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edenfenixblogs · 5 months

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For the record, the man accused in the shooting of the three Palestinian men was NOT JEWISH.

Please do not allow this terrible event to contribute to antisemitism or retaliatory Islamophobic violence.

James J. Eaton, the accused, is a white Christian man whose mother thought he was decorating a Christmas tree she gave him at the time of the shooting.

Many of us—Jews/Muslims/Israelis/Palestinians/Arabs—have been BEGGING those who claim to be our allies to dispense with violence and violent rhetoric against all of our communities precisely because we all know that these kinds of things happen as a result.

When I say that the rhetoric and tone you use online and the dogwhistles you espouse thoughtlessly can get people killed, this is what I’m talking about.

We all know that you want to be on the “right” side of history. But you have to want peace for all MORE than you want the self righteously fulfilling feeling of being right. This is not a game. People in your country are dying because people who claim to want to help are hurting everyone instead.

The only sides in this conflict are peace vs war, love vs hate. We must all be united in our desire for peace, not by our (self-proclaimed)“righteous” fury.

If you are demonizing Israel and Israelis and Jews or Muslims and Arabs and Palestinians, you are not only on the wrong side. You are not even on a side that can possibly be right.

Your personal political identity is irrelevant. Being a leftist/liberal/progressive doesn’t mean you’re immune to being hateful and Islamophobic and antisemitic. Being right wing/conservative doesn’t meant you are, either.

So, once again, I’m BEGGING YOU ALL: please tone down your rhetoric. Learn what dog whistles affect all parties in this conflict and then stop using them. Elevate the voices of people working for peace, not victory. And spend more time learning from those more familiar with the conflict than you do from those speaking most loudly about it.

And for the love of G-d. Please learn to interrogate a source for credibility before sharing it.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #islamophobia #Islamophobic violence #Palestine #Vermont shooting #I/P #i/p conflict #inflammatory rhetoric #physical assault #gun violence #gun violence TW #Palestinians #hate speech #hate crimes tw #hate crimes #jewish muslim solidarity

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neuroticboyfriend · 10 months

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touching or pushing someone's mobility aid without their consent is assault. don't touch us, and dont touch our aids (which we often see as extensions of our bodies) unless we genuinely tell you it's okay. an unsure yes is a no. a yes under coercion is a no. either respect our boundaries or stay far, far away.

#softspoonie #physical assault #ableism #mobility aid user #mobility aids #mobility aid #wheelchair users #wheelchair user #<< im not one yet but ik this post is especially relevant to yall #rollator user #rollator #cane user #canes #walker #physically disabled #disabled #disability

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acourtofladydeath · 4 months

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TTBW Chapter 2

Cassian's healing journey beings, and Emerie tells her story.

New tags include discussions of cycle/period discrimination.

Start reading under the cut or on AO3!

Tensions were high outside Cassian and Nesta’s room at the House of Wind. Emerie, Azriel, and Rhysand had been sitting in the hall over a day as Madja and a team of her best healers worked on their friend’s mangled wings. Nesta refused to leave his side. Madja allowed her to stay in the room only as long as Nesta agreed to follow all instructions and stay out of the way, which she had. There was no time to fill anyone in on his status. While the camp lords had not intended to kill Cassian, the combination of the paralytic, faebane, and the shock to his system from trauma and blood loss had caused his body to shut down quickly.

Rhysand had never seen Madja call for so many extra healers. Typically she brought along an apprentice or two to train. On particularly bad occasions, like after the King of Hybern had shredded Cassian’s wings and Azriel had been stabbed by Jurian, he and Morrigan had lent a hand. Madja called for six additional highly trained hands, and specifically refused the help of any apprentices or the Inner Circle. Such a thing was unheard of.

As they waited, Emerie leaned against the wall, arms folded and one leg kicked back. Rhysand had slid down the wall several hours ago. Now his legs were bent up to his chest, elbows rested on his knees, and his head hung heavy in his hands. Azriel stood rigid by the window, unable to break his stare from Cassian’s door. Emerie watched him flex his hands and knew what ran through his mind. She knew what he must be reliving after what Cassian had endured because she was reliving it too. Their scars ran deep.

Loss, damage, physical, mental, and emotional pain that no amount of training could prepare anyone to live through. This was trauma in its purest form, and Cassian was not the only one injured. Emerie shut her eyes tight as she tried to push away the memories that had threatened to consume her from the moment Nesta had recognized the agony in Cassian’s wings through their bond the night before. The images and phantom pains that Emerie still fought back daily had only gotten stronger after what she’d witnessed in that tent.

Hours later the door to Cassian’s room opened and Madja, exhausted and flecked in more blood than anyone was comfortable acknowledging, entered the hallway. Rhysand was instantly on his feet. Azriel remained still, but Emerie took a step off the wall, arms still crossed and wings held in tightly to stave off the pains. Rhysand quickly approached the healer, expectation written across the wrought lines of his face.

Madja stared down at the floor. This healer, a female whose skills went beyond all others, one of the only people in all of Prythian who could order the High Lord around, could not meet his eyes. Rhysand’s eyes bore down on her. Emerie tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, tried to remember that he was in pain, but she did not like the way he looked upon his master healer.

With a deep breath, Madja raised her head and squared her shoulders to address Rhysand. Her face was schooled in a practiced calm as she began to speak with a steady voice. “We have stopped the blood loss, and managed to prevent amputation. His organs were shutting down and we almost lost him, but I am now sure that physically he will survive this.”

“His wings,” Rhysand cut in, voice hoarse from lack of use and water. As he continued to speak his tone was harsh as he asked the question Emerie already knew the answer to. “Will he fly again?”

“No,” Madja said, voice firm and sure though it sounded like she did not want to be. “His wings were too damaged and there was noth-”

“You have to do something. He can’t not fly,” Rhysand said, voice rushed and angry as he took one step toward the healer. “He has to fly, Madja. You have to do something. His wings have been bad before, and you’ve always fixed him.”

Emerie watched as some small part of the healer permanently broke, and she stepped forward to try and prevent the crack from growing further. “Thank you, Madja, for saving his life. We are so thankful. Is there anything that you need us to do?”

Madja looked gratefully at Emerie for a brief moment before she responded. “No, thank you dear. Nesta has all the instructions and we will visit again soon. He needs rest before we work again.”

Emerie smiled warmly at the female as she kindly nodded her response. Madja ushered the healers, all in various states of dishevelment, out of Nesta and Cassian’s room before they left the House of Wind together as one with Morrigan as their guide. Em watched them leave as she used her body to create a barrier between the healers and the High Lord. Azriel still had not moved from where he stood, eyes locked on the door that was once again shut. When they had gone and she was certain they were out of ear shot, Emerie turned angrily upon the males behind her.

“Are you proud of yourself,” Emerie spat at the High Lord, who was still fuming mad about the now undeniable fact that his friend would no longer be able to fly.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Rhysand retorted as anger rolled off of him in dark waves.

Emerie cocked an eyebrow at the High Lord, her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah? Nothing wrong? You do know that your words have an effect on people, correct? You had no right to guilt her like that.”

“I did no such thing. I simply asked-”

“No,” Emerie said back. She wanted to shout, but she knew that Cassian and Nesta did not need to hear this right now. To try and preserve their peace, Emerie worked to keep her voice low, yet strong. “By bringing up the past times she was successful, you just confirmed to Madja that you believe this was likely her biggest failure to date. And it’s not. There’s no way to recover from the wounds he received. He’s lucky to be alive right now.”

Continue reading on AO3.

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questioningespecialy · 8 months

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Black News: Roda Bashe's assault by brick... and the aftermath

cw: physical assault, swelling

“Y’all, this man just hit me in my face with a brick and all these Black men just watched. This man...grabbed a rock and hit me in my face because I wouldn’t give him my number,” Bashe said in the footage. “What have I ever done to anybody in my life to deserve this?” she continued, now recording herself from a hospital room. —Candace McDuffie, The Root (2023/09/08)

After the incident, Roda Bashe received medical care at a nearby hospital where she stayed for several hours and was finally discharged with a concussion. A GoFundMe was created for Bashe by friend Kiara Davis, and it has raised $37,000 and counting for medical expenses. —Sayou Cooper, Daily Dot (2023/09/06)

There's lots of platforms and podcasts that are teaching men how to control, but not enough are teaching y'all how to care. —Jameelah Jones @sunnydaejones, TikTok (2023/09/06)

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askdiscordwhooves · 2 years

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And thus ends this arc. So that I have time to gather asks and script ahead while keeping up a decent queue in order to give guest artists plenty of time to draw more updates, I’m going to take a break on updates for the rest of the month and begin updating again in November.

We’re getting closer and closer to the end, and I think as long as I can keep up the pace with guest artists, I can have Discord Whooves finished by the end of 2023!

Anyways, send your asks! I’m sure you’re dying to see what happens next!

#discord whooves #doctor whooves #doctor who #my little pony #minuette #murder #violence #physical assault #abuse #strangulation #choking #bruises #blood

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hakeem0n · 7 months

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No amount of therapy, substancies and medication has ever helped me to feel less paranoid and hyper vigilant all the time. I feel like I can't drop the guard for a second. I feel like I have no control over my body and life. I can't trust anyone anymore.

Living like this is exhausting.

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gangviolets · 1 year

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#violet aesthetic #ill break your fucking legs #violet #maiming #my edit #violence #not my picture #harm #physical assault #horror

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fire-to-fire · 1 year

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Being a child abuse survivor means not fully realizing until years after the fact that other adults abused you because it was so normalized.

#child abuse survivor #actuallyabused #child abuse #physical child abuse #physical assault #emotional abuse #child abuse tw #abuse tw #emotional manipulation #religious trauma #actuallytraumatized

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ernestofparis · 1 year

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I was physically assaulted today.

I’m a night owl, and that means I go out at the middle of the night, put my headphones in, and allow the night soul of the city to meet me. I’ve done this a million times.

This early morning, almost getting home after a rather interesting adventure, I feel arms wrapping around my neck. They slowly pin me to the floor, when the second wasted cumshot of a guy appears, holding a gun. The usual; they tell me to shut up, to give them my wallet (which I didn’t have at the time) and my phone, asking also for the password in a probably fake Venezuelan accent, probably to discredit them. I was too scared, so I fumbled and wasn’t able to give it to them (maybe for the better). This caused him to beat me with the butt of his weapon. Next thing I know, the cunt that hugged me from behind was showing me my broken chain with my medal, stained with my own blood, telling me “look what you did”, as if the blood was his. He was even claiming my blood as his own, while blaiming me for spilling it. He then starts to take my jacket off. They let me take my ID and my keys, then to leave me on the ground. I ask them If I can take out my SIM card, and the guy in the gun tries to help, but just can’t be bothered. I watch them walk away. I then realise they took my headphones too.

There is too much to be said and felt. These escapades du flâneur were sacred to me. These nights were sacred to me. That path was sacred to me. They violated them by rendering me helpless to their inability to make a living in a decent way.

And then, all the feelings of anger and revenge that turn me into an animal, making me probably worse than them. I still know I’m better, because I restrained myself. And there was the silver lining:

My restraint somehow led my mind into a rabbit hole that concluded in the most necessary and strange of gardens. I find my higher self telling me, inside my mind, swearing to God and ourselves, that all the lies that my family, my schools, and the narcissists that have come into my life are not true. He’s begging me to believe him, and miraculously, after years of struggling to get out of the black hole of depression and self assured insufficiency, I realise that it’s true: They’re lies, warped by those who refused to see me, and woven by my own despair to go along. And suddenly, like my jacket, that fabric was gone, and its cold absence shows me my real reflection in the most objective mirror I’ve ever gazed myself into.

Don’t ask me why this happened then; why did such violence catalyse such a path in my mind. But it did. And along the other things I’ve been learning recently, I can now see how the hope that I’ve lately gotten back will come to be.

Right now I’m processing the first stages of trauma. At first it was waves of anger and aggression directed towards the poor bastards that don’t know what else to do with their lives. But now I’m starting to feel the helplessness, fear, and notes of despair of having gone through that. And I’m tired. I feel defeated. And yet, it feels normal; I’ve just gone through a traumatic event. But above that, it feels ok because I can see the field of wheat that I’ve been promising myself for years, just outside the walls of the magnificent, cold and dead castle that has been keeping hostage all these years.

I guess I’ll always have the castle. But it’s time for me to get out on the world, so I can come back to fill it with the life we both deserve.

#physical assault #growth #catalysis #trauma #plot twist #healing #I still want my things back tho

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kimium · 10 months

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Chapters: 4/? Summary:

Canon Divergence. University AU. Mafia AU.

“Let’s leave. We’re not sticking around here,” Yuu said as they began to walk through the tall grass. If they were lucky, they’d run into someone that was willing to help and not ask many questions.

“Well, well what do we have here?”

Yuu jumped, a scream bursting from their lips. Grim squirmed out of their arms and floated in mid air, his ear flames bursting brighter. Standing in front of them was a man wearing the most ornate outfit Yuu had ever seen outside of cosplay inside an anime convention. Clearly going for a steam-punk like style crossed with opera, Yuu couldn’t tear their eyes away from the birdlike mask or the feathers adorning the long cloak with ends that looked like bird wings.

“Goodness gracious!” the man exclaimed, a little too cheerful. “You’re not from this world.”

In where Yuu is summoned to a strange new dimension (by an occult) and will find their way home (and solving the mystery to why they were summoned in the first place) through the power of accidentally befriending the local organized crime fractions. (Or Yuu is accidentally the most powerful person in this world through the power of Friendship.)

Hello everyone. It’s me again with another chapter. I know I mentioned writing my FE fic but I had an idea for this one spring up last night. So, I ended up working on this fic again. I hope you like this next chapter! Let me know!

#personal #writing #twisted wonderland #multi chaptered fic #gender neutral pronouns for yuu #physical assault #attempted kidnapping #biting #more tags in the fic

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walkingtravestybutstillsmiling · 10 months

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I had the worst luck lately. I got into an accident this morning and by the looks of it my car is totaled. I moved into a new apartment yesterday which is great but I had to get out of a shitty situation. My ex boyfriend physically assaulted me so I’ve been just staying at a friends. So it was looking up when I got my new place but today with my car. This sucks. Im not sure what to do financially. And it’s just a lot.

#personal #trigger warning #physical assault #domestic violence #car accident #bad luck

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murdockmeta · 9 months

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-He deserves better than this! He was a good man!

#daredevil #daredevil volume 4 #daredevil the man without fear #daredevil battlin jack murdock #jack murdock #matt murdock #young matt murdock #daredevil comics #child abuse #abuse #tw child abuse #physical assault #physical abuse #daredevil edit #daredevil fan edit

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gawayne · 1 year

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ughh SORRY BUT I HAVE TO SAY IT the people you meet in engineering are just by and large so unpleasant I hate it here

#DONT get me wrong there are at least three very cool eng students here #but fuckign. come on we have to admit it. the structure of the program makes you worse and more annoying #out of stress out of competitiveness whatever #yknow what I’ve never heard in english class or art club? earnest discussions of crypto #elon musk fangirling #clique-forming based on whether you have a fucking pilot’s license #using gay as an insult like it’s 2014 #physical assault #etc #christ be normal for a bit!! talk about something that doesn’t make me wanna kill myself!#tbh think the issue might be that smart mean rich kids either go into mech/elec or medicine #and there’s nowhere else in the country for aero freaks to go so they all end up here. revving their audis at 10pm and cutting off busses #no joke every few months I’m like huh I should try to make friends in this program. and I go to a social event or talk to someone or w/e #and then I remember that they are not fun to hang out with because I don’t invest or like cars or want a plane or drink #and I am not willing to sit thru that discussion until someone brings up something more interesting. usually there isn’t anything #see our capstone group works bc it’s full of adhd bitches. today we talked about eggs for an hour #ughhhhh. genuinely I think it’s weird how many ppl don’t have hobbies beyond gaming drinking and investing and I fundamentally can’t get #along with them and that’s why all the cool engineers are found in art club #or maybe I’m just insane and annoying who knows

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acourtofladydeath · 4 months

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TTBW Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of TTBW has now been posted to AO3. Please make sure you read all tags with every chapter of this fic that is posted. I will be updating as I go. Read the beginning before the cut, and the entire chapter here!

Nyx shrieked joyfully in his uncle’s grasp as Cassian banked to the right. The wind caught both their wings, Nyx’s still so small and delicate as they flew. Cassian held his nephew tightly around the waist as he tried to get the mischievous four year old to get used to the feeling of the air as it rushed past the diaphanous structures still developing within his wings.

As they leveled out, Nyx’s wings went limp and he clapped his hands together, “Uncle Cassie again, again!” Cassian chuckled softly to himself as he looked out over the waters next to the River House where he held his flying lessons with Nyx.

“Okay little pyxie, but you’ve gotta hold your wings out for me! Big and strong, like we talked about.” Cassian could feel as Nyx held his breath and braced his wings out from his tiny body. Nyx’s wings were still so small they barely went past the breadth of Cassian’s shoulders. “Look I’m doing it!!” Nyx shouted back at him. As he peered over his little shoulder the young male’s violet eyes shined with excitement at his achievement. Cassian could barely hold back his own tears as pride rushed through his body. He choked back his emotion as he spoke encouragingly to his nephew.

“You’re doing it big guy!” Cassian made sure they were close enough to the shore that the rest of the family could see Nyx’s achievement before he prepared to bank again. “Alright Nyx, think you can hold them steady for this turn?”

“I’m a big boy! I can do it.” The determination in Nyx’s voice sent another burst of emotion through Cassian as prepared to bank. “Okay, on the count of three buddy. One… two… three!”

Cassian softly curved above the shore and Nyx’s wings stayed stretched wide through the entire turn. Nesta, Azriel, Rhysand, and Feyre all cheered from the shore as the pair flew by. Once they were out of the turn Cassian landed, he turned his nephew in his arms to face him.

“I did it! I did it!” Nyx shouted and raised his still plump little fists in the air in celebration.

Cassian held him in one arm as he also fist pumped the air in celebration and laughed along with his nephew. “You did such a good job Nyx!”

When Nyx had calmed slightly, Cassian knelt and placed the little male on the ground to stand before him. Nyx looked intently into his uncle’s eyes as Cassian placed one hand on his shoulder. “Now, remember what we talked about. Your wings are still growing. They’re not as strong as mine or your dad’s or Uncle Az’s yet.”

Nyx looked at his uncle intently as he spoke, but chimed in “or mommy’s right? She has wings too! But not all the time, like daddy. She can put them away. But I can’t.”

Cassian smiled at his nephew, the intuitive little bugger. “That’s right. Your mom and dad have different wings. But you and I can’t take our wings off and we can’t put them away. What does that mean Nyx?”

Nyx looked seriously back at Cassian, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “It means I have to be extra super careful not to hurt them. They’re my wings and no one else's and I only get one pair so I have to take care of them.”

“Yes, exactly bud, great job. What else do you have to remember about your wings?” Cassian smiled encouragingly at Nyx to continue.

The little male responded with sincerity, eyes and nose still scrunched tight. “That no one else can touch them unless they ask and I say it’s okay, and I should only say it’s okay if I know them extra super well like you or Uncle Azzie.”

Cassian nodded. “That’s right, little pyxie. You did a great job today, you know that?”

A huge grin spread across Nyx’s entire face at his uncle’s compliment. He responded eagerly as he excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet. “Does that mean I get to fly all by my own next time?”

Cassian chuckled as he responded. “Not so fast, big guy. Before our next lesson I want you to work on your wing flaps for me. We need to make sure your muscles are big and strong so they can support you without my help okay?”

Nyx looked down at his feet, a defeated look on his face leaving his bottom lip slightly wobbly. Cassian used his free hand to tilt his nephew’s gaze back up to meet his. “Hey, don’t get upset. You’re doing so well! Only a few more lessons okay? And then you and I can fly over the river together but separate, I promise.”

The young boy, so small and new to life, perked up a bit at that as he responded. “You’ll take me first right? Don’t tell my dad but your lessons are my favorite. I want to fly together but separate with you first.”

Those damn emotions hit Cassian again at his nephew’s words and he swallowed back more tears. “I promise Nyx, the first time you’re ready to fly without one of us holding you, I’ll be the one to take you.”

Nyx rushed forward and hugged his uncle, arms wrapped so tightly around Cassian’s neck he could barely breathe. But he’d never stop Nyx from embracing him like this, not in a million years. Once the tiny bat let go, he raced off to tell his mom and Auntie Ness all about how well he did in his flying lesson. Cassian stood and brushed off his knees as his brothers approached.

“Well, that went well,” Rhysand said as he stood next to his Cassian with a proud smile on his face.

“He’s doing so well, Rhys. I don’t know many younglings that can fly as strongly as he is at that age.” Cassian stared off after his nephew as he raced into Nesta’s arms. His mate scooped Nyx up into her grasp with ease and twirled him around as pride shone across her features.

Rhysand watched where Cassian’s gaze fell and joined his soft reverie as Feyre hugged her arms around Nesta, which left Nyx sandwiched between the sisters and showered in love. Azriel, ever the serious brother, cut into the soft moment.

“Cass, we wanted to talk to you about tomorrow.” Rhysand raised his eyebrows and looked over toward their brother, already masked in nervous shadows. “Way to really bury the lead Az,” before he looked toward Cassian, a look of sincerity on his face, “but he’s not wrong Cass.”

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest as he looked between his brothers, who both wore concerned expressions. “Alright, you two look like scouts with horrible information who don’t want to spill the news. Well, spill.”

Rhys straightened his posture while the shadows flurried more quickly around Azriel’s shoulders. It was the High Lord who spoke first. “I know you’ve been really looking forward to tomorrow and think it will make a big difference in your and Nesta’s plans in Illyria but-”

Azriel cut Rhys off stoney faced, “Cassian there have been serious death threats. Are you sure it’s really a good idea for you to let loose with these men when they’re the very same ones calling for your head on a spike?”

Cassian huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “You sound like Nesta. Look, Az, you have your mission in Autumn tomorrow, and Rhysand has Velaris to guard with Mor and Amren gone.” Cassian clapped a hand on each of his brother’s shoulders as he said with more confidence than he actually felt, “I’ve received more death threats than the three of us combined could count. Nothing’s gone wrong before, why would it now?”

His brothers looked obviously unconvinced by Cassian’s attempt at bravado. “Look, Devlon will be there. He’s been on our side since day one of this rebuild. Nesta, Emerie, and their Valkyrie unit won’t be far either. I know you’re concerned.” Cassian ran a hand through long curls as he spoke, his true anxiety on full display.

“I’m concerned too, but we are at a stalemate. My job is to fix Illyria, to make her something that all three of us can truly be proud of. A place we work with, not just order around when we need them.” Cassian met Azriel’s shadowed stare before he locked eyes with his High Lord’s piercing violet gaze as he said his last piece. “Let me do my job Rhys, let me help Illyria.”

Continue reading on AO3.

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larryy223 · 1 year

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The Never-Ending Tunnel

There’s a trail that runs through my town called the Trail of Discovery. You may not recognize the name, but if you live in my town, you've probably walked through parts of it.

I live in a relatively suburban neighbourhood that the Trail of Discovery runs through. My parents were never really weary of the trail; in fact, we walked our dog on that trail almost daily.

My siblings and I were allowed to walk wherever we wanted, except for the northern part of the trail. My parents were and still are not superstitious in the slightest, but the legend that originated from that area north of the trail always seemed to scare them a bit.

You could almost always find at least one person on the trail, but as you got further north, there were never any people. There’s a road people often bike down to get to the other neighbourhoods around my area. To travel to that road, you either have to bike up a steep hill or you can go through the tunnel, otherwise known as the Graffiti Tunnel. The tunnel is part of the trail and is filled with graffiti.

This is where the legend originated. According to the legend, the tunnel is like a portal. It is only a portal during the early hours of the morning. It’s said that if you enter this portal, what awaits you is death, for there’s a monster that is said to live there and doesn’t like visitors. If you encounter said monster, you won’t come out the same.

I was like my parents; I didn’t believe in that stuff. However, there have always been some strange characteristics of the tunnel. In the daytime, it took no less than what seemed like minutes to walk through.

In the evening, however, people would walk in at, say, 7:00 pm and come out hours later for no reason at all. Other people wouldn't come out at all and would either be missing or found dead in the tunnel. The police have always chalked it up to being homeless people since anyone can access that tunnel, but the survivor says differently.

"Survivor" Singular. His name is Bailey Kaplow, and his story is quite similar to the urban legend that has chilled my parents. This is his story.

It was around one in the morning when he approached the tunnel; he was playing on his phone and listening to music, with little to no sense of his surroundings. There seemed to be nothing odd about the atmosphere around him, as all he could hear were the sounds of the forest through the one headphone-less ear.

He started walking through the tunnel, not looking up from his phone once. After around 5 minutes, he realised he could still hear the echo of his footsteps as he walked through the tunnel. When he looked up, all he could see were the walls around him that were faintly lit from his phone screen. As he stood there looking around in confusion, his phone screen faded before turning off completely, leaving Bailey in complete darkness.

It was completely silent now, and he couldn’t hear anything. The crickets were gone, and his music had faded out with his phone screen. He closed his eyes in the hope that he would adjust to the darkness.

When he opened his eyes, he could see a bit better but not very well. He turned his phone’s flashlight on to see better, but no light was emitted from his screen. It was like the darkness absorbed the light. He decided to continue walking in the hopes that the street lamps would appear soon. He walked for what felt like hours, but there was no light, just darkness.

That’s when he heard it. a low growl coming from what sounded like a few feet away. He stood there, frozen. He hoped it was just a raccoon and that it would walk away, but then he heard it again. It was louder and closer this time. He stood there again, hoping it would go away. He was completely consumed by fear.

After a few seconds, he slowly started backing away, and soon he was turned around and running down the tunnel.

He could hear heavy footsteps following closely, the sound of growling never ceasing. He came upon a turn, and he turned down the tunnel and kept running.

He reached the end of the tunnel and realised the "thing" chasing him had stopped running, as had the growling. It was just staring at him.

Whatever it was, it didn’t look human but more like a monster with humanoid characteristics. Its eyes were a mix of red and black. His mouth was slightly hanging open. It was hunched over, making its arms hang by its knees. Its hands were the worst part. It only had four fingers on each hand, which were all covered with a dark substance that was stained onto its skin.

Bailey wanted to look away, but he couldn’t; it was so terrifying he couldn’t move. He finally looked away and saw a crawl space, which he quickly tried to crawl into, but that "thing" was too quick. He was halfway into the crawl space when it grabbed his legs. He let out a blood-curdling scream when it dragged him out and started dragging him through the tunnel.

He was clawing at the floor, looking for something, anything, to grab onto, but it was just flat concrete, nothing else. He was still screaming, but now hot tears started rolling down his face as the monster dragged him further and further down the tunnel. Its claws dug deeper into Bailey’s legs, breaking the skin.

As he was dragged down the tunnel, a million questions were going through his head, the most prominent one being, "What is it going to do to me?" He had been being dragged for what felt like forever; he’d given up trying to find something to grab onto and wiped the tears from his eyes.

When he opened them, he could see a dim light starting to shine from behind him. As the light shined brighter, the smell hit him like a brick.

It was the most putrid thing he’d ever smelled. Then he realised what it was. Rotting flesh. Even though the monster’s claws were completely dug into his skin, he started attempting to kick it. The monster never wavered; it kept pulling Bailey deeper and deeper into the tunnel.

The farther he got through the tunnel, the worse the smell got. It got so bad that he started gauging.

The growling came back, but this time it was different. It sounded angry; it was a sound Bailey had never heard before. Then the monster stopped, and as Bailey got a better listen, he realised it wasn’t angry. It was hungry.

Now that it was brighter, he could see the monster more clearly. It looked the same, but now he could see its teeth. They were rotten and covered in blood. The dark substance that was coated on its hand was blood, and it was splattered all over its body. Its breath was horrible, and it had a sick smile on its face. It was almost like it was playing hide and seek with Bailey, and it, the seeker, had won its game.

Bailey wanted to look anywhere but at the monster, and when he did, he only saw one thing. Bodies. There are hundreds of them strewn about. Some skeletons, some decaying as if taken only a few weeks ago, The smell made sense now, and it was just as putrid as ever.

Bailey began screaming again, but the monster didn’t do anything; he just stared at him. That sick grin never left, but then the "thing" started laughing. A high-pitched giggle that sounded as if it were a kid in a candy store. The monster was enjoying this.

The giggle went away as quickly as it had started. That’s when Bailey really got scared. He was squirming, trying anything he could to get out of the monster’s grasp. Nothing worked; Bailey knew he was going to die.

The growling came back. Bailey didn’t know if the monster was going to do anything, but then it did. It bit down on his abdomen and quickly ripped away his skin. Bailey let out a shriek. The monster started tearing and ripping at Bailey’s skin, making sure not to leave any part unscathed. Blood was everywhere, and Bailey was almost passed out due to the immense pain he was experiencing. The monster still had that grin on its face. It was a sadistic grin, even though it was so wide that there was no emotion in it.

The monster kept going until only Bailey’s face was left untouched. Bailey thought the monster had stopped. He was in an unbearable amount of pain, and he wondered how the other victims felt when they met their untimely demise. Then the monster bit into his stomach, tearing it out. Bailey let out a scream, a sound so loud that it made his throat burn.

For Bailey, that’s when everything went black. When he woke up, he was in the tunnel, but it was different. This time, it was the day. The sun’s bright light blinded him. Bailey looked down and realised he was ok. There wasn’t a scratch on him, as far as he could see.

When he found his phone and turned it on, he realised how long it had been. His phone had hundreds of notifications from friends and family.

It had been three days. He got up and went home, trying not to think about the incident.

When he went to change his clothes, he saw the mark. There were four claw marks going down his abdomen, still red as if he’d only been scratched recently.

Bailey tried to tell people what had happened, but no one believed him. They just kept saying he got drunk and passed out.

Only one person believed him, and that was me. There’s only one reason I believe him. That’s because I am Bailey.

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