Bitcoin Price Watch; The Morning After The Night Before ...

Bored? Looking for something to do? Start with this list of things to do in the Sacramento area.

(Credit for the below list has to be given to u/BurritoFueled, who created the original list in 2014 and updated it a year later. Almost two-thirds of the items below are still from that original list. All I’ve done with the list is revive it a little bit by updating dead links and making little tweaks when necessary. Also, thanks to those that submitted new additions to the list last week. Over a third of the below items are new and a lot of the original items have had newer information added onto them.)
People are always looking for something to do around here. Maybe you’re a transplant, unaware of what this area has to offer, or maybe you’re a lifelong resident, tired of the same old thing. Well friend, if you fall into the latter category, do not despair. There’s actually plenty of things to do in the Sacramento area – things of interest to almost any lifestyle, personality, or budget.
So, whether you’re an athlete, geek, eccentric, hipster, weirdo, sexual deviant or just a normal person looking for a new activity, below is a list of activities for you to try. Please note that it includes only activities that take place at least a few times a year – no one-off events or festivals here.
Enjoy this list. If you have any suggestions of your own to add, comment below in this thread. I'll try to keep this as up to date as possible.
Away we go.
UPDATED 10-6-20
(Note: Due to the current pandemic, some of these activities may be curtailed or not offered at all.)
submitted by PowerWindows85 to Sacramento [link] [comments]

The Reddit Bake-Off, Reddit-wide tokenization, and where NANO fits in the future of digital exchange.

I first learned about Bitcoin from a person I met at an interview in late 2017. My primary interest was Bitcoin, but at the time I saw how much profit early Ethereum adopters yielded and I envied them for finding such a successful project in its early stages. My first investment in cryptocurrency was Litecoin. I was attracted to the fact that, although it was essentially the same as Bitcoin, it was faster and slightly less expensive. I dove in and I got rekt.
As time went on I began to do research on different coins. I found Binance and started exploring alts. I'd look at the Binance chart, pick a coin, Google it, read their whitepaper (since I didn't understand the code, eventually I just judged a whitepaper by its aesthetic), and ultimately I would end up on their subreddit. That's how I found CryptoCurrency.
At some point in my journey, a new wave of confidence entered the market. People started talking in the Daily about a new coin that appeared on some weird exchange whose named I had never heard. They said it was instant and free and that it was the absolute epitome of what Bitcoin was meant to be.
Countless users suggested this coin would absorb the entire market cap of Bitcoin.
Its name was strange, RaiBlocks (XRB). I had bought in around $20 at the time the price went from $0-38 in a couple of weeks. Everyone was enthusiastic about the bull run, but it was the technology and its potential for worldwide application that people were excited about most.
Welp, some bad press and a couple of years later and we are now in the depths of obscurity and any mention of NANO in the Daily on CryptoCurrency, the same sub that birthed its popularity in the first place, is chastised. I sadly watched as NANO lost its clout and with it its price. Eventually, BrainBlocks died, which was my favorite project of all, and I exited completely. I even removed NANO from my watchlists because I knew if I saw it I would buy back in.
NANO fell off my radar entirely for about 4 months while I dove head first into DeFi. However, last night I saw the charts looking favorable for a breakout, so I re-entered. Then today as Bitcoin pumped and every other alt dumped, NANO miraculously jumped. I figured the trading bots still oddly tie NANO to Bitcoin and after seeing NANO as the only successful coin in a sea of red, I came back. I also thought maybe the developers knew something we didn't, and the price was increasing before something big was about to happen, but that's just wishful thinking.
Right now, the most exciting corner of the cryptocurrency space is far and away the fact that Reddit is now heavily involved in the future of cryptocurrency integration:
  1. The Great Reddit Scaling Bake-Off is a competition hosted by Reddit to help scale Ethereum well enough to efficiently manage the complete tokenization of Reddit.
  2. As an experiment, Reddit has begun given tokens to posters/commenters at two subreddits for upvoted content: Moons and Bricks at CryptoCurrency and FortNiteBR, respectively.
A user was even able to bridge Moons and Bricks to equivalent tokens on the xDai Network (xMOON and xBRICK), and are literally tradable. For example, I earned 425 moons last month and I bridged them to xMOON and traded them for ETH on Honeyswap. I earned ERC-20 tokens from Reddit, bridged them to another network, and sold them. This, ladies and gentlemen, is not only the beginning of the tokenization of Reddit. This is going to be the beginning of tokenization of everything.
NANO is faster and feeless. An infinite number of blockchains can be created on the block lattice. A community member even generated a Moons to NANO converter, right?
My question is: Is it possible for NANO to bridge ERC-20 and ERC-677 tokens from the Ethereum network to NANO sidechain equivalents. Fore example, NANOETH, NANOLINK, etc.? Why can't NANO participate in the Bake-Off and develop a protocol that bridges NANO and other tokens via sidechains? Is it possible to create a token for every single subreddit and have them run simultaneosly the NANO network? Why isn't NANO in the discussion for this and why haven't we entered the Bake-Off? Is this not the best use case for NANO and the best place to implement the protocol?
To be quite honest, I am back because I think NANO will succeed in some way and I imagine the developers have a plan for marketing with the next hype wave in cryptocurrency. However, if that is not the case, then this project is missing a serious opportunity to become a part of perhaps the single most important incoming disruptor in the cryptocurrency space and economics, err, soon-to-be tokenomics of our society.
People once thought this coin would absorb the entire market cap of Bitcoin, but it's been 3 years and other projects have gained traction and now the spotlight is on Ethereum. Yes, there will never be another coin as fast or as free as NANO, but there needs to actually be use for it for it to become valuable and have a place in the future.
Thanks for reading!
tl;dr - Reddit is tokenizing all subreddits and is actively hosting a competition in order to try to find the solution to Ethereum scaling, called the Bake-Off. I want to know if it is possible for NANO to participate in the Reddit Bake-Off and use its protocol to tokenize Reddit.
submitted by fatal_music to nanocurrency [link] [comments]

READ ME: Part 3


READ ME: Part 1
READ ME: Part 2
It was a few days of me relaxing just taking in the mellow mood that our Cecily- turned sea creature left me with her musical talents. Cecily also gifted me with a relaxing feeling.
It helped my anxiety in a way I can’t explain. I fed Doby, the fish I confiscated from the magical book, and bought him a new tank for my kitchen. I think he was another gift from Cecily. I was just happy I was able to put her soul to rest.
I spent all that Saturday setting up the sea salt tank fit with plants. Typically, it took time to set up a tank, but I didn’t exactly have time to do that with Doby. I even got him a few companions to keep him company.
Then a few days later, as I was feeding Doby admiring the new purple and turquoise blue decor, I felt a sudden need to cut my wrist. I felt like I was in a trance.
I walked over to the kitchen, opening the drawer pulling out a sharp knife, I began slicing my arm. I didn’t bleed much, but I had this overwhelming, depressing feeling coming over me. Then I heard my television pop on all by itself.
There was a news story about a young girl about sixteen years old that had gone missing. The report was dated three years ago. I knew then it was the book. Dropping the knife, I ran to get a paper towel and some alcohol to clean the wound I created.
I heard guns firing lasers, and I saw a blue light illuminating from the book. I took a big gulp; what was I getting myself into?
I opened the book to THE MURDER SHOW, which was the next story I was to read, and took a deep breath. I looked down and could see a tiny television featuring two teenagers playing a video game in a room. It was like I was watching a movie. One of them had short bleach blonde hair, the other had long black hair, and I recognized her as the missing teenage girl from the news that had just been featured on my television.
Instead of reading this story, I was watching it. I was hearing her voice inside of my mind, or maybe it was out loud. I couldn’t tell anymore.
I looked at the pages before me. They were turning on their own like an old fashioned picture book. I watched a girl as her eyes turned and faced me.
She had black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. She had a black t-shirt on with a ton of bracelets. Her thin face was pretty, but she didn’t smile.
Instead, I could do nothing except listen to the story titled:
THE MURDER SHOW
My name is Andrea Becker, and as long as I could remember, I wanted to die.
I know it sounds strange, but I looked at death as that permanent nostalgic return to your soul.
I swear I’m not a freak. I know I look the part, don’t get me wrong. I am cliche for someone my age.
Let me begin by telling you how it all began.
When I was ten years old, my grandparents were visiting from out of town. My grandmother was taking a shower, and when she got out, she screamed for my mother as she was having chest pains. She fell over onto the bathroom floor. The EMT’s were there in record time; maybe it was slow- I just know it was all a blur. I watched them trying to bring my grandmother back. My grandpa wasn’t home; he had gone shopping with my dad and older brother. So, I had a front-row to the tragic end of a woman I had loved so much.
Then I knew the exact moment she died. I saw her ghost or her soul, whatever you believe. It floated out of her body, and it LOOKED at me! My grandmother’s spirit looked at me and smiled. I knew then everything would be fine, but it wasn’t about me. It was about how at peace she was. I longed for that peace.
I lost my grandpa a few years later, but my grandmother’s death stuck with me. I started reading everything in the end. I knew it wasn’t simple science like some claim. You do leave your body when you die. Where you go is anyone’s guess, I just know what I saw that day my grandma died.
I had never considered killing myself. That was too weird. Then one day, my best friend, Carla, told me she liked to cut herself. She showed me her scars on her wrists. I was taken back by her self-harm.
“What if you go too deep?” I asked her.
“I have a couple of times, but I have gotten good at stitching myself up,” she smirked.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but sometimes it is the only way I can feel things. I just feel like the world gets to be too much sometimes, and I want to escape it. I just don’t want to die.”
That is when I looked at her. “I have always wanted to die,” I said tears in my eyes.
“What you mean, like kill yourself?”
“No, just be at peace.”
“I feel at peace after I feel that rush. Like I get a rush from the pain for a second, and it makes me less - I dunno how to explain it.”
“I get it,” I said, and my friend had become my best friend.
I never told her, but I started self-harming after that. I had to know if it would give me the peace that I longed for when my grandmother showed me that look in her eyes. Like AT LAST, she could rest!
Sadly, over the next few years, Carla and I stopped being so close. She started hanging with a posh stuck up crowd. I still craved death. There was little in common with the mean girls' squad.
At seventeen, I had become close friends with a guy named Paul, whom I had a lot in common. We both enjoyed Mr. Fraziers English class, played tons of video games, and enjoyed hacking.
Not like professional hacking, just silly stuff like the local website to our local pizza shop. We hacked into it to say that all the prices had been reduced to 99cents. Silly kid stuff. We were never caught.
Then one day, Paul came over with two of his laptops.
“I have to show you something.” He said to me, excitedly.
“You ever been on the dark web?”
I shook my head. “No way!”
“It isn’t all weirdos; I buy stupid shit on there like electronics. Lots of black market stuff. It isn’t all organs and creepers doing things to people.”
“You aren’t messing with those sites, are you?” I asked him, concerned.
“No, I just found one, though. I can’t tell if they are serious. It’s called THE MURDER SHOW.”
“What the hell, Paul?”
“No, I have everything blocked. They can’t find us. I wanted you to see these comments. It freaked me out.”
“You are on the DARK WEB PAUL!” I retorted.
“Listen, just look at this. Can this be real?”
I hesitated and then took his laptop and looked at the site. It was a chat room.
I read a few of the posts they talked about murder and the best way to do it. Then I read on.
Der786: YOU READY, RANDY? One poster asked.
RANDY01: YEAH JUST DON’T HURT ME TOO MUCH. Another user name responded.
Der786: YOU GET THAT INSURANCE FILLED OUT?
RANDY01: MY WIFE WILL NEVER WANT FOR ANYTHING EVER AGAIN.
What the hell?
Paul grabbed the laptop. “They let themselves be murdered for entertainment.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, one guy had cancer and didn’t want to live anymore. It even says on the disclaimer that this is the Doctor Kavorkian of murder sites. It is all pity kills. They won’t do it to healthy, happy, or well-adjusted humans. You must prove you are worthy, and they will do the cleanup, so no one ever finds out.”
“It is real. Turn it off, Paul.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought you would think it was at least interesting.”
“It is scary and unfortunate if I’m honest.”
Paul’s cell phone rang.
“Sorry, mom, yes, I forgot. I’m with Andrea. I’m coming.”
I looked at Paul, and he ran out and left.
He was gone, and so I continued playing a new video game that I had bought with my allowance.
I wasn’t paying any attention when I heard someone say, “I see you.”
Huh? I said to myself.
“You there! Girl with the black hair!”
What the hell? Then I realized that Paul had left his stupid laptop on the floor of my bedroom, and it was still on that silly murder site!
I peeked over my bed and looked down at the laptop, and just as I was about to close it, a man spoke again.
“Don’t close it yet; you had to come here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me what brought you here.”
“I- I didn’t. My friend found it by accident, and we weren’t interested in the site.”
“That is okay, so you were curious. Can I answer any of your questions?”
This was getting too weird for me.
“I am good. I think I get it.”
“Look, I get it. It’s real live dark web shit. I’d want to close the laptop and burn it too. Only I have seen you. How do you know I haven’t already tracked your address? How do you know I am not using facial recognition to figure out exactly who you are, Andrea Becker.”
He said my name. How did he know my name?
I was going to kill Paul.
I picked up the laptop and looked at the man who didn’t look like your typical weirdo. He was sitting at a desk wearing a polo shirt. He had a friendly smile and kind eyes. Suddenly I felt comforted instead of creeped out, and I didn’t know what it was.
“My name is Milton. I founded this site to let people let out a little bit of carnal steam. Tell me about yourself.”
“This is weird. I don’t know you.”
“Okay, I’ll begin. I’m married. I am a father of two kids. Jessica and Jenna. I work in management. This is just a side thing. I can assure you I am every bit as human as you are. So tell me, why do you wish to die, Andrea Becker?”
At that moment, it was like he had spoken to my heart. No one had ever spoken so honestly to me before. It was like having someone see your soul. At that moment, I thought, this is fate.
“Peace.”
I found myself speaking honestly, and even if I regretted it later, I couldn’t help it. It was nice to see that someone could read my mind. At least it felt like that.
“I think most of us who are empathic to the ways of the world feel the same way you do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sat up straight and leaned into the screen on my laptop.
I was beginning to feel much more comfortable than I had thought I ever would. It was strange to trust someone on the dark web like this, but there was something about this man. He had a hold over me.
“Tell you what, we are holding an event tonight at eleven, and I hope you will log on to join us to see what we are all about. I promise it isn’t what you think.”
“I will have to check it out,” I said, partially wondering if I wanted to have anything more to do with this man.
The screen went black, and I shut Paul’s laptop.
I decided to go downstairs to grab a wine cooler out of the fridge. It was almost ten o’clock, and my parents were asleep, so I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble.
I drank the crappy drink, thinking long and hard about what had transpired and wondering if I wanted to know what went on in this so-called murder show.
It was five till eleven, and my cowardice was in full force, so I turned on the television.
“A WHITE VAN IS THE SUSPECT IN THE MISSING TEEN’S DISAPPEARANCE IN FRANKLIN COUNTY. WITNESSES SAY THEY SAW YOUNG JAMES MADISON TALKING TO SOMEONE DRESSED AS A CLOWN AS HE WAS ON HIS WAY TO SCHOOL FRIDAY MORNING…”
I turned off the disturbing news program deciding I would see the big deal with this “murder show.” There could not possibly be any reason for this nice man I had talked to be part of some sympathy murder thing.
The screen was still black, and then I saw a small room come into focus. The chat room was coming alive with flower emojis, and last-minute thank yous and best wishes from viewers who were donating bitcoin to the website’s owner.
Then I saw a man sitting in a chair and typing away at his computer. Something oddly terrifying about it was because the viewers seemed to see it, but the man didn’t seem to have anything to do with the viewers as though he didn’t even know he was being watched.
I watched as some of the viewers suddenly were also aware of this fact.
RHONDA24: Do you think he even knows this is the last night on earth?
Davtelly45: Nope, that is how it works.
RHONDA24: I know, but I thought he would be more prepared. He has been with us so long here.
Davtelly45: He will die soon, but he will be better off.
RHONDA24: No more cheating wife, no more debt, and no more anxiety about what tomorrow will bring.
Sassy-maria: I’m so happy for him.
Davtelly45: Me too, girl.
IVANfist: I hope this one is bloody, though. I like them with a little bit of gore.
RHONDA24: I have to admit I do too. Maybe he will get slashed on the throat.
Davtelly45: I just want our boy to be happy.
IVANfist: Fuck that gore all the way!
I read the chat, and then I watched as the man sitting at his computer seemed to be working on something very intensely. That is when I heard what sounded like a doorbell ring. The man everyone was watching got up, and walked away. I guessed to answer the door.
Then I heard the sound of someone yelling. A man with a black mask on was soon dragging the man who had just been sitting at the computer into his office.
“No, I have changed my mind! Please, I don't’ want to-”
His throat was slashed in front of the computer. The slash was so deep it nearly decapitated the man who was only moments ago typing away at his laptop.
I gasped, watching the scene unfold before me. Then the chat room exploded.
RHONDA24: Bye, Randy. We will miss you.
UNKNOWN: no, we won’t.
Davtelly45: SO long, Randy. I hope you can now be at peace.
UNKNOWN: Randy will never be at peace now. Hope he rots in hell.
Davtelly45: WHo is this?
RHONDA24: I will miss Randy, but anything will be better than dealing with a cheating wife, too much debt, and not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I long for my day to rest.
UNKNOWN: You should just put yourself out of your misery.
Davtelly45: Seriously, what the hell? Guy, this is pretty insensitive. We are celebrating the life and death of a warrior.
There was some strange interference, and I shut off the laptop, unplugging it.
I texted Paul to get his stupid laptop, and he told me he would be over tomorrow to get it.
I was sick to my stomach.
Had a real-life murder just taken place?
I knew without a shadow of a doubt it had.
I was paralyzed with fear and yet oddly jealous. I secretly wished I would be able to feel that peace that Randy felt. It terrified me, though, to no end.
\***************
I woke up the next morning and prepared for school. I had strange dreams of the people on the computer screen. I had dreams of them talking about me the way they had Randy.
I was sweating when I got out of bed, and I readied myself for school and what the new day would bring.
Paul came over after school to get his laptop, and I made sure I didn’t mention what happened the night before. I just wanted that website out of my life.
Paul seemed unphased by the fact I had his laptop. He had a few, so what was one going missing?
Following that incident, I stayed off my computer as much as possible. Then I had to log onto my own laptop to finish a school project about two weeks later.
When I logged into my email, there were many messages from a person that called themselves FALCON.
“Andrea Becker, this is FALCON, Milton wanted me to let you know that he knows you logged on to watch Randy transition, and he wanted to see how you were since viewing our little show.”
I deleted the messages. I didn’t want anything to do with these weird people.
As I had this thought, I got an instant message from MILTON.
Milton: Andrea, I am sorry you seem alarmed by Randy’s transition. Tell me, how did that make you feel? It is okay to feel scared, terrified, sad, angry, or all of the above.
I looked at what he was typing, and that same sweet consoling man made my guard go down. I would have asked him how he got my email, but I already knew that if it were easy for them to get my name, how much harder would it be to get my email?
Milton: Andrea?
Me: Hello, Milton. I don’t know how I feel about what I saw. I don’t think I want anything to do with this.
Milton: Andrea, talk to me.
Me: I don’t know what to say. You killed a man.
Milton: Yes, but he wanted it. We helped him transition. We can help you.
I looked at what he was saying. I had wanted so badly to feel at peace and lose all of my earthly worries, but this was too much too fast.
Me: I have to go to Milton.
Milton: Andrea Becker, reconsider. You don’t have to participate, but we are people that understand you. I read your online diary, your poetry, and I know what you wish for.
I was stunned and felt violated. How did they hack into my online diary? It was private thoughts on my blog site I never made public. I was terrified, and then Milton said something else that made me reconsider.
Milton: I have seen your interactions with others. We have watched you interact with your friends. We know it wasn’t you that initially found our website. We don’t care. We welcome you. We only ask that you keep our little secret to help others like yourself, and like Randy.
I don’t know what made me do it. I began to trust Milton. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel weird about my feelings on death. These people seemed to understand.
Me: I feel so weird talking about it.
Milton: It is hard to acknowledge your feelings at first, but once you do, you will begin to understand.
Me: Are there others like Randy?
Milton: We try not to allow too many transitions at once. We give people time to mourn in our community after someone transitions. We have another coming up at the end of the month. This person has yet to be named.”
Me: How does it work?
Milton: We take a vote on who is next. Once the vote is in, the nominee gets contacted through a congratulations email to give them time to tie up loose ends. Then they are not told the day or time of their death. We feel that it would ruin the transition.
Me: What if they change their mind?
Milton: They are given no way to back out. It is in our clause. If you are on track for transition, which I feel you are, just being a part of our community is an agreement. You have already witnessed a transition - an illegal act. So you have already agreed to the clause.
Me: What about you?
Milton: What about me?
ME: Can you transition?
Milton: I will in time. My agreement was after my children will be old enough to understand. Once they are, then I will join others like Randy and you.
“Oh,” I typed
Milton: I have to go now; it was nice chatting with you. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, we are here. We understand how you feel.
He logged off the chat, and I sat in front of the chat. Then another name popped up.
RHONDA24: Hello, Andrea.
I didn’t respond right away.
RHONDA24: I just want to let you know if you ever need a friend. I am not much older than you, and I get how you feel. You can reach out to me.
Me: Thank you. I have to go now.
RHONDA24: Have a great evening, Andrea.
I logged off the computer.
#############
As time wore on, I realized that I enjoyed the community. I had made a few friends within the community. I had several bad days in the last month; one of them was that I had a falling out with Paul. He was angry with me for spending time online in the “transition” community as I had learned to refer to it as.
The community helped me overcome some of my anxieties, so I didn’t think so much about dying anymore. If anything, I wanted to live because I felt relieved that I now had a group that understood how I felt. After all, they felt the same way as me.
Then the day came out of nowhere. I was planning my graduation speech, as I had been elected by Mr. Frazier to give my class a short address. I typed, re-typing, and over-editing everything I was writing when I got a ding on my computer.
My email popped up, and I recognized the email address. It was from FALCON.
CONGRATULATIONS ANDREA BECKER YOUR COUNTDOWN TO TRANSITION BEGINS 5-4-3-2- NOW.
I gulped reading the email because I didn’t feel the way I had before. I didn’t want to panic. This had to be a mistake. I was no longer depressed; I had things to live for now. Why had they voted on me transitioning?
I saw that Milton was online.
ME: Milton? I think you made a mistake. I am the least qualified to transition. Especially that now I feel so much better!
Crickets could have chirped from the computer. Instead of responding as Milton had hundreds of times before, he ignored me and logged off.
This was a nightmare. I stood up, looking around my room.
Indeed, I’d have time to graduate. I was at the disadvantage of being home alone. My parents were at some Union banquet because my father was on the teamster's board. I got up from my computer desk and locked all of the doors and secured the doors.
I turned on the radio to think. There was a story on the radio about a White Van and how another child had been missing. Another witness saw someone dressed as a clown talking to the child.
Ugh! Not something I needed to know to hear right now. I flipped the station to some soft music. Sarah Mclachlan came on, so I left it. I needed to think. I logged into the chat, and I could see all the congratulations Andrea comments in the chat.
ME: Hey guys, I think there is a mistake.
RHONDA24: Congratulations, Andrea!
DAVTELLY45: I hope you have the best transition.
UNKNOWN: I hope you bleed into the camera for daddy.
ME: WHAT?
Who would say such a thing?
UNKNOWN: I can’t wait to cut you from ear to ear.
RHONDA24: DUDE! Get out of here!
I got a private chat request from Rhonda24.
I accepted it.
Rhonda24: Don’t sweat it, Andrea. The guy is some weirdo that has been harassing a bunch of us. We can’t block him. He has this crazy firewall system. Just please know how happy I am for you and how much I will miss you.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
I was about to log off when there was a bang from outside my house.
Before I could do anything, a stranger wearing a black mask burst through my bedroom door. I stood in pure terror and shock.
It was happening now!
I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed the desk chair in front of me, and flung it at the stranger.
He was tall, thin, and didn’t seem to have been prepared for my sudden means of survival.
He lurched forward and grabbed me by the throat. I could feel his large hands trying to suffocate me. I looked over to the computer and saw it had popped back on - all on its own accord. A red light flashed on the screen. I realized I was being recorded for someone’s amusement.
The darkness engulfed me in this very moment, and I sprung up, kicking the man in the groin.
He growled in pain, and for a moment, I had time to run but not for long before the man stood up and shut my bedroom door so I had no means of escape.
He pulled out a knife from behind him, and I looked around my room to find something else I could defend myself with. I saw a coffee mug, grabbing it and throwing it at his head. To my luck, he stopped to rub his head, and I barreled past him towards the door.
Then I was caught off guard by a swiping of the knife to the back of my leg, causing me to scream in pain.
I hit the ground, and he went for my throat with the knife. I rolled over quickly, causing him to stab the floor instead of me.
I kicked him in the head this time as he struggled to get the knife out of the wooden floor. He fell to the ground, and for a moment, we both worked with the knife. Finally, I managed to grab it and stab him inside the chest.
The struggle was over. Someone had transitioned tonight, but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t going to be me. I had far too much to live for. I took a deep breath and then took off the mask of the man.
To my utter despair, it was Paul. How had Paul gotten involved with trying to kill me?
It all made perfect sense now how they all had known so much about me. Still, Paul had been my best friend for years. I ran downstairs to find my cell phone and call for 911.
The dispatcher said they would be sending for someone as soon as possible.
I saw a large white truck coming towards my house, barreling down my street. I jumped into the road, flagging them down.
There was something strange about the truck. I realized when the headlights were no longer blinding my vision that it wasn’t the ambulance. I backed up onto the sidewalk and continued to look down the street for the ambulance. The truck did something strange, though. They stopped in front of me back up, so my view down the road was blocked.
A door to the back of the truck opened up.
There were two tall men dressed as clowns. One had blue hair and a red nose with what looked like blood around his mouth and dirty teeth. He grinned big at me. The other had on a red and yellow wig with green makeup. He looked more sinister than the other clown.
They stood looking at me, and then circus music began to play. I was annoyed by whatever joke they were trying to play, especially at a time like this. I could hear the ambulance now as it was making its way down my street. I tried to walk around the two stupid clowns. It was all so ridiculous to me.
That is when one of them grabbed me. I screamed for them to let me go! I had to help Paul! Then the other one helped get me by the legs. Before I knew it, I was no longer breathing.
I, Andrea Becker, died that night. I won’t bore you with the details. It was gruesome, and it was horrid. I have been missing for three years. I hope someone can see my story and relay what happened to me.
I’d like my parents to be able to have peace. We all deserve some peace.
I saw the book close on its own then. There were tears in my eyes as I read the last words of Andrea Becker.
I wasn’t sure how I could help, but I went over to my computer. There were numerous reports on the sightings of clowns in connection to missing children. I decided to search for the area combining missing person cases from around the region. I didn’t know how I was suddenly able to hack into systems using multiple databases, but I was doing it. For Andrea Becker’s sake, I was doing it.
That is when I found something very crucial. There were several sightings recently in my neighborhood. There were also six missing persons in a five-mile vicinity. I clicked, I typed, and I searched until I put the connections together. In all of the disappeared persons, there were three bodies found. One was of a seventeen-year-old female.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the remains of Andrea Becker’s young body. I forwarded the information to the detective working the case. How had they not put it together on their own, I had no idea. I did now have gifts now that helped me help those who could not help themselves.
Later that night, there was a break in three of the missing person cases. No thanks to me. I was tired after Andrea Becker’s story.
That book never rests, though. Last night in the middle of the night, I heard music coming from somewhere.
It woke me from a dead sleep. I decided to find out what the matter was. It sounded like circus music.
I walked into my living room, and parked in front of my house was a white van with clowns in the driver's seat. I stared at them for a long while and then opened my front door.
Two maniacal clowns got out of the back, and as they slowly made their way towards my house, I let out a deep breath. Then I yelled.
I was using my new found thunderous gift their windows to the van all burst. They both held on to their ears as though they were in pain. I had no doubt why they were here.
I heard someone yell, “HELP ME, PLEASE!” It was a woman.
I became momentarily distracted by the sound of wailing behind me. Sad, painful wailing.
I looked away from the clown van towards the READ ME book on my couch. When I looked back toward the street, the van with the clowns was now long gone. I would see to it they were punished, but until then, I had other pressing business.
I picked up the book, and inside it, I read the chapter to the next story.
I was the Youngest Member of the Lunatic Asylum...
submitted by blackfridayswitch13 to DrCreepensVault [link] [comments]

READ ME: Part 3

READ ME: Part 1
READ ME: Part 2
It was a few days of me relaxing just taking in the mellow mood that our Cecily- turned sea creature left me with her musical talents. Cecily also gifted me with a relaxing feeling.
It helped my anxiety in a way I can’t explain. I fed Doby, the fish I confiscated from the magical book, and bought him a new tank for my kitchen. I think he was another gift from Cecily. I was just happy I was able to put her soul to rest.
I spent all that Saturday setting up the sea salt tank fit with plants. Typically, it took time to set up a tank, but I didn’t exactly have time to do that with Doby. I even got him a few companions to keep him company.
Then a few days later, as I was feeding Doby admiring the new purple and turquoise blue decor, I felt a sudden need to cut my wrist. I felt like I was in a trance.
I walked over to the kitchen, opening the drawer pulling out a sharp knife, I began slicing my arm. I didn’t bleed much, but I had this overwhelming, depressing feeling coming over me. Then I heard my television pop on all by itself.
There was a news story about a young girl about sixteen years old that had gone missing. The report was dated three years ago. I knew then it was the book. Dropping the knife, I ran to get a paper towel and some alcohol to clean the wound I created.
I heard guns firing lasers, and I saw a blue light illuminating from the book. I took a big gulp; what was I getting myself into?
I opened the book to THE MURDER SHOW, which was the next story I was to read, and took a deep breath. I looked down and could see a tiny television featuring two teenagers playing a video game in a room. It was like I was watching a movie. One of them had short bleach blonde hair, the other had long black hair, and I recognized her as the missing teenage girl from the news that had just been featured on my television.
Instead of reading this story, I was watching it. I was hearing her voice inside of my mind, or maybe it was out loud. I couldn’t tell anymore.
I looked at the pages before me. They were turning on their own like an old fashioned picture book. I watched a girl as her eyes turned and faced me.
She had black hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. She had a black t-shirt on with a ton of bracelets. Her thin face was pretty, but she didn’t smile.
Instead, I could do nothing except listen to the story titled:
THE MURDER SHOW
My name is Andrea Becker, and as long as I could remember, I wanted to die.
I know it sounds strange, but I looked at death as that permanent nostalgic return to your soul.
I swear I’m not a freak. I know I look the part, don’t get me wrong. I am cliche for someone my age.
Let me begin by telling you how it all began.
When I was ten years old, my grandparents were visiting from out of town. My grandmother was taking a shower, and when she got out, she screamed for my mother as she was having chest pains. She fell over onto the bathroom floor. The EMT’s were there in record time; maybe it was slow- I just know it was all a blur. I watched them trying to bring my grandmother back. My grandpa wasn’t home; he had gone shopping with my dad and older brother. So, I had a front-row to the tragic end of a woman I had loved so much.
Then I knew the exact moment she died. I saw her ghost or her soul, whatever you believe. It floated out of her body, and it LOOKED at me! My grandmother’s spirit looked at me and smiled. I knew then everything would be fine, but it wasn’t about me. It was about how at peace she was. I longed for that peace.
I lost my grandpa a few years later, but my grandmother’s death stuck with me. I started reading everything in the end. I knew it wasn’t simple science like some claim. You do leave your body when you die. Where you go is anyone’s guess, I just know what I saw that day my grandma died.
I had never considered killing myself. That was too weird. Then one day, my best friend, Carla, told me she liked to cut herself. She showed me her scars on her wrists. I was taken back by her self-harm.
“What if you go too deep?” I asked her.
“I have a couple of times, but I have gotten good at stitching myself up,” she smirked.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but sometimes it is the only way I can feel things. I just feel like the world gets to be too much sometimes, and I want to escape it. I just don’t want to die.”
That is when I looked at her. “I have always wanted to die,” I said tears in my eyes.
“What you mean, like kill yourself?”
“No, just be at peace.”
“I feel at peace after I feel that rush. Like I get a rush from the pain for a second, and it makes me less - I dunno how to explain it.”
“I get it,” I said, and my friend had become my best friend.
I never told her, but I started self-harming after that. I had to know if it would give me the peace that I longed for when my grandmother showed me that look in her eyes. Like AT LAST, she could rest!
Sadly, over the next few years, Carla and I stopped being so close. She started hanging with a posh stuck up crowd. I still craved death. There was little in common with the mean girls' squad.
At seventeen, I had become close friends with a guy named Paul, whom I had a lot in common. We both enjoyed Mr. Fraziers English class, played tons of video games, and enjoyed hacking.
Not like professional hacking, just silly stuff like the local website to our local pizza shop. We hacked into it to say that all the prices had been reduced to 99cents. Silly kid stuff. We were never caught.
Then one day, Paul came over with two of his laptops.
“I have to show you something.” He said to me, excitedly.
“You ever been on the dark web?”
I shook my head. “No way!”
“It isn’t all weirdos; I buy stupid shit on there like electronics. Lots of black market stuff. It isn’t all organs and creepers doing things to people.”
“You aren’t messing with those sites, are you?” I asked him, concerned.
“No, I just found one, though. I can’t tell if they are serious. It’s called THE MURDER SHOW.”
“What the hell, Paul?”
“No, I have everything blocked. They can’t find us. I wanted you to see these comments. It freaked me out.”
“You are on the DARK WEB PAUL!” I retorted.
“Listen, just look at this. Can this be real?”
I hesitated and then took his laptop and looked at the site. It was a chat room.
I read a few of the posts they talked about murder and the best way to do it. Then I read on.
Der786: YOU READY, RANDY? One poster asked.
RANDY01: YEAH JUST DON’T HURT ME TOO MUCH. Another user name responded.
Der786: YOU GET THAT INSURANCE FILLED OUT?
RANDY01: MY WIFE WILL NEVER WANT FOR ANYTHING EVER AGAIN.
What the hell?
Paul grabbed the laptop. “They let themselves be murdered for entertainment.”
“On purpose?”
“Yeah, one guy had cancer and didn’t want to live anymore. It even says on the disclaimer that this is the Doctor Kavorkian of murder sites. It is all pity kills. They won’t do it to healthy, happy, or well-adjusted humans. You must prove you are worthy, and they will do the cleanup, so no one ever finds out.”
“It is real. Turn it off, Paul.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just thought you would think it was at least interesting.”
“It is scary and unfortunate if I’m honest.”
Paul’s cell phone rang.
“Sorry, mom, yes, I forgot. I’m with Andrea. I’m coming.”
I looked at Paul, and he ran out and left.
He was gone, and so I continued playing a new video game that I had bought with my allowance.
I wasn’t paying any attention when I heard someone say, “I see you.”
Huh? I said to myself.
“You there! Girl with the black hair!”
What the hell? Then I realized that Paul had left his stupid laptop on the floor of my bedroom, and it was still on that silly murder site!
I peeked over my bed and looked down at the laptop, and just as I was about to close it, a man spoke again.
“Don’t close it yet; you had to come here for a reason. Why don’t you tell me what brought you here.”
“I- I didn’t. My friend found it by accident, and we weren’t interested in the site.”
“That is okay, so you were curious. Can I answer any of your questions?”
This was getting too weird for me.
“I am good. I think I get it.”
“Look, I get it. It’s real live dark web shit. I’d want to close the laptop and burn it too. Only I have seen you. How do you know I haven’t already tracked your address? How do you know I am not using facial recognition to figure out exactly who you are, Andrea Becker.”
He said my name. How did he know my name?
I was going to kill Paul.
I picked up the laptop and looked at the man who didn’t look like your typical weirdo. He was sitting at a desk wearing a polo shirt. He had a friendly smile and kind eyes. Suddenly I felt comforted instead of creeped out, and I didn’t know what it was.
“My name is Milton. I founded this site to let people let out a little bit of carnal steam. Tell me about yourself.”
“This is weird. I don’t know you.”
“Okay, I’ll begin. I’m married. I am a father of two kids. Jessica and Jenna. I work in management. This is just a side thing. I can assure you I am every bit as human as you are. So tell me, why do you wish to die, Andrea Becker?”
At that moment, it was like he had spoken to my heart. No one had ever spoken so honestly to me before. It was like having someone see your soul. At that moment, I thought, this is fate.
“Peace.”
I found myself speaking honestly, and even if I regretted it later, I couldn’t help it. It was nice to see that someone could read my mind. At least it felt like that.
“I think most of us who are empathic to the ways of the world feel the same way you do.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I sat up straight and leaned into the screen on my laptop.
I was beginning to feel much more comfortable than I had thought I ever would. It was strange to trust someone on the dark web like this, but there was something about this man. He had a hold over me.
“Tell you what, we are holding an event tonight at eleven, and I hope you will log on to join us to see what we are all about. I promise it isn’t what you think.”
“I will have to check it out,” I said, partially wondering if I wanted to have anything more to do with this man.
The screen went black, and I shut Paul’s laptop.
I decided to go downstairs to grab a wine cooler out of the fridge. It was almost ten o’clock, and my parents were asleep, so I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble.
I drank the crappy drink, thinking long and hard about what had transpired and wondering if I wanted to know what went on in this so-called murder show.
It was five till eleven, and my cowardice was in full force, so I turned on the television.
“A WHITE VAN IS THE SUSPECT IN THE MISSING TEEN’S DISAPPEARANCE IN FRANKLIN COUNTY. WITNESSES SAY THEY SAW YOUNG JAMES MADISON TALKING TO SOMEONE DRESSED AS A CLOWN AS HE WAS ON HIS WAY TO SCHOOL FRIDAY MORNING…”
I turned off the disturbing news program deciding I would see the big deal with this “murder show.” There could not possibly be any reason for this nice man I had talked to be part of some sympathy murder thing.
The screen was still black, and then I saw a small room come into focus. The chat room was coming alive with flower emojis, and last-minute thank yous and best wishes from viewers who were donating bitcoin to the website’s owner.
Then I saw a man sitting in a chair and typing away at his computer. Something oddly terrifying about it was because the viewers seemed to see it, but the man didn’t seem to have anything to do with the viewers as though he didn’t even know he was being watched.
I watched as some of the viewers suddenly were also aware of this fact.
RHONDA24: Do you think he even knows this is the last night on earth?
Davtelly45: Nope, that is how it works.
RHONDA24: I know, but I thought he would be more prepared. He has been with us so long here.
Davtelly45: He will die soon, but he will be better off.
RHONDA24: No more cheating wife, no more debt, and no more anxiety about what tomorrow will bring.
Sassy-maria: I’m so happy for him.
Davtelly45: Me too, girl.
IVANfist: I hope this one is bloody, though. I like them with a little bit of gore.
RHONDA24: I have to admit I do too. Maybe he will get slashed on the throat.
Davtelly45: I just want our boy to be happy.
IVANfist: Fuck that gore all the way!
I read the chat, and then I watched as the man sitting at his computer seemed to be working on something very intensely. That is when I heard what sounded like a doorbell ring. The man everyone was watching got up, and walked away. I guessed to answer the door.
Then I heard the sound of someone yelling. A man with a black mask on was soon dragging the man who had just been sitting at the computer into his office.
“No, I have changed my mind! Please, I don't’ want to-”
His throat was slashed in front of the computer. The slash was so deep it nearly decapitated the man who was only moments ago typing away at his laptop.
I gasped, watching the scene unfold before me. Then the chat room exploded.
RHONDA24: Bye, Randy. We will miss you.
UNKNOWN: no, we won’t.
Davtelly45: SO long, Randy. I hope you can now be at peace.
UNKNOWN: Randy will never be at peace now. Hope he rots in hell.
Davtelly45: WHo is this?
RHONDA24: I will miss Randy, but anything will be better than dealing with a cheating wife, too much debt, and not knowing what tomorrow will bring. I long for my day to rest.
UNKNOWN: You should just put yourself out of your misery.
Davtelly45: Seriously, what the hell? Guy, this is pretty insensitive. We are celebrating the life and death of a warrior.
There was some strange interference, and I shut off the laptop, unplugging it.
I texted Paul to get his stupid laptop, and he told me he would be over tomorrow to get it.
I was sick to my stomach.
Had a real-life murder just taken place?
I knew without a shadow of a doubt it had.
I was paralyzed with fear and yet oddly jealous. I secretly wished I would be able to feel that peace that Randy felt. It terrified me, though, to no end.
\***************
I woke up the next morning and prepared for school. I had strange dreams of the people on the computer screen. I had dreams of them talking about me the way they had Randy.
I was sweating when I got out of bed, and I readied myself for school and what the new day would bring.
Paul came over after school to get his laptop, and I made sure I didn’t mention what happened the night before. I just wanted that website out of my life.
Paul seemed unphased by the fact I had his laptop. He had a few, so what was one going missing?
Following that incident, I stayed off my computer as much as possible. Then I had to log onto my own laptop to finish a school project about two weeks later.
When I logged into my email, there were many messages from a person that called themselves FALCON.
“Andrea Becker, this is FALCON, Milton wanted me to let you know that he knows you logged on to watch Randy transition, and he wanted to see how you were since viewing our little show.”
I deleted the messages. I didn’t want anything to do with these weird people.
As I had this thought, I got an instant message from MILTON.
Milton: Andrea, I am sorry you seem alarmed by Randy’s transition. Tell me, how did that make you feel? It is okay to feel scared, terrified, sad, angry, or all of the above.
I looked at what he was typing, and that same sweet consoling man made my guard go down. I would have asked him how he got my email, but I already knew that if it were easy for them to get my name, how much harder would it be to get my email?
Milton: Andrea?
Me: Hello, Milton. I don’t know how I feel about what I saw. I don’t think I want anything to do with this.
Milton: Andrea, talk to me.
Me: I don’t know what to say. You killed a man.
Milton: Yes, but he wanted it. We helped him transition. We can help you.
I looked at what he was saying. I had wanted so badly to feel at peace and lose all of my earthly worries, but this was too much too fast.
Me: I have to go to Milton.
Milton: Andrea Becker, reconsider. You don’t have to participate, but we are people that understand you. I read your online diary, your poetry, and I know what you wish for.
I was stunned and felt violated. How did they hack into my online diary? It was private thoughts on my blog site I never made public. I was terrified, and then Milton said something else that made me reconsider.
Milton: I have seen your interactions with others. We have watched you interact with your friends. We know it wasn’t you that initially found our website. We don’t care. We welcome you. We only ask that you keep our little secret to help others like yourself, and like Randy.
I don’t know what made me do it. I began to trust Milton. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel weird about my feelings on death. These people seemed to understand.
Me: I feel so weird talking about it.
Milton: It is hard to acknowledge your feelings at first, but once you do, you will begin to understand.
Me: Are there others like Randy?
Milton: We try not to allow too many transitions at once. We give people time to mourn in our community after someone transitions. We have another coming up at the end of the month. This person has yet to be named.”
Me: How does it work?
Milton: We take a vote on who is next. Once the vote is in, the nominee gets contacted through a congratulations email to give them time to tie up loose ends. Then they are not told the day or time of their death. We feel that it would ruin the transition.
Me: What if they change their mind?
Milton: They are given no way to back out. It is in our clause. If you are on track for transition, which I feel you are, just being a part of our community is an agreement. You have already witnessed a transition - an illegal act. So you have already agreed to the clause.
Me: What about you?
Milton: What about me?
ME: Can you transition?
Milton: I will in time. My agreement was after my children will be old enough to understand. Once they are, then I will join others like Randy and you.
“Oh,” I typed
Milton: I have to go now; it was nice chatting with you. Remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, we are here. We understand how you feel.
He logged off the chat, and I sat in front of the chat. Then another name popped up.
RHONDA24: Hello, Andrea.
I didn’t respond right away.
RHONDA24: I just want to let you know if you ever need a friend. I am not much older than you, and I get how you feel. You can reach out to me.
Me: Thank you. I have to go now.
RHONDA24: Have a great evening, Andrea.
I logged off the computer.
#############
As time wore on, I realized that I enjoyed the community. I had made a few friends within the community. I had several bad days in the last month; one of them was that I had a falling out with Paul. He was angry with me for spending time online in the “transition” community as I had learned to refer to it as.
The community helped me overcome some of my anxieties, so I didn’t think so much about dying anymore. If anything, I wanted to live because I felt relieved that I now had a group that understood how I felt. After all, they felt the same way as me.
Then the day came out of nowhere. I was planning my graduation speech, as I had been elected by Mr. Frazier to give my class a short address. I typed, re-typing, and over-editing everything I was writing when I got a ding on my computer.
My email popped up, and I recognized the email address. It was from FALCON.
CONGRATULATIONS ANDREA BECKER YOUR COUNTDOWN TO TRANSITION BEGINS 5-4-3-2- NOW.
I gulped reading the email because I didn’t feel the way I had before. I didn’t want to panic. This had to be a mistake. I was no longer depressed; I had things to live for now. Why had they voted on me transitioning?
I saw that Milton was online.
ME: Milton? I think you made a mistake. I am the least qualified to transition. Especially that now I feel so much better!
Crickets could have chirped from the computer. Instead of responding as Milton had hundreds of times before, he ignored me and logged off.
This was a nightmare. I stood up, looking around my room.
Indeed, I’d have time to graduate. I was at the disadvantage of being home alone. My parents were at some Union banquet because my father was on the teamster's board. I got up from my computer desk and locked all of the doors and secured the doors.
I turned on the radio to think. There was a story on the radio about a White Van and how another child had been missing. Another witness saw someone dressed as a clown talking to the child.
Ugh! Not something I needed to know to hear right now. I flipped the station to some soft music. Sarah Mclachlan came on, so I left it. I needed to think. I logged into the chat, and I could see all the congratulations Andrea comments in the chat.
ME: Hey guys, I think there is a mistake.
RHONDA24: Congratulations, Andrea!
DAVTELLY45: I hope you have the best transition.
UNKNOWN: I hope you bleed into the camera for daddy.
ME: WHAT?
Who would say such a thing?
UNKNOWN: I can’t wait to cut you from ear to ear.
RHONDA24: DUDE! Get out of here!
I got a private chat request from Rhonda24.
I accepted it.
Rhonda24: Don’t sweat it, Andrea. The guy is some weirdo that has been harassing a bunch of us. We can’t block him. He has this crazy firewall system. Just please know how happy I am for you and how much I will miss you.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
I was about to log off when there was a bang from outside my house.
Before I could do anything, a stranger wearing a black mask burst through my bedroom door. I stood in pure terror and shock.
It was happening now!
I did the only thing I could think of and grabbed the desk chair in front of me, and flung it at the stranger.
He was tall, thin, and didn’t seem to have been prepared for my sudden means of survival.
He lurched forward and grabbed me by the throat. I could feel his large hands trying to suffocate me. I looked over to the computer and saw it had popped back on - all on its own accord. A red light flashed on the screen. I realized I was being recorded for someone’s amusement.
The darkness engulfed me in this very moment, and I sprung up, kicking the man in the groin.
He growled in pain, and for a moment, I had time to run but not for long before the man stood up and shut my bedroom door so I had no means of escape.
He pulled out a knife from behind him, and I looked around my room to find something else I could defend myself with. I saw a coffee mug, grabbing it and throwing it at his head. To my luck, he stopped to rub his head, and I barreled past him towards the door.
Then I was caught off guard by a swiping of the knife to the back of my leg, causing me to scream in pain.
I hit the ground, and he went for my throat with the knife. I rolled over quickly, causing him to stab the floor instead of me.
I kicked him in the head this time as he struggled to get the knife out of the wooden floor. He fell to the ground, and for a moment, we both worked with the knife. Finally, I managed to grab it and stab him inside the chest.
The struggle was over. Someone had transitioned tonight, but it wasn’t me. It wasn’t going to be me. I had far too much to live for. I took a deep breath and then took off the mask of the man.
To my utter despair, it was Paul. How had Paul gotten involved with trying to kill me?
It all made perfect sense now how they all had known so much about me. Still, Paul had been my best friend for years. I ran downstairs to find my cell phone and call for 911.
The dispatcher said they would be sending for someone as soon as possible.
I saw a large white truck coming towards my house, barreling down my street. I jumped into the road, flagging them down.
There was something strange about the truck. I realized when the headlights were no longer blinding my vision that it wasn’t the ambulance. I backed up onto the sidewalk and continued to look down the street for the ambulance. The truck did something strange, though. They stopped in front of me back up, so my view down the road was blocked.
A door to the back of the truck opened up.
There were two tall men dressed as clowns. One had blue hair and a red nose with what looked like blood around his mouth and dirty teeth. He grinned big at me. The other had on a red and yellow wig with green makeup. He looked more sinister than the other clown.
They stood looking at me, and then circus music began to play. I was annoyed by whatever joke they were trying to play, especially at a time like this. I could hear the ambulance now as it was making its way down my street. I tried to walk around the two stupid clowns. It was all so ridiculous to me.
That is when one of them grabbed me. I screamed for them to let me go! I had to help Paul! Then the other one helped get me by the legs. Before I knew it, I was no longer breathing.
I, Andrea Becker, died that night. I won’t bore you with the details. It was gruesome, and it was horrid. I have been missing for three years. I hope someone can see my story and relay what happened to me.
I’d like my parents to be able to have peace. We all deserve some peace.
I saw the book close on its own then. There were tears in my eyes as I read the last words of Andrea Becker.
I wasn’t sure how I could help, but I went over to my computer. There were numerous reports on the sightings of clowns in connection to missing children. I decided to search for the area combining missing person cases from around the region. I didn’t know how I was suddenly able to hack into systems using multiple databases, but I was doing it. For Andrea Becker’s sake, I was doing it.
That is when I found something very crucial. There were several sightings recently in my neighborhood. There were also six missing persons in a five-mile vicinity. I clicked, I typed, and I searched until I put the connections together. In all of the disappeared persons, there were three bodies found. One was of a seventeen-year-old female.
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it would be the remains of Andrea Becker’s young body. I forwarded the information to the detective working the case. How had they not put it together on their own, I had no idea. I did now have gifts now that helped me help those who could not help themselves.
Later that night, there was a break in three of the missing person cases. No thanks to me. I was tired after Andrea Becker’s story.
That book never rests, though. Last night in the middle of the night, I heard music coming from somewhere.
It woke me from a dead sleep. I decided to find out what the matter was. It sounded like circus music.
I walked into my living room, and parked in front of my house was a white van with clowns in the driver's seat. I stared at them for a long while and then opened my front door.
Two maniacal clowns got out of the back, and as they slowly made their way towards my house, I let out a deep breath. Then I yelled.
I was using my new found thunderous gift their windows to the van all burst. They both held on to their ears as though they were in pain. I had no doubt why they were here.
I heard someone yell, “HELP ME, PLEASE!” It was a woman.
I became momentarily distracted by the sound of wailing behind me. Sad, painful wailing.
I looked away from the clown van towards the READ ME book on my couch. When I looked back toward the street, the van with the clowns was now long gone. I would see to it they were punished, but until then, I had other pressing business.
I picked up the book, and inside it, I read the chapter to the next story.
I was the Youngest Member of the Lunatic Asylum...
submitted by blackfridayswitch13 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]

*New Story* Do autonomous trucks dream of CW McCall?

I've got some serial stories I'd like to tell about living with (and in) technology and the industry.
Do autonomous trucks dream of CW McCall?
Falstaff’s story
“For a bright shining moment, we added a lot of shareholder value”. Falstaff had a comic with that caption in his double sized cubicle, the kind reserved for senior engineers. For a while he thought it showed that he didn’t fully buy into the corporate line, but that he’d still do as he was told as long as he had a shot at the big payout. RSUs, the big acquisition. The end of year bonus. That was the deal in the before time, when things mostly worked out for most people it seemed.
Falstaff knew he wasn’t the smartest, but he didn’t complain, didn’t pick fights and lived pretty well. His bad habits didn’t impact his work life and he still might hit it big enough to quit and try something else. To have options.
Then everything happened at once. The fires. The diseases. The chaos. Nobody knew who was in charge for a year or so. Things came back. A few years passed and the wealthy parts of the coastal cities looked shiny again. Most people called it normal. To the casual eye, it was. You could still get sushi delivered to the office late at night, ski in the Rockies if you could take the time off. Things were pretty good if you stayed where you belonged and kept your metrics up. Things fell off as you went East or to the not-so-quaint rural areas that couldn’t swing a music festival or good photo opportunities for social media. Go far enough and you found the places where the Feds just walked away. Not our problem any more.
That’s how Falstaff saw the world and his place in it. He had’nt had much sleep. Drugs, risky behavior and the self-loathing kept him occupied, making his morning commute that much less pleasant. He stopped staring at the RVs and tents parked on the land next to the on-ramp as he got on the 101. He jabbed the infotainment system to find some noise to sooth or at least distract him.
“Today, the Department of Energy announced that repairs have been completed ahead of schedule for the Diablo Canyon Power Plant. Radiation levels are now below acceptable levels for the first time in three years”
Click.
“We’ve got an autonomous truck accident with a car by Exit 6 on the 280 Eastbound, so expect delays while CHP and a support team from Freightliner gets that cleaned up”
Click.
It didn’t work. He still felt adrift and unhappy in the morning commute, so he silenced the radio and drove to the office.
The office was uneventful. Park, security checkpoint, a long walk to his building, a coffee on the way to his cubicle. He pulled the privacy screen closed behind him and sat down. A quick scan of his eyes and there was his project- a payment processing application that would cut out another payment application for a small percentage of a massive stream of money.
He looked over last night’s chatter, split the tasks into ‘do the work’ and ‘show that I’m adding value’ categories.
The fear and sadness caught up with him. He wasn’t ever going to get out. If he ran as fast as he could, he’d stay exactly where he was until his rent outpaced his income. His stock options would vest just fast enough to keep him going, but he’d never get out.
The morning dragged. Tweak this, report this to someone else. The bureaucratic minutiae and make-work washed over him until lunch. He looked forward to lunch with Tran, hoping that might get him out of his funk. Tran wasn’t so much a friend as one of the few people who admitted how screwed up everything was, so there wasn’t any danger of speaking the obvious and getting a negative reputation.
Tran was out today, so Falstaff ate leftovers and instant noodles in his cubicle.
His phone buzzed. There was a message on MomTalk, a chat for wealthy mothers to discuss brunch, day drinking and their children.
An engineer friend of Falstaff’s set it up as a joke to lampoon the women she couldn’t stand and her friends played along, adopting over the top personae and complaining about nonexistent spouses and domestic staff. After things came back, it was a way to talk freely, if in code.
Heather: Hey. I’m in deep trouble. The Nanny’s unhappy and I need someone to pick up the kids.
Falstaff sighed. Tran must need something.
Sheila: Missed you for lunch. Not feeling well?
Heather: Serious. My kid is stuck under my desk and I need him to come home. UNDERSTAND? NOW!
Sheila:kk.
He got up, took his brown cardboard biodegradable instant noodle container and walked a few rows over to Tran’s cubicle. Where Falstaff’s cube was disorganized and well worn, Tran’s was sparse with better furniture. Falstaff felt under the desk and noticed a decal with one end loose. A quick pull and the label peeled off into his hand, along with a small flash memory card, the size of a fingernail.
He stood up and quickly looked up and down the aisle between the cubicles. Nobody noticed. Nobody really paid much attention to him on a good day unless they needed something from him anyway.
Back in his own cubicle, he went back to the chat:
Sheila: How urgent is this? Chip can have dinner with us or we can drop him off on the way to fencing class.
Heather:NO TIME. FAMILY’S HERE AND THINGS ARE TENSE.
Heather:RUN. GET OUT NOW.
Heather:REALLY.
Falstaff was concerned. Tran didn’t make jokes. Laughing at Falstaff’s attempts at humor was enough. He had figured that Tran’s talk of ‘having gangsters in his family’ was an attempt to seem dangerous despite being a cubicle denizen, the way middle aged men bought loud motorcycles that they never rode.
He folded the decal over the card, pressed the sides together and dropped it in the instant noodle cup, then pushed it down with the corn-plastic chopsticks.
The background chatter got quiet and multiple employees raised their heads prairie-dog like. Several members of the company security detail were looking through Tran’s cubicle. Geoff, the brush-cut ex-cop security guard for this building was standing in the aisle attempting to look like he mattered to the operation as the more polished and definitely better paid detail carefully boxed the contents of Tran’s cubicle.
Falstaff picked up his phone and noodle container and started walking towards an exit away from the commotion. Geoff noticed and walked briskly after him. As Falstaff walked out of the building, Geoff called out his real name, then jogged behind him, puffing his half a size too small corporate logo’d golf shirt.
Ironed golf shirt.
Falstaff heard Geoff behind him, but decided to ignore him. Geoff was a blue-badged contractor, safely ignored. Normally.
Geoff ran in front of him and blocked his path to the parking garage.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where Tran is, would you? I’ve seen you with him ”
Falstaff tapped on his white badge. “You’re not my real dad. You can’t tell me what to do”
Falstaff squeezed past him into the parking garage’s doorway.
Geoff glared at him while Falstaff got in his car and put the noodle carton in the fancy retracting cupholder. He started his car and drove off as calmly as he could manage. Despite his attempt at seeming indifferent, his mind was racing. He attempted to make good time without getting attention. Luckily, silver Porsches were a cliché and therefore almost invisible in the Valley.
Twenty minutes later, he was in his mid-grade two bedroom apartment overlooking the parking lot. His cat, Hank, greeted him with a raised head and half open eyes.
Falstaff gave the cat some perfunctory petting, while trying to sequence the next few tasks.
He went to the refrigerator in the kitchen, carrying the ramen cup in one hand. He selected a can of energy drink and thought for a second.
His smartwatch and phone went in the freezer. Fishing the wrapped memory card out of the cup, he picked up the can and walked to his couch, where a bestickered high end laptop rested. Debating between speed and security, he turned off networking on his laptop, then inserted the card into the laptop gingerly, mounting it read-only in case Tran left something aggressive on the card.
Huh. A couple really large encrypted files. And seven smaller files with long filenames of seemingly random numbers and letters. He ejected the card and gingerly placed it on the arm of the couch.
The file names were bitcoin addressses. A lookup showed a total value of almost $600 million in value there.
The files themselves were encrypted. Falstaff stared at the wall for a minute or two, then realized that Tran had decided to quit and take an unauthorized retirement bonus from their shared employer. Enough money to kill for.
Who knew about this, and more importantly, who knew Falstaff had the key? Tran did. Perhaps his gangster friends knew.
He pulled his phone out of the freezer. A few project related emails and three MomTalk direct messages.
Heather:???
Heather:Where y’at?
Heather:I have investors. They’re quite insistent. They’re on their way to you.
It was time to go. Now.
Falstaff put the laptop down and ran to his bedroom. He pawed through a closet and pulled out the giant duffel he used to carry two week’s laundry from his grad student apartment to the cheaper off-campus laundromat. He quickly shoved a variety of clothes, some scuffed hiking boots and some corporate branded technical outdoors gear into it.
Behind a shelf, he found a long, antiquated Russian bolt-action rifle and a few paper-wrapped boxes of bullets. It wasn’t the firearm someone on the run would want, but it’s what he had. It went into the duffle bag, which he dragged into the living room. Hank jumped down and inspected the bag.
“Hank, I’ll hook you up in a second”
A quick scour of the kitchen and Falstaff had two thick trashbags and a box of water jugs with his current employer’s old logo on them, which he emptied into the sink and turned on the faucet.
As the sink filled, he filled the trashbags with whatever looked useful- tools, hobby electronics, his laptop and cat food. He pulled out a fat stack of cash from the bottom of his drug stash box. He contemplated forced sobriety, then carefully closed the box and put it in the bag, along with the cash.
Don’t change everything at once, he thought. Now isn’t the time to risk sobriety.
Falstaff rummaged around in the hall closet and dug out a bright pink cat carrier and stuffed Hank into it, then turned to the overflowing sink in his kitchen. He opened and filled the bottles in what he hoped was an efficient use of time, then pushed them back into the box.
His phone buzzed again. He contemplated throwing it back in the freezer, then thought better of it, shoving it and the watch back in his pocket.
Hank started meowing.
“We’re not going to the vet today, dude. Shut it for now”
Falstaff looked out his window. Typical traffic. Typical parking lot. A few charging stations, a fence and tents on the other side. He opened the window and threw the bags into the bushes below. He picked up Hank’s carrier, his laptop and looked at the box of water bottles.
Wait. Stop. Think. Breathe.
Tran’s card. A minute of searching found where he left it on the couch. He stuck that in his pocket, then ran out of his apartment. He considered the elevator, then decided on the stairs as they were closer to the bags and his car.
A few minutes of pushing and shoving had the trash bags in the front trunk , the oversized duffle in the passenger seat and Hank’s carrier seat belted in the tiny back seat. He spun the tires and entered the flow of traffic, such as it was.
He looked at his phone. More people seemed to want a response. Ignoring them, he found the closest florist’s shop and fifteen minutes later, pulled into the strip mall that contained it.
A few minutes later, he was in possession of three “Birthday Balloon Extravaganzas”, finishing off the shop’s tank of helium and a bit of Falstaff’s cash. He tied the strings around his smartwatch and let it rise and drift past the confines of the parking lot. The hastily constructed wad of tape and ribbon connecting his phone to the other two Extravaganzas generated a more labored flight, but eventually it drifted away. He looked into the shop’s camera and flipped it the bird as he left and jumped back in his car.
Soon he was back on the road, relaxing with his elbow out the window. Despite the stop and go traffic, he felt safe enough to relax and make longer range plans. Even Hank had settled down for the moment. The hot air felt less oppressive somehow. He contemplated the right set of music for an escape from civilization, trying on a few genres to decide. The screen also showed that the freeway was less than a quarter mile on the right and traffic would be light.
Good.
Then he looked again at the screen and thought about antennas. His radio talked to the cell tower, which talked to the Internet. Every application knew where he was.
Which meant Tran’s investors or their ex-employer could know as well.
One hand on the wheel, he looked around for something to pull the radio out of the dashboard. Hank meowed.
“You have an idea? No? Please be quiet”
Rummaging around in the glove box, he noticed an old folding knife. Falstaff slowly pried the radio from the dashboard while occasionally looking up at the tailgate of a modern SUV ahead of him. Realizing there was a rear-facing camera on the SUV staring at him, he slid down below the dash as best he could.
A few more stop and go cycles and the radio was free of the dash. He unplugged cables by feel, but one took his attention away from the road while he pried at it with his knife
He was distracted by a horn blast by his ear. Another SUV was forcing itself into his lane while the driver gesticulated at him.
Falstaff reciprocated by waving angrily at him, knife still in hand. The driver of the SUV held the horn down, angering Falstaff enough to open the window and throw the now free radio at the noise.
Feeling the embarrassment, he jerked the wheel to the right and accelerated into the bicycle lane with a chirp of tires and howl from the engine behind him.
A minute later, he was on the highway, quickly leaving Silicon Valley. He hoped to make the Nevada line before anyone figured out what he was doing.
submitted by lawtechie to talesoflawtechie [link] [comments]

One Year Update: 38M FIREd

Well, February 22nd makes it one whole year. I think that's deserving of a top level post, right?
Here are screenshots of the Mint Trends, which has every single expense from the past year categorized. I've added comments on each page.
Expenses Overview
Auto Expenses
Food Expenses
Home Expenses
Utility Expenses
Tax Expenses
Healthcare Expenses
Entertainment Expenses
Main takeaways, my total expenses for the year was $37,700, but I'm going to dismiss about $15,000 of that as "one time" expenses from paying off my car and my furniture loan. A more reasonable number for my annual spend is $22,700.
With my car payment gone, my highest expense category is Food, averaging $500 per month. This has room for improvement.
Healthcare will look artificially low last year because of taking Tax Credits up front. This year I am not and will be paying $325 per month for health insurance. At ~$4000 per year, this puts healthcare at nearly 20% of my total expenses.
Nothing else is particularly interesting. That $22,700 figure is a reasonable real-world number for me, but for future planning I'd still inflate that to $25,000 just to have more wiggle room. I may look into traveling this year, which would add some expense.
Investments:
Vanguard Investments: (All in VTSAX)
Other LTCG holdings: $145,000 -> $291,000 (other investment accounts and bitcoin)
HSA Investment Account: $6000 -> $7400, with another $1700 in the "cash" holdings of the HSA.
$9000 cash in Money Market & Checking Account.
Finances Going Forward
I had earned income last year so I didn't start my Roth Conversion Ladder last year. This year I decided I will be converting the $12,400 standard deduction + $9600 of the first tax bracket for a nice round $22,000 converted. Yes I'll owe a little bit of taxes, but it sets up my Roth with $22k in 5 years which should cover the majority of my expenses. And with $350k currently in tIRA and converting $22,000 per year, I won't be able to chew through it all before actual retirement age.
I have about $20k from an old stock purchase plan that unlocks come April, which I will be selling and likely moving over to my money market account to shore up my "cash" holdings.
My plan is to not really tap any of my "normal" investment accounts for as long as possible. I've been deferring to selling Bitcoin if I need to move some cash over. Last year I sold 3 bitcoin, one for $9300 in June, and then two at the end of December (for tax year Capital Gains reasons) for $7300 each. These were all LTCG at 0% taxed. AGI for last year is around $35,000.
The Living Part:
There's all the boring expenses and financial stuff. Now for the ever painful question that my beloved Grandmother loves to ask, "But gosh, what do you do with all of your time! I can't imagine being retired at your age!"
Step 1, restful sleep. During my working career I lived off 6 hours of sleep every day. It made for exhausting weekends trying to "make it up." And luckily I'm not a generally stressful person or else it'd have been worse. But now I go to bed when I'm tired, and whenever I naturally wake up, I get up. This can lead to VERY weird hours since I'm often an extreme night owl. But I generally get 9-10 perfect restful uninterrupted dream-filled hours of sleep.
I'm betrayed by my "Food Expense" breakdown, but I really am cooking more and eating better. I drink a lot of coffee and water at home and generally try to eat only one meal per day, but sometimes lunch and dinner. I don't normally eat breakfast, just have coffee when I wake up. And did I mention how much less painful it is to go grocery shopping when it's in the middle of the day and everyone's at work. It's so nice.
I spend a lot of time on reddit browsing my front page, and I check out the YouTubers I follow that post daily, then check out any of the irregular posters. Depending on how much good stuff there is, this could go on for a few hours.
I have a lot of hours playing video games. I tend toward puzzle games or building games (Factorio, Satisfactory) because they scratch that itch in my engineering brain. There are times at night where I'll spend hours on this website: https://www.puzzle-sudoku.com/ and play Sudoku or Nonograms or any of the other puzzle types on the bottom of the page.
I'm doing my best to watch every single last show on Netflix. It's a daunting task, though it's surprising how often I drift back toward watching the same smattering of Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes rather than try something new. But I try and take recommendations and work my way through shows.
And Podcasts! The joy of joys is when I come across a new-to-me podcast that has a huge backlog. I found a great ST:TNG rewatch podcast that had 108 episodes already done. I spent like 2 months watching the episode of TNG then immediately listening to their podcast about that episode, repeat repeat repeat. I'm currently working my way through The Adventure Zone, I'm on episode 46 of 155 with them. And they keep advertising the other podcasts The McElroys do so I'm sure I'll roll into one of those next. For many people podcasts are background noise, but I'll often just sit on the couch and concentrate on just listening the podcast.
Outside of home, I can't wait for the weather to get nicer so I can go on more walks. Being a night owl I like going for walks at night. I live near our city center so I'm within blocks of city hall, the main library branch, and the fountain / park.
I jump at any opportunity to hang out with friends. It's just about every weekend that we are getting together to hang out and play board games. Like I mentioned in one of the breakdowns, I've started to play D&D with my buddy and his wife. I'd never played before but he's been DMing for years (but hasn't had a group for 10+ years now). He's glad to be playing again, his wife loves it, and it's super convenient for them to stay home with the 5 month old daughter. (And baby gets to hang out with Uncle Oracle.)
I get together with former co-workers every few months to keep in touch with them. One in particular I have a standing every-2-month bar date with. I remind them every so often that if they want to go out to lunch ever to just call me.
Personal History
Just a quick personal history in closing. I was an automotive engineer working for OEMs and Tier 1 suppliers in the Metro Detroit area. In the 2008 downturn I lost my job and was unemployed for 2 years and ended up getting my house foreclosed in 2010. By the time i got a job in March of 2010 I was basically at $0. I had a tiny amount in an 401k, had about $20,000 in credit card debt from being unemployed.
But then I got a very well paying engineering job ($108k annual and eligible for time-and-half overtime). I kept living like I was unemployed, spent as little as possible and saved as much as possible. Through my parents I secured a mortgage on a nice 1 Bed / 1 Bath 900 sq ft condo. I paid off my CC debt in less than a year and kept banking cash and maxing my 401k every year.
I heard about bitcoin in early 2013 (from a guildmate in World of Warcraft, believe it or not) and jumped on board. All time bitcoin price chart (log scale) for those unfamiliar with the history. I got in before the first spike to $1000 in December of 2013, and kept buying throughout the downswing in 2014 / 2015. In 2017 I sold 5.6 BTC for a total of $6000 and paid off the last of my student loans and my car, then a few months later I sold 4.25 BTC for $6700 and paid off the last of my condo mortgage. So in May of 2017 I was officially debt free and had a net worth of about $200,000.
Then in the fall of 2017 was when bitcoin exploded. I knew I had to take profits here. Every time the price went up 10% I sold another bitcoin. $7500, $9000, $10700, $13000, $15500, $18600. I sold all the way up. I ended up selling about $100,000 in bitcoin that year and I pushed most of it into my Roth IRA and Brokerage accounts.
Then I really started thinking about FIRE in early 2018. Started doing the math, tried to see what my expenses would be, and thought I'd give it ago. I've told myself from day 1 that I'd give this trial a solid 2 years. If I don't feel good about it, or the money doesn't seem right, then I'll still only be 40 years old and could (IMO) easily jump right back into an engineering gig. So I targeted early 2019 so I could frontload my 401k for two months, grab the annual bonus, then peace out.
TL:DR: 38, FIREd, Money's looking right, Life is feeling right, everything is fine
submitted by Oracle_of_FIRE to financialindependence [link] [comments]

I found a tape I wasn’t supposed to listen to.

I plan on destroying this laptop after posting this and will soon be untraceable. I am reaching out because something is not right. I feel as if something just is not lining up right in the universe. I feel like I am out of place. I come to post because I am not sure how much longer I have. I was taking the trash out last week and I think I saw something I should not have. It was a full moon that night and I was doing my regular chores. Feed the dogs, clean the dishes, take the trash out. Easy stuff like any other night. When I got to the dumpster I saw a cassette player on the ground looking like it was to be thrown out. I thought to myself it was just trash but something caught my eye. There was a piece of tape on it with a sharpie written across it. It stated "LISTEN URGENT" so I put it in my pocket and took it home.
If I knew what was on that tape I would have not brought it home that night. I didn't have a pair of headphones to listen to it with or at least didn't care to look for one at the time. I had put the tape down on my desk and went to play some video games without thinking much of it at the time. You see I didn't have much going for me. My mother was a single mom and I was the man of the house. I liked to play video games because that is what made me happy. It was getting late so I turned off my monitor and went to bed.
I woke up the next morning thinking about the tape because I had a dream about it the night before. The dream consists of me going to the trash and finding the cassette tape then someone getting out of their car when I was walking home pushing me down and taking the tape from me. It was a man with a black overcoat but couldn't see much of his face since it was dark out. And as soon as he took it I woke up. I thought to myself that having a dream of it already had to mean something so I found some headphones and plugged them into the aux input and pressed play.
"What did you see that night" A man asked
"I was super drunk and all I remember was seeing some guy beat the shit out of some other guy outside the bar." A women said
"Where did this take place? The man asked
"In the alley besides the bar.... Can I please go now?" The women proclaimed.
"No, not yet we have some more questions for you..." The man said
"What was that?" The man asked
You could hear a crash or something and the tape cut out. What the fuck was I listening to? An interrogation with the police? All I know is there is more on the tape and I definitely shouldn't be listening to this. I clicked skip and play again and it started back up.
"Where were we... Sorry about the inconvenience miss." The man smirked
"Who are you guys anyways? The cops?" The women asked.
"Ahaha very funny... she thinks were the feds..." The man talking to his partner.
"You guys aren't the police???" "Then who are you guys?" The women starting to panic
"We are the guys they call when shit gets bad." The man said
"I think we are finished here... just state your name and age and your good to go."
"OK... Carly Johnson, 23"
Tape Ends
Who the fuck were they? Who is this girl Carly... I thought to myself what this tape was doing with me. I looked up this girl's name and I didn't believe my eyes. Here I am looking at her obituary. She died weeks ago. Cause of death: Suicide.
Where do I begin. I just heard a tape of seems to be the police interrogating Carly and she all of sudden kills herself what the actual fuck. I guess these are the guys they call when shit gets bad. It says she jumped over a bridge in the town over from me at midnight. Why would a girl just do this out of nowhere and sounded decently happy on the tape. But then I saw one last thing on her obituary... it said "There was no body found. She had left a note." So she went missing huh and they ruled it off as a suicide. I went back to the tape and to my surprise it had corrupted and I couldn't play anything back. Just great. I wanted to know who these guys were? Why did they want to talk to Carly? Why did Carly all of sudden disappear?
This was all so hard to wrap my head around. None of this should be my business but somehow I feel like it is. I never even knew Carly but some way I feel like I did. Weird right. Maybe you can tell me if I'm nuts or if it's humane to feel this way. I had another dream last night and to my surprise it had to do with the tape again. But this time it was very strange. I was on the bridge where Carly apparently did what she did and there was something on the ground in the middle of the bridge and I couldn't really make out what it was so I walked over and it was the same tape except the writing on it this time was "They did this." I then rubbed my eyes and woke up in a ton of sweat. So is this supposed to be a sign or something? Like what are these nightmares supposed to mean? I still am wondering who the men were that were talking with Carly. I started looking up cases of bar fights or anything to do with fights relevant to a bar. To my surprise I found the case. Case # 06-123 Bar stabbing leaving man dead. Looks like it was big in the local news. I do not watch the news much but now I know what they were talking to Carly about. This was much bigger than I thought. This is still an open investigation. I was skimming over the reports and one of the officers said that a private sector of the FBI would be taking over the case and no more was to be discussed publicly until the case is closed.
A private sector of the FBI is now involved what the fuck. In this tiny ass town the FBI is getting involved. This is all so much to take in. Seems like there is more to it though. The FBI got involved with some little stabbing at a bar. The news article said if there is any information to help the case to contact the link that was shared underneath the article. I clicked the link and it brought me to some government website to report tips or some bullshit. I started to read and it said "If there is any information on this case please contact this phone number [DISCLOSED INFORMATION]. I then read it said if anyone knew of a missing cassette tape that it is crucial to the investigation and no more information was shared after that. So wonderful, I now know that I am holding a crucial part of evidence of a case for the FBI and the contents were corrupted. I don't know what to do at this point... I still am going to be doing my research and I plan on getting rid of this cassette tape. I will be updating this post as soon as more information is shared or I find something. In the meanwhile I need to stay on the low because there could be and will be people looking for me and what I have acquired.
Ill post an update in 24 hours. Until then, Goodbye.
Update 2
I only got a few hours of sleep last night... thoughts running through my head constantly. I promised an update and here it is. I have been thinking of what to do with this tape. I think the best option would be to get rid of it but I think that would be a felony or something so that options off the list. The second option I have is to give it to them. Yes, I know it sounds crazy absolute delusional you might say. OK let me stop you right there. The plan is to drop it off at a discrete location and call in an anonymous tip. Seems easy right. I hope. I have wiped off all my prints on it and ripped off the tape on the front of it. I am going to go to a gas station about 45 minutes away from here. There should be a payphone and the angle the cameras are at should not see me if I pull my car up to the left of the building. I will wear gloves for prints and wear a hoodie. I should be fine, no evidence that I was there with the tape. I will get back to you after the job is done. Wish me luck.
Update 3
So it went exactly like planned. I parked my car where there was no surveillance and got out with my black hoodie and called the number that I saw online. I said "The cassette tape is in the bathroom of the gas station for case # 06-123 and hung up. I got out of there as fast as possible. I am now home and well. I am still curious and looking into Carly. I think I came upon something. It is very unusual. Her mother wrote a Facebook post saying "I know those cops are fucking corrupt... they never even looked into her case!" I thought to myself how weird this is. Her own mother must have known something was up too. No body found, A bridge that no one was on that night. I know no one was on it because there was a detour for maintenance on the bridge that afternoon. The last thing that doesn't add up is someone had to write on that tape stating LISTEN URGENT. If they were police wouldn't that tape be in evidence or something. Correct me if I'm wrong but this shit doesn't just go missing and wind up at my dumpster. I have a feeling that the bridge is one of the places that I will find something leading me to what happened to Carly and why the FBI are involved. I am going to take a drive to that bridge and see if I can find anything. I'll update you when I get back.
Update 4
I think I came upon something I wasn't supposed to once again... I found a necklace underneath the bridge. Here is a picture of what I found. necklace You see I don't think the police actually investigated or they would have already found this. Still we aren't even dealing with the local police anymore we are dealing with some special sector of the FBI. I also found one other thing and I feel as if posting a picture would compromise this second tape I found. I have not brought my headphones with me but have a feeling whatever is on this second tape that it will be great. I am very concerned about Carly and what happened to her. Maybe she is on this tape again, maybe it will lead me somewhere. If I post this on reddit I have a feeling the FBI will be notified or something like that. So for precautionary reasons I will not give the name of the bridge or any locations further that could potentially fuck this up. I plan on digging deep and will share it all with you. Why does the FBI want something to do with some girls suicide?? Who were those men on the tape???? Moments ago I just got a call from a blocked caller... I declined the call because I never normally accept blocked caller ids. They left a message. He said
"Turn your eyes away from this or else... You have been warned." ENDS CALL
I am very frustrated right now because they somehow found my phone number. I thought I took all the precautionary measures. I guess the government is always watching though. My feeling is that I will have to get rid of everything that ties me to this case. I have looked up how to destroy a hard drive and it is as easy as swiping a strong magnet over it.
I want to mention to whoever is reading this that if you know who Carly Johnson is and or have any clues on what happened to her please indulge me. Do not share anything with anyone else except my account. You see you may not realize the full extent of this situation but, no need to worry. I will encrypt everything that is sent and no information will get out to the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Should I be scared? Because I am terrified. I need to know these answers because I am so devoted already. I was just warned to stop looking into this. I have no idea how they got my phone number. I believe we are dealing with not just a suicide but, possibly a government cover up or something worse. If anyone has any tips on what I could possibly do that would help please comment, I can take all the help I can get. They will probably see this post and what I have discussed with you all. I am going to upload all my research onto a USB and slide a magnet over my computer's hard drive now. I will reach back with more news after I have found a secure location to proceed with my updates. Until then....
-Colin.
Update 5
So I am currently posting this on a burner phone that I recently bought. I have booked a motel room with cash and I will use their wifi with a VPN. I would like to first express that whoever called me yesterday that I will not stop until I get the answers I need. I am sure with whoever has been reading my recent posts that they wouldn’t like me to stop looking either. I will bring justice for Carly and her grieving mother. I know that the government has something to do with this. I have got some feedback saying that the bridge might have another tape possibly. To my surprise there was and I just listened to it. I’ll replay it for you.
[Play]
“Hello… I don’t have much time to say what I need to say. I recently found something and it needs to be shared with the world. My name is Carly Johnson…”
“They are really close right now… I can see their flashlights through the trees. I am under some type of bridge.”
“I have recently come upon a file that was on a USB which was sent to my house…. Its title is Project Sight and the public needs to be aware of what I found.”
“It has many many documents containing all sorts of stuff including Area 51, The Roswell Incident, and various pictures of these very tall what seems to be creatures. So many classified documents on this file.
“I have made a backup of the file and it is located in my g---
[Cuts out]
Well shit, we finally know what we are dealing with. They brought out the FBI because it is a national threat which is out there on that USB. What was she about to say… she cut out saying something that started with a g but I have no clue. I am going to need help with this one. Please give me your thoughts on where she may have hid the backup. I have a feeling that they will find it before I do. I need to find that USB before it gets destroyed. I am not staying another night at this motel. I am going to switch it up so it is hard to track my footprints. I will be ok with my funds for now because I transferred what I had left in my savings and converted it into bitcoin. Hopefully I don’t have to explain why I did that. Once I am done packing up here and on the road I will proceed with another update.
Update 6
I stopped at a local convenience store near me and got myself some snacks and water for the road. This blue raspberry Slurpee is pretty good right now. I wanted to go to a local library to proceed with my updates but none of them are open because of this whole quarantine thing. I am probably better off in the motels though. I backed up the tape to my USB and set a password on it so no one can access it. I most likely am a current threat to the FBI so I don’t know how long I will have to stay moving. My plan is eventually to bunker down somewhere but until then I need to keep moving. I also have this cheap laptop I brought to access files that I cant on my phone. I was looking more into Carly's assets through some public info websites and such, you can use Whitepages plus to get a lot on someone. You can access background checks and look into someone's past, It is pretty crazy what you can get on someone. I also was looking through her Facebook and found an older post with her dad working on a project car. Looks like one of those storage garages that you can rent. She doesn’t post much. All family related stuff and a couple friends. Guess she kept more to herself. I am curious about when she said it was called Project Sight. Why would they call this file that in specific? Who knows. Do you think it would be a good idea to talk to her mom? Probably not, now that I am thinking of it. The FBI is probably all over her house. Hmm wait a minute, I remember that her mother had a Facebook page. Maybe I’ll send her a message where we could maybe meet up or something in private. She probably would give insight on what Carly said on the tape. I pulled into a parking lot that seems to be pretty empty. I want to try and take a nap and maybe wake up with a new idea or something.
Update 7
Fuck me. A cop just woke me up by knocking on my window…
“Hello officer, is there a problem?”
“I don’t think there has to be one, are you a little tired?”
“Yeah, I pulled over in this parking lot to clear my head and take a little nap.”
“Gotcha, you got any Identification on you?”
“Yes sir, can I grab it out of my glove box?”
“Yes, just no sudden movements.”
“OK, here is my registration and proof of insurance as well as my I.D.”
“Thanks for being so cooperative, let me run your stuff and you’ll be on your way shortly.”
He went back to his vehicle and I don’t know what he is going to find. What if the FBI put a warrant out for me or something?! I am probably just super anxious because of this situation. They want to keep everything top secret so they won't involve the police. He just got out and is walking back now.
“Here you are *hands back documents*.... You're a little ways from home aren’t you?
“Yeah, my Aunt lives out here and I came out to visit her.”
“Alrighty, I don’t see a need to cite you or anything so I’ll leave you with a verbal warning so just try to sleep somewhere else next time … OK? “Thank you again… have a good one.”
Well that could have gone a lot worse. I looked up the mother's address and it is only an hour from me. I am going to call her by the name Catie from now on. I made a Facebook account with this burner and messaged Catie on messenger saying “I know what happened to your daughter Carly… they faked it.” [SENT] Hopefully she sees this soon and we can chat a little bit and hopefully it helps to find that backup.
Update 8
So she read my message a moment ago and responded with “Who are you?” I responded with “Meet me at the Franksville park in 20 minutes, I am here to help not hurt. Please do not bring the police… they covered this up.” I am already parked here where I can see the parking lot but no one will be able to clearly see me staking it out. If the police roll up to the park I will exit through the back. If she comes and she is in a black jeep then I will text her again telling her to go to the bench across from her and wait for me. Hopefully all goes to plan.
[20 minutes later]
Great, she just pulled up and no cops. I messaged her the message and am waiting for her to do as directed. I talked to her for a while, probably a good half hour. I wrote down what I thought were the most important things she said.
“Father was a military officer”
“Dropped out of college”
“Top of her class”
“Public storage garage”
“Police searched Carly's house without proper consent”
“Computer and journal missing”
This was the farthest I have been in this case. Now that whoever is watching just know that I am currently one step ahead of you in every way now. I have developed different plans based on what might happen and every possible outcome and how to counter the bureau. I may not have the man power the FBI does, but I do have more knowledge now. So just know
I am coming for you … I will ruin you.
I am now taking the cellphone battery out and disposing of it. Until the next update….
Goodbye.
-Colin
Update 9
A lot happened yesterday, first of all it was mothers day. I was debating if I should go back to my moms house because someone could be posted out front waiting for me to return. I was wrong and the night went well. I left around 9 pm to find this USB. Someone that wants to remain anonymous direct messaged me and said they thought that the storage unit might be where she put the backup. I looked into it. I knew the number which I will not say for my own protection but Catie gave me the number of the storage garage. She said that she never had the key but she helped enough and that wouldn't be a problem for me. I went to the main office of the storage rentals and bought myself one near Carly's garage. This way I can have access to the property without suspicion. One thing that is really beneficial to having a pass code to the main gate now is that I can come whenever I choose. This place is 24 hour service. OK so now that I have developed a plan on how to get in now, I need to pick her lock.
It should be pretty easy if there are no cameras and if no one is working. I haven't really scoped anything out for assurances but hopefully it all goes to plan. On a side note I have been contacted again by that number, they sent me a picture of my car ... my actual car ... Shit. OK so they most definitely are watching me but that was from last night so I don't know if they are currently. If I do post this post just know that I am safe and have acquired the USB hopefully. I am going to take bolt cutters and a hammer to see if I can just break the tiny lock to get in. I will update you when I am back.
Update 10
OK I am going to choose my next choice of words very carefully. I found what I needed ... what I was looking for, for the last couple of days. I broke into the garage and there was this nice 1976 mustang cobra, what a beautiful car. I turned my phone's flashlight on and looked in the back of the garage. There was this tool box and I looked all through it, but didn't find anything in that. Next, I went to the car and it was open how fortunate ... I looked in the glove box and I found something. It was in this tiny envelope with the envelope saying "Insurance". OK I got what I came for and shut the door to the garage and left. I plugged the USB into my tiny laptop and it came up. First file "Project Sight", I clicked on it and 4 more files came up. 1st "Access point 51 [Classified]", 2nd file "Roswell, New Mexico [Classified]", 3rd file "JPEG File [Classified].
What was on these files I can't really describe. I need a little more time to wrap my head around all this information and figure out what to do with it. The weirdest of them all was the JPEG files, there were at least dozens of pictures that were all super blurry but mostly they all had one similar trait. At least 7 foot tall and a very large round head. They appeared to be a darker gray color and that's about all, The pictures were all in black and white though so that was not helpful. I need to know what to do with this USB. I think I am going to make a back up somewhere and place it somewhere where no one will find it. If these men do come for me I do not want them to win. So I set up some posts that will eventually post automatically within 48 hours of no account activity. I am still posting on a burner phone at the moment. All I ask if I go missing please don't let me end up like Carly. She said that this information needed to be shared with the world. I want to avenge her. The FBI will not get away with this. If these posts get deleted I have set up logs to be saved and they will all be backed up and reposted automatically as well. Nobody can stop that process too.
They know what type of car I drive and where I live. They know I have this classified information and will not stop until they get what they want. I don't want to die. I am scared for my own life and safety of my family at this point in time. At this time I am writing this on my phone, I can see a black SUV parked 4 cars to my left in the Walmart parking lot. It may just be my anxiety but there are two men sitting in the front. I may be dead within the next day or taken. Who put that fucking tape at my dumpster in the beginning? Was it them? Did they watch what I did everyday and find my daily routine and match that to when I would take the trash out? Could they have placed the tape at a spot I could visibly see all on purpose, knowing that I would pick it up and listen to it. All for what though? Why me? What is the point of going after a teenage kid? I might just be going crazy because of all this. I would like to express....
Whatever does happen to me, just know if you do find a cassette tape at the dumpster, don't play it.
Until next update,
-Colin
Note - My automatic posts I have set up go off in the next 48 hours of inactivity of the account. I have hid the USB and a GPS coordinate of where it is hidden will go out to someone that I trust very well.
submitted by idonthavemuchtime12 to creepypasta [link] [comments]

Crossroads Demon

My wife sold her soul to a crossroad demon twenty years ago. As I write this, the hounds of hell are outside our bedroom door. I can hear them scratching and whimpering as they try to get in.
I can smell their decaying flesh through the door.
She told me over the phone after our fourth date. She always called me after our dates to check if I got home safe and that night was no different. The connection was spotty, and I was playing a video game on Xbox Live with my friends. I could not tell what she said the first time. I made her repeat it as I lowered my gaming headset, the din of my friends barking orders replaced with the static of background noise from our phones.
“I sold my soul,” she said.
This time I knew I’d heard it right. It was early on in the relationship and I am the type of person who thinks everything over twice, so I thought about it as I went to plant the bomb. She seemed like a sardonic kind of girl, the kind who had an alternative humor that was rare—the kind who was funny enough and smart enough to catch you off-guard sometimes. She was also kind of weird, but then again, I liked that.
And so I replied nonchalantly, “I hope you got a good price.”
“I think I did,” she said.
“Good,” I said. The bomb's counter ticked down as she wished me goodnight in a cloyingly sweet tone and I told her we'd talk tomorrow. As I hung up, the bomb exploded, and the victory screen came on my TV. My friends were telling me I was a beast when I put the headset back on.
We did not talk about it again until the night we got married.
By then, I had quit the gaming and bid farewell to my friends. Some paired up, some stayed alone, but we all fell out of touch as we entered our thirties. I never saw myself as someone who got married and logged off, but life happens. You grow up and one day you realize, years later, you are not who you were back then. The only thing that remained the same from those days was I loved her, we laughed a lot at our off-kilter jokes, and we both had a penchant for 2AM runs to the McDonald’s drive thru.
We were in her new car, a Range Rover we’d take the mountains every few weeks, and we were eating garbage food we’d regret immediately after. She was looking at her McFlurry, brow furrowed. Her face was illuminated by the parking lot lights and I saw the faint hints of crow's feet around her eyes.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I asked. I rustled the bag and grabbed a fry. They were starting to get cold after sitting for ages under a heating lamp. Fast food in the middle of the night was always a gamble, especially when sober.
“Why do they have McFlurry’s with Smarties in them in the UK, but not Canada?”
I didn’t say anything. I knew her well enough by this time to know she didn’t really want to talk about that in particular. She feared saying something meaningful, so she picked something random to bring up to distract us. She would speak when she was ready to say what she really wanted to say.
Only she didn’t speak. For once, she was completely silent. I chewed on my fries, then looked at her after a few minutes. She was crying into the melted ice cream, mascara mixing in with the rainbow-colored puddle in her cup.
“What’s wrong?”
“We only have nine and a half years left,” she said.
“Well sure, the average marriage only lasts that long, but we’re—”
“No,” she snapped, turning in the car seat away from me, her shoulders raised. “We only have that time before he comes to collect.”
I was completely confused. I looked at her, tried to take her hand, but she pulled it out of mine. She rolled down her window and threw out the McFlurry, casting it from her life violently with frustration.
I had never seen her litter or throw something before.
“He?”
“The devil,” she said, sighing. “I already told you this, why is your memory so shit?”
She tended to lash out when she was upset. I didn’t really want to fight so I didn’t say a word. It wasn't a hill to die on. A second later she rolled the window up, she jammed the key into the ignition and started up the car without prompt. I held back the urge to tell her she was being irrational because a part of me was scared she wasn't--that something more serious was going on and it was easier to think it was just a metaphor.
She never did get out to collect that McFlurry cup.
On the drive home, I watched the stars in the sky as they appeared as we left the city to head back to our countryside hotel room we booked for our honeymoon. It was a peaceful drive. We didn't speak, but we made up once we got out of the car; she apologizing for being the outburst, me telling her I loved her and was there for her, and us both having sex after. She never spoke of selling her soul again and I wrote it off as nerves from actually tying the knot. She wasn’t the committing type, and neither was I. And sometimes, when you really love someone and you’ve spent enough time with them, you decide not to ask questions you don’t want to hear answers to.
And I really didn’t want to know what she sold her soul for--if she actually did somehow, if it were a thing that were possible.
If she'd gone to a crossroad near a tavern down by the river with a bag of bones and herbs to meet a stranger in the dark.
Or if maybe instead she logged onto a website on the dark web and pulled out her Bitcoin wallet one night.
I wish I’d asked, of course. Especially now as the hounds' howls split my ears from a few fet away. In the last few minutes of my life, I find that somehow curiosity and fear have created an insatiable itch to understand everything.
But this is not a movie and she isn’t the villain explaining her dastardly plan right before she pulls the trigger.
In fact, she’s long gone and all that’s left is me. Handcuffed to the bed, naked, and completely alone.
Except for the hounds, of course.
Ten minutes ago, she stepped out for a glass of water after securing me and never returned. As she stood at the door, before she closed the door, she smiled wistfully at me. Her hair was tangled with sweat from sex and I thought she looked pretty.
I’d thought, all things considered, life had turned out well. I'd married a good woman and we'd spent twenty years together and life was satisfying.
That was a second before I heard the dogs for a first time. A good minute before I realized she wasn't coming back.
A good two minutes before I realized that my wife really had sold her soul to a crossroad demon twenty years ago.
A few minutes before I’d realized it was my soul on the chopping block--that she must've sold my soul for another twenty years on her contract.
Almost ten minutes before I’d realized I was about to be eviscerated in my bed by their hungry, gnashing teeth.
Fuck.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OHAIgpih86E
submitted by ashelia to ashelia [link] [comments]

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