyer where Jake’s waiting.
Doug: “He’s gone. Dylan’s dead.”
Jake’s too excited to stand in one place. “I know. I saw it all on his body cam.” His palms massage his temples. “I’ve gotta get out, Doug.”
Jake’s childhood buddy grabs him by the shoulders. “We can’t. Not until we end this.”
“We can’t leave even if we wanted to.”
Jake leans around Doug wearing a mask of utter confusion.
Doug: “Listen to him. (shakes Jake) Listen to me! Two people are dead and another’s MIA.”
Jake: “I-I’m done, man.”
He shoves Doug’s grip free and storms off outside into the fading daylight. We’re falling apart at the seams. Doug and I tag along behind as he sprints for the covered bridge. Emily’s bloated pale form swims in a black cloud of swarming insects as we pass the oak.
Doug: “Jake. Come on.”
The rotund camera op halts at the lip of the wooden planks. “This is bullshit – complete mind fuck.”
Only a few paces away. Then, he’s off into the hollow throat of the structure.
Jake: (echoing from inside the bridge) Gotta be a way out (panting) … way outa here.”
I push Doug to the far side of our opening. “You’re gonna want to stand clear.”
Too late. Jake emerges from our side of the bridge and stumbles over Doug’s foot. He skids along the white gravel, kicking up a small dust cloud. I take Jake’s left arm and Doug the right. Once upright, he digs a few embedded pebbles from the meat of his hands.
“Fuck this place,” Jake hisses, turning for another attempt.
“Save it.” It takes both of us to hold the big man back. “I’ve already been there.”
Doug’s head remains fixed on the side yard. “We’ve got a bigger issue.”
Jake’s struggling ceases. My eyes follow theirs to the tree in the yard. It’s gone.
Jake: “Emily.”
Doug shuffles closer to the oak. “It was there when we came out.” His head turns back to me. “Wasn’t it?”
I nod. Of course, it was. “I know her body was there.”
Doug: “It’s screwin’ with--”
Her pale bloated hand shoves Doug back in the grass. His words rattle in his chattering jaws. Those eyes. Once they shone with life and beauty. Now, splintered red and decayed. Her sallow face hovers over Doug’s, her nose searching. Low snarls like those of a predator lying in wait. Flies and gnats buzz around the gray masses that cling to her extremities.
Jake: (whispers) “What now?”
Emily drags her gimp legs over to Jake and conducts the same silent interrogation. Right beside me. The stench reminds me of the times that I helped my uncle Paul gut his deer during hunting season. Living metallic blood interlaced with rapid decomposition. Rising bile forced down once more. She snaps her gangly strands of blonde hair in my direction. Her limp leg hisses through the grass. Nostrils pulse just over my right cheek. Her skin, cold, coarse. Her sniffs resemble those of a wild animal.
Her bloodshot gaze freezes before mine. Nothing living behind them, but still another pries into my innermost secrets. Black tongue upon my left cheek. Like damp sandpaper. “Emily. Please.”
She backs away from our line, giggling. The subtle chuckle erupts into maniacal laughter, deep and sinister. Emily’s head lurches back. Her arms lift to either side.
An explosion.
One instant, she’s there. The next, a cloud of yellow puss and gray flesh.
Restless part 1: https://redd.it/71epwq part 2: https://redd.it/71mwk2 Part 3: https://redd.it/71vdsu Part 4: https://redd.it/7228xp Part 5: https://redd.it/72984i Part 6: https://redd.it/72oxp Part 7: https://redd.it/72zdwl
submitted by drumjedi76 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]


2017.09.16 13:58 drumjedi76 Hidden cam under skirt

Scene Forty Two
Not much commotion in the kitchen this morning. No sign of the Bensons. Doug sits alone at the table, pouring over something on his laptop.
“Anything new?”
He glances over the top of his thin computer at me and nods. “Just got a reply back from an old friend of mine, Roger.”
I grab a plastic cup from our dwindling stack and fill it up with warm store brand soda: Mountain Brew. “Another investigator?”
His head lulls to one side. “Meh, sorta. Roger’s a demonologist.”
I snag a granola bar and pull up a chair next to him. “You think that’s what we’re dealing with?”
Doug: (pecking on his computer) “Without a doubt. It’s a matter of what kind. Roger will know how to handle this.”
I force the flat soda down the hatch. “So, this is a demon, like Satan.”
Doug: “The original demons, the Nine Kings of Hell. These are dark entities that existed long before anything else. Even before the Big Bang.”
“Dang.”
He takes a hit from his steaming coffee. “Exactly. When things came into creation, these entities were flung across the rapidly expanding universe.”
It’s hard to read his face. So hard and cold. “What do they want from us?”
Doug: “These things only know hatred and destruction.”
“How do we stop them?”
Doug strikes a key and shuts his laptop. “Not a damned clue, amigo. I was kinda hoping you and the professor could help me answer that.”
The ghost hunter grabs his recorder and heads for the foyer. “If you’ll excuse me, I told Benson that I’d meet up with him.”
My head bobs as I take the last swig from my cup. A meeting with Benson? Could be worth a look.
Scene Forty Three
Cautious steps. One creaky floorboard and this covert operation will be a bust. Benson’s voice grows from a mutter into more distinct words as I approach the wall nearest to their closed meeting. One foot over the other until I come to rest at the door frame. I crouch down close to the floor.
Benson: “Like I’ve already told you, I don’t know where she is right now.”
Doug: “Bullcrap, doc. We just saw her yesterday. Where is she?”
Benson’s chair groans. “I don’t know, Doug. I didn’t see her then, and I haven’t seen her in two days.”
Doug: “I know that you’re here to try and disprove me and my team.”
Benson: (defensive) “No, I’m not. I’m here to validate and evaluate Sean’s abilities.”
Doug: “Is this eval a part of his contract?”
I ease my left eye around the corner. The shock all over Benson’s face speaks volumes.
Doug: “He told me a little about your conservatory.”
Doc rights himself and presses his specs up the bridge of his nose. “We have several individuals with extraordinary abilities. When an opportunity arises to field test them, we have to take it.”
Doug eases back into his chair. “This place. It’s your experiment?”
Benson shakes his head slowly. “He led us here on his own, Doug.”
Scene Forty Four
After that encounter, I could use some fresh air. Confronting Emily’s corpse is the last thing I want to do, but I have no choice. I eye up the covered bridge ahead of me on the white gravel.
“There has to be a way out.”
Her bloated pale body lulls back and forth in the light winds at my advance. A large crow lands on her head of greasy strands. Hollow pecks. Flesh torn from the skull.
“Hey! Pssh!”
The dark bird’s head pops up and scans the area. Those polished beady eyes.
“Go on, beat it!”
It sounds to me like some atrocious woodpecker. After that phone call, no way in hell am I getting anywhere near that tree. I take a large rock in hand a chuck it toward the dangling body. Its livid caws fade off into the cloudy skies. With that out of the way, I make a line for the bridge.
“Once I’m in town, I’ll talk to the Sherriff.”
The long wooden tunnel falls over me. Its odor of ancient cedar and oak suffocates any other living thing nearby. Echoing footfalls on the planks. Shimmering ripples through the knotted cracks. No nails or bolts that I can see.
“What’s keepin’ this old thing together?”
A sudden scurrying in the bulrushes below freezes me where I stand.
Jesus. Another one like that, and my heart will burst.
A broken brown form scurries up the far bank of the creek and speeds off into the underbrush. Just a damned rabbit. Chill. One cleansing breath and then onward across the bridge. Is it getting longer? Nearing the end. A bird of some sort drifts in, breaking the light along the rafters. The first cheerful thing I’ve seen in days.
“Finally.”
I’ve never been so happy to see white gravel in my life. I jog out the other side back into the dull daylight.
“No.” The feasting crow to my side and the mansion dead ahead. “No, no, no.”
I turn and run through the covered bridge again. Once more past the cheerful chirps of the bird and back in front of the mansion on the other side.
“Whuh?”
I survey the front lawn. Nothing different. I kneel down and rest a hand on the gravel. Solid. Real. Standing, I turn and sprint one final time into the bridge. Has that little chirp morphed into an alto mockery?
“Come on. Work.”
My swift strides lead me out the other end and racing toward the McAllister home. My shoes skid to a stop. Ev was right. No use.
Back inside, I cross paths with Patty. “Hey, stranger. Where have ya been?”
I stop a few stairs up. “Just out in the front lawn getting some fresh air.”
She takes slow strides up to come even with me. “Feeling refreshed?”
I can feel her eyes undressing me. Something behind them that isn’t right. “Sure, I guess. Are you all right?”
Her bare feet come to rest on either side of mine. “Never better.”
Her warm breath pulses on my neck. She takes my right hand in her own.
Patty: “To be sixteen again. So much -- vigor.”
She guides my hand under her hemline. Clammy flesh, then engulfed in pulsing warmth. She puts her head on my shoulder and pants as her body bucks against my hand.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Nice and slow for momma.”
Frozen in place. My thoughts swirl into a vortex of confusion. Her hand unzips my fly and frees me. Her pleasure’s overriding all common sense.
Patty: “Mmm… Ready for me?”
She dismounts my hand and turns away from me. In a blur, her skirt is over her back and she’s poking me between her pale cheeks. Patty moans as she bucks against my body.
Patty: “That’s it, sugar. Fuck momma good.”
I’ve gotta snap out of it. The softness of her body engulfs me over and over. Too good to resist.
Patty: “Just like that. (in a deep sinister tone) Fuck me. Fuck me, Sean!”
“Oh, God.” I pull out and stammer up the stairs, hoping to reach the solace of my bedroom. Her demonic laughter bounces off the marble and wood as I round the top of the steps and make a mad dash behind my door.
I turn on the cold water with an unsteady hand. Within a few breaths, I’m under the bone chilling deluge.
Scene Forty Five
I sneak back downstairs into the breakfast room. No way, do I want to have another run-in with Patty. Doug and Dylan work feverishly on their computers. They have to know.
“Hey, amigo,” Dylan says without looking up from his work.
“Hi.” I plop down next to Doug and make sure we’re still alone. “I’ve got something I need to tell you guys, but it can’t leave us.”
Dougie clacks away on his laptop. “Okay. Shoot.”
“I tried to leave a little earlier, but I couldn’t.”
Dylan: “I understand. It’s a long walk into town on foot.”
“No.” Hold back the frustration. “I mean, I crossed the covered bridge several times and I wound up standing in front of the mansion again.”
Doug slips his cheap pen behind an ear. “Are you sure that you crossed the entire bridge?”
“Yes!” I’m not an infant, Dougie.
He and Dylan exchange a look. One of concern, but I can’t tell if it’s for our helpless situation or for me.
Deep breath. “There’s more.”
They both push their computers away on the table and give me their undivided attention.
Doug: “Go on.”
How to put this. “It’s Patty.”
Dylan folds his big arms over the top of his belly.
“I – She --”
Dylan: “You what?”
“She forced me to do it with her.”
Both chests suck in an audible lungful of the stagnant mansion’s air.
“In the middle of it, her voice became something else. It wasn’t hers. She was possessed or something.”
Dylan’s jaw swings open.
Doug: “That’s a huge accusation, Sean. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Doug leans in closer on the table. “I mean beyond a reasonable doubt that it all happened like that?”
I slide my chair across the floor and lean in nearly nose to nose with him. “I’m positive. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to wipe that one away.”
Dylan jabs a finger at his screen. “Goes to confirm my theory.”
“What theory?”
Doug spins his computer around to face me. “We just discovered this today. Take a look.”
With a tap of the spacebar, the timecode in the lower right corner rolls. The hidden camera overlooks the wide fountain at the base of the main staircases. Its trickling waters pass over the sculpted marble in ribbons of white through the night vision’s lens.
“It’s the fountain. Big deal.”
Dylan: “Push it along to around three A.M.”
Doug hits a button, sending the footage into high speed. He slows it back down as a youthful female figure stumbles into the scene stage right. Thanks, Drama Club.
“Donna?”
Dougie bobs his head.
Dylan: “Keep your eye on her.”
She waddles up to the lip of the fountain. Long strips of black fabric sway on the side of both legs.
Her hair’s all stringy and dingy. Several asymmetric splotches soil her gray sweatshirt “She looks strung out.”
Not a peep from them. Dylan nods his head down in the direction of the screen. As I follow the action again, Donna’s head slowly turns to the left.
“She smells something.”
Doug: “That, she does.”
Her button nose searches. Then she backpedals toward the concealed camera, still sniffing the foyer for the source of the intrusion.
“What’s she--?”
Donna’s head swivels completely backward on its neck. Her pale face turns up toward the lens as her body stumbles closer still.
“Shit.”
Ancient folds of sorrow and torment on one cheek. The flesh of its twin has been carved out at some recent point in time. Her resentful gaze falls on the camera. Narrowing stare. The slits of her eyes glow in the footage. Their radiance intensifies as she steps closer. The screen flashes twice and blinks out of existence.
Doug: “That’s it. The recording ends there.”
“Her and Patty both?”
The investigator’s head shakes. “It’s the same entity.”
The pieces of the puzzle congeal in my mind. “The demon.”
Dougie: “Yup.”
Dylan: “Speaking of which, did you ever hear back from Roger?”
Doug nods. “A couple of times, yeah. He’s in route.” (Closes laptop) “We should try and find her.”
Dylan leans forward in his seat and props his head on his hands. “Bad idea, boss. It’s not Donna anymore. We should wait for the pro to show up.”
Doug: “I don’t think that we’ve got the time. It’s spreading, gaining power.”
Dylan: “But--”
Doug: “We need to strike now while it’s still weak.”
Scene Forty Six
Doug and Dylan waste no time in getting this manhunt underway. I take long strides to keep their pace to the back of the van. Doug unlocks the doors and pops them open. He climbs inside and shuffles through the stacks of gear, boxes, and equipment cases.
Doug: “It’s here. I know I packed it.”
“Anything I can help with?”
Doug: “Aha!”
He maneuvers his way back to the tailgate and sets the little rosewood box in front of me. Doug spins its latch to face him and pries the lid open. One crucifix goes to Dylan. He pockets a clear bottle of water in the left inside pocket of his jacket and a shimmering silver dagger into the right one.
“This oughta do it,” he says, holding a wooden cross in front of me.
Dylan: “I still say this is a bad idea.”
Doug marches off toward the front doors, a holy warrior, an archangel on a rampage. “This thing killed Emily. Now, it’s gotten to Patty and Donna. It’s a goddamned disease, and we need to end it now.”
He and Dylan storm off back into the house. I stop on the top step. An unnatural stillness has fallen over the property. Not so much as a breeze. Their footfalls echo on the first few steps inside. The massive front door slams behind me as I bound up the flight in pursuit.
We round the corner, striding past the music room on our way to the highest point in the mansion. Doug turns before the attic door, his face contorted in fear.
Doug: “This sort of thing will be dangerous.”
Dylan and I look at each other. The light jaunt up the stairs has the big fella in a cold sweat already.
Doug’s hands wring the crucifix. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen once we go up there. What I do know is that we can’t let it weaken our resolve.”
Dylan: (gasping) Wuh-Once it finds your weakness, it’ll (heaves) it’ll burrow in like a worm and take over.”
Doug’s brown stare falls on me. “Resolve. Ready?”
I must have nodded. I don’t recall doing it. The attic door groans open. A waft of stale dusty air invades our space. We advance with cautious steps upward.
Dylan’s bulbous nose jumps from left to right. “You hear that?”
Doug nods at the front of our line. “Something’s breathing.”
Dylan: “Something big.”
We flank our leader on either side at the top. The source of the long breaths becomes clear.
“The wall.”
Its planks and plaster bulge and then slowly deflate. The small clear bottle emerges from Doug’s inner pocket in an unsteady hand. He holds a thumb over its opening and flings some of the water out into the stale dark.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
His shoes clop across the floorboards. More drops splatter to the dust. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
Somewhere in the shadows, the attic floor sizzles.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
The wall bulges out farther as its cycles grow faster. Dylan falls in behind his boss, small cross extended at eye level. I inch behind them, unarmed and uncertain. Doug stops in front of the hidden door to the sanctuary. He tilts the holy water until a thin line emerges. A cross is drawn before the heart of this curse.
Doug: “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast you out.”
A low growl from just beyond the door. The grown-ups share in a mental conversation with their expressions:
Dougie: Whatawedo?
Dylan: Shit if I know.
Doug pulls the plank on the wall and the secret door pops open. Black. Pitch black. Another growl. This one more pissed than the last.
The cross in Dylan’s hand is in its own mini-quake. “I – I don’t know, Doug.”
Doug swaps the holy water out for the silver blade and crucifix. With the cross in his left hand and the weapon in his right, he steps over the threshold into darkness.
Doug: “In the name of--”
Enraged howls. Blazing wind. Its force hurls me onto my ass a few paces from the door. Something dark – a shadow moving over top of a shadow within the sanctuary.
“Doug, Dylan!”
No use. The force of the wind and the howls drown me out. Doug wails like an abused toddler. When it spins into view, I understand. His large crucifix melts over his hand and boils on its surface.
Doug: “Get it off!”
Both men stammer from the door. It slams shut, cutting off the hellish blast of wind. I crawl across the attic floor to my injured pal.
“Doug. Come on.” I take him by an elbow and head for the exit. “We’re outa here.”
Dylan’s heavy feet advance a few paces and slide silent.
“Dylan?” No time to glance over my shoulder. “You all right back there?”
He grunts and lets out a hue belch. “Mmmph. Just heartburn. I’m coming.”
Doug and I turn at the top of the stairs and wait for Dylan to catch up. The big man stiffens a few yards from me. Fear all over him.
“Dylan?”
Doug: “Come on, man. Let’s get you back down to the kitchen.”
The middle aged man shrieks. Something’s causing him an immense amount of pain. No signs of anything -- biting, tearing, nothing.
A couple of hitched breaths, then more wailing.
Those eyes. Once big, blue, and full of happiness. Now, melting from their sockets down his quivering jowls. Small lapping flames protrude from these and singe his brows. Once more, Dylan’s torment releases. Another orange flame ejects from his maw. I can’t look away. His vibrating tongue shrinks and curls into an ashen black mass.
Doug: “No!”
Dylan’s meaty hands claw at the pink bubbles oozing from his ears. Falling tears evaporate on his boiling skin. In his last throes, he falls to his knees in silence. The engulfed corpse of our friend falls forward to the floor and melts away.
Scene Forty Seven
Doug and I make it to the foyer where Jake’s waiting.
Doug: “He’s gone. Dylan’s dead.”
Jake’s too excited to stand in one place. “I know. I saw it all on his body cam.” His palms massage his temples. “I’ve gotta get out, Doug.”
Jake’s childhood buddy grabs him by the shoulders. “We can’t. Not until we end this.”
“We can’t leave even if we wanted to.”
Jake leans around Doug wearing a mask of utter confusion.
Doug: “Listen to him. (shakes Jake) Listen to me! Two people are dead and another’s MIA.”
Jake: “I-I’m done, man.”
He shoves Doug’s grip free and storms off outside into the fading daylight. We’re falling apart at the seams. Doug and I tag along behind as he sprints for the covered bridge. Emily’s bloated pale form swims in a black cloud of swarming insects as we pass the oak.
Doug: “Jake. Come on.”
The rotund camera op halts at the lip of the wooden planks. “This is bullshit – complete mind fuck.”
Only a few paces away. Then, he’s off into the hollow throat of the structure.
Jake: (echoing from inside the bridge) Gotta be a way out (panting) … way outa here.”
I push Doug to the far side of our opening. “You’re gonna want to stand clear.”
Too late. Jake emerges from our side of the bridge and stumbles over Doug’s foot. He skids along the white gravel, kicking up a small dust cloud. I take Jake’s left arm and Doug the right. Once upright, he digs a few embedded pebbles from the meat of his hands.
“Fuck this place,” Jake hisses, turning for another attempt.
“Save it.” It takes both of us to hold the big man back. “I’ve already been there.”
Doug’s head remains fixed on the side yard. “We’ve got a bigger issue.”
Jake’s struggling ceases. My eyes follow theirs to the tree in the yard. It’s gone.
Jake: “Emily.”
Doug shuffles closer to the oak. “It was there when we came out.” His head turns back to me. “Wasn’t it?”
I nod. Of course, it was. “I know her body was there.”
Doug: “It’s screwin’ with--”
Her pale bloated hand shoves Doug back in the grass. His words rattle in his chattering jaws. Those eyes. Once they shone with life and beauty. Now, splintered red and decayed. Her sallow face hovers over Doug’s, her nose searching. Low snarls like those of a predator lying in wait. Flies and gnats buzz around the gray masses that cling to her extremities.
Jake: (whispers) “What now?”
Emily drags her gimp legs over to Jake and conducts the same silent interrogation. Right beside me. The stench reminds me of the times that I helped my uncle Paul gut his deer during hunting season. Living metallic blood interlaced with rapid decomposition. Rising bile forced down once more. She snaps her gangly strands of blonde hair in my direction. Her limp leg hisses through the grass. Nostrils pulse just over my right cheek. Her skin, cold, coarse. Her sniffs resemble those of a wild animal.
Her bloodshot gaze freezes before mine. Nothing living behind them, but still another pries into my innermost secrets. Black tongue upon my left cheek. Like damp sandpaper. “Emily. Please.”
She backs away from our line, giggling. The subtle chuckle erupts into maniacal laughter, deep and sinister. Emily’s head lurches back. Her arms lift to either side.
An explosion.
One instant, she’s there. The next, a cloud of yellow puss and gray flesh.
Part 1: https://redd.it/6veib5 Part 2: https://redd.it/6w0mw8 Part 3: https://redd.it/6wbyh7 Part 4: https://redd.it/6xewgr Part 5: https://redd.it/6yr8sk Part 6: https://redd.it/6zfcvz Part 7: https://redd.it/6zyqav
submitted by drumjedi76 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2017.03.18 09:50 Gruffyy Mid-Season Bug List: New and Old

Please post other bugs you've found and any evidence you have so I can add them.
Out of characters... Max 40,000
Weapons

Shields
Buck
Thatcher
Thermite
Capitao
Twitch
Blitz
Fuze
Montagne
IQ
Glaz
Hibana
Sledge
Ash
Jackal
Blackbeard
Valkyrie
Caveira
Pulse
Castle
Kapkan
Doc
Bandit
Mute
Tachanka
Mira
Echo
Jager
Frost
Smoke
Coastline
Consulate
Chalet
Bank
Plane
Border
Kanal
Hereford
Yacht
House
Club House
Skyscraper
Kafe
Bartlett
Matchmaking
Deployables/Gadgets
Terrorist Hunt
Performance
Spectating
Misc
Unconfirmed/Claims
submitted by Gruffyy to Rainbow6 [link] [comments]


2016.04.28 15:07 DamnThrow1 Under skirt hidden cam

Hey guys, I feel like today is my time to share, please forgive my mistakes as English is not my native language, but, I ll do my best.
I have started Nofap last October, I had a mid to sever PIED: - Condoms were nightmares. - Could not get hard on one night stands so I recycle myself into a tongue slave to please the girls I brang home. Damn, so sad. - Could perform with a GF with difficulties, and sometimes, false excuses. - Could not get hard sometimes in PMO even on the weirdest fetishes. - Could not MO/get hard without P. - During love making, I would always get aroused by myself before the penetration, and I never came with a blowjob, I had to finish manually. I then blamed the girl in my head "not sexy enough, not willing enough, not good enough, too drunk, too tired" now I see it. There was million of excuses for my lack of desire, but I never admit that my habits were the issues there. I guess it was easier that way. I was a shame.
About my story and habits: I -thankfully to my then non internet parents- discover high speed P internet late, around 16 years old when I discovered the first video. That allowed me to have a deeply great relationship whith a wonderful girl - at 17- sentamentally and sexually. We could have sex all day long and never got tired of it. We discover so much together and porn was not an addiction back then, even if I started to PMO when she was not around anymore -schools parts us-. Then the years went on. Sex was still awesome, but the emotionnal connection weakened. I believe with our first love, well, mistakes are made, and some are big. I used then P to not cheat on her. Yea I am pretty sure that is how I justified it to myself. I began to watch "unaware stuff" - like hidden cams, some light fetishes, and fantasy stories about incest. I would MO around once a day if she was not with me.
After 4 years of relationship - around 21 yo-, we broke up, no more love from me and we both changed a lot, and ... yes I even told myself "I have still porn to deal with it". That is the moment I went crazy on it: I was very sad and would basically masturbate several times a day on weird and filthy stuff like humiliation, shemale, dark fantasies etc. I could go on all day long and I usually would.
Until last October -24 yo-, after a revelation my mind suggest to me, I started to think the porn was the problem, I actually had this revelation the first time I saw a hidden came and got a flaccid one with my first girlfriend, but never listened to it. What struck me this time was that I was ready to do hidden cam, I was going to buy the stuff to do it. This is when I could not deny I got a serious issu, and Porn was the key of it. I looked online, saw this sub, and brace myself to give it a try.
I commit myself to do the most I can to not PMO and to go "full monk" for the next 6 months. So today I have not been with a girl, and yes I reject somes because of that. I am not going to tell you all about the generic benefits, I am pretty sure you almost know them all by heart, but to be fair, I am back to normal, about the PIED question, it must be cured already, I will test that soon, or not... I got time, and I am not that needy guy I used to be: - Morning wood are back even after a wet dream, a relapse or an involuntary/ volontary ejactulation -explain that soon-, I did not have them for a year or 2 before Nofap. - I can get hard just by thinking about it, and even reach O without physical stimulation nor thinking about P. Other stuff: - I can cry (did not happen since I was a kid) - I don't get insane rushs anymore about everything (ie: see a girl in skirt). - I don't think of P nor M anymore. - Mind is clear, everyday, anytime. - Girls are more beautiful than ever. - I don't understand my old self, I just can't. I actually don't understand a lot of behavior I would have found normal 7 months ago. - I want a girl to love, not a body to fuck. Casual sex does not appel me anymore. - I don't need sex as I used to and I am willing to wait a long time before going to do it (Just so you know how it is a major break through: since I could not get a condom one, I was almost willing to get a STD just to fuck one night, that was just sick). - I do a lot of meditation, sport, yoga, I have big projects coming, and I am always on time on everything, etc. Well... almost always on time.
During these 6-7 months of NF, I have had fews relapses: usually I had streaks of 1 month, 3 months is my biggest. I considered myself breaking the streak the minute I was looking for P, or trying to get an O even without M. So in total I must have seen... in first months 10 min of soft stuff -thanks to Youtube- and some pictures. That total would have been 1/20 of a usual day in my PMO years.
I learned a lot of things during my adventure: - The first thing is: never gave up to porn, even for a glimpse, if you open that door in your mind, that won't end well, don't fool yourself. - The second thing is: never gave up to porn, just in case the message was not clear enough the first time. - Nofap has started as a joke, and is now a shelter for a newcoming plagues: PIED and porn addiction. I see ourself as pioneers in our sickness. The first draw of addicted. We can be exemple for the future ones whom will come here looking for support, or we can be with them struggling for years. - You don't want to cure PIED, you want to cure the P addiction, PIED will be cured as a side-effect. Too bloody damn time a lot of people cured with PIED fall again into P, then got PIED again. Well, that make sense as their objective was only to cured PIED, they never commit to stop the P. It is as if you want to cure a lung cancer, but not willing to get ride of your cigarettes for the rest of your life. - You can have a zillion quotes under your hands, and all the support you want, it is you at the end whom make your own choices. Whether you are going to PMO for the rest of what will be a sad life, or live your new life from today is totally up to you. - Getting ride of P is not a hard choice, it is a beautiful and easy one, you just don't see it now, but give it time. Once with your new life, you ll be glad. - Get ride of your old self: say adios (not sure how to put it in english) to it and don't look back. - Commit to your future best self, see it, who do you want to be, what will you be doing in a year with your new life ? Do you want to be that guy doing awesome stuff and recording with a GoPro, or the guy with an amazing girlfriend, a dreamjob ? Or maybe you are rather good with draining yourself on pixels all day long and watching these winners on a screen wishing you were them?
There is a lot more but I am pretty sure this post is long enough, so ultimately I would to say something. I see a lot of relapses every time I come here, this is just sad. Don't stick to your objectives is what will get you into the worst life ever: A life which ends up in regrets, where you are the looser of your own story.
Please respect yourself, be the kind of man or lady your ancestors and children -if you have some on day- would be proud of. I sincerely wish you the best, start today, no more last PMO, it already happen months ago.
submitted by DamnThrow1 to NoFap [link] [comments]


2015.05.20 12:15 Hambone3110 Under skirt hidden cam

A JVerse story.
Chapter 21, Part 3/4 of the Kevin Jenkins series, AKA "The Deathworlders".
Chapter 21, part 1 HERE
Chapter 21, part 2 HERE
Curiosity and mild alarm were dancing on Vedreg’s body as he considered what they had just heard. "That kind of argument seems out of character." He commented
"For both of them." Kirk agreed.
"Just a little." Amir added, drily. “Julian’s scary when he gets angry, too, and Lewis just kept antagonising him. It was like watching a chicken try and pick a fight with a bear.”
"And all this over Miss Chang? Hmmm…" Vedreg lapsed into contemplation, slow bands of blue light rippling all over his body.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Kirk asked him, after a moment.
"Increased aggression, competition over females... If they were Vgork, I would think they were entering Musth."
"Lewis has started taking his exercise seriously this last week, too." Kirk mused. “Interesting theory.”
"Uh… For the Earthling’s benefit, please?"
Both aliens made apologetic gestures to Amir. "Vgork males of high rank periodically enter a state called musth where their testosterone levels soar, and they become violent, aggressive and, um... Amorous." Vedreg explained.
"Testosterone has a similar effect on humans, even though you don’t have Musth." Kirk added.
"Okay, well... what about me and the girls? We don’t feel any different." Amir paused. “At least, I don’t, and I think we’d notice if Xiù and Allison were both acting like Julian and Lewis.”
"So that rules out any environmental factors." Kirk said. “Meaning this must have been triggered by a specific event.”
"Well, Lewis has always been… he’s always rolled his eyes a bit over my faith, but it started to get worse just after we left Umu-whatever. Where we picked up Xiù."
"So, it’s an event within the past week. The Huh perhaps? None of the other humans studied it."
"Yeah, but you studied it too, didn’t you?"
"I’m not human. I’m not sure my body even produces testosterone. But even a week on, I still feel cravings to study that thing again."
"You are not going to suggest we should get it out and examine it further, are you?" Vedreg asked.
"Don’t tempt me." Kirk replied. “No, I think a simple trip to the infirmary for them both may be in order. If they are both experiencing a hormone spike, as seems likely, then that’s easily corrected.”
"I’ll call them."
Xiù’s cabin was actually the most lavishly-decorated on the ship, despite her initial reluctance to put her stamp on it. Allison had pointed out that Xiù was "Going to spend at least, like, a month on this ship anyway, so why not get comfortable?"
The result was that she’d used up her entire month’s allowance of nanofactory time on fabrics, rugs, fairy lights, throw pillows and, with Kirk’s permission, candles. The result was that the cool default lighting of the cabins was warmer in her room, and there was a gust of scented candle on the wind when she answered Lewis’ knock.
"Hey." She smiled, but he could tell that she was pretty frazzled. “What’s up?”
"Uh, I can come back if this isn’t a good time…"
"No, I’m fine, I just…" She yawned “...I didn’t sleep so well last night and I guess it’s catching up on me now.”
"Well, if you need a nap-"
She smiled. "I’m fine, really. What’s up?"
"Well…" he took the plunge. “Look, there’s not a whole lot to do on this ship, I know, but I’ve got some movies picked out I think you’d like, and I’m not a half-bad cook myself when I put my mind to it so, I thought… Y’know, we’ve been getting on pretty good, and…”
Her lips parted in surprise. "Are… are you asking me on a date?" she asked.
"Yeah! Or, like, on the closest thing we can manage to a date on this ship. If you want."
"Wow, um…"
Lewis knew a rejection when he saw one coming and steeled himself for it, determined not to be disappointed.
"I mean… I’m flattered, but Lewis, I’m not ready to mate with anyone yet."
All the steeling in the world couldn’t have protected his ego from that unexpected turn of phrase.
"...MATE?!"
She hadn’t seemed to notice what she’d said until his outraged echo, but when she did her face went crimson. "Oh god, I’m sorry, that was in Gaoian, I…"
"No, no. Clearly I had the wrong idea here."
"Don’t be angry, I-!"
"Ah, go mate with yourself, Xiù!"
"But-!"
He was already halfway down the corridor, and pretended not to notice the sound of her door closing, nor the miserable shout of "God fucking DAMMIT, Xiù!" that drifted through it.
He barged past Vedreg on his way to his own quarters, ignoring the big alien’s concerned query, and threw himself into his bunk, fuming quietly.
The worst part was that he didn’t really know why he was so angry.
He was still seething when the room chimed politely at him. "You have a message." it informed him.
"Ignore."
"The message is flagged as urgent."
"I said fucking IGNORE!"
"Ignoring message."
"And hold all my messages until I say otherwise."
The room chimed again, acknowledging the command, and fell silent.
He didn’t notice when he fell asleep, but he woke with a start some time later when somebody started banging on his door.
"Ah, yes. Testosterone levels at two thousand percent normal. Just like Julian."
Lewis frowned at the readout. "The fuck?"
"Must have been the Huh. No wonder we’ve been acting like a pair of hyperthyroid quarterbacks." Julian told him.
"Fortunately…" Kirk said, touching something cold to his arm. “...It’s an easy fix. There. You should be back to normal in a couple of hours.”
"What about you?" Lewis asked of Kirk. “You played with that thing too.”
"And indeed, my own hormonal balance is off." Kirk agreed.
Allison was leaning against the wall with her arms folded. "Really? I’ve not noticed you acting differently…?" she said.
"Human and Rrrtktktkp’ch brains are very different. Still, I suspect I too would have begun to show behavioural changes before long."
Lewis sighed. "I guess I owe Xiù an apology, don’t I?"
"I’m sure she’ll understand." Kirk said.
"I’d better talk to her first, though." Allison said. “What happened?”
"Oh, I… asked her out."
"Yeah, I knew that. And?"
"Well, uh." Lewis scratched at the back of his head. “She had one of those Gaoian moments. You know, she’s tired, she’s not been sleeping well? So she said she wasn’t ‘looking to mate with anyone right now’.”
"Ouch." Julian grimaced. “I can see why you got mad.”
"Yeah, but it’s not her fault, is it? You said it yourself dude, she’s been without human contact for years. That’s got to fuck with your head."
Kirk patted his shoulder. "It isn’t your fault either." he assured him.
"Still." Allison said. “I’ll go talk to her.”
"Sure." Lewis muttered, as she kissed Julian’s cheek and left the Infirmary.
Xiù doesn’t remember having set up a hundred tea-light candles in her quarters, but she doesn’t question it: She’s making love to Julian, what better way to do that than by candlelight?
She runs her finger over his chest and watches his skin glow forge-red where she presses. The sight is entrancing, so much so that she forgets all about the sex and just watches the glow. When she taps his chest, coloured sparks fly everywhere.
She does it again, laughing, and again and again. She has always loved New Year, and the fireworks. In fact... why is she wasting her time here when she could be there, enjoying the celebrations?
She climbs off the stone man and steps out into the street, hailing a cab to take her to her parents’ place. There will be Nin Gou! And Luo buo gao! How could she have forgotten?
She’s still kicking herself for forgetting when she turned over and nearly fell out of bed, jolting awake in time to catch herself from falling.
She rolled back onto her pillow and stared at the ceiling, recalling the dream as the details evaporated, never to be recalled. What she could remember of it left her feeling hungry, horny and nostalgic all at once.
Cursing in a melange of English, Chinese and Gaoian, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, and cranked the temperature right down, and was still sluicing herself under the cold water when the door chimed.
"Just a minute!"
She scrubbed her limbs until they were merely damp and threw on her bathrobe, wrapping her hair up into a towel-turban. "Come in!"
Allison poked her head round it. "Hey, you okay?" she asked.
Xiù paused. "You heard?"
"Lewis is in the infirmary right now." Allison said. “It turns out that fucking huh thing’s had the boys on a hormone rush all week.”
"...Are they okay?"
"They’ll be fine." Allison reassured her. “Lewis is probably going to come up here and say sorry later.”
Xiù sat down on her bed. "I don’t… really blame him." she said. “I mean… okay, I do, but… I guess I mean…” she gave up and shrugged helplessly.
Allison just smiled. "I get you." she said.
Xiù relaxed. "Thanks."
"So… honey." Allison sat down next to her. “Asking as a friend, and with no hard feelings at all…”
Not unnaturally, Xiù was immediately nervous. "Um… Yes?"
"What’s going on between you and my boyfriend?"
"Wh-? Nothing!" Xiù’s face was redder than her rug, and she stood up sharply. “Nothing! Really!”
"I know nothing’s happened." Allison reassured her. “I’m just asking… what’s going on?”
Xiù’s blush faded a little, and she dragged the towel off her head, bunching it up nervously. "I’m sorry, he’s just… hot."
"Oh yeah." Allison agreed, nodding, which drew a giggle out of Xiù. “And you’re lonely, aren’t you?” she added.
"...Yeah."
Allison nodded. "And a bit confused, going by what you said to Lewis."
Xiù sighed, and threw the towel into her laundry hamper. "I guess so." she admitted. “It’s so much more… straightforward with Gaoians.” She punctuated the pause and the word that ended it with her hands, then gestured towards the door and to Allison. “The whole ‘he’s off limits because he’s with you’ thing is… I mean, I know how it works, I haven’t forgotten, but it’s…” She tailed off and shrugged again, flapping her arms helplessly.
"Not what you’re used to?"
Xiù hissed an indrawn breath and flapped her arms again, shaking her head. "I guess it’s not." she agreed.
"That’s gotta be scary."
Xiù just nodded, staring at the floor, balling her fists. It was such a childlike pose that it yanked right at every motherly instinct Allison had, and she launched herself up off the bed to grab her friend in a tight hug.
She earned a soaking wet shoulder for her efforts as Xiù let go and shook, hugging back so hard that her fingernails broke skin even through Allison’s tshirt. "What if I can’t be human again?" she squeaked. “What if… what if I’m stuck? What do I do? Every time I think I’m doing well I relax and then I screw up again! What if I’m…. broken? Where do I go then?”
Allison said nothing, just held on and let her get it out.
"All I want to do is go home, but then I act like a Gaoian and I’m scared I’ll go home and people will think I’m a freak, and my family won’t recognise me and I won’t know them and I won’t fit... and… and it all feels like it happened to someone else, Earth, it feels like it wasn’t me who lived there, like I’m a Gaoian who had a dream about being human one time and… How do I cope? What do I do? I don’t think I know how to do anything human any more, but I’m not Gaoian… so… so… So where do I belong?!"
She petered out and just sobbed for a bit, while Allison rubbed her back and waited until she judged the time was right.
"You said all of that in English." she said.
There was a slow moment, but the sobbing stopped, and another slow moment after that, Xiù pulled her head out of Allison’s shirt and blinked at her with watery red eyes. "I did?"
"Every word." Allison promised.
Xiù relaxed a little, and stood up straight, issuing a bitter little laugh as she dried her eyes. "I’m so messed up…" she observed.
"Nobody wouldn’t be." Allison said, brushing some of Xiù’s hair out of the way. “But we’re here for you. We get you, Julian maybe even more than I do. And if you’re broken, you’ll mend, or you’ll find somebody to mend you.”
Xiù was nodding, downcast, but Allison wasn’t quite finished. "And as for where you belong…"
"Don’t say here." Xiù interrupted. “Please, don’t ask me again.”
Allison hugged her again. "I was going to say ‘nobody belongs anywhere’." she said. “Except for where they choose to be. Wherever that is.”
Xiù finally smiled again as that sank in. It was a reluctant, unhappy little smile, but it was still like the sun rising. "I like that." she said.
"Kind of my mantra, babe... You okay?"
Xiù scrubbed at her eye again, sniffing. "I don’t know." she said. “I hope so.”
Allison nodded. "Good start." she said. “And… about Julian?”
"Yeah?"
"I’m fine with you looking at him, I swear. It’s okay. Just… don’t kiss him."
That finally provoked a giggle. "I’ll try." Xiù promised.
"Cool... Girl’s night? I’ve got Disney movies, red wine, and a shirtless waiter. My treat."
"Shirtl-? Wait, really?!"
"Well, he doesn’t know it yet…" Allison smiled mischievously “But… call it a hunch, I think he’ll agree to it. You in?”
"I thought you weren’t into sharing?"
"This isn’t sharing, this is just… hmm…" Allison paused and thought about it. “It’s just a bit of fun.” She declared.
"...Can I make crepes? I’m kinda hungry."
"Sounds good."
"Then I’m in."
"This, uh... could be degrading..."
Allison paused as they were about to open the door to the common room. "Are you okay?"
Julian fidgeted. "I know I agreed to this, just…"
She smiled, and gave him a kiss. "It’s not like I’ve got a cattle prod, baby." she said. “If you’re not totally comfortable, don’t even worry about it. I just thought it’d be a bit of harmless, sexy fun. But if you don’t want to...”
Julian considered it, then shook his head and smiled. "No, I’m in." he said. “Comfort zones are meant to be pushed out of.”
"You’re sure?"
He grabbed her hand and put it on his chest, letting her feel his pulse.
"Wow… you’re getting off on this, huh?" she noted.
He nodded and looked down, fighting the half-smile that was crawling up one side of his face. "A bit, yeah."
"Good boy." Allison teased him, then opened the door.
Xiù was just setting down the crepes she’d made - true Canadian ones, laden with ham, cheese, sunny-side-up eggs and maple syrup - on the coffee table alongside popcorn and nachos. From the looks of things, she’d already helped herself to a glass of wine.
"Ooh!" she exclaimed. “You gave him a bow tie!”
Julian fingered the adornment in question. "These things aren’t made to be worn on bare skin." he complained.
"It’s that or the cat ears." Allison reminded him.
"Bow tie it is!" Julian rushed to reply, preempting the delight that had risen on Xiù’s face. She made a disappointed sound, but also took a second to unabashedly appreciate the view. Both women were clearly enjoying themselves.
"Well I’ll be kind." Allison said. “You can pick three films out, we’ll eliminate two of them and watch the survivor.”
"Very kind." Julian drawled, sarcastically. Allison held up a finger.
"Ah?" she cautioned him.
He sighed, but smiled a little and straightened, trying to will himself into the role. "Yes ma’am."
Xiù giggled. "Good boy." She’d clearly already relaxed considerably after just one glass, and looked on course to be a happy, bubbly drunk.
"So, what are your picks?" Allison urged him, pouring a glass each for herself and Xiù.
He examined the stack of Disney movies. "Uh… Lady and the Tramp, Dumbo, and Mulan." He said, picking three they hadn’t watched yet.
"Ugh, not Dumbo. I hate those pink elephants." Xiù objected. Julian threw the disc back onto the stack.
"Hmmm.. Mulan’s got better songs." Allison said.
"Let’s watch it!" Xiù enthused.
Allison winked at their waiter. "You heard her, lover! Jump to!"
He tried to be serious, but couldn’t quite contain a smile. "Yes ma’am."
The girls chimed their glasses together. "Good boy." they chorused.
"♪♫Tranquil as a forest, but on fire within! Once you find your center, you are sure to win!♫♫"
"Sounds like quite the party back there."
"Yep." Amir nodded. What the girls lacked in hitting the right notes, they were clearly making up for in tipsy enthusiasm.
"How come we’re not invited?"
"Allison called it a ‘girl’s night’."
"So, what’s Julian doing back there?"
"Serving drinks, with his shirt off."
Lewis paused. After being discharged from the infirmary, and using the fading dregs of hormonal aggression in his system to his advantage, he’d enlisted Amir’s help in solving the mystery of the FTL drive power draw. Now, he stopped and listened to two voices atonally chorusing "♫swift as the coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon...♪". The volume was impressive even through a closed pressure door and down the deck.
"Wow… Poor bastard." he said.
Amir nodded. "Yep."
"♫...As the dark side of, the mooOoOoOon!!!♫♪"
"...What do you think would happen if we asked them to do something like that for us?"
"Broken ribs."
"Fuck, man." Lewis griped. “That’s just not fair.”
"Nope."
"....Change of topic, where’s Kirk at, anyway?"
"Think he’s up in the observation blister looking for signs of OmoAru life out there."
"After that sandstorm?" Lewis looked skeptical.
"It’s their planet. They’re probably used to it. He said something about wanting to see what they do after a week of being forced indoors"
"Why’s that?"
"♫You're unsuited for the rage of war, so pack up, go home: you're through.♪"
Amir raised his voice over the song. "He said that anything they do straight away is probably something they’re still at least a little passionate about."
"♫How could I make a man out of you?♪"
Lewis wobbled his head in concession. "Makes sense I guess."
"Pardon?" The girls had launched into the chorus again, with even more cacophonous vigor than before.
"I said makes sense!"
"Yep."
The volume increased dramatically as the door opened and Julian slipped out into the deck, holding an empty wine bottle, and vanished into the galley, from whence he re-emerged a minute later with a full bottle. To both Amir and Lewis’ astonishment, he seemed to be enjoying himself.
"...Are you sure we couldn’t get them to…?"
"Nope."
"The Fifth Element and lingerie?"
"Go ahead and suggest it. It’s your funeral."
"...Shit."
Amir smiled grimly. "Yep."
By the time the movie had finished, Amir had already declared that the limits of his technical expertise were reached, and that from here on out it was all up to Lewis, before retiring to bed.
For his part, Lewis was determined to pull an all-nighter, and the only thing that distracted him from his work was when he saw Allison and Julian on the security cams, en route to Julian’s cabin and all bar stripping each other on the way there.
He genuinely didn’t notice Xiù, or know how long she’d been waiting in the doorframe, until she spoke, but her greeting "Hey." was so gentle that it didn’t even make him jump.
He turned. "Hey." he echoed.
A good five seconds of mutual awkwardness ensued before he finally decided to break it. "I’m sorry." he said. “I shoulda been more understanding.”
"I’m sorry too." she replied. “I just… I guess I’ve got a long way to go.”
He nodded. "It’s okay. Still, even if it’s just a friend-date, offer stands."
She smiled. He wasn’t sure if it was the wine that was making her so relaxed, or if she was just in a good headspace right now. "Xié xié."
"No Disney though, please."
"That’s okay… Goodnight, Lewis."
"G’night."
Allison came down from her orgasm with laughter, the low and satisfied chuckle of the totally relaxed, and floated on bliss as Julian gently retrieved his hand and snuggled up beside her, interrupting her heavy breathing with a kiss and a gentle stroke on the cheek to get her hair out of the way.
"I think she liked it." he observed in a sing-song whisper, his eyes twinkling in the dark. He was plainly very pleased with himself.
As he should be.
"Mmmm, yeah." she agreed. “Oh, I definitely like it.”
"You like to be in charge, huh?"
She giggled. "Shut up and go get your mistress a glass of water."
He laughed, but extracted his arm from under her head. "Yes ma’am."
"Mmm…" She bit her lip and chuckled again. “Good boy.”
Xiù is sitting by a lake. Or by a river, maybe: the details are irrelevant. The sun is rising blue and cold over a landscape of white-foliaged trees and swirling distant shapes that might be birds, or maybe eels. She is wearing long skirts of white cloth. The mist should be chilly but she feels quite warm, watching a green fish swirl and mouth lazily in circles by the shore.
She catches it, reaching into the stream and pulling it out. It flips and flails in her hands and, to calm it, she opens it to page fifty-six and tries to read what is printed there, but she can’t make out the words.
As she bends to return the poor creature to the water, she catches sight of her own reflection and examines it, surprised to see a human face studying her. Where is her fur? What happened to her ears and muzzle?
But of course, she’s human.
...Isn’t she?
She turns to face the stone man behind her, seeking his opinion. This time he is taller than mountains, and he bends to offer her his hand.
She steps forward onto his fingertips, and he picks her up, and up, and up, past his knees, past a penis the size of a skyscraper, past square miles of muscular sculpture, to his face.
She speaks to him, but can’t remember the words, or even what she intends to say. She turns around, thinking about what to tell him, how to communicate her feelings, and looks over the side of the boat she’s on, double-checking that her reflection is still human.
The stone man comes up beside her and takes her hand.
He sings to her, but the song is piercing, terrifying. It sounds like… like…
She woke up and his "song" was still reverberating around her room. It was Sanctuary’s red alert alarm.
Kirk had beaten all the humans to the flight deck. "What the hell’s going on?" he was demanding.
Lewis was working furiously, selecting, drag-dropping and running programs as fast as his hands could move, "We’re compromised, don’t ask me how!" He said. “one minute I’m poking around the FTL systems, next-”
"FTL?"
"Yeah, there’s been some weird power draw on it this week, I was trying to lock it down. Next I knew we’ve got these motherfuckers crawling all over our systems." He waved a hand at the screen.
Kirk rocked back onto his hindlimbs as Amir squeezed past him and threw himself into the pilot’s seat, lending his own limited expertise to Lewis’ aid. "And what are ‘these motherfuckers’?" he asked, quietly.
"Fuck if I know. They’re using system runtime like programs, but they’re acting like other users."
"What exactly were you doing?"
"Now is not the time for a fucking powerpoint presentation." Lewis snarled, dragging a program into the run list. It apparently didn’t function as he’d hoped, drawing an angry noise out of him. “They just got into navigation, they know where we are.”
"Did you run a communications protocol through the FTL?" Kirk spat.
Lewis paused, but rallied and threw another script into the line of fire. "Yeah, how did you know?"
Kirk ignored him and spun around. "Julian, yank the blackbox, replace it with the backup ALV." he ordered. “Xiù, Allison, get outside and cut the anchor cables. Amir, prep for launch.”
"What the shit is going on?" Lewis demanded. Kirk turned back to him.
"I fucked up." he said. “And now the Hierarchy have found us.”
Fusion knives made short work of the anchor cables, and the longest part of Julian’s task was the sprint down the ship’s central corridor, up the stairs and through the engineering access hatch.
"We’re a week from anywhere, we’re probably safe… aren’t we?" Amir was asking as the girls returned to the flight deck to report their job done.
"They have point-to-point FTL communications, something the Dominion has been trying to perfect for… millennia." Kirk replied. “For all we know they’ve perfected single-end wormholes or gigalight FTL for good measure. Or maybe Aru is one of their projects and they have a ship or a staging post nearby. Our only defense at this point is to get the hell out of here and hope they’re too far away to catch up. Lewis, you’re sure you managed to clear them out?”
"Second the blackbox was yanked, I was able to nuke the whole system and restore from backup. Nothing’s come back to haunt us, so… yeah, we’re clean."
"Amir."
Amir nodded and stabbed the button for a shipwide announcement. "All hands, report in for launch."
There was a chorus of "here"s from around the bridge and, after a few seconds, a rumble from Vedreg over the open line that he, too, was present.
"Right."
Sanctuary went from resting on the sands, to hovering above them, then rotated around its stern until its nose was aimed skywards. Angry clouds formed in the displaced air around a cylindrical forcefield tunnel of vacuum that Amir created for them and then he punched to full thrust.
Allison turned faintly green as the ground just vanished, lurching away behind them with a violence that offended the senses, while nobody on the ship felt the slightest jolt. The sky faded to black in seconds.
"Jesus, this thing really moves." Xiù whispered, awe-struck.
"Out of the well in three… two… one… Warp."
The planet Aru jolted away with just as much ferocity as its surface had done, as did all three of its moons. A second later, so did the Aru star.
"Redline it?" Amir asked. He sounded quite cool, considering.
"Redline it." Kirk agreed. Amir just nodded and patted his console fondly, reassuring the ship.
"Seventy kilos." he reported, watching a display that was blurring in his upper-right field of view. “A hundred. two hundred. Four hundred… we’re at blackbox cruise. Seven hundred kilolights… Bus maxed at seven hundred ninety thousand C and holding.”
"Let us hope." Kirk said. “That is enough.”
"We should be careful anyway." Julian pointed out.
"Agreed. Grab your personal items and put any you can’t carry, along with a data backup and…. yes, the Huh into a cargo pod and program it for Cimbrean. I’ll go help Vedreg into a life raft. You all should get in one too."
"What about Amir?" Xiù asked.
"Don’t worry about me." Amir said. “The flight seat doubles as a life raft. So do the beds in all the cabins.”
"Go." Kirk urged. “I don’t want to trust to luck here.”
Julian turned to the girls. "You two get the Huh. I’ll prep the pod." he said.
They let Kirk go first: he trotted down the axial corridor and toward the lower cargo deck where Vedreg had made his home. Every emergency feature on the ship was outlined in blue lighting, from the hallway oxygen masks, first aid kits and fire extinguishers, to the life raft alcoves and decontamination showers. Kirk had spared no expense on ensuring that the ship’s occupants had every emergency tool they could want, cleverly hidden so that it only showed up when needed. Now they were all deploying, panels sliding back to reveal the functional features beneath.
"You got anything special you want to save?" Allison asked. Xiù checked her pocket, gripping the handful of personal items she'd brought with her. It wasn't much - just the data chip Ayma had brought for her, and one of the smooth little stones that Myun had taken to sewing into her clothes.
"No, I’ve already got everything." she said.
"Great." Kirk turned off the corridor and Allison took off at a run, leaving Xiù to scramble after her. Down the ramp, through the common room, up the ramp, turn left past the engineering access, and Allison’s room was the second on their left. She punched in the door code, darted inside, and returned an instant later carrying a knotted bundle of T-shirt and strapping on her holster and gun.
She’d just done up the leg strap when Amir’s voice boomed over the intercom.
"BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!!"
They didn’t have time. He’d barely finished the third word when the ship lurched, flinging both of them down the corridor.
Xiù tucked in her head and limbs and rolled, not unfolding until she’d come to a halt, finding herself fetched up against the reinforced backplate of the engine that terminated the deck corridor. Allison had come to a halt a little earlier, and was hauling herself to her feet, swearing and cursing at the carpet burn all down her flank.
Somebody had clearly left the microphone on because the next thing they heard was Julian’s voice, sounding strained, saying. "Shit, that’s a lot of blood…"
Both women went still, looked at each other, and as one bolted back up towards the flight deck, Allison at a dead run. Xiù had the presence of mind to grab a medical kit from its previously-hidden recess on the wall.
Down the ramp, through the common room, up the ramp, along the corridor and… Xiù felt her stomach lurch. That was a lot of blood.
And beyond that… space.
"What the hell happened?" Allison was yelling. The bubble of glass that was Sanctuary’s nose was half shattered, the air held in only by forcefields. Amir was writhing in his seat, teeth gritted as he tried to press his hand to a horrible wound in his side.
"Gravity spike and mines!" Lewis replied. He’d hauled himself out of his seat and grabbed a medical kit of his own.
"Clear out!" Allison commanded, grabbing the kit. “Julian! give him a shot of this, right here.” she handed an injector to him and tapped a spot on Amir’s spine, then extracted something that looked for all the world like a sealant gun from the kit. “Xiù, get me a light!”
Xiù’s paralysed limbs moved without her conscious control, and she snatched an emergency lantern from the wall, holding it up and trying to ignore the… colours, and wet shapes she could see. Especially the white. Especially the way they moved as Allison pumped some kind of foam into the gruesome injury.
The injector beeped, and a second later Amir sighed, shook his head and collected himself. With a gasp, he lashed out and swiped his hands through the helm’s control field and the stars outside blurred sideways. Xiù screwed her eyes shut.
"That’s a lot of mines!" he grunted.
"You’re stable." Allison declared. “Come on, let’s get you in a stasis pod.”
He shook his head, his face already pebbled with sweat. "Can’t."
"Wh-?"
Everyone on the bridge flinched and averted their eyes as a line of pure heat slashed a blue-pink afterimage across the sky. Xiù felt the incredible temperature of it on her skin.
"What was that?!" Julian asked.
Lewis looked grim "Plasma cannon."
"It’s a fuckhuge ship, is what it is." Amir told them. “I stop flying and you’re all dead.”
"But-" Lewis began.
"Nah mate. Abandon ship. That’s a bloody order from your pilot."
Another shot tore the sky open, much closer this time if the searing heat that bathed them like sunburn was anything to go by.
Julian, Allison and Xiù were all survivors. Julian just stood and put a hand on Amir’s shoulder, eyes damp. Allison kissed the side of his head, and the three of them cleared the bridge, with Xiù not even knowing what to say.
It was Lewis that was the holdup. "Dude…" he began, weeping openly.
"You don’t want to be here when I ram that thing, bruv." Amir told him.
"You’re gonna-?"
Amir grinned at him "Fuck off you idiot!"
Lewis nodded, grabbed the back of Amir’s head, touched forehead to forehead and nose to nose.
"Goodbye, dude." He whispered.
Amir made a sound that might have been amusement and might have been frustration. Either way, he was smiling. "GO." he repeated.
Lewis finally obeyed him.
Down the corridor, down the ramp, through the common room, up the ramp. Xiù turned at the junction by engineering hatch. "Lewis come on!" she called.
He was halfway across the common area when something hit them, hard, and ripped a chunk out of Sanctuary’s living quarters the length of a shipping container. The destroyed section vanished in a whirl of air and pulverized metal, and only the millisecond timing of containment forcefields prevented the adjacent areas from decompressing… but they left Lewis trapped on the far side. He sprang to his feet, slapped the forcefield in frustration, then gesticulated back towards the lower decks, flipped them a salute and ran.
A second hit rocked them even harder than the first.
Xiù stared after him, praying silently that he’d make it, before remembering to pray that they would, too.
"Xiù! MOVE!" Allison’s desperate yell got through to her, and she scrambled upright. Julian was punching the door code with shaking fingers, missing the right keys, and Allison was fidgeting next to him. The gravity seemed to have gone wrong, and she felt like she was standing on a steep hill, which was probably why Julian and Allison were both holding on to the handrails.
Something smashed a hole straight through the ceiling and out the deck. Not a big hole. But one that killed their section’s power supply.
Without it the lighting, the gravity, and the atmospheric containment fields all failed, and that little hole got abruptly wider as all of their precious atmosphere tried to bully its way out.
It wasn’t a wind. Wind wasn’t an adequate word. Instead, the last sound those air molecules would ever carry was the rising howl of their own escape, and Xiù’s mortal shriek as the maelstrom decompression tore her loose and threw her toward infinity.
Concluded in Chapter 21, part 4 HERE
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2015.04.28 05:03 Detective_Lucy Under skirt hidden cam

Thanks for all the posts, everyone! Glad that Kimmy and I aren’t the only ones on the case. If you haven’t read it, here’s part 1. So a lot of crazy business has gone down, and it’s time to update all of you.
Saturday morning, I got up way earlier than I usually do. I got on my bike and sped over to Kimmy’s house after a couple of quick pop tarts and some OJ. I had already texted Kimmy, and she was up and full of coffee by the time I got there. Before I could even knock, Kimmy swung the door open with an excited smile. She held a steaming mug, and one of her brothers ran behind her, closely followed by Kimmy’s mom. Kimmy’s already pretty hyper as it is, but when she drinks coffee, it’s like a whole other level. She gets intensely focused. It’s actually pretty fun to watch.
After a quick hello to Kimmy’s mom and her little brothers, we went upstairs to Kimmy’s room. As soon as I closed the door, Kimmy pulled out some papers from her backpack.
“I have three classes with Brittany. Well, without Brittany, now. Anyway, this is the homework she’s missed. Now we have an excuse to check on her. Get some answers!”, Kimmy said as she handed me the papers. “Also, I installed a security camera at my window, monitoring Brittany’s house.”
I looked over at Kimmy’s window frame, a webcam taped to the bottom and facing Brittany’s house.
“Kimmy, that’s some top class detective work!”, I said, happily amazed.
“I know, right!”, Kimmy said as she sat down at her computer. She pulled up the program connected to the cam. She rewound quickly through the footage as she spoke. “No sign of Brittany ever since … that night. Her parents pop up like normal. Going to work. Getting the mail. Nothing out of the ordinary.” She shrugged as she looked back at me.
“Alright. No new clues… it’s time to get in there.”, I said, determined to find answers.
I rang the doorbell at Brittany’s house, then took a step back to stand beside Kimmy. After a moment or two, Brittany’s mom answered the door. She was tall and had the same beautiful blonde hair as Brittany, and a nice blazer with a skirt. She’s a real estate agent, I think. I heard she was a cheerleader back in school, which totally makes sense. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I guess. She gave us a polite smile.
“Hello girls. I’m already set with my magazine subscriptions this year, but thank you!”, she said, barely looking at us. She started to close the door and I put my hand on it.
“No ma’am, we go to school with Brittany. We just wanted to drop off all the homework she’s missed. See how she’s doing.”, I said, trying to keep my manners.
“Brittany? Oh, of course! Well, I’m afraid she’s not here, girls.”, she said like she had forgotten her daughter for a moment. “She’s in Portland with her grandmother. They have the very best clinic there.”
“It’s that bad? What exactly does she have?”, I asked.
“Do I look like a doctor, dear? That’s why she’s there and not here.”, she chuckled a little as she said it. “She’ll be perfectly fine. They’re probably running tests or diagnostics, or whatever it is they do, as we speak. No need to worry, girls.” She leaned over a bit and ruffled Kimmy’s hair. I could tell it really pissed Kimmy off, but she kept her composure.
“Here’s her homework, Mrs. Schroder.”, Kimmy said with half a sneer as she offered the papers. “Should I bring more over soon? Do you know how long she’ll be gone?” Good thinking, Kimmy.
“That won’t be necessary.”, Mrs. Schroder didn’t motion for them or even look at them. “Her education hasn’t skipped a beat. She’s being home schooled while she’s away.” She looked down at her gold watch. “Now I’m afraid that’s all the time I have to talk. I have some out of town buyers waiting for me. Have a blessed day, girls!” She gave us that same polite smile and walked past us to her SUV. We watched her drive off without a second glance to us. I felt like I had more questions than answers.
Monday at breakfast, Kimmy and I were eating together on the bleachers at the football field. We had gotten away from the crowds to formulate the next step in our investigation. I didn’t hurt that Ms. Linevich was running drills out on the field. We could observe her behavior some more.
“Well, Mrs. Schroder wasn’t a very big help.”, Kimmy said as she peeled off a piece of her string cheese slowly and took a bite.
“No, she wasn’t. How could you not know what’s wrong with your own daughter? We need more clues, Kimmy. Our interview with Brittany’s mom got us nowhere.”, I said as I stared across the field at Ms. Linevich. The coach was barking orders at the football players, a few of them in Russian. Like any of them knew what she was talking about.
Just then, Brad and Leo came running off the field and flopped onto the corner of the bleachers next to the gatorade cooler, not too far from us.
“Lin-a-Bitch is really hammering on us today.”, sighed Leo “I guess she’s just prepping us for the big game.”
“How are we gonna’ win without Thomas?”, Brad asked right before gulping down a whole cup of juice.
“It’s not like he’s any use to us while he’s sick. He’ll be back from that clinic they shipped him to any day now, and he’ll be just as badass as ever.”, Leo said, grabbing my full attention. Thomas was the star quarterback on the team. Handsome for sure, but a total meathead. Looks like he was missing too. Kimmy and I looked at each other when Leo mentioned the clinic. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. The two boys had another drink before switching to a new topic: how tight Beth’s new jeans were. I promptly stopped listening.
“You don’t think?”, Kimmy asked vaguely, already starting to take more notes in her composition journal.
“I do.”, I answered matter-of-factly. “Two kids missing, one is a cheerleader the coach was obsessing over, and the other is a star athlete on her team. We have to figure out how she’s connected to what’s happening.” I thought about it for a minute, then I figured out our next move. “I got it. The coach keeps her desk locked down like she was hiding gold in there. Today at lunch, while she’s running drills out here, I’ll sneak into her office and pick the lock on her desk. There’s got to be something in there that’ll blow this case wide open!”
“This isn’t like when you play Skyrim, Lucy. You can’t just pick a lock.”, Kimmy said with a condescending grin.
“I watched some tutorials on Youtube.”, I snapped back. “Doesn’t seem too difficult. Anyway, I’m going to need you to keep watch out here. You’ll have to text me if she starts heading back to the locker room early.”
Later that day, the lunch bell rang and we headed to our positions. I passed Kimmy on the way to the locker room. We didn’t say anything, but we nodded to each other discreetly. I felt like I was in an Robert Ludlam book. It was an awesome rush. With my set of pin and tumbler lock picks hidden in my backpack (any decent inspector keeps one on them), I descended the stairs at the end of the gym and down into the locker room. It was dark and damp, the only light creeping in through the tiny windows at the top of the walls. I could hear other kids shouting far away outside and the dripping of a showerhead. I made it to the end of the room, past the showers, and to the door to Ms. Linevich’s office. I knocked first, just in case. Nothing. I turned the knob, and it opened. Good, that would save me some time.
I poked my head through the door slowly, scanning the surroundings closely before finally stepping in. Everything was spotlessly clean, from the anatomy skeleton hanging in the corner, to the neatly arranged surface of her desk. I made my way quietly to the desk, even though I knew there was no one around to hear me anyway. Or at least, I hoped. I knelt down in front of the drawers, opting out of sitting on the seat. A woman who keeps everything this tidy might notice her chair being moved. I opened the first drawer. Just some pencils, pens, stationary. Nothing out of the ordinary, aside from how perfectly placed and clean it all was. I pulled at another drawer handle, but it didn’t budge. Here we go. I pulled the lock picking set out, thank you Amazon Prime. I went to work on the lock, and after a minute or two of precise work, it clicked open. I took a deep breath, then slowly pulled it open.
The first thing I noticed was how the light from the windows glimmered off a row of small jars in the drawer. I pulled it open all the way, at first unable to see what was in them. The glimmer faded and I could see everything. I was shocked at the sight. There was two rows of small jars, a square of neatly laid zip-lock bags, a neat pile of brochures for some resort or something, and four short stacks of clear plastic boxes. Each different container had some collection of human… things. One jar was full of tightly packed discarded tissues, snot and boogers clinging to them. The zip-locks held an array of different colored hair, one cascading neatly over the next. One of the tiny flat boxes stacked on top had what looked like dandruff flakes, or maybe dead skin flakes. I was disgusted, but horrifyingly intrigued. I pulled one of the jars out of the desk to take a closer look. It was filled with finger and toenail clippings, crusted and tumbling over each other as I turned the jar in the light. I wanted to throw up. Right at that moment, my phone blasted R2-D2’s whistle and beep three times in quick succession. I nearly dropped the jar, it startled me so much. I quickly placed it back and pulled my phone out. I had three new texts from Kimmy.
“Hey, I think they’re wrapping up. Better hurry.”
“Are you done yet? They’re starting to head back.”
“What’re you doing, Lucy? Get out of there!”
All three texts were marked a few minutes apart. Damn it, I thought, it must be my stupid service! I quickly put the jar back with the others, took a picture of the contents of the drawer with my phone, and closed it. Thank god it locked again when I shut it closed. She definitely would’ve noticed her drawer of horrors open. I jumped off my knees and ran out of the door, but closed it gently behind me. I dashed out of the locker room and towards the stairs to the gym. Just as I turned the corner, a flood of stinky football players rushed past me. I didn’t stop, I just wiggled past them and up the stairs. Right as I was about to climb the last step, there was the coach, standing in my way with her hands planted on her hips. I nearly bumped into her.
“Hello Lucy. What are you doing here on your lunch break?”, She asked in her thick accent.
“I forgot my Lactaid in my locker.”, I answered on the fly, not wanting to look up and make eye contact. “You know… for my lactose intolerance. We’re having cheese pizza and…” I finally looked up. Ms. Linevich was staring right into my eyes. She was even leaning over a bit, invading my personal space. Even if I hadn’t just seen the inside of her desk, it would’ve made me uncomfortable. Now, it was excruciating. “And you know… I don’t want to get killer gas.”
I held her gaze for what seemed like forever. I could feel the heat start to build under my skin and I was afraid I’d actually start sweating. Finally she leaned back and cocked a half smile.
“Run along then, Ms. Lucy. We would not want you to be sick and have you taken away.”, she said with the creepiest, toothiest smile I’ve ever seen on her. If I’ve ever seen her smile at all.
I didn’t want to be there another second, so I laughed hesitantly and jogged past her. I didn’t look back as I made my way to the exit of the gym, but I could feel her eyes on me. The rest of the day at school, I kept looking over my shoulder. Expecting to see her examining me, waiting for me to slip up and reveal what I know. Of course, I never did. But no matter what, I couldn’t shake that eerie feeling all day.
After school, Kimmy and I caught up on the bus back to our neighborhood. We whispered to each other at the back of the bus, Kimmy obviously freaked out by what I had to tell her. She said she’d do as much research as she could when she got home. I don’t know what she’ll find online, but I hope it helps. This case is getting weirder and weirder, and I really want to start getting some answers. Start putting the pieces together. So I rushed up to my room and to my computer, and here we are. I don’t know what our next move is, but I know I don’t feel safe at school now. If anyone has any ideas, I’m all ears. Detective Lucy, signing out for now.
Update
Hey everyone. Glad I still have some interested minds on the case. Here's the newest update in the case.
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2014.12.05 08:29 PeteCampbellisaG Under skirt hidden cam

It started on IMDB forums – the place where intelligent film discussion goes to die. Sure you could get one or two people to respond if you posted an interesting question or theory about a film. But what really got people going were spoilers. But you can't just put “DARTH VADER IS LUKE'S FATHER!!!,” or “WTF?!? VERBAL IS KEYSER SOZE!!” right in the subject line, that's too easy – plus these days the moderators will catch it first. What I've learned is that you have to trick people – start with a nice lead-in – the more academic the better. For example:
“...So I understood the film to be a decisive commentary on modern definitions of manhood, the way in which societal pressures and our own personal sense of manhood loop back on each other in a destructive cycle...Which is why I was so surprised when Edward Norton's character and Tyler Durden turned out to be the same person!”
You can drink the hatred. My favorite thing to do on a Friday night was to torrent a new release and suffer the poor quality CAM rip just so I could bombard message boards with all the juicy plot details. By Saturday morning my name would be on everyone's lips. By Sunday night they'd be sending me death threats. There were a million things people could be doing: sleeping with their girlfriends, taking care of their kids, learning a second language, doing their taxes – all that time would be gone and I was the one eating it up. The curses, the emails, even a few angry Vine videos, all directed at me. Taking people's time, no matter how little, felt like taking a piece of their lives. Like dropping a dollar in the street, it was mine and they could never get it back.
If you could channel the rage people felt when you told them Gwen Stacey dies in Spider-Man 2, or that the last episode of Lost made no sense, you could probably solve world hunger.
Then again, world hunger is boring.
I was in the park on MacBook, stealing WiFi from the coffee shop across the street and, creating a new user ID for JoBlo.com (I've been banned from hundreds of message boards and subreddits) when I noticed a man standing near the fountain. His was fidgeting around and wearing an unseasonably thick jacket. At first my mind flashed to the thought that he might be a shooter psyching himself up for a rampage. I imagined him pulling a twelve-gauge Mossberg out from under that coat and opening fire indiscriminately into the passing joggers.
That's when he took the ring box out of his pocket. He opened it just enough to peer inside, then shoved it back into his pocket, like looking at it too long might turn him to stone. Then he started pacing again, shuffling his feet like he was trying to wear a hole in the concrete.
I didn't put two and two together until I saw the woman coming. She wasn't very hot but she was made up well and had on a safe, conservative skirt suit. She was probably talking a lunch break from her office job. I watched her apprehension as she approached the guy. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but he was drawing closer to her.
When I saw his hand go into his pocket, the words came out of my mouth like a reflex. His knee hadn't even started to bend, but I shouted out loud enough that everyone in the park stopped cold:
“HE'S GOING TO ASK YOU TO MARRY HIM!!”
You can see a shooting star, a volcanic eruption, the Grand Canyon, or even a child being born, but nothing will ever come close to the beauty and splendor of that couple's face. The sting and the sweet awkward confusion – like a heavy metal guitar solo breaking out at a classic ballet. The man's entire body slumped like his bones had given up on him, his coat fell away, revealing the expensive tuxedo he'd hidden underneath. You could hear the woman's heart snap.
I'd meant to post spoilers on the new Tom Cruise actioner that night and the big twist in the latest Batman comic book arc, but I completely forgot. Thinking of that woman's tears and the stupid frustration on her fiance's face was like a warm bear blanket and a hot cup of milk.
I still dabble on message boards. Sure people get angry when you spoil the ending of the new Disney movie (and I'm sure kids cry) but no text, no matter how many exclamation points you put in it, can match the dull droop a man's face takes on when you tell his date he was at the same restaurant with another woman the previous night. Or the pure hatred that reddens a woman's face when you tell her you phoned her boyfriend about the surprise party you got invited to on Facebook.
Online people call me a troll. IRL I get called names that would shame the Devil.
I used to hate my job at the hospital. But now I can't believe how much opportunity I've wasted in the past. Nurse techs can go anywhere and it's easy to overhear things. Pregnancies, cancer diagnoses, surgery complications, even deaths could be revealed in a whisper by peeking your head into a hospital room.
I remember one particular family best. The father had had a heart attack. I overheard the ragged voices of doctors and staff as he flatlined in the ICU.
I found the family outside in the waiting room. They were all a bit overweight, just waiting their turn for a heart attack. They were huddled together like one big mass, sobbing all over each other with tears that probably tasted like gravy.
I'd gotten fired but it was worth it, the ceremonious bawling that broke out among them when I gave them was orgasmic.
I've been following this woman home from Trader Joe's regularly for about five weeks now. I didn't pick her for any particular reason. But there's something about a woman in Lululemons.
She's pretty fit, carrying three bags worth of veggies and bottled water, but I'm used to being on my feet. Once a week she makes her grocery run, walks about a quarter mile, then finally rounds a corner and takes a walkup to an apartment building. I linger behind long enough for her to disappear inside, then sprint for all I'm worth to catch the door before it closes.
The inside is a long hallway of doors – scummy carpet that should've been replaced ten years ago. The first time I couldn't tell which of the dozen or so evenly spaced doors she went inside at first, but as I walk the hall I heard rustling behind an apartment door ‑ paper grocery bags being crumpled up.
She'll be going for groceries again this weekend. This time I'm going to get up the nerve. I'm going to take a chance and knock. I got pretty close to her in Trader Joe's last time. Up close she's shorter than I thought and a good five to ten years older. I had her pegged for early twenties but she's got the sun dried face of someone almost twice that age – damn those Lululemons.
I can already see it. She'll open the door. Maybe she'll think I'm some sort of delivery man because of the overalls I wear. Maybe she'll even give me a friendly smile. I'll wonder how many people are lucky enough to see that smile every day.
I barely know her voice, but I can hear it so clearly in my head as she sticks her head of her apartment.
“Can I help you?”
She'll look at me with her soft narrow eyes. The same ones she looks at all of her friends and family with.
And this time she'll be talking to me. I can already feel my fist white knuckle around the kitchen knife I'll have in my pocket.
I feel my face tightening into a wide grin, imagining searching through the contacts on her phone, finding her friends on Facebook. Maybe she even has a Twitter or an Instagram where she posts selfies of herself in her yoga pants. Maybe she has a boyfriend or fiance who'll be stopping by.
So many people. I can't wait.
I can't wait to tell them how this one ends.
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