Five letter word ending in ain

(I did not use a location flair as I live in a very small town and would like to remain relatively anonymous.)
I’m an experienced software developer (just over 20 years) and I currently have 3 job offers. Two are remote and one is local. The local offer is at a company I used to work at and have a very good relationship with them. All 3 offers are comparable in terms of pay, benefits, retirement, etc.
Job #1 (remote) is with a company that appears to have an excellent company culture. The descriptions of how they do employee development, flexing into multiple roles as interests change or needs arise, opportunities to lead, etc. are all very interesting. They even shared the interview notes with me to show how impressed everybody was with my interview. I get a strong impression they like me a lot and really want me on their team.
Job #2 (remote) is for a smallish subsidiary of a large conglomerate. The work is very interesting. Sounds challenging, lots to learn, very good processes in place, and smart people to work with. The offer is exactly what I asked for.
Job #3 (local) is my former employer. I left on very good terms and when word got out I was looking for work my old boss texted me. I also got a text from some others in the company. The work is less interesting than the other offers, but I feel like I have enough credibility and trust to have a large amount of autonomy.
I vacillate between job #1 and job #3. I think job #1 has more interesting work in the near term, but I am concerned that long term I may not be able to be in a strong leadership position once I reach the level of knowledge and expertise in their products and processes as a remote worker.
Job #3 is a known quantity. The amount of interest in having me return is flattering. But I did leave for a reason, and I fear I may end up in that space again. The work is interesting and the autonomy is attractive.
I’m not looking for answers, but perspective, perhaps questions I should ask myself and/or the companies to help narrow the selection.
One final thing is on salary. All offers are giving what I asked. Pay, vacation, etc. I thought perhaps asking for more pay to separate things, but I fear it would appear greedy and could make things challenging when I start.

"Think of this as a chance at revenge," Sweeney said.
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Revenge.
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What a moronically quaint idea.
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This jumped up little shit had come into my home, interrupted my retirement and here he was talking to me about revenge, as if he knew the first thing about what I’d seen, what I’d been through, why I’d quit.
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Looking into his eyes, I knew he didn’t understand. I knew he couldn’t.
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I've been hunting vampires for most of my life. I've killed more of them than I can count. But Clementine Di Cesare was no ordinary vampire. Hell, none of the Di Cesares were ordinary vampires, but even among them Clementine was… unique. She was the one all the others quietly feared. The one who was even spoken of with reverence by the Di Cesares masters, those twin Immortals who could not be killed by any weapon of this world. Seeking revenge against her was like seeking revenge against death itself.
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“Revenge?” I repeated, with a dismissive scoff.
“You’re really going to tell me that after what she put you through, you don’t want revenge?” Sweeney asked.
“If you knew what she did to me, you’d know why I don’t want revenge,” I replied.
“Really? Sorry Franklin, but I don’t buy that. Look, I get it if you’re reluctant to jump back into the fight. I do. You of all people know just how dangerous the Di Cesare’s are. Especially ‘La Morte’.”
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I looked over at him as he said that name. It rolled off his tongue so irreverently. To him, it was just a name. An alias assigned to some vampire he’s only heard of stories. He didn’t utter it with the respect it deserved, and I almost couldn’t be bothered to correct him. Any words spent on this small minded glory hound were probably wasted.
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“Yes, I do know.”
“Which is why I need you,” Sweeney said. He almost sounded as if he were pleading with me. “Think of this as an opportunity to set things right… to put that vampire bitch in the ground where she belongs, and save God only knows how many lives in the process!”
I sighed.
He just didn’t get it.
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“Mark my words, Mr. Sweeney, if you chase after Clementine Di Cesare, you’ll end far more lives than you save. She didn’t get a name like ‘La Morte’ for nothing. She earned it. Purchased it with the blood of the tens of thousands she’s sent screaming into the maw of Hell. She is not something you chase, Sweeney.”
“She’s a vampire,” Sweeney said dismissively. “She’s another enemy to destroy.”
“That’s what George Bundy said,” I replied. “Then not too long after, he died.”
“I’m not George Bundy,” Sweeney said.
“No. You sure as hell ain’t,” I agreed, before looking the kid in the eye.
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He thought he was an up and comer, climbing the ranks of the Brethren. He probably thought of himself as some sort of badass vampire hunter too, when in reality he could never have so much as dreamed of holding a candle to the likes of Bundy… or hell, any of the men who’d died in Brazil.
“You should watch your tone with me,” Sweeney warned.
“Or you’ll do what?” I asked, “You ain’t going to frighten me with vague threats, boy. I’ve walked through Hell, trying to kill the Devil. What have you done?”
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Sweeney bit his lip but didn’t respond.
“There’s nothing you can say or do that will intimidate me,” I said, before lighting myself a cigarette. I stared at the road outside of my porch, old memories flooding back to me before looking over at Sweeney again. He sat in his chair beside me like a sulky child. This was the man who wanted to destroy the Di Cesare family? Pathetic.
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“Exactly how much do you know about the Brazil Job?” I asked.
“I know it was a failure. Clementine Di Cesare killed most of the men the Brethren sent out… all except for you. You were the only one good enough to beat her.”
“Good enough…” I repeated with a huff, “Hardly… whatever picture you’ve got in your head of some glorified battle, throw it away. Trust me, the Brazil Job was anything but glorious. It was a two hour long trek through Hell. And I didn’t beat Di Cesare at the end of it. I survived her. They’re two different things entirely.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Sweeney said.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” I sighed and took another drag on my cigarette.
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This kid wasn’t going to leave until I made him understand… so I told him my story. I told him everything even though I knew he’d learn nothing from it.
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***
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I’d joined up with the Brethren Knights of St. Fontaine back in the 1980s to hunt monsters. Back then, it seemed like the best use of my skills. I’d done my tours with the army, but even after I got out, I was still looking for an enemy to fight. So naturally, once I found out that vampires were real, I set my sights on them. It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the time.
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The Brethren Knights fancied themselves the descendants of the Knights Templar, and they insisted that their God given mission was to protect mankind from the things that lurked in the shadows. I didn’t really have much love for God at the time, but if the Bretheren were the ones fighting the monsters, then I was happy to tolerate the Jesus freaks in their ranks.
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It was 1988 when we first heard whispers of the Imperium. A supposed cabal of vampires, trying to get them organized. At the time, it’d seemed too crazy to be true. Vampires generally went their own way, in my experience. At most, they might have a partner but other than they they didn’t really socialize with their own kind. But supposedly someone out there had the big fucking balls to keep them in line, and whoever they were, they scared the shit out of the Brethren.
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They’d started targeting high profile vampires, trying to find someone who was involved in this ‘Imperium’, hoping that maybe they might get someone to talk. And it wasn’t long until they found someone who did.
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From my understanding, the vampire they captured didn’t seem to know much about who was actually running the show. But they knew who their second in command was… and that was when I first head about the Di Cesare family.
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The name was familiar to some of the higher ups in the Brethren, and I’d heard some stories. Not sure which were true, but the long and short of it was that the Di Cesare’s and the Brethren shared a bloody history, and didn’t particularly like each other too much.
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George Bundy explained it to me like this at one point: ‘The Di Cesare’s are an old family. Most of them used to be witches, up until their Matriarch turned them into vampires. Now they’re a whole new kind of nasty. Far as I know, the only time anyone’s actually managed to kill one was about 200 years ago. Anyone who’s tried since has ended up dead, so most folks don’t even bother anymore.’
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I guess it shouldn’t have been surprising they’d be involved in the Imperium, but the mere mention of their name ruffled some feathers higher up on the chain of command, and eventually they put out a kill order on them. Most of the Di Cesare’s were generally pretty hard to track down, but the top brass had a pretty good line on their matriarch, Bianca Di Cesare. Supposedly, she’d been spotted near the family’s private estate in Brazil and rumor had it that most of her daughters were there too.
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Normally, the brass wouldn’t have sanctioned any kind of attack on them. The Di Cesare’s were already considered off limits, and attacking them at their private estate was considered damn near impossible. The estate was located in a small mining town outside of Manaus called Refugio de Julia, or just Julia for short. The town was fairly remote, being only accessible from a few backroads and most folks tended to avoid it, claiming they’d had various strange encounters in the area. Their accounts described unsettling pale figures with dark hair and large green eyes working in the mines, although some of the more disturbing stories we heard involved sightings of other creatures in the jungle surrounding the town. Massive spiders with humanoid faces, tending rotting corpses filled with stinging bees, giant howling beasts who tore through the forest, hunting prey, and beautiful women who would appear in the nearby towns, betwitching men into coming away with them only to reveal themselves as monsters who fed on the blood of their victims. Some had even claimed the Di Cesares themselves were such beasts… although those claims weren’t taken quite as seriously.
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A skeptic might say the stories that surrounded Julia seemed like little more than just local superstition… but the Brethren had been dealing with the supernatural for long enough to recognize when something was probably real, and when it was probably fake and they knew damn well that most of the stories about Julia were probably true. None of them had ever dared set foot in Julia to find out for sure, since doing so would probably be suicide, but the theory was that the Di Cesares had created Julia as something of a refuge for other creatures. Other vampires, werewolves, arachne, karah and all sorts of other hellspawn. They offered them a home and safety in exchange for their labor in the mines. Hell, the name of the town more or less spelled it out.
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Refugio de Julia
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Julia’s Haven.
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Julia had been the name of the only member of the Di Cesare family that the Brethren had ever killed, so I guess it was only fitting they named the town after her.
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I honestly think using other creatures like them as a workforce was a bit inspired… since it made Julia damn near impenetrable. Reaching their estate at the far side of the town would have been impossible without being noticed by every creature of hell living in that town, and odds are they’d tear anyone apart long before they even reached the gates of the Di Cesare estate. And if one had the bright idea to approach the estate from another angle, they’d be trudging through miles and miles of rainforest to do so, only end up face to face with a massive stone wall that kept the rainforest out.
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In effect - the Di Cesare estate was a fortress. Getting in would be no easy feat, to say nothing of confronting the vampires within. But with the fear of the Imperium gnawing at the back of their minds, the Brethren had finally set their minds to trying.
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George Bundy had been the one in charge of planning the operation out.
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I’d known Bundy before I’d joined up with the Brethren. Hell, Bundy was the whole reason I’d joined the Brethren. He’d been my CO a number of years back, and he’d earned his reputation as a hardass just about ten or twenty times over. Bundy was a gruff looking man with a bushy moustache and intense eyes. During the years I knew him, I don’t believe I ever once saw him so much as crack a smile. He only ever seemed to speak when he felt there was something he needed to say. Otherwise, he was usually dead silent.
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He was somewhere in his late fifties back in 88. By all rights, he ought to have retired years ago. But he refused.
“I’m a soldier,” He said, when I asked him about it once. “That’s all I am. I don’t know what else to be.”
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Bundy’s initial plan had been to hit the Di Cesare estate from the air. Come in fast and loud with a couple of helicopters and see how those vampires stood up to some good old American flak. The idea got shot down pretty quickly, so to speak. Apperantly, most if not all of the Di Cesares had cursed their own bodies, causing whatever wound one inflicted on them to appear on whoever it was who had wounded them. Going in guns blazing would have ended in a bloodbath… and not for them. There were also some concerns about drawing attention from Julia. With no conclusive data on just what they had living in that town, there was no guarantee we’d be safe in the air. A few eyewitnesses had described seeing giant nests in some of the trees in the jungle, supposedly consistent with the nests made by harpies.
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Flying in guns blazing was out. So Bundy went back to the drawing board and what he came back with… well, it was ballsy, but it almost seemed like it just might work. During his reconnisance of the Di Cesare’s estate, he’d noticed a large but shallow tributary flowing into the amazon river that led right through the Di Cesare’s estate. Along the tributary was an abandoned water mill, that connected to the Di Cesare estate.
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He’d suggested using the water mill to gain entry to the grounds, and from there, move on the Di Cesare’s. That plan had been approved, and Bundy had been allowed to handpick his team for the operation. He’d chosen fifteen men, all of them ex military, most of them having served under him before.
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He’d told us we would be dividing into three teams of five men each. We would leave Manaus by boat, and land at three different areas near the tributary before making our way to the mill on foot, where we would regroup, before moving on the Di Cesares. The reason for the division was to ensure that if any of our teams ran into trouble upon making ground, the entire operation wouldn’t be compromised.
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Team 1, led by Bundy himself would depart first and land to the west of the tributary. Team 2, led by a man named Ferdinand Hernandez would make land about fifteen minutes later near the mouth of the tributary and Team 3, to be led by me would land fifteen minutes later to the east.
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On the day of the operation, I sat in my boat, watching as the other two left. It was twilight when we set out, and I remember that as my team and I carried out our final checks on our equipment, the only thing I felt was a familiar anticipation.
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I’d hesitate to call it fear. Fear is what came later. Anticipation is the better word. I knew we could be walking into a tough situation… but I trusted Bundy. I trusted he’d run a smooth op. God knew, he’d done it a thousand times before.
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The team assigned to me wasn’t anything particularly special. They were competent enough, but none of them would’ve been my first choices. Jack McMullen, for instance, who was about the same age as I was at the time. We’d both served under Bundy before, although while I respected Bundy, Jack was wholly devoted to him. I swear, if the man had told him to stuff a live grenade up his ass, Jack would’ve done it without a moments hesitation. I dunno if Jack simply saw him as the father he’d never had or what, but he damn near worshipped Bundy.
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I can’t quite say the same for the other guys we had with us, though. One of them, some greenhorn by the name of Pearce Wilson struck me as an airheaded pretty boy who’d never actually had his boots on the ground before, while the other one, Scott Barber had left a bad taste in my mouth last time we’d worked together. Barber was capable… but he was violent. This was a kid with a hell of a chip on his shoulder, and it looked a hell of a lot like that Confederate flag patch he wore on his jacket. He wanted an excuse to shoot something, and I don’t think he cared what. Under most circumstances I’m not sure I would’ve fully trusted him with a gun.
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The last one though, Joseph Feng… him I trusted. Feng was the one I knew the least about, and he didn’t seem much for conversation. But he handled himself competently enough and seemed to know when to sit down and shut up.
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When Team 2’s boat was far enough away, we got the radio signal to follow. Barber was the one steering the boat, so I gave him the order to cast off and we ventured out into the twilight, unaware of just what was waiting for us out there.
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***
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We landed in our designated area fifteen minutes after Team 2 confirmed they’d touched down at theirs. Our landing was fairly uneventful. Feng, Barber, and I secured the boat before we radio’d Bundy to let him know we were in position. After that, it was just a matter of making it to the tributary.
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As we ventured into the jungle, the world around us was quiet. There was wind, the whisper of the river behind us, and the sounds of animals. But little else. The river fell away behind us as we moved in single file toward the tributary, maintaining radio silence as we did.
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It was about a half hour before we heard the gunshot.
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Just one, echoing through the twilight. But it was enough to give us pause.
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“The fuck was that?” I heard Barber ask. Immediately, the kid was on high alert, with his gun raised as if he were expecting every monster in Julia to come charging at us from all angles.
I just listened, waiting to hear if there was anything else. I half expected my radio to come to life, but it didn’t.
“Team 1, status?” I asked.
The radio crackled with static, but there was no response.
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I tried it again, but still with no success. The radio was working, that much I was sure of. Something had to be blocking the signal.
“What’s going on?” Feng asked.
“Dunno,” I replied. “Comms are down.”
“Down?” Wilson asked, “So we’re flying blind out here, then?”
“More or less,” I replied.
“What do we do? Do we go back… if the comms are down…”
“Just because something’s jamming our signal doesn’t mean we’re made,” I said. “Relax. We keep moving for now. You keep your eyes wide open, and your head on a swivel. We’ll make it to the tributary and see if we can’t meet up with the other teams.”
I could tell Wilson wasn’t a fan of my answer, but I didn’t much care. We had a job to do, and I aimed to do it.
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I pressed on without a further word and the others followed. Up ahead, I could hear the sound of running water and picked up the pace. I figured the tributary had to be close… and I was right.
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I emerged from the brush into the stream, only to pause when I saw what was waiting for us in the water.
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In the dying sunlight, it was impossible to mistake the bodies sprawled out on the rocks as anything else… and all I needed to do was look at their uniforms to know they were our people.
“Jesus…” I heard Wilson say under his breath. He froze up, lingering by the bank as I cautiously approached one of the bodies.
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It belonged to a somewhat heavyset man with a thin mustache who I recognized as Hernandez. His eyes were still open, although lifeless and staring in different directions, and there was a clean hole in his forehead where a bullet had ended his life. The gunshot we’d heard earlier had likely been the sound of his death.
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Looking at the bodies around him, I knew they had to be the rest of Team 2… although it was a little harder pinning down their cause of death. Some sort of bladed weapon, perhaps, judging by the state of them. I realized the odds were that they walked into some sort of ambush.
“What about Bundy and Team 1?” Jack asked, “Any sign of them?”
“No,” I said. “These bodies are all from Team 2… Bundy could still be ahead of us.”
“Then we need to keep going!”
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Jack turned, heading up the stream and Barber was right behind him. Feng paused for a moment, thinking this over before following. Only Wilson remained.
“How do we know we’re not walking into a trap?” He asked.
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it,” I said before moving to follow the others.
“With all due respect, Sarge… that doesn’t sound like the best course of action!” Wilson argued, finally following me. “It sounds just like a good way to get killed!”
“Yeah?” I asked, “I’m gonna tell you an ugly truth, kid. That’s the job. Make your peace with it, and it’ll go a lot easier.”
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Wilson didn’t like that answer either and trailed off behind me, watching as I continued upstream. For a moment, I half expected him to go back to the boat… but no. I dunno if he found his balls or just didn’t want to get left behind, but he started to follow us again.
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I kept trying to raise Team 1 on the radio while we walked, although I still had no luck. The light above us slowly faded into darkness as we trudged through the water in silence, guns sitting comfortably in our hands and mosquitos biting at our necks.
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It wasn’t until we lost Feng that I heard anybody so much as make a sound, and when we lost Feng… it happened almost instantaneously. One minute, he was at the head of the group, walking just ahead of Jack and I. The next, he was gone, only barely having the time to let out a scream as he fell into the river ahead of us.
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The rest of us paused. Jack seemed to freeze and I pushed past him, calling out for Feng as I did. As punishment for my compassion, I almost went down after him. I only barely stopped myself from stepping on the slippery rocks that had helped send him to his demise.
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I could see Feng’s body in the water, and I could see the blood pouring out of him. He twitched a few times, but I knew he was dead. The sharpened wooden spikes jutting out of him confirmed as much.
“What the hell…” Jack said under his breath, staring at Feng’s corpse in disbelief. “That’s a fucking spike trap!”
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Yeah.
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It was indeed a fucking spike trap.
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I could see other spikes jutting out of the water ahead of us, just past a small dam of rocks that were just slippery enough to make it difficult to stop yourself from falling. Some of those spikes had other bodies on them… likely members of Team 1. I only counted two, although that still didn’t exactly bode well.
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“They put a fucking spike trap in the goddamn stream…” Jack said, “Who the hell does that?”
“Somebody who’s expecting us to use the stream,” I replied.
“So they know we’re coming?” Barber asked.
“Clearly…” I replied. “And they’ve got a good idea on what our route is too.”
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“Yeah, no shit!” Barber snapped. “Christ… let’s get the fuck out of here. There’s probably more fucking traps upstream!”
“Bundy’s orders were clear!” Jack argued.
“Bundy’s probably dead by now!” Barber replied, before looking at me. “Sarge, come on. You have to know this is suicide!”
“Suicide was part of the job description, was it not?” I asked.
“The job is to kill those fucking vampires, not to die in the goddamn process! We need to get out of the stream and into the woods!”
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“Judging by the fate Team 2 met, I’m not sure the forest is someplace we want to be right now,” I replied.
“Excuse me?” Barber asked, “What the hell are you talking about, Sarge?”
“Five men dead, but only one gunshot. How did the rest die?”
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Barber didn’t seem to be able to answer that.
“By now… yes. It’s clear we’ve walked into a trap. And yes, I understand that it makes sense to try and leave that trap… but I don’t know if we’ll be safer in the jungle. Something jumped Team 2. Cut them apart, and then shot Hernandez as a warning. They didn’t have to shoot him. They did it so we’d hear.”
“Your point being?” Barber asked.
“I don’t think this is just a trap, Barber. It’s a game. Stop playing, and you might just end up like our friends downstream.”
“A game?” Wilson asked, “Sarge, you can’t be serious!”
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“From where I’m standing, we have a better chance of surviving in the stream,” I said. “Look, we’re at least halfway to the rendezvous point, and there have to be at least two members of Team 1 left. The safest thing to do right now is to follow them.”
“You’re off your fucking rocker, Sarge,” Barber spat, locking his eyes with mine. For a moment, I thought the boy was going to try and fight me. But no. He was wise enough to stand down.
“If you wanna get yourself killed, go right the fuck ahead. Just leave me out of it! Wilson, come on,” Barber said before trudging over to the edge of the stream. Wilson didn’t even hesitate, just looking back at Jack and I quietly before he disappeared into the forest with Barber.
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“You’re not gonna stop them?” Jack asked.
“No,” I replied. “God willing, there’s a chance that pigheaded asshole is right… dunno how much of a chance, but a chance.”
“Then how come we’re not following him?” Jack asked.
“There’s also a chance he’s wrong.”
I turned, before making my way around the spike trap.
“Keep a slower pace,” I said. “Watch for traps.”
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Jack hesitated for a moment, but he followed me without any further questions and we walked in silence for a little longer.
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We heard nothing from the trees. Nothing that told us about the fate of Barber and Wilson. I wasn’t sure if that was good news or not.
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In fact, I don’t think we heard a thing until about a half hour later, when we heard the explosion.
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It came out of almost nowhere, but ahead of us I could see a flash of light and hear the screams of men. On instinct, I found myself picking up the pace and could hear Jack behind me. In the low light, I saw a shape float past me in the stream. It took me a moment to realize that it was a severed human arm.
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In the water ahead of us, I could see a figure clinging to one of the rocks and trying to pick himself up. I recognized him as George Bundy.
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Jack was at his side almost immediately, trying to help the old man to his feet.
“Sir! Are you alright?”
Bundy just wheezed, before his legs gave out from under him. I helped Jack drag him to the shore so he could sit and rest for a moment.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, looking back at the stream.
“Grenade trap… I think…” Bundy panted, “Fucking tripwire… Popkov tripped it, I think…”
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Popkov… odds are he was one of the two mangled corpses lying in the river a few feet away from us. It seemed they’d taken the brunt of the explosion, although Bundy still had some shrapnel in his arm that Jack was tending to.
“Christ… whole fucking ops gone to shit…” Bundy spat. “Team 2 got taken out just about as soon as they landed. Someone killed them and dumped them in the goddamn river. Lost half my boys to the fucking spike trap and half to this…”
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He looked up at us, before spitting onto the ground.
“Guess you two haven’t done much better.”
“Hard to say,” I replied. “Two of ours took off into the woods, trying to avoid the traps.”
“Then they’re dead,” Bundy replied. “I’ve seen her watching us… always just up ahead, always from a distance… she’s seeing how far we’ll go. How much we’ll take…”
“She?” I asked.
“La Morte. Should’ve figured she’d be the one to greet us.”
“La Morte?” I asked.
​
“It’s Italian. Supposedly, she earned that name around the time the Di Cesares fled Venice. It’s funny, the Brethren like to act like the Di Cesares leaving Venice was some big victory of theirs, since before they did, they finally killed one of them… hard to call it a victory though, considering how many corpses they made before they fled. And most of them came from La Morte…”
Bundy winced in pain as Jack bandaged his arm before he continued talking.
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“See… when the Di Cesare’s left Venice, one of them stayed behind. Clementine, the Scorpio sister. Guess she was unwilling to leave the fight unfinished… and according to the stories, the death toll she personally amassed in the years after the Di Cesare’s left Venice make the bodies they claimed during the Venetian Massacre a hundred and fifty years prior look like a pittance. The Brethren still occupying the city started to call her La Morte. Death. Cuz wherever she went, death followed in her wake… and it seems we’ve walked right into her open arms, haven’t we, boys?”
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“You’re sure it’s her?” I asked.
“She’s a Di Cesare… and the shit we’ve seen out here… I don’t see any other Di Cesare setting those traps. It’s her. I’m sure of it. She’s watching us. Seeing how far we’ll go. Seeing if we’ll turn tail…”
“Should we?” Jack asked, and Bundy finally seemed to acknowledge him.
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“Should we? Look, sir… I’d follow you into the mouth of Hell, but right now, we’re down from fifteen men to three. Can’t say I’m optimistic about our chances right now. If this woman is half as bad as you’re saying she is, maybe it’s time we took a step back!”
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Jack looked at me, hoping I might back him up, but I remained silent.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Bundy asked.
“What I’m hearing here, is that as of right now, the vampire out there could kill us at any time. She hasn’t. Far as I’m concerned, that’s mercy. Maybe we should be taking it while it’s offered.”
Bundy stared at him, before chuckling. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh.
​
“Just walk away, then?” He asked.
“Walk away, and come back better prepared!” Jack corrected.
“Walk away,” Bundy said again. “We walk away now, and there won’t be a chance to come back better prepared. We get one shot at this. One. Failure is not an option. We go in there and we kill them or we die. End of discussion.”
“And how exactly are we even supposed to kill them?” Jack asked, “That curse they have… bullets aren’t gonna do shit, sir!”
“Yours won’t, mine will…”
Bundy pulled his pistol from his holster. I noticed some sort of pattern crudely engraved on it.
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“I’ve been doing some research… studied the curse they put on themselves… and I think I’ve found a way to break it. Not sure if it’ll work yet… but we get one chance to test it.”
Jack stared at the gun, then back at Bundy.
“Sir… do you hear yourself?” He asked quietly, “You can’t be serious… right now, even with that gun we don’t stand a chance in he-”
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The gunshot echoed through the forest and made me jump. Jack’s voice died in his throat as he hit the ground.
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Bundy stared at him for a moment, before huffing and holstering his pistol again. He draped his coat over his shoulders, before looking over at me.
“No room for failure, Frank,” He said calmly.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I stared down at Jack’s body, my mouth hanging open slightly. When I looked back at Bundy, he was already back in the stream.
​
There was a tense silence between Bundy and I as I followed him along the final stretch of the tributary. He trudged on ahead, covered in sweat and straining with every step, but I could sense the quiet determination he had to see this through. Looking at him, you could’ve told me that George Bundy could wipe out the Di Cesare’s all by himself and I would have believed it in a second.
​
The night around us was full of sound, and each one drew my attention. I watched the forest, expecting to see some sign of La Morte watching us. But I saw nothing, except for what she wanted me to see.
“Mill’s just up ahead,” I heard Bundy say as we pressed on, although I noticed his steps faltering as he seemed to notice something in the trees above us. I stopped behind him, looking up before seeing what he saw, and when I saw it I felt my stomach turn.
​
I’d seen death before.
But what Di Cesare had left out for us… that was something else.
Pearce Wilson and Scott Barber weren’t dead.
But if they could have spoke, I’ve got no doubt they would have begged us to kill them. Wilsons pretty face was covered in blood and his pouty lips were parted as more trickled out of him. His curly blond hair was matted and I could see crimson there. Tree branches portruded from his ribs, while the loops of his entrails dangled out of his opened stomach. And Barber was in just about the same state, only he seemed to at least have the ability to turn his head to look at us.
​
I think he might have tried to speak, but the only sound he seemed to be able to make was a pained whimper.
“Jesus Christ…” I said softly.
“He had nothing to do with this,” Bundy replied. He took one last look at the two dying men hanging from the trees, before moving on.
“We should put them out of their misery, sir,” I said.
​
Bundy paused, before looking back at me.
“Don’t waste the ammo, Frank,” He replied. “They’re already dead.”
“Not yet they’re not!”
“Give them time. They chose to go into the woods. They can live with the consequences… for however long that lasts.”
​
With that, he left them. If I were a more compassionate man, I would have put them out of their misery. But no. Bundy moved on and so did I.
​
He approached the water mill, before examining it. It was an old building, made of stone that had long since been overgrown by moss, and sat right on the wall that separated the Di Cesares estate from the amazon. It hardly looked secure, even if the only entrance hadn’t just been an old wooden door secured with a padlock, finding a way in wouldn’t have been difficult. And it didn’t take much for Bundy to break through that door. All he needed was a couple of well placed kicks and it swung right open.
​
Drawing his gun, Bundy strode inside and I followed him.
“The Di Cesare’s will be in the main house,” He said. “We should find a way in through the back, try and catch them off guard. Main target should be the matriarch, Bianca. Her we should prioritize keeping alive… the rest are expendable.”
​
“Much as you are, I’m sure.” A voice called from deeper in the mill, and both Bundy and I froze.
I noticed movement on the floor above us, and through the shadows, I saw a tall woman watching us. She was dressed all in black, with blond hair tied back in a ponytail and the intense eyes of a soldier.
​
This had to be Clementine Di Cesare.
​
Bundy aimed his pistol at her, although she only barely seemed to notice.
“Only two of you left… I’m not sure the odds are in your favor,” The woman said. Her voice was low, calm and quiet.
“Only one way to find out,” Bundy growled.
“And only one way to walk out of this place alive,” Di Cesare countered. “You can put the gun down, turn and walk away. I won’t stop you. There’s no shame in living.”
​
“All the bodies you’ve left in your wake… that’s rich,” Bundy said.
“I don’t relish what I’ve done. I simply don’t know how to do anything else,” She replied. “Think about this, Bundy. Over my lifetime, there have been countless thousands who have come to kill me. All of them are dead, but I am not. Even if you could kill me… you could not kill my sisters. Not all of them. Not before they came for you.”
“Just you, would be enough…” Bundy said, before pulling the trigger.
​
I knew he’d hit her. I knew the bullet pierced her shoulder. But that woman… she didn’t even flinch. She simply dove out of the way before he could shoot again, taking cover and avoiding his next shot.
“Frank, upstairs!” Bundy snapped, “Flush her out!”
I went, trudging up the old wooden steps with my rifle drawn. Only to see Di Cesare vaulting over the railing and back down to the ground floor as soon as I made it up there.
​
Bundy shot at her again, only to miss for a second time. I saw Di Cesare’s arm move, and heard him cry out in pain. In the low light, I could see a dagger protruding from his shoulder. He stumbled back a step, leaving himself open for only a split second.
​
That second was all it took for Di Cesare to raise her own gun and fire just one shot.
​
George Bundy hit the ground without so much as a final scream. There was just a simple hole in his skull where she had shot him.
​
I felt my heart start to race faster. My eyes settled on Bundy’s gun, and I ran for the railing, vaulting it and dropping to the ground below with a thud. Di Cesare shot at me, and I felt the bullet tear through my leg. I reached out for the fallen gun and grabbed it before turning it on Di Cesare, only to find myself staring down the barrel of her own pistol. My finger rested on the trigger, but I didn’t have the guts to pull it.
​
"Kill me, and you will not see the sun tomorrow." She said, her voice still cold and calm.
“Killing you is part of the job…” I replied, but my finger still couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
“And is it worth your life?” Di Cesare asked. “You fail your mission either way.”
“And die with some goddamn honor…”
“There’s no such thing as honor. There is alive and there is dead. Choose.”
​
I knew what I was supposed to choose.
​
But my hands were shaking, as I stared into the face of death. My finger couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
​
The gun collapsed to the floor and Di Cesare kicked it away from me, before huffing and lowering her gun.
“Do not return,” She said softly. “Or next time, I will unleash a hell upon you that will make you beg for simple traps.”
​
She picked Bundy’s gun up off the ground, and then she was gone. After I finally picked myself up off the ground, I was gone too.
​
As I walked back along the stream… I passed the corpses of the men we’d left behind. Barber and Wilson, Jack, Feng, Hernandez, and his team. The flies were already feasting on them. Animals had already torn at them. And as I looked down at their cold corpses, I knew I had made the right choice.
​
I filed my report with the Brethren. Told them that Di Cesare had wiped us out, and a few months later I quietly retired. I never looked back.
​
***
​
“You walked away from her?” Sweeney asked in disbelief, “You had her dead to rights and you walked away from her?”
“I chose to live,” I replied. “Can’t say I regret the decision either. Because of the choice I made, I met my wife and had my kids. I’ve lived the life I had because I chose not to throw it away on some vampire.”
​
Sweeney just shook his head.
“You could have gotten the first confirmed kill on a Di Cesare in two centuries, and you threw it away you fucking coward! I could execute you for that!” I noticed his hand hovering over the gun on his hip.
“You could.” I replied, before quietly unholstering the pistol I kept at my side. I aimed it at Sweeney’s head.
​
He stared at me like a slack jawed idiot.
“Would you like to give it a try?”
“W-what…?”
“Would you like to give it a try, Mr. Sweeney? Or would you like to see the sun tomorrow?”
He stared down the barrel of my gun, and I already knew what his choice would be.
​
Sweeney took a step back. I saw his hand move away from his holster, and I lowered the gun with a huff.
“Thought so,” I said.
Mr. Sweeney left me without another word.
I knew he would not return.

Fiction writers: You've written and revised your manuscript as best you can. Next up? The developmental edit.
I work with writers of fantasy, sci-fi, speculative fiction, and similar genres providing detailed marginal comments and a comprehensive letter summarizing my feedback with actionable steps and suggestions to improve the big picture issues affecting your manuscript.
​

"I’ve worked with editors before who helped revise my work and sent me on my way. It felt more like a transaction than actual guidance. Kayleigh is so much more than that." - Danielle G. Read more kudos here.

​
Learn more about my experience, style, and how I can help turn your draft into a strong manuscript at www.editsinthemargins.com.
Developmental editing rates for fiction start at $0.035 per word. For those not ready to invest in a full developmental edit, I also offer one-on-one workshopping sessions for picture books, short stories, or manuscript excerpts.
---
Experience & Credentials I have my MA in Writing, my MFA in Fiction, a certificate in literary representation, and over 15 years of writing and editing experience. I am also a member of the Editorial Freelancers Association.

Note: I'm looking for companionship. I'm fond of talking with other nationalities. It's not a requirement.
Something from my personal essays:
Every now and then, I cannot help but wonder about the paths untaken and the alternate lives that lie beyond my current reality. In other words, I cannot help but ponder the roads untraveled and the lives I could have led every now and then.
In a different existence, my passions for history, culture, and the intricacies of human connection might have led me down the corridors of diplomacy or international relations. The desire to bridge gaps and foster understanding among nations resonates deep within my soul. And, in the realm of finance, stock trading beckons, offering the possibility of a life guided by the rhythms of market dynamics, historical patterns, and so much more. But in the here and now, here I am, a web designer and web developer whose heart has been captured by the allure of books.
From my experience working in call center companies, where communication became my armor and confidence my shield, to my foray into the realm of sales, where I learned the art of persuasion and the power of forging meaningful connections, each role has molded me into the person I am today. At the tender age of 12, I discovered the world of web development and web design, and it was around the time I was 14 that I received my first paid job as a freelance web designer. I was entrusted with the task of transforming a simple jpeg file into a fully-functioning, mobile-friendly, and search engine-optimized WordPress theme. I successfully brought the client’s vision to life.
As the years rolled by, I was fortunate enough to explore what lies within my own backyard, the Philippines: Cagayan de Oro, Puerto Princesa in Palawan, and Cebu.
As I navigate the ebb and flow of life, I am reminded that the path we walk is not always a straight line. These detours in life even, every now and then, arrive unannounced, like a sudden gust of wind, altering the course of our lives in ways we could never have foreseen. I learn to let go of rigid expectations and embrace life, warts and all, and I learn to surrender control and embrace the beauty of spontaneity.
So, as I conclude this essay, I acknowledge that the journey is as significant as the destination. While my heart may harbor fleeting thoughts of the different lives I could have led, I realized I am right where I am meant to be.
The beauty lies not in the certainty of the path but in the willingness to embrace the unknown. The unexpected gusts of wind that alter my course, the detours that lead me astray, and the spontaneity that sweeps me off my feet are not disruptions but rather invitations to grow, learn, and discover.
In the end, it is the sum of these moments—the detours, roadblocks, and unexpected turns—that forms my portrait of a young Filipina woman. Each stroke of the brush contributes to the dimensions of my existence, reflecting strength, adaptability, and a deep appreciation for the intricate chorus between fate and choice.
So, I continue to wander with an open heart and open mind, ready to embrace the unforeseen and to hum to the rhythm of life’s ever-changing melody. For it is within the intricate threads of uncertainty that I find the greatest opportunities for growth, the deepest connections, and the truest expressions of my being.

You guuuuuyyyys. Someone just bought 5 of the same pdf cross stitch pattern from me in 5 different transactions all getting “shipped” to a different person. They did it FIVE TIMES without noticing.
And before anyone comments, yes, it’s very clear in descriptions, title, my images, the price and all the things that it’s a pattern, this ain’t my first rodeo.
It’s not even 9am in my time zone yet. I almost don’t want to address it until Monday business hours but I know I should do it asap.
Yay! Happy Saturday! Anyone else have any fun weekend sale stories to commiserate with?

This is going to be a post that I both express my emotions which I kept to myself for a long time and ask for advice, so it may be a long one.
In March 2022, I (23F) started dating with a guy (20M) who is very amazing in many aspects and have a great personality. When I first met him online, I didn't like him at all. There was no specific reason but I hated him, told him that I don't trust him. One day, while we were chatting, he told me that he was in town and brought the chocolate from Germany I had asked many months ago. I was very surprised that he remembered that small detail because I didn't even remember it at first. He asked to see me in person and I couldn't say no. I didn't want to meet him until the night before, but our last conversation before the date was so good that we both stayed up all night and talked. In the morning, we went to a naval museum and he told me that he forgot to bring the chocolate but brought something I've asked as a joke (a whistle and a figure). At that moment I knew that guy is different. We had an amazing day and at the end of the day we both knew that there was something between us. However, there was a catch. He was leaving for school in another country in 2 weeks but we wanted to keep it long-distance from time to time. It was the best 2 weeks of my life. Missing each other was hard but it was worth it.
He told me about his dp in June. He isn't diagnosed and he didn't use the word dp but all the things he said and all the actions he's done is related to dp. He assured me that his opinions and feelings on me weren't affected by this. At fall, when he was in Germany, things went worse. His symptoms were worsened and he needed to leave school and come back early. I wanted him to come back because he was suffering there and I wanted him to stay here until he's got better.
In January, 2 weeks after he came back, he told me that he didn't love me anymore and it was nothing to do with me, his feelings towards everyone was the same. It was devastating for me but there was nothing to do. I cried my eyes out but he couldn't show anything. It was the worst time of my life. I wanted to be respectful and understanding but couldn't hold myself and texted him every couple days. A week later, we talked on the phone, and he said he realised that he doesn't need to overcome this alone. I wanted him to be okay. So we met on 14th February, in the very first place we've seen each other. Visited the places we went to in our first date. He held his chest and said "Now I feel it". I thought the worst part has ended. We agreed to see each other twice a week. One time he said "I would love to see you 3 times but I don't really have the energy" and I was okay. Missing him sucked but it was better than being seperated.
In the last week of April, we had good day. We spent time cuddling each other, petting his cat, eating some traditional food I haven't tried before. I was upset that he didn't go cycling with me, so I rented a bicycle and went cycling together. I was getting tired quickly but he was understanding. He told me that we wouldn't talk at the weekend because he had a plan with his close friends and I said okay but text me so I can know that you are alive. I also have anxiety and abandonment fears, so him texting me every 4-5 eases my anxiety. I am aware that it's not a healthy coping mechanism but I was trying to get better and doing my best. He was avoiding saying I love you lately because he wanted to feel it when he says it. On that day, he said it and added "Normally the feeling bar is at 0% but now it's at 20%".
Then he's just stopped texting. Didn't reply my calls. 4 days later, he texted me and told me that he wants to end our relationship because he doesn't want to think or care about me. I asked all the good times we've spent together but he said he didn't enjoy it as much as I did. I was angry at him, so I wasn't devastated as I was in January. After a couple days, my anger faded and left its place to sadness. I tried to reach him. After some time he texted and said that he doesn't see me as an enemy but it's harmful for him to talk to me even as a friend and he doesn't know if we're going to talk again or not. Later he blocked me.
It's been a month. I talked to his friends, none of them knows nothing about our relationship. I called him yesterday to ask how he's been feeling and to see if his elderly cats are fine, but he declined it. People say there are plenty fish in the sea but I had dated other people, he was different. Today, I find myself beautiful because he made me realise it. He was kind and funny. He made me laugh even when I am upset. He supported me in every way he could. We rarely had fights because I missed him and it wasn't toxic in my opinion. I don't think I can get over him easily. I wish there was a way to know if he's going to change his mind. I don't know what to do.
TL;DR: Amazing bf with dp told me he doesn't want to think about me broke up with me suddenly. He doesn't know if we're going to stay this way forever. It's been more than a month, but I still love him.

Fiction writers: You've written and revised your manuscript as best you can. Next up? The developmental edit.
I work with writers of fantasy, sci-fi, speculative fiction, and similar genres providing detailed marginal comments and a comprehensive letter summarizing my feedback with actionable steps and suggestions to improve the big picture issues affecting your manuscript.

"I’ve worked with editors before who helped revise my work and sent me on my way. It felt more like a transaction than actual guidance. Kayleigh is so much more than that."
- Danielle G.
Read more kudos here.

Learn more about my experience, style, and how I can help turn your draft into a strong manuscript at www.editsinthemargins.com.
Developmental editing rates for fiction start at $0.035 per word. For those not ready to invest in a full developmental edit, I also offer one-on-one workshopping sessions for picture books, short stories, or manuscript excerpts.
---
Experience & CredentialsI have my MA in Writing, my MFA in Fiction, a certificate in literary representation, and over 15 years of writing and editing experience. I am also a member of the Editorial Freelancers Association.

DO NOT READ THIS POST IF KIDS ARE IN THE ROOM. Send the kiddies out of the room for this one!
Okay, don't say that I didn't warn you beforehand!
​
​
Good Morning, Good Folks of this forum.
I am sliding through here to share a dilemma of mine with you all. How do I write a smutty elevator scene?
My MC's name is Samantha and she's with a man named John. Samantha and John have known each other for years and they love each other immensely and their relationship is turbulent for lack of a better word.
I am basing Samantha off of Ava Gardner and John off of Frank Sinatra, as archetypes for my story if you must know.
Anyway Samantha and John get married in Las Vegas on a whim and sometime after they do it, they realized that getting married was a stupid thing to do and the both of them pursue an annulment.
Samantha and John go to the lawyer's office and on the way there in the elevator, John has second thoughts about the annulment and ends up basically fucking Samantha in the elevator.
My problem is how do I write out the smutty elevator scene?
I know that I want the scene to be intense. I know that I want the scene to be one where John is just thrusting inside of Samantha with wild abandon and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
I know that I want the scene to be one where Samantha is calling John "Daddy" and that she is smiling throughout the entire ordeal, because this man is her whole heart and she wants to be with him forever and she hates the idea of an annulment and having his cock inside of her just feels home.
Samantha loves every bit of John but she's always had this crazy addiction to his cock because its like really big and really thick and when he fucks her, its incredible beyond her wildest dreams. Samantha is unbelievably devoted to John and him having a big cock just makes her love him more.
Anyway I know that I want the elevator scene to have John's balls so deep in Samantha's pussy that when she finally does achieve the MOMENT, she actually thinks that she can physically see stars.
I want Samantha to leave that elevator with scattered hair and a rumpled dress and ripped panties and the biggest cheshire cat grin on her face.
I want John to leave that elevator with some buttons torn off his shirt and lipstick marks all over his face and his hair also being a bit scattered and his pants kind of unzipped and a smug look on his face, like as to say that he reclaimed his mate.
Oh and as they are about to walk into the lawyer's office, I want John to give Samantha a sweet look that kind of says "I love you and once the papers are signed, I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon with my cock inside of you."
I want Samantha to walk into that Lawyer's office with a little bit of John's cum still dripping from her core and her pussy being kind of sore and her being sad about the annulment but excited for the moment that she can get John alone again.
How in the hell do I write this elevator scene? What do I add to the elevator scene? What do I take away from the elevator scene? Do I scrap the elevator scene entirely? Is the elevator scene a little unrealistic?
I need advice on this one, help me out please! I am not sure if this post is a little too dirty and if it is, my sincerest apologies to anyone who is reading it.
I am trying to get better at writing smut but I am a work in progress, hun. :)

It's been almost 6 months since we ended it, and 3(?) months since we parted ways. Forever by the looks of it. And I'll be okay that way. We probably won't ever see, or contact each other again, and that's okay.
I guess it's time I made my peace with you in my heart. I don't think it has anymore capacity for you in it. I've been holding on to you in my heart with the sense of bitterness and injustice. For so long I despised the thought of you and what you did. The pain was too much for me to bear.
It's time for it to be water under the bridge. Beautiful, clear waters under the bridge, like in Batam when we rode the bike there through massive traffic jams. Remember that? That was a good memory.
We broke up by then, but we went on the trip anyway. I remember it well. It was good, mostly. Felt like we were great together. We were loving and affectionate again, like we used to. But it wasn't meant to be. That was our last trip together, and we made it amazing, even if it was just Batam.
So thank you for everything. You were the best travel buddy I could've asked for at the time. Thank you for the love you showed me. Thank you for being my best friend all that time. Thank you, for being you. Thank you for showing me what love was. Thank you for the time we shared. Thank you for putting me on the path I'm on now. The pain has only served to make me a much better, stronger man.
The path has been winding, rocky, and full of shitty roads. Like the one from Bảo Lạc to Cao Bằng. And it's been slow, just like the Honda Blade we rode on. It's been hell, but like Hà Giang, I've come to enjoy the journey.
So again, thank you for everything. I risked my life for you to save yours. I cared so much for you, and you helped me reach that kind of bravery and courage. I wouldn't have it any other way. You showed me what I was capable of.
I'll be fine. I will always be. I hope you find yourself, and your family in excellent health, and happiness. I do not worry about yoy anymore. You're capable of handling yourself. These are my final words to you. May you live, and love well. Thank you.
Love,
Someone you used to know.

The inhabitants of the earth represent the men and women who are omitted from the Book of Life because they submit to the Beast. This group is unrelenting in its hostility to the “Lamb” and those who follow him “wherever he goes,” even rejoicing in the violent deaths of his “Two Witnesses.” Unlike the “nations” and the “kings of the earth,” they are beyond redemption, and their names are excluded from the “Book of Life.”
The term rendered “inhabitants” translates the Greek verb katoikeô, meaning, “to dwell, inhabit.” In Revelation, it occurs only with negative connotations, and almost exclusively is used for “INHABITANTS of the earth,” a group that is always hostile to Jesus.

IN PERGAMOS

The first use of the term is in the “letter” to the “messenger” of the church in Pergamos. In many interpretations, the phrase “where Satan dwells” is applied either to the seat of the Roman provincial government that was based in Pergamos or to its temple dedicated to the veneration of the emperor. Either view may be correct. However, there is something larger in view. (Revelation 2:12-13).
In Pergamos, “dwell” is applied to Satan and to the church, and the latter certainly did not reside in the governor’s residence or the emperor’s temple. Likewise, ‘Antipas,’ would not have been executed in either location. Most likely, he died outside the city walls. And members of the congregation dwelled in the city. Yet Jesus assured them he was certainly aware that they lived where “Satan dwells.”
Jesus promised the church in Philadelphia that he would keep them “from the hour of trial, which is going to come upon the WHOLE HABITABLE EARTH, to try the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH.”
The terms “whole habitable earth” and “inhabitants of the earth” are applied to the same situation. Implicit is the wider geographical area that will be affected by this coming “hour of trial.” It will involve populations beyond the confines of Philadelphia and Pergamos– (Revelation 3:10).

IN DANIEL

The term, “inhabitants of the earth,” is derived from a passage in Daniel. After his downfall and restoration to the throne, Nebuchadnezzar declared to the residents of his kingdom:

• (Daniel 4:34-35) – “And I blessed the Most High, and I praised and honored him that lives forever, for his dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom from generation to generation; and all the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH are reputed as nothing; and he does according to his will in the HOST OF HEAVEN, and among the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH; and none can stay his hand or say unto him, What are you doing?”

In Chapter 6 of Revelation, the “Lamb” opened the “fifth seal” and John saw the “souls of them who had been slain for the testimony they held” underneath the “altar.” The image is based on the altar of burnt offerings detailed in the Book of Leviticus. The blood of sacrificial victims was poured out at its base.

And that is the picture behind the vision of the martyred “souls” found at the base of the “altar,” where they plead for vindication against the “inhabitants of the earth” – (Revelation 6:9-11).

Similarly, after the first four trumpets sounded, John saw an “eagle” pronouncing a warning - “Woe, woe, woe, for the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH, because of the other voices of the trumpet of the three angels who are yet to sound!” – (Revelation 8:13).
The first four trumpets unleashed “plagues” against the economy of the empire – its seaborne commerce, fresh water sources, and the like. The last three harmed the “inhabitants of the earth” themselves. “By these three plagues was the third part of men killed.” Nevertheless, they “repented not of their murders, nor of their sorceries, nor of their fornication, nor of their thefts.”

THE BEAST

When the “Beast from the Abyss” killed the “Two Witnesses,” the “INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH rejoiced over them and made merry… for these two prophets tormented the inhabitants of the earth.” While it was the “Beast from the Abyss” that carried out these violent acts, the “inhabitants of the earth” certainly took pleasure in the deaths of the “Two Witnesses.”
In Chapter 12, after the “son” was “snatched” to the “throne,” Satan was expelled from heaven and “cast down to the earth.” While heaven “rejoiced,” the “great voice in heaven” declared an ominous warning to the “inhabitants of the earth”:

• “Therefore rejoice, O heavens, and you that tabernacle in them. Woe for the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH and the sea because the Devil is gone down to you, having great wrath, knowing that he has but a short time.” – (Revelation 12:12).

Here, two groups are contrasted, and this is indicated by the two verbs used: “tabernacle” and “inhabit.” “Tabernacle” or “tent” indicates something temporary, such as a “tent” pitched during a journey. “Inhabit” or “dwell” suggests something more permanent. And note the expansion of the expression to the “inhabitants of the earth and THE SEA.”

Unless the passage is a warning to sea creatures, the references are not geographical. Elsewhere in the book, the “sea” is associated with the Abyss, and is a source of great evil that must be pacified.

As for the men who were “tabernacling in heaven,” the expulsion of the Devil meant rejoicing. For the “inhabitants of the earth,” it signified something far more ominous. The identity of the ones who were “tabernacling in heaven” is provided by the context - the “brethren” who “overcame the Dragon by the blood of the Lamb.”
Precisely why the downfall of the “Dragon” meant “woe” to the “inhabitants of the earth” is not stated in the immediate passage. More relevant is the reaction of the “Dragon” to the knowledge that he has a “short time.” He vents his wrath, but NOT against the “inhabitants of the earth,” but instead, against “those who have the testimony of Jesus.”
And the last clause links the latter group to the martyrs who were seen “under the altar” in the “fifth seal,” the ones who were slain on account of “their testimony.”

CONTRASTING GROUPS

The same two groups are found again in Chapter 13, those who “tabernacle in heaven” and the “inhabitants of the earth” - (Revelation 13:4-10).
The rhetorical question concerning the “Beast from the Sea,” - “Who is like him, and who can make war with him” - is reminiscent of Nebuchadnezzar’s declaration - “He does according to his will in the host of heaven, and among the INHABITANTS OF THE EARTH, and none can stay his hand or say to him, What are you doing?”As is now clear, the literary source of the two contrasting groups, those who “tabernacle in heaven [HOST OF HEAVEN]” and the “inhabitants of the earth,” is the same passage in the book of Daniel - (Daniel 4:34-35).
In Chapter 13, the “slander” of the “mouth that was given to the Beast” is directed against “those who tabernacle in heaven.” The reference is NOT spatial. These two terms differentiate between two groups based on their allegiance either to the “Lamb” or to the “Beast.” The followers of the “Lamb” have not taken up permanent residence in the present age, on the earth, or in the sky, therefore, they are described as “tabernacling.”
The term “slander” refers to accusations brought against the saints by the “accuser of the brethren,” presumably, in the earthly courts of the Empire. A parallel is found in the letter to the church at Smyrna where the congregation is “slandered” before local authorities by Jews from the “synagogue of Satan.”
What identifies a person as a member of the “inhabitants of the earth” is not his physical location, but whether his name is excluded from “the Lamb’s Book of Life.” In other words, all those who render homage to the “Beast.”

THE FALSE PROPHET

The second “Beast from the earth,” the “False Prophet,” is seen ascending from the “earth” to deceive the “earth and its inhabitants.” This demonstrates that “earth” means something beyond the physical planet.
Just as the “Sea” and the “Abyss” are sources of evil, so, also, is the “earth.” This explains why the expulsion of Satan from heaven means “woe” to those “inhabiting the earth and the sea.” It will mean disaster to the unrepentant since his unleashing to persecute the church will culminate in the final judgment on all whose names are not “written in the Book of Life.”
This “False Prophet” has two horns “like a lamb,” and performs the same “signs” done previously by the “Two Witnesses.” Thus, he imitates the “Lamb” and his “witnesses.” Similarly, the “first Beast” received the “stroke of death” but lived, a parody of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

This suggests that the deceptions propagated by Satan’s earthly agents mimic and counterfeit the true faith. In response to the “signs” performed by the “False Prophet,” the “inhabitants of the earth” take the “mark of the Beast,” sealing their ominous fate.

In Chapter 14, an angel “flying in mid-heaven” proclaims the everlasting gospel to the “inhabitants of the earth,” AND to “every nation and tribe and tongue and people.” This means the “nations” and the “inhabitants of the earth” are not necessarily identical.
The angel summons his target audience to “fear God and give him glory; for the hour of his judgment is come.” Rather than to the “Beast,” they must “render homage to him that made the heaven and the earth and the Sea and the fountains of waters.” Two more angels follow and pronounce judgment on “Babylon.” This means God has provided the “inhabitants of the earth” ample opportunities to repent - (Revelation 14:6-13).
“Babylon, the Great Harlot” is described in detail in Chapter 17. She is the one with whom the “kings of the earth” and the “inhabitants of the earth” commit “fornication.”
As with the “nations,” so the “kings of the earth” are distinguished from the “inhabitants of the earth,” though both groups are corrupted by “Babylon,” she who is drunk with the “blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus.”
This “Great Harlot” is carried by the “Beast” that has “seven heads and ten horns.” It “was and is not; and is going to ascend from the Abyss,” references to the previous slaying and revivification of the “Beast from the Sea,” and to the ascent of the “Beast from the Abyss” that destroyed the “Two Witnesses.”

SUMMING UP

The book of Revelation pulls together themes from the preceding visions. The constant factor in the several visions is the hostility of the “inhabitants of the earth” to the “Lamb” and his servants, and their choice of the “Beast from the Sea,” his “name,” and his “mark”:

• “And the inhabitants of the earth shall wonder, whose name has not been written in the Book of Life from the foundation of the world when they behold the Beast, how that he was, and is not, and shall come” – (Revelation 17:1-8).

Their consistent refusal to render homage to the “Lamb” explains why their “name is not written in the Book of Life.” At the final judgment, “Death and Hades were cast into the lake of fire, the second death. And if anyone was not found written in the Book of Life, he was cast into the lake of fire” – (Revelation 20:11-15).
Their history of unrelenting hostility to the “Lamb” explains why the “inhabitants of the earth” are nowhere found in the “city of New Jerusalem” in chapters 21 and 22. In Revelation, at times, the “nations” and the “kings of the earth” resist the “Lamb.” Nevertheless, both groups are found at the end of the book in the holy city, therefore, they are not without hope:

• “And the city has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine upon it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the lamp thereof is the Lamb. And the NATIONS shall walk amidst the light thereof: and the KINGS OF THE EARTH bring their glory into it” - (Revelation 21:23-24).

But, as a group, the “inhabitants of the earth” are beyond redemption, not because God is powerless to save them, but because they refuse His every offer. No matter how many plagues He sends, they refuse to repent, nor do they respond to His summons to repent. Like the Pharaoh of Egypt, THEY ONLY HARDEN THEIR HEARTS in response. They continue to “fornicate” with “Babylon,” and they celebrate the deaths of God’s servants.
Rather than follow the “Lamb,” the “inhabitants of the earth… render homage to the Beast” and welcome its “mark.” They prefer the counterfeit faith offered by Satan’s earthly agents.
In short, their names are excluded from the “Book of Life” due to their own decisions. God’s condemnation of the unrepentant to the “Lake of Fire” is fully justified.
[Pubished on the Revelation Answers blog site at the link below]
https://www.revelationanswers.org/2023/06/inhabitants-of-earth.html

"Think of this as a chance at revenge," Sweeney said.
​
Revenge.
​
What a moronically quaint idea.
​
This jumped up little shit had come into my home, interrupted my retirement and here he was talking to me about revenge, as if he knew the first thing about what I’d seen, what I’d been through, why I’d quit.
​
Looking into his eyes, I knew he didn’t understand. I knew he couldn’t.
​
I've been hunting vampires for most of my life. I've killed more of them than I can count. But Clementine Di Cesare was no ordinary vampire. Hell, none of the Di Cesares were ordinary vampires, but even among them Clementine was… unique. She was the one all the others quietly feared. The one who was even spoken of with reverence by the Di Cesares masters, those twin Immortals who could not be killed by any weapon of this world. Seeking revenge against her was like seeking revenge against death itself.
​
“Revenge?” I repeated, with a dismissive scoff.
“You’re really going to tell me that after what she put you through, you don’t want revenge?” Sweeney asked.
“If you knew what she did to me, you’d know why I don’t want revenge,” I replied.
“Really? Sorry Franklin, but I don’t buy that. Look, I get it if you’re reluctant to jump back into the fight. I do. You of all people know just how dangerous the Di Cesare’s are. Especially ‘La Morte’.”
​
I looked over at him as he said that name. It rolled off his tongue so irreverently. To him, it was just a name. An alias assigned to some vampire he’s only heard of stories. He didn’t utter it with the respect it deserved, and I almost couldn’t be bothered to correct him. Any words spent on this small minded glory hound were probably wasted.
​
“Yes, I do know.”
“Which is why I need you,” Sweeney said. He almost sounded as if he were pleading with me. “Think of this as an opportunity to set things right… to put that vampire bitch in the ground where she belongs, and save God only knows how many lives in the process!”
I sighed.
He just didn’t get it.
​
“Mark my words, Mr. Sweeney, if you chase after Clementine Di Cesare, you’ll end far more lives than you save. She didn’t get a name like ‘La Morte’ for nothing. She earned it. Purchased it with the blood of the tens of thousands she’s sent screaming into the maw of Hell. She is not something you chase, Sweeney.”
“She’s a vampire,” Sweeney said dismissively. “She’s another enemy to destroy.”
“That’s what George Bundy said,” I replied. “Then not too long after, he died.”
“I’m not George Bundy,” Sweeney said.
“No. You sure as hell ain’t,” I agreed, before looking the kid in the eye.
​
He thought he was an up and comer, climbing the ranks of the Brethren. He probably thought of himself as some sort of badass vampire hunter too, when in reality he could never have so much as dreamed of holding a candle to the likes of Bundy… or hell, any of the men who’d died in Brazil.
“You should watch your tone with me,” Sweeney warned.
“Or you’ll do what?” I asked, “You ain’t going to frighten me with vague threats, boy. I’ve walked through Hell, trying to kill the Devil. What have you done?”
​
Sweeney bit his lip but didn’t respond.
“There’s nothing you can say or do that will intimidate me,” I said, before lighting myself a cigarette. I stared at the road outside of my porch, old memories flooding back to me before looking over at Sweeney again. He sat in his chair beside me like a sulky child. This was the man who wanted to destroy the Di Cesare family? Pathetic.
​
“Exactly how much do you know about the Brazil Job?” I asked.
“I know it was a failure. Clementine Di Cesare killed most of the men the Brethren sent out… all except for you. You were the only one good enough to beat her.”
“Good enough…” I repeated with a huff, “Hardly… whatever picture you’ve got in your head of some glorified battle, throw it away. Trust me, the Brazil Job was anything but glorious. It was a two hour long trek through Hell. And I didn’t beat Di Cesare at the end of it. I survived her. They’re two different things entirely.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Sweeney said.
“You wouldn’t, would you?” I sighed and took another drag on my cigarette.
​
This kid wasn’t going to leave until I made him understand… so I told him my story. I told him everything even though I knew he’d learn nothing from it.
​
***
​
I’d joined up with the Brethren Knights of St. Fontaine back in the 1980s to hunt monsters. Back then, it seemed like the best use of my skills. I’d done my tours with the army, but even after I got out, I was still looking for an enemy to fight. So naturally, once I found out that vampires were real, I set my sights on them. It seemed like the most sensible thing to do at the time.
​
The Brethren Knights fancied themselves the descendants of the Knights Templar, and they insisted that their God given mission was to protect mankind from the things that lurked in the shadows. I didn’t really have much love for God at the time, but if the Bretheren were the ones fighting the monsters, then I was happy to tolerate the Jesus freaks in their ranks.
​
It was 1988 when we first heard whispers of the Imperium. A supposed cabal of vampires, trying to get them organized. At the time, it’d seemed too crazy to be true. Vampires generally went their own way, in my experience. At most, they might have a partner but other than they they didn’t really socialize with their own kind. But supposedly someone out there had the big fucking balls to keep them in line, and whoever they were, they scared the shit out of the Brethren.
​
They’d started targeting high profile vampires, trying to find someone who was involved in this ‘Imperium’, hoping that maybe they might get someone to talk. And it wasn’t long until they found someone who did.
​
From my understanding, the vampire they captured didn’t seem to know much about who was actually running the show. But they knew who their second in command was… and that was when I first head about the Di Cesare family.
​
The name was familiar to some of the higher ups in the Brethren, and I’d heard some stories. Not sure which were true, but the long and short of it was that the Di Cesare’s and the Brethren shared a bloody history, and didn’t particularly like each other too much.
​
George Bundy explained it to me like this at one point: ‘The Di Cesare’s are an old family. Most of them used to be witches, up until their Matriarch turned them into vampires. Now they’re a whole new kind of nasty. Far as I know, the only time anyone’s actually managed to kill one was about 200 years ago. Anyone who’s tried since has ended up dead, so most folks don’t even bother anymore.’
​
I guess it shouldn’t have been surprising they’d be involved in the Imperium, but the mere mention of their name ruffled some feathers higher up on the chain of command, and eventually they put out a kill order on them. Most of the Di Cesare’s were generally pretty hard to track down, but the top brass had a pretty good line on their matriarch, Bianca Di Cesare. Supposedly, she’d been spotted near the family’s private estate in Brazil and rumor had it that most of her daughters were there too.
​
Normally, the brass wouldn’t have sanctioned any kind of attack on them. The Di Cesare’s were already considered off limits, and attacking them at their private estate was considered damn near impossible. The estate was located in a small mining town outside of Manaus called Refugio de Julia, or just Julia for short. The town was fairly remote, being only accessible from a few backroads and most folks tended to avoid it, claiming they’d had various strange encounters in the area. Their accounts described unsettling pale figures with dark hair and large green eyes working in the mines, although some of the more disturbing stories we heard involved sightings of other creatures in the jungle surrounding the town. Massive spiders with humanoid faces, tending rotting corpses filled with stinging bees, giant howling beasts who tore through the forest, hunting prey, and beautiful women who would appear in the nearby towns, betwitching men into coming away with them only to reveal themselves as monsters who fed on the blood of their victims. Some had even claimed the Di Cesares themselves were such beasts… although those claims weren’t taken quite as seriously.
​
A skeptic might say the stories that surrounded Julia seemed like little more than just local superstition… but the Brethren had been dealing with the supernatural for long enough to recognize when something was probably real, and when it was probably fake and they knew damn well that most of the stories about Julia were probably true. None of them had ever dared set foot in Julia to find out for sure, since doing so would probably be suicide, but the theory was that the Di Cesares had created Julia as something of a refuge for other creatures. Other vampires, werewolves, arachne, karah and all sorts of other hellspawn. They offered them a home and safety in exchange for their labor in the mines. Hell, the name of the town more or less spelled it out.
​
Refugio de Julia
​
Julia’s Haven.
​
Julia had been the name of the only member of the Di Cesare family that the Brethren had ever killed, so I guess it was only fitting they named the town after her.
​
I honestly think using other creatures like them as a workforce was a bit inspired… since it made Julia damn near impenetrable. Reaching their estate at the far side of the town would have been impossible without being noticed by every creature of hell living in that town, and odds are they’d tear anyone apart long before they even reached the gates of the Di Cesare estate. And if one had the bright idea to approach the estate from another angle, they’d be trudging through miles and miles of rainforest to do so, only end up face to face with a massive stone wall that kept the rainforest out.
​
In effect - the Di Cesare estate was a fortress. Getting in would be no easy feat, to say nothing of confronting the vampires within. But with the fear of the Imperium gnawing at the back of their minds, the Brethren had finally set their minds to trying.
​
George Bundy had been the one in charge of planning the operation out.
​
I’d known Bundy before I’d joined up with the Brethren. Hell, Bundy was the whole reason I’d joined the Brethren. He’d been my CO a number of years back, and he’d earned his reputation as a hardass just about ten or twenty times over. Bundy was a gruff looking man with a bushy moustache and intense eyes. During the years I knew him, I don’t believe I ever once saw him so much as crack a smile. He only ever seemed to speak when he felt there was something he needed to say. Otherwise, he was usually dead silent.
​
He was somewhere in his late fifties back in 88. By all rights, he ought to have retired years ago. But he refused.
“I’m a soldier,” He said, when I asked him about it once. “That’s all I am. I don’t know what else to be.”
​
Bundy’s initial plan had been to hit the Di Cesare estate from the air. Come in fast and loud with a couple of helicopters and see how those vampires stood up to some good old American flak. The idea got shot down pretty quickly, so to speak. Apperantly, most if not all of the Di Cesares had cursed their own bodies, causing whatever wound one inflicted on them to appear on whoever it was who had wounded them. Going in guns blazing would have ended in a bloodbath… and not for them. There were also some concerns about drawing attention from Julia. With no conclusive data on just what they had living in that town, there was no guarantee we’d be safe in the air. A few eyewitnesses had described seeing giant nests in some of the trees in the jungle, supposedly consistent with the nests made by harpies.
​
Flying in guns blazing was out. So Bundy went back to the drawing board and what he came back with… well, it was ballsy, but it almost seemed like it just might work. During his reconnisance of the Di Cesare’s estate, he’d noticed a large but shallow tributary flowing into the amazon river that led right through the Di Cesare’s estate. Along the tributary was an abandoned water mill, that connected to the Di Cesare estate.
​
He’d suggested using the water mill to gain entry to the grounds, and from there, move on the Di Cesare’s. That plan had been approved, and Bundy had been allowed to handpick his team for the operation. He’d chosen fifteen men, all of them ex military, most of them having served under him before.
​
He’d told us we would be dividing into three teams of five men each. We would leave Manaus by boat, and land at three different areas near the tributary before making our way to the mill on foot, where we would regroup, before moving on the Di Cesares. The reason for the division was to ensure that if any of our teams ran into trouble upon making ground, the entire operation wouldn’t be compromised.
​
Team 1, led by Bundy himself would depart first and land to the west of the tributary. Team 2, led by a man named Ferdinand Hernandez would make land about fifteen minutes later near the mouth of the tributary and Team 3, to be led by me would land fifteen minutes later to the east.
​
On the day of the operation, I sat in my boat, watching as the other two left. It was twilight when we set out, and I remember that as my team and I carried out our final checks on our equipment, the only thing I felt was a familiar anticipation.
​
I’d hesitate to call it fear. Fear is what came later. Anticipation is the better word. I knew we could be walking into a tough situation… but I trusted Bundy. I trusted he’d run a smooth op. God knew, he’d done it a thousand times before.
​
The team assigned to me wasn’t anything particularly special. They were competent enough, but none of them would’ve been my first choices. Jack McMullen, for instance, who was about the same age as I was at the time. We’d both served under Bundy before, although while I respected Bundy, Jack was wholly devoted to him. I swear, if the man had told him to stuff a live grenade up his ass, Jack would’ve done it without a moments hesitation. I dunno if Jack simply saw him as the father he’d never had or what, but he damn near worshipped Bundy.
​
I can’t quite say the same for the other guys we had with us, though. One of them, some greenhorn by the name of Pearce Wilson struck me as an airheaded pretty boy who’d never actually had his boots on the ground before, while the other one, Scott Barber had left a bad taste in my mouth last time we’d worked together. Barber was capable… but he was violent. This was a kid with a hell of a chip on his shoulder, and it looked a hell of a lot like that Confederate flag patch he wore on his jacket. He wanted an excuse to shoot something, and I don’t think he cared what. Under most circumstances I’m not sure I would’ve fully trusted him with a gun.
​
The last one though, Joseph Feng… him I trusted. Feng was the one I knew the least about, and he didn’t seem much for conversation. But he handled himself competently enough and seemed to know when to sit down and shut up.
​
When Team 2’s boat was far enough away, we got the radio signal to follow. Barber was the one steering the boat, so I gave him the order to cast off and we ventured out into the twilight, unaware of just what was waiting for us out there.
​
***
​
We landed in our designated area fifteen minutes after Team 2 confirmed they’d touched down at theirs. Our landing was fairly uneventful. Feng, Barber, and I secured the boat before we radio’d Bundy to let him know we were in position. After that, it was just a matter of making it to the tributary.
​
As we ventured into the jungle, the world around us was quiet. There was wind, the whisper of the river behind us, and the sounds of animals. But little else. The river fell away behind us as we moved in single file toward the tributary, maintaining radio silence as we did.
​
It was about a half hour before we heard the gunshot.
​
Just one, echoing through the twilight. But it was enough to give us pause.
​
“The fuck was that?” I heard Barber ask. Immediately, the kid was on high alert, with his gun raised as if he were expecting every monster in Julia to come charging at us from all angles.
I just listened, waiting to hear if there was anything else. I half expected my radio to come to life, but it didn’t.
“Team 1, status?” I asked.
The radio crackled with static, but there was no response.
​
I tried it again, but still with no success. The radio was working, that much I was sure of. Something had to be blocking the signal.
“What’s going on?” Feng asked.
“Dunno,” I replied. “Comms are down.”
“Down?” Wilson asked, “So we’re flying blind out here, then?”
“More or less,” I replied.
“What do we do? Do we go back… if the comms are down…”
“Just because something’s jamming our signal doesn’t mean we’re made,” I said. “Relax. We keep moving for now. You keep your eyes wide open, and your head on a swivel. We’ll make it to the tributary and see if we can’t meet up with the other teams.”
I could tell Wilson wasn’t a fan of my answer, but I didn’t much care. We had a job to do, and I aimed to do it.
​
I pressed on without a further word and the others followed. Up ahead, I could hear the sound of running water and picked up the pace. I figured the tributary had to be close… and I was right.
​
I emerged from the brush into the stream, only to pause when I saw what was waiting for us in the water.
​
In the dying sunlight, it was impossible to mistake the bodies sprawled out on the rocks as anything else… and all I needed to do was look at their uniforms to know they were our people.
“Jesus…” I heard Wilson say under his breath. He froze up, lingering by the bank as I cautiously approached one of the bodies.
​
It belonged to a somewhat heavyset man with a thin mustache who I recognized as Hernandez. His eyes were still open, although lifeless and staring in different directions, and there was a clean hole in his forehead where a bullet had ended his life. The gunshot we’d heard earlier had likely been the sound of his death.
​
Looking at the bodies around him, I knew they had to be the rest of Team 2… although it was a little harder pinning down their cause of death. Some sort of bladed weapon, perhaps, judging by the state of them. I realized the odds were that they walked into some sort of ambush.
“What about Bundy and Team 1?” Jack asked, “Any sign of them?”
“No,” I said. “These bodies are all from Team 2… Bundy could still be ahead of us.”
“Then we need to keep going!”
​
Jack turned, heading up the stream and Barber was right behind him. Feng paused for a moment, thinking this over before following. Only Wilson remained.
“How do we know we’re not walking into a trap?” He asked.
“We’ll deal with that when we get to it,” I said before moving to follow the others.
“With all due respect, Sarge… that doesn’t sound like the best course of action!” Wilson argued, finally following me. “It sounds just like a good way to get killed!”
“Yeah?” I asked, “I’m gonna tell you an ugly truth, kid. That’s the job. Make your peace with it, and it’ll go a lot easier.”
​
Wilson didn’t like that answer either and trailed off behind me, watching as I continued upstream. For a moment, I half expected him to go back to the boat… but no. I dunno if he found his balls or just didn’t want to get left behind, but he started to follow us again.
​
I kept trying to raise Team 1 on the radio while we walked, although I still had no luck. The light above us slowly faded into darkness as we trudged through the water in silence, guns sitting comfortably in our hands and mosquitos biting at our necks.
​
It wasn’t until we lost Feng that I heard anybody so much as make a sound, and when we lost Feng… it happened almost instantaneously. One minute, he was at the head of the group, walking just ahead of Jack and I. The next, he was gone, only barely having the time to let out a scream as he fell into the river ahead of us.
​
The rest of us paused. Jack seemed to freeze and I pushed past him, calling out for Feng as I did. As punishment for my compassion, I almost went down after him. I only barely stopped myself from stepping on the slippery rocks that had helped send him to his demise.
​
I could see Feng’s body in the water, and I could see the blood pouring out of him. He twitched a few times, but I knew he was dead. The sharpened wooden spikes jutting out of him confirmed as much.
“What the hell…” Jack said under his breath, staring at Feng’s corpse in disbelief. “That’s a fucking spike trap!”
​
Yeah.
​
It was indeed a fucking spike trap.
​
I could see other spikes jutting out of the water ahead of us, just past a small dam of rocks that were just slippery enough to make it difficult to stop yourself from falling. Some of those spikes had other bodies on them… likely members of Team 1. I only counted two, although that still didn’t exactly bode well.
​
“They put a fucking spike trap in the goddamn stream…” Jack said, “Who the hell does that?”
“Somebody who’s expecting us to use the stream,” I replied.
“So they know we’re coming?” Barber asked.
“Clearly…” I replied. “And they’ve got a good idea on what our route is too.”
​
“Yeah, no shit!” Barber snapped. “Christ… let’s get the fuck out of here. There’s probably more fucking traps upstream!”
“Bundy’s orders were clear!” Jack argued.
“Bundy’s probably dead by now!” Barber replied, before looking at me. “Sarge, come on. You have to know this is suicide!”
“Suicide was part of the job description, was it not?” I asked.
“The job is to kill those fucking vampires, not to die in the goddamn process! We need to get out of the stream and into the woods!”
​
“Judging by the fate Team 2 met, I’m not sure the forest is someplace we want to be right now,” I replied.
“Excuse me?” Barber asked, “What the hell are you talking about, Sarge?”
“Five men dead, but only one gunshot. How did the rest die?”
​
Barber didn’t seem to be able to answer that.
“By now… yes. It’s clear we’ve walked into a trap. And yes, I understand that it makes sense to try and leave that trap… but I don’t know if we’ll be safer in the jungle. Something jumped Team 2. Cut them apart, and then shot Hernandez as a warning. They didn’t have to shoot him. They did it so we’d hear.”
“Your point being?” Barber asked.
“I don’t think this is just a trap, Barber. It’s a game. Stop playing, and you might just end up like our friends downstream.”
“A game?” Wilson asked, “Sarge, you can’t be serious!”
​
“From where I’m standing, we have a better chance of surviving in the stream,” I said. “Look, we’re at least halfway to the rendezvous point, and there have to be at least two members of Team 1 left. The safest thing to do right now is to follow them.”
“You’re off your fucking rocker, Sarge,” Barber spat, locking his eyes with mine. For a moment, I thought the boy was going to try and fight me. But no. He was wise enough to stand down.
“If you wanna get yourself killed, go right the fuck ahead. Just leave me out of it! Wilson, come on,” Barber said before trudging over to the edge of the stream. Wilson didn’t even hesitate, just looking back at Jack and I quietly before he disappeared into the forest with Barber.
​
“You’re not gonna stop them?” Jack asked.
“No,” I replied. “God willing, there’s a chance that pigheaded asshole is right… dunno how much of a chance, but a chance.”
“Then how come we’re not following him?” Jack asked.
“There’s also a chance he’s wrong.”
I turned, before making my way around the spike trap.
“Keep a slower pace,” I said. “Watch for traps.”
​
Jack hesitated for a moment, but he followed me without any further questions and we walked in silence for a little longer.
​
We heard nothing from the trees. Nothing that told us about the fate of Barber and Wilson. I wasn’t sure if that was good news or not.
​
In fact, I don’t think we heard a thing until about a half hour later, when we heard the explosion.
​
It came out of almost nowhere, but ahead of us I could see a flash of light and hear the screams of men. On instinct, I found myself picking up the pace and could hear Jack behind me. In the low light, I saw a shape float past me in the stream. It took me a moment to realize that it was a severed human arm.
​
In the water ahead of us, I could see a figure clinging to one of the rocks and trying to pick himself up. I recognized him as George Bundy.
​
Jack was at his side almost immediately, trying to help the old man to his feet.
“Sir! Are you alright?”
Bundy just wheezed, before his legs gave out from under him. I helped Jack drag him to the shore so he could sit and rest for a moment.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, looking back at the stream.
“Grenade trap… I think…” Bundy panted, “Fucking tripwire… Popkov tripped it, I think…”
​
Popkov… odds are he was one of the two mangled corpses lying in the river a few feet away from us. It seemed they’d taken the brunt of the explosion, although Bundy still had some shrapnel in his arm that Jack was tending to.
“Christ… whole fucking ops gone to shit…” Bundy spat. “Team 2 got taken out just about as soon as they landed. Someone killed them and dumped them in the goddamn river. Lost half my boys to the fucking spike trap and half to this…”
​
He looked up at us, before spitting onto the ground.
“Guess you two haven’t done much better.”
“Hard to say,” I replied. “Two of ours took off into the woods, trying to avoid the traps.”
“Then they’re dead,” Bundy replied. “I’ve seen her watching us… always just up ahead, always from a distance… she’s seeing how far we’ll go. How much we’ll take…”
“She?” I asked.
“La Morte. Should’ve figured she’d be the one to greet us.”
“La Morte?” I asked.
​
“It’s Italian. Supposedly, she earned that name around the time the Di Cesares fled Venice. It’s funny, the Brethren like to act like the Di Cesares leaving Venice was some big victory of theirs, since before they did, they finally killed one of them… hard to call it a victory though, considering how many corpses they made before they fled. And most of them came from La Morte…”
Bundy winced in pain as Jack bandaged his arm before he continued talking.
​
“See… when the Di Cesare’s left Venice, one of them stayed behind. Clementine, the Scorpio sister. Guess she was unwilling to leave the fight unfinished… and according to the stories, the death toll she personally amassed in the years after the Di Cesare’s left Venice make the bodies they claimed during the Venetian Massacre a hundred and fifty years prior look like a pittance. The Brethren still occupying the city started to call her La Morte. Death. Cuz wherever she went, death followed in her wake… and it seems we’ve walked right into her open arms, haven’t we, boys?”
​
“You’re sure it’s her?” I asked.
“She’s a Di Cesare… and the shit we’ve seen out here… I don’t see any other Di Cesare setting those traps. It’s her. I’m sure of it. She’s watching us. Seeing how far we’ll go. Seeing if we’ll turn tail…”
“Should we?” Jack asked, and Bundy finally seemed to acknowledge him.
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“Should we? Look, sir… I’d follow you into the mouth of Hell, but right now, we’re down from fifteen men to three. Can’t say I’m optimistic about our chances right now. If this woman is half as bad as you’re saying she is, maybe it’s time we took a step back!”
​
Jack looked at me, hoping I might back him up, but I remained silent.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Bundy asked.
“What I’m hearing here, is that as of right now, the vampire out there could kill us at any time. She hasn’t. Far as I’m concerned, that’s mercy. Maybe we should be taking it while it’s offered.”
Bundy stared at him, before chuckling. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh.
​
“Just walk away, then?” He asked.
“Walk away, and come back better prepared!” Jack corrected.
“Walk away,” Bundy said again. “We walk away now, and there won’t be a chance to come back better prepared. We get one shot at this. One. Failure is not an option. We go in there and we kill them or we die. End of discussion.”
“And how exactly are we even supposed to kill them?” Jack asked, “That curse they have… bullets aren’t gonna do shit, sir!”
“Yours won’t, mine will…”
Bundy pulled his pistol from his holster. I noticed some sort of pattern crudely engraved on it.
​
“I’ve been doing some research… studied the curse they put on themselves… and I think I’ve found a way to break it. Not sure if it’ll work yet… but we get one chance to test it.”
Jack stared at the gun, then back at Bundy.
“Sir… do you hear yourself?” He asked quietly, “You can’t be serious… right now, even with that gun we don’t stand a chance in he-”
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The gunshot echoed through the forest and made me jump. Jack’s voice died in his throat as he hit the ground.
​
Bundy stared at him for a moment, before huffing and holstering his pistol again. He draped his coat over his shoulders, before looking over at me.
“No room for failure, Frank,” He said calmly.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I stared down at Jack’s body, my mouth hanging open slightly. When I looked back at Bundy, he was already back in the stream.
​
There was a tense silence between Bundy and I as I followed him along the final stretch of the tributary. He trudged on ahead, covered in sweat and straining with every step, but I could sense the quiet determination he had to see this through. Looking at him, you could’ve told me that George Bundy could wipe out the Di Cesare’s all by himself and I would have believed it in a second.
​
The night around us was full of sound, and each one drew my attention. I watched the forest, expecting to see some sign of La Morte watching us. But I saw nothing, except for what she wanted me to see.
“Mill’s just up ahead,” I heard Bundy say as we pressed on, although I noticed his steps faltering as he seemed to notice something in the trees above us. I stopped behind him, looking up before seeing what he saw, and when I saw it I felt my stomach turn.
​
I’d seen death before.
But what Di Cesare had left out for us… that was something else.
Pearce Wilson and Scott Barber weren’t dead.
But if they could have spoke, I’ve got no doubt they would have begged us to kill them. Wilsons pretty face was covered in blood and his pouty lips were parted as more trickled out of him. His curly blond hair was matted and I could see crimson there. Tree branches portruded from his ribs, while the loops of his entrails dangled out of his opened stomach. And Barber was in just about the same state, only he seemed to at least have the ability to turn his head to look at us.
​
I think he might have tried to speak, but the only sound he seemed to be able to make was a pained whimper.
“Jesus Christ…” I said softly.
“He had nothing to do with this,” Bundy replied. He took one last look at the two dying men hanging from the trees, before moving on.
“We should put them out of their misery, sir,” I said.
​
Bundy paused, before looking back at me.
“Don’t waste the ammo, Frank,” He replied. “They’re already dead.”
“Not yet they’re not!”
“Give them time. They chose to go into the woods. They can live with the consequences… for however long that lasts.”
​
With that, he left them. If I were a more compassionate man, I would have put them out of their misery. But no. Bundy moved on and so did I.
​
He approached the water mill, before examining it. It was an old building, made of stone that had long since been overgrown by moss, and sat right on the wall that separated the Di Cesares estate from the amazon. It hardly looked secure, even if the only entrance hadn’t just been an old wooden door secured with a padlock, finding a way in wouldn’t have been difficult. And it didn’t take much for Bundy to break through that door. All he needed was a couple of well placed kicks and it swung right open.
​
Drawing his gun, Bundy strode inside and I followed him.
“The Di Cesare’s will be in the main house,” He said. “We should find a way in through the back, try and catch them off guard. Main target should be the matriarch, Bianca. Her we should prioritize keeping alive… the rest are expendable.”
​
“Much as you are, I’m sure.” A voice called from deeper in the mill, and both Bundy and I froze.
I noticed movement on the floor above us, and through the shadows, I saw a tall woman watching us. She was dressed all in black, with blond hair tied back in a ponytail and the intense eyes of a soldier.
​
This had to be Clementine Di Cesare.
​
Bundy aimed his pistol at her, although she only barely seemed to notice.
“Only two of you left… I’m not sure the odds are in your favor,” The woman said. Her voice was low, calm and quiet.
“Only one way to find out,” Bundy growled.
“And only one way to walk out of this place alive,” Di Cesare countered. “You can put the gun down, turn and walk away. I won’t stop you. There’s no shame in living.”
​
“All the bodies you’ve left in your wake… that’s rich,” Bundy said.
“I don’t relish what I’ve done. I simply don’t know how to do anything else,” She replied. “Think about this, Bundy. Over my lifetime, there have been countless thousands who have come to kill me. All of them are dead, but I am not. Even if you could kill me… you could not kill my sisters. Not all of them. Not before they came for you.”
“Just you, would be enough…” Bundy said, before pulling the trigger.
​
I knew he’d hit her. I knew the bullet pierced her shoulder. But that woman… she didn’t even flinch. She simply dove out of the way before he could shoot again, taking cover and avoiding his next shot.
“Frank, upstairs!” Bundy snapped, “Flush her out!”
I went, trudging up the old wooden steps with my rifle drawn. Only to see Di Cesare vaulting over the railing and back down to the ground floor as soon as I made it up there.
​
Bundy shot at her again, only to miss for a second time. I saw Di Cesare’s arm move, and heard him cry out in pain. In the low light, I could see a dagger protruding from his shoulder. He stumbled back a step, leaving himself open for only a split second.
​
That second was all it took for Di Cesare to raise her own gun and fire just one shot.
​
George Bundy hit the ground without so much as a final scream. There was just a simple hole in his skull where she had shot him.
​
I felt my heart start to race faster. My eyes settled on Bundy’s gun, and I ran for the railing, vaulting it and dropping to the ground below with a thud. Di Cesare shot at me, and I felt the bullet tear through my leg. I reached out for the fallen gun and grabbed it before turning it on Di Cesare, only to find myself staring down the barrel of her own pistol. My finger rested on the trigger, but I didn’t have the guts to pull it.
​
"Kill me, and you will not see the sun tomorrow." She said, her voice still cold and calm.
“Killing you is part of the job…” I replied, but my finger still couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
“And is it worth your life?” Di Cesare asked. “You fail your mission either way.”
“And die with some goddamn honor…”
“There’s no such thing as honor. There is alive and there is dead. Choose.”
​
I knew what I was supposed to choose.
​
But my hands were shaking, as I stared into the face of death. My finger couldn’t squeeze the trigger.
​
The gun collapsed to the floor and Di Cesare kicked it away from me, before huffing and lowering her gun.
“Do not return,” She said softly. “Or next time, I will unleash a hell upon you that will make you beg for simple traps.”
​
She picked Bundy’s gun up off the ground, and then she was gone. After I finally picked myself up off the ground, I was gone too.
​
As I walked back along the stream… I passed the corpses of the men we’d left behind. Barber and Wilson, Jack, Feng, Hernandez, and his team. The flies were already feasting on them. Animals had already torn at them. And as I looked down at their cold corpses, I knew I had made the right choice.
​
I filed my report with the Brethren. Told them that Di Cesare had wiped us out, and a few months later I quietly retired. I never looked back.
​
***
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“You walked away from her?” Sweeney asked in disbelief, “You had her dead to rights and you walked away from her?”
“I chose to live,” I replied. “Can’t say I regret the decision either. Because of the choice I made, I met my wife and had my kids. I’ve lived the life I had because I chose not to throw it away on some vampire.”
​
Sweeney just shook his head.
“You could have gotten the first confirmed kill on a Di Cesare in two centuries, and you threw it away you fucking coward! I could execute you for that!” I noticed his hand hovering over the gun on his hip.
“You could.” I replied, before quietly unholstering the pistol I kept at my side. I aimed it at Sweeney’s head.
​
He stared at me like a slack jawed idiot.
“Would you like to give it a try?”
“W-what…?”
“Would you like to give it a try, Mr. Sweeney? Or would you like to see the sun tomorrow?”
He stared down the barrel of my gun, and I already knew what his choice would be.
​
Sweeney took a step back. I saw his hand move away from his holster, and I lowered the gun with a huff.
“Thought so,” I said.
Mr. Sweeney left me without another word.
I knew he would not return.

Someone on this /r said to me, that I should focus Mid/Bot
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Just played Jungle Qiqi, was helping from the beginning, trying my best, only slighlty trying to help Top, mostly focusing on Mid and Bot
Our Bot was Fed, me and Mid were slightly ahead, Kha'Zix randomly started One-Shooting, but whatever
Enemy Top was Olaf, dude became fucking Raid Boss, he casually 1vs4 or 1vs5 us (not sure)
My ADC was going Front-Line instead of Back-Line (I'm suprised he died only 4 times)
My Team didn't listen to my calls, so we barely got any objectives
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Other Game, I had bad start against Yone...
But he was making mistakes (like overstaying), so I got some Gold in return
I focused on helping my Team (my ADC was salty from the beginning), my Jungler at first was helping, later he started to wander aimlessly,
our Teemo was staying in Bush instead of helping me,
our Lucian stayed in the back without doing anything usefull, only being toxic and going in like an idiot later which also killed me, which caused Game to end faster...
In the Late Game only Brand (and me) was trying, even though he was flamed by Lucian with no reason (I mean, he started with Tear as Supp, but whatever)
Like, I'm losing 34 fucking LP, while gaining maybe 20 on average
Like, I'm far from being good with Qiqi, but this is just fucking bs
I never belived in ELO Hell, as I reached Gold maybe 1.5 Year after staring to play LoL, and next 3 Years I was stopping playing while being close to reaching Gold, as I was getting unlucky which made me bored...
But this Year I just fucking can't, no matter what I do, I can't fucking Rank Up, I get like 8 Win Streak, then I lose most of the Games, and I lose soo much more LP than I gain that I'm in a fucking lack of words...
In previous Years I used other Champs, last Year I even abuse Wukong and Rammus, but currently I find only Qiqi fun
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Edit: While I get Auto-Filled into ADC, I usually Win without much effort, like - I hate this Lane, and I still Win while being forced to Play it, yet I can't do much with Qiqi, even when Fed
Yeah, Skill Issue... but, like - something ain't right

I met my girlfriend in college and we dated all throughout. Fast forward to March 2023. She told me she wanted to take a break for mental health reasons, family issues, and that she felt like she needed to find herself. It took me a few days to accept this but I eventually did. We didn’t talk for 2 weeks and I end up sending her a letter telling her that i missed her and want her back, which she agreed to.
When we got back together I asked her if she had gotten with anyone or did anything with anyone else and she promised she didn’t on multiple occasions. In April, about 2 weeks later, I went through her phone and found out she was lying and was texting another man who was sending her explicit pictures and saying how much he misses her and wants to see her. I confronted her and we got into a huge argument where she told me they met on the train on her way home from work and that she never did anything but text and FaceTime him. It took about 2 weeks for me to fully accept this and her promising to be fully devoted to me for me to let this go.
Throughout May, this took a toll on the relationship and I felt myself becoming insecure and untrusting of her, so I began arguing a lot about who she was with or where she was which admittedly made me come off as insecure and weak. Despite this, she kept assuring me she loves me and wants nothing else but to be with me.
Fast forward to Tuesday. She breaks up with me over text message saying that she loves me but cant be my partner and it wouldn’t be fair to me to continue to pursue her if she doesn’t feel the same way. I told her i love her but I accept her decision and I haven’t reached out to her since.
This is where things get interesting.
Last night one of our mutual friends invited a small group over for some drinks and a game night. We were both invited but my ex made a last minute excuse saying that she wasn’t feeling well and was headed home but also turned off her location with our mutual friend. Our mutual friend told me this and asked what was wrong so I filled her in on everything from above.
I ended up asking our mutual friend about her male best friend who my girlfriend always swore never liked her. I find out that in high school, he was obsessed with her and would buy her things and that throughout wintesummer breaks in college, he would drive to her house and spend the night with his family on multiple occasions, something she never told me about.
I asked her multiple times if he was ever interested in her and she always denied it despite my gut feeling.
Even though we are broken up, it now seems like our entire relationship was built off mistrust. I want to confront her about this and tell her I hate her but I don’t want to throw our mutual friend under the bus and I don’t want to appear as weak and even more insecure.
How do I let this go because she is the most beautiful girl in the world, far out of my league, and while things were good between us, she was the most caring, thoughtful, and genuine person I ever met.
Any advice or words of wisdom would be great.
TL;DR girlfriend dumped me after 4.5 years, lied to me about her male best friend throughout the relationship.

Yeah..I just finished the manga and I have mixed feelings...I want to know more about the swordsmiths, I want to know more about the pillars , I wanted to see tanjiro master his new sword and sun breathing.. I really wanted tanjiro to fight or atleast meet kokushibo! I guess One piece spoiled me. I loved the pace , so the last chapter was kind of a surprise.. I didnt expect it to end so quickly. Personal feelings aside , I loved the manga, the story was nothing too crazy but it was well written and I could really feel the struggle Tanjiro went through to help Nezuko..The fights was the best part, until Muzan,I really hope they'll make that fight shine in the anime. Im not good with words, anyway, the ending was kinda sweet and sour but I enjoyed every bit of it.

Sorry I’m advance, on mobile. I just need to vent for a minute. I’ve been separated for a little over a year and divorced for about six months. For the first year of my separation, my ex lived in another city and only saw our son 3 times that year due to distance and other circumstances (we met in the middle once for a week long trip so they could see each other, and twice he visited our city for holidays). It’s not perfect, but I can at least say that we do our best to coparent well and be respectful of each others’ needs and desire to be around our kid.
Technically, I have 100% physical custody, but as long as my ex is doing well (he has a serious mental health condition that requires inpatient care at times) he sees our son most weekends for a bit and has him 2 days a week in the summer, and during the school year he’s just responsible for getting him on and off the bus on those days.
Early in the separation I lived with my mother for about 6 months, and she also has my grandmother living with her. I bought my own house at the end of last year and live 30 minutes from them now. I’ll be the first to admit it was a lot on everyone, and that it couldn’t have been easy having us show up on their doorstep, and I’m grateful, but they act like THEY are my son’s parents now, instead of my ex and I, and it’s starting to create serious problems.
Essentially, they seem to think they should also be factored into our custody schedule. They still see my son at least 1-2 times a week for family events or to meet for dinner. Yesterday, my mom called me and said “Well, I wish you’d at least let me have him one day a week, we used to see him every day, and now we don’t see him at all. Grandma (her mother, kids great grandmother) hasn’t seen him in forever!”
Guys, they saw him Monday for a Memorial Day picnic and Tuesday we met for dinner. This conversation happened on Friday and they live a half an hour away. They hadn’t seen him in two and a half days. That’s it.
My mother also got upset because my five year old “didn’t pay attention” to my grandmother.my mother and grandmother have a very problematic relationship and it’s a whole thing, but this is a constant theme. My grandmother has NO boundaries. She has tried to commission work on MY house without my consent to more suit her desires for how it should look. She bought me a bunch of clothes that she thinks will “look better on me” (she and my mother recently told me some short shorts I was wearing would make me a “laughingstock” because they didn’t like how I looked in them. They are of the opinion women who are mothers should only wear big sweatpant style shorts and sweatsuits for “modesty”). Did I mention, half of the clothes she bought me came from the men’s section at Walmart? I’m grateful for any gift, but this gift was specifically given with the intent to control me at best and insult/ hurt me at worst. She has done the clothes thing to me every year since I hit puberty. It’s a whole other thing, probably more suited to another sub than here, but just to paint a picture of who she is I thought I’d include that story here.
All this to say, this behavior bleeds over into her relationship with my child. She frequently will grab him as soon as he enters the home (like literally waiting at the front door and blocking off entry into the house, grabs his wrists and tries to kiss him and hug him even when he is screaming and literally sobbing and saying please stop). She also tries to pay him to kiss her. She will give him five dollars and then say “I gave you five dollars, now you have to kiss me.”
I find this behavior VERY PROBLEMATIC and have explained to them the lessons it could teach that would be negative. I put a stop to it each and every time but after six years, I still have not gotten any relief from their constant boundary breaking. They seem to think they have some kind of ownership of my son m, especially since the divorce, and a right to him. They don’t understand that my ex and I have a custody arrangement and that my ex will always come first. Not to mention of course that he could absolutely take me back to court to reassess a more formal arrangement if he felt I were abusing what we have now, which he would be well within his rights to do (and I would never abuse it).
On top of this, holidays are a nightmare for us now. Every time I don’t have my son for one or split it with my ex it’s a constant barrage of “how sad, WE never see him.” Or “next holiday Ex Husband doesn’t get him, we do!” Other extended family “Aunts, family friends, etc) have echoed this sentiment. Divorce is pretty rare in my family, so I guess it hasn’t been encountered much? Idk. I’m not the only one though.
THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS. I HAVE A CUSTODY AGREEMENT. MY EX AND CHILD DESERVE TO SPEND HOLIDAYS TOGETHER SOMETIMES.
Because I technically have full physical custody, I think they think that I can just fuck around and not include my ex in things as desired. First and foremost, my ex will always be my sons father. he is not perfect, and you can see evidences by previous posts that we have things that we don’t agree on.But he does have rights, my son loves him, and he is a good parent. Our custody agreement is written the way it is to protect our son in the event that my ex’s mental health does not allow him to make sound decisions as a parent for a period of time. I do not believe it’s right to take advantage of this to suit mine and my family’s will for holidays and other dates that he would be able to watch our son. It’s not fair to my ex, and it’s not fair to my son.
I explain to my mom that she’s always first on the list if my ex cannot take our son one day. She has retired so her schedule is pretty open, so typically she is able to take him even on short notice. I appreciate her immensely and I know he loves my mom very much as she is a wonderful grandmother, but his great grandmother also living there makes it difficult as she is unpleasant be around and has no respect for his wishes or mine as his parent. There’s also a whole other argument to be made about whether or not they’re physically capable of watching him due to their physical limitations, but that’s a whole other thing.
I’m exhausted to the point of tears. I hate it. I have no boundaries, no life of my own. Even my divorce has somehow become about them, and this is reflective of how my entire life has gone.
Anyone else have extended family who is just so disrespectful if custody arrangements? I feel like most peoples problem is with their ex not respecting it, but here I am having to fight my own family.

There are a few points in this album that I find give me shivers or otherwise just click a particular part of my brain while listening.
Initiating Transmission The riff (not sure if that is actually what it would be called) that has the same notes/rhythm as Hoots Patrol sounds so good as a little teaser of what's to come now that I can pick it out
Imperium Dundaxia When Zargo-clone returns and he says "Chaos! Evil!" Sonething about the way he says those two words I just really enjoy
Fife Eternal Noa's whole verse just feels good to me
Viral Laserblaster At the end there is the part where it is revealed that Zargo-clone got the laser blaster and the song ends with a callback to album 3 (could be wrong on the exact album, but I recognize it as an old pattern that I associate with Zargothrax)
Maleficus Geminus DUN DUN DOUBLE DUN DUN WIZARD - that and the Sephiroth chanting after it really just hit me every time
The Flaming Hammer refrain also just hits so perfectly for me. I love any sort of callback

(Hi, I'm Ben! I'm posting this for my friend and DM, K (she/they) and I'll be helping a bit in the process of finding players)
Welcome to Fold The Deck! It's a campaign in a homebrewed world that I began to design...somewhat recently? But due to my hyperfixation, I already have a ton of it done (most of it, really). In this world, you'll be playing as somebody of high social standing, someone that has to weave their way through the delicate nature of high society while also keeping your allies close and your enemies closer. In addition to this, there's a sinister plot going on in the background that you, and your newly found companions, just might have to stop in order to save your own skin.
We have two players currently! Each player is using one of the archetypes from Good Society as the launch point of their character; so far, the Heir and the Cornerstone have both been picked! Other than that, any of the archetypes are available as a starting point (again, that is as I'm writing up this message, so keep 1-3 in mind that you might want to play as! Your options, just in case you're unaware, include the following; The Socialite, The Dowager, The Dependant, The New Arrival, The first code word is Gambit, The Meddler, The Hedonist, The Tutor, and The Careerist).
The whole base concept of this is similar to the base concept for Dimension 20's 'A Crown of Candy', though I can promise that this will be nowhere near that brutal (at least, in terms of combat)! Except instead of Candy Land, this world (or at least, the society you're all playing in) is based on playing cards; more specifically, the game War (in which Aces are the most powerful (those are the gods of this realm), and 2s are the least powerful (the poorest of commoners)). So the social hierarchy is Aces (again, the gods of this realm; deity is the second code word), then the royal families (Kings, Queens, Jacks, and 10s), the nobility (9s, 8s, and 7s), the middle class (6s and 5s), and then the lower class (4s, 3s, and 2s). Your character will end up being a 6 at the very lowest!
The campaign will be beginning on the day before the most important event of the year, for commonfolk and royalty alike; The Festival, which is a one-month-long huge holiday event that happens during the exact middle of the year! I plan to have the campaign run through two separate festivals, so for at least a year and a month. And years last for 15 months in this world, so for at least 16 in-game months! Though we can certainly do more if the party wants to! I've had a lot of fun developing this world so far, and I can definitely find ways to expand upon the plot!
The day will be alternating Saturdays, and time is not decided yet. The time zone is EST but as long as you can make it to session your time zone doesn't matter. The reason for the rating is due to mature themes; also, myself and the current players are all adults, and we have an adult sense of humor. Also, there are themes that I don't feel comfortable exploring with minors, so if you're not 18 or older, please don't apply! Also, please don't apply if you're over 30; this is just a personal preference, I don't want to play with people that are more than a decade older than me, you know? Oh! Also! The final code phrase is 'The Horror, The Cat, and The Crow'. Thank you so much for reading my little posting! Oh, and here's the link to the Google application form! https://forms.gle/KxQ5Aninqj4sVDMs7

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Rough night, AI is ether non existent or in masses, randoms were not speaking and running head long into a PVP snipe trap. Open microphones! As it is I'm a easy kill and don't need any help.
Solo I go. I spawn on the freeway, right off I see the helicopter on a building roof and I thought why not. A few AI around the building and only five guarding the helicopter, off I went.
I spent the almost the whole game flying around the map, watching players running around in their custom tucks and running for their lives. I didn't know it was so easy to spot players from the air. I found it to be easy to refuel , at some gas stations the AI didn't even notice me hovering. Radiation was was spreading and my luck ended by the oil field , AI woke up. Chopper down, on foot but close to the ruins so down I went to my death. Damn sentry gun!
All in all it was a fun way to end a bad night.
GG .