Dr. Flora Davis was walking through Verstecktedorf with purpose. Assistant David Vadas was struggling to keep up. Unfortunately, he was having trouble avoiding the citizens of the small town, and nearly crashed into several of them. He could feel the crowd becoming denser, and realized Davis had not even noticed he had fallen behind.
“Davis! Hold on, where are you—'tschuldigung!— We need to—Sorry!— Oh, come on! Slow down, Doctor D!” David yelled after his superior.
With this last statement, Flora stopped on the spot and spun around to face David, walking a few paces to meet him. She looked at him, seemingly angry. The crowd began to part around the two of them, as if fearing confrontation themselves. David was preparing for the worst, but she just relaxed and almost laughed even. “Don't call me ‘Doctor D' again. I'm not a children's cartoon villain.”
“Yeah it felt wrong as soon as I said it.” Vadas said, trying to catch his breath.
“And you really can't keep up with me on a brisk walk? Just how out of shape are you?”
“Very, but thats not what I'm saying. I'm saying you're heading off in god knows what direction and we don't even have a plan of action.” David took a few seconds to breathe, waiting for a reply from Davis.
She paused, about to retort. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized his point was valid. “…You're right. We need to get more organized if we're going to contain this thing, whatever it is.” Flora admitted.
“Alright, so what do we need to do? What are our priorities?” As David said this, Flora could practically see the gears turning in his head. He seemed almost excited to begin working. She had noticed this behavior before; he liked putting together clues to see the full picture.
“The main thing is obviously finding the tree, and the bird. My guess is once we find one it'll lead us to the other. We also need to research how the anomaly manifests. Are these events the same because of this anomaly or is something else pulling the strings?”
“On that note, I think we need to figure out if an event has already begun. If so, we need to discover the characters in the event. If this event is going to be as gory as the tale, we need to find out who's in danger.”
“Correct. Absolutely. Ok, so you know vegetation pretty well right?”
“I mean, I guess—“
“Go look for the tree. Figure out where it could've been; it might've moved before, maybe theres some kind of pattern. And remember, our best guess for an outer radius is in England, so the sooner we find this thing, the better. I'll do more research on the folklore. Maybe the characters are representative of something.”
David handed Flora the copy of the Grimm stories. “Start here. Obviously there are different interpretations but all of the characters are right here. Do we know where the first reports came from?”
Flora gave him the files had led them to the anomaly in the first place. “It's all in these documents. You may find the original sources… questionable, but I have a feeling they know more than they let on.”
“Roger that. We'll meet back at Site-99 later?”
“Sounds good.”

David wondered if perhaps he hadn't been clear. Plants. His specialty was plants. Not kids. If I did say kids I meant baby goats, he thought to himself. He was instantly glad he hadn't said the joke out loud. Nevertheless, here he was, leading four children into the forest to find a tree. Well, they were really leading him. After all, they were the ones who first reported seeing the tree.
He was uncomfortable with the whole situation. In fact, he had told each of the children's parents this when they suggested he take them on a walk through the forest. He had tried to get one to come with him but they all had… convenient excuses. He scarcely had to wonder why as the high energy of the group made it difficult to tell if they even knew what they were doing.
"Will you play a game with us?Wirst du mit uns spielen?" One of the young girls asked. The others turned towards Dorothea as she asked the researcher, watching in anticipation and wondering how the strange man would respond.
David sighed internally. It wasn't that he disliked kids, he just never knew how to behave around them. He was prone to putting multiple feet in his mouth at a time, and he didn't trust that would go over well with impressionable children. "Will you show me where the tree was?Zeigst du mir wo der Baum war?" he replied to the trickster. Dorothea was the one who convinced the parents to let them go with David. She stood there with a mischievous grin, refusing to walk any farther. David needed the information that she had, and she knew it. "How about we try both?Wie wär's, wir versuchen beides?" he finally caved.
One of the boys, Gustav, asked "How do you imagine we do that?Wie stellst du dir das vor?" The other children waited in anticipation, giggling and whispering as if something David had said was funny. Maybe he had said something odd. His German might be a bit rusty, as he hadn't spoken it this much in years.
"I spy, with my little eye…Ich sehe was, was du nicht siehst…" David started, looking around for something that was just obvious enough that they could get it without much trouble. The kids eagerly awaited the description so they could begin their search. "…something thin and pointy.…Etwas dünnes und spitzes." He finished. The four looked around for a few minutes before the other girl, Christa, spoke up.
"It's a pine needle!Es ist eine Kiefernnadel!" Christa exclaimed gleefully. David nodded in agreement, as the other kids were disappointed that they had missed it. She stood there, mouth agape as if she had the best possible idea for what the others should be looking for. "I can't think of anything.Mir fällt nichts ein," she said, seemingly unaware of the anticlimactic presence that hung over the group. "Alfons, you do it first!Alfons, mach du zuerst!"
Alfons seemed to be the quietest one of the four. David wondered if he was always thinking or if he just didn't have much to say. "I spy with my little eye… something square shaped!Ich sehe was, was du nicht siehst… etwas Quadratisches!" The boy rattled this off quickly just as David heard his text tone. As the other kids scrambled to find anything vaguely squarish, David pulled out his phone, revealing a text from Dr. Davis.

How's it going on your end? Found any interesting plants or whatever you botanists do?

He chuckled. He wondered if she would commiserate with him or laugh at his present circumstances.

No, but somehow I got wrangled into watching four kids. Parents these days. You find anything?

Well, kids can be more observant than adults. I'm still sorting through character archetypes, interpretations, and all kinds of things. I'll let you know when something sticks out to me.

Cool. I think theres a way I can drop a pin in SCPMaps to let you know where my location is. Once I find the sightings I'lacnx;j

Dorothea pulled hard on David's arm, nearly yanking the phone out of his hands. "We're here.Wir sind da." She said. The others became quiet. David wasn't quite sure where the tree had been. Perhaps it was too long ago to notice anything different. But he thought something seemed odd about the clearing. He looked around and saw a few scattered dying rose petals.
"Move me as close as you can possibly get to where the tree was.Bewege mich so nah wie möglich dahin, wo der Baum war." Dorothea obliged, carefully leading him a meter or so further in the clearing. With a calculated precision, she inched him left and right, forward and back, until he could tell she was certain. He was standing where the tree had first appeared. He looked down and saw a few more petals, plenty of juniper berries (not uncommon on the forest floor), but the thing that caught his attention was the almonds. He remembered Davis had been fixated on one when they had found the tree. He wondered what she was thinking. What could she learn from an almond? What could he learn from it? What if all he had to do was reach down, grab and almond, take a bite, and…
His text tone snapped him back to reality. In the few seconds of positioning and distraction, he had already missed several texts from Davis.
What are you going to do at the sightings?

Mr. Vadas?

Vadas, are you in trouble?

David, answer me

Sorry! Kid grabbed my arm. I'm fine, I'm at the first sighting now.

And I think I can save the location in the map, gimme a sec

You dropped a pin. Click here to open map.

Sorry for freaking you out, Doc. I'll pin the other three locations and send them to you.

The children were looking at him intently. He wasn't sure what to say, if he should say anything. Gustav finally said, "It was a rock.Es war ein Stein." He held up the vaguely square-shaped rock to show David. David hesitated for a second.
"You won this round. So you get to lead us now. Show us where you saw the tree.Du hast diese Runde gewonnen. Also führst du uns jetzt und zeigst, wo du den Baum gesehen hast." A huge grin creeped across Gustav's face. He made a gesture to follow him, then sprinted off in another direction. David realized he didn't feel quite as awkward as he had before. He ran after the children, jumping over plants and grabbing low hanging branches along the way.

The kids soon grew disinterested in "I Spy." Though the game was still on, it was more of a courtesy at this point. David's plant facts, on the other hand, were very interesting. Perhaps his German wasn't perfect, but he talked about plants with such passion that the children couldn't help but pay attention to David's vision of how wonderful plants were, the various things you could make from them, and the different properties they each had. David was just glad to have someone listen to him for once. He could go on and on about plants. He had almost completely forgotten about the game as Gustav and Christa led him to where they had spotted it. He sent the pins to Davis, hoping she might see some pattern before he did. Not that he was trying too hard to figure the pattern; he was having too much fun geeking out about all of the plants.
"I spy, with my little eye…Ich sehe was, was du nicht siehst…" Christa started, bored. Then an inflection changed in her voice as something caught her attention. "Something red, green, and gold.Etwas rot, grün und goldenes." David took a second, but when he had translated, he realized the color scheme was very familiar. He quickly looked around the green foliage, past pine and oak, in search of juniper. Sure enough, he saw a familiar bird in a (rather normal) juniper tree. David turned to the children and made a signal to stay silent, pointing at the bird to get confirmation from Christa. She nodded, with a big smile. It quickly turned into a look of confusion at David's somber reaction. They all turned to the bird, still and staring. David swore he could hear leaves rustling from miles away.
"Why are you so quiet?Warum seid ihr so still?" The bird said in a singsong voice. The children were awestruck at the vocalizations, mouths gaping in surprise. "Nothing will hurt you for being loud.Nichts wird euch weh tun, weil ihr laut seit." David pondered this for a second, but before he could reply, the bird flew away.
"Dammit! We have to follow it!" He said, forgetting his audience. He quickly corrected himself, "Follow it!Folgt ihm!" and the five were sprinting after the swift bird, dodging and weaving around the forest.
"English, on the other hand," the bird taunted from the treetops, "is a dangerous language. That might get you killed. In fact, if I were you, I might not speak it at all." David ran, not realizing he had begun to drift from the children. They followed the reverberating sounds of a far off song, running as fast as their legs could take them. David felt himself tiring quickly, and it wasn't long before he could run no further. He felt himself start to collapse in a small clearing and attempted to regain balance, finally stopping to breathe. Hands on his knees, he took deep breaths though his lungs begged for quick shallow ones, and stared past the ground as if we was looking at the earth's core. He recognized he had just ruined another chance at finding this anomaly, and felt defeated. Before he could let that thought plague him, however, another, more terrifying thought came to him.
"The kids," he whispered. He snapped his neck to look around for any sign of the energetic bunch. How could they have gotten so far apart from each other in such a short amount of time? Were they still together? "Dorothea!" He hoped wherever they were they could hear him. "Christa! Alfonse! Gustav!" He felt so stupid. This was why he wasn't good with kids, he was too irresponsible. He couldn't even keep track of them, and he now he couldn't help them if the bird— What would the bird even do? "Oh, this is a mess!" He murmured, mentally kicking himself for agreeing to watch over not one, but four kids, all of whom he had now lost. He caught his breath, and was about to call out to them when a familiar face appeared from behind a bend.
"Christa!" he said, relieved. "Oh, thank god. You're ok. You're ok.Es geht dir gut." From the corner of his eyes he saw Gustav, and Dorothea dropped in from a nearby tree. Alfons snuck up from behind and quietly tapped his shoulder. "Did any of you see where the bird went?Hat einer von euch gesehen, wo der Vogel hin ist?" He still felt the panic from before and was disappointed to see not a single one of them had been able to keep up with the bird.
"What was the bird saying?Was hat der Vogel gesagt?" Gustav asked, curious.
"'Don't speak English.''Sprich kein Englisch.'" David paraphrased. He looked off into the distance. The bird was out there, among the foliage, and David was sure that he had been threatened by it. He wouldn't have anybody be hurt because of his mistakes. "I have to go after it.Ich muss ihm hinterher."
"David…" a quiet voice started.
"I almost lost you four and I don't know what that bird can do.Ich habe euch vier fast verloren und ich weiß nicht, was dieser Vogel alles kann."
"David." Dorothea turned toward the boy.
"I lost the tree and now thisIch habe den Baum verloren und nun das and I don't know if I can help anyone—"
"David!" Alfons asserted himself to the surprise of all of them. He paused, as if he was about to say something important. "We're here.Wir sind da." David was confused for a second. "I saw the tree here.Hier habe ich den Baum gesehen." He explained.
"Where was it?Wo war das?" David asked, raising his foot to move.
"Stop!Halt!" The boy interrupted "Right… there.Genau …da." David stared for a second before receiving a nod from Alfons. Without saying anything he took his phone out and sent the final pin to Dr. Davis. He then quickly sent a text asking Davis to add the pin where they had first found the tree to the map.
"Thank you. All of you.Vielen Dank. Euch allen." He started heading back towards Verstecktedorf, a solemn expression on his face. He could hear the quiet footsteps behind, grave as soldiers marching home from war. He didn't realize one pair had wandered off.
"David? What is this plant?Was ist das hier für eine Pflanze?" David turned around, and saw Gustav peering down at a small stream, a few meters away. Short plants were growing all around the water, but Gustav was interested in a particularly exotic flower, elegant and dark in color.
David took a second to match the flower to its scientific name, and was surprised when he finally realized it. "Zantedeschia aethiopica. Calla-lillie." He replied. "I think those are called,Ich glaube, die heißen," he chuckled, "Schwarzwald Calla Lilien. Because of the color.Wegen der Farbe."
"Cool!" Dorothea said. She gently touched one of the flowers, in awe at the deep color. "Can they be used for anything? Are they a medicine plant?Können sie für irgendetwas benutzt werden? Sind sie eine Heilpflanze?"
David chuckled. He thought she must have been taking mental notes; she had been asking these kinds of questions since he mentioned some plants could be used to make medicine."Not that I know of. Eating them can make you sick.Nicht, dass ich davon wüsste. Man wird krank, wenn man sie isst." He chuckled again at how surreal the situation was. "Strange. They don't grow here. Somebody must have planted them.Komisch. Die wachsen hier normallerweise nicht. Jemand muss sie gepflanzt haben." He pondered this, realizing this was only the second out of place plant he had discovered in the past few days. Another voice interrupted his contemplation.
"What are you looking at, Alfons?Wonach schaust du, Alfons?" Christa interrupted. Alfons' eyes were trained on something in the distance that was no longer there.
"I thought I saw a manIch dachte, ich hätte einen Mann gesehen." Alfons replied, finally looking back to the group.
"Do you really believe what your grandpa tells you?Glaubst du wirklich die Dinge, die dein Großvater dir erzählt?" Dorothea teased, as if making fun of a fear. Alfons only shrugged in response.
"What does your grandfather tell you?Was erzählt dir dein Großvater?" David asked, concerned.
Christa started "He tells the scariest story about how his brother disappeared. He says it had something to do with a wooden man.Er erzählt diese schreckliche Geschichte darüber, wie sein Bruder verschwunden ist. Er sagt, es hätte etwas mit einem Holzmann zu tun."
David was slightly confused by what they were saying, wondering if the translation in English was the same. "Do they mean a woodsman? Like, with an axe?Wie, mit einer Axt?" he asked.
"Ja!" Gustav chimed in.
"His brother went into the forest one day and never came back.Sein Bruder ging eines Tages in den Wald und kam niemals zurück." Dorothea explained.
"What happened to him?Was ist mit ihm passiert?"
"He met the wooden man.Er traf den Holzmann." Christa continued.
"Grandfather won't tell me what the wooden man did to his brother.Großvater sagt mir nicht, was der Holzmann mit seinem Bruder gemacht hat." Alfons explained, "But he says to respect the forest and to never speak English there.Aber er sagt dass ich den Walk respektieren soll und dort kein Englisch sprechen soll."
"It's just a storyEs ist nur eine Geschichte." Gustav said. David was unconvinced. "Where are calla lilies from?Woher kommen die Callas?"
David smirked as the five quickened their pace back to the village. "Afrika."

I've done some more research.
And I think I might understand what's going on with the tree.

You know that bird that lead you on a wild European Bee-eater chase?

I immediately regret typing that.

I just saw it.

What?!

Meet me at the first pin with the map and any information you've got in an hour.

And look up if there's anything about a child, surname Sauber, disappearing some time ago.

What? Why?

I got some cryptic advice from both the bird and the kids. I want to find out what's going on once and for all.

Der Machandelbaum

Schwarzwald

Fauna


"Here you are, sir."
Mr. Bear placed a vial of clear blue liquid on top of a messy, massive purple desk, draped with a thin black cloth and smothered in stacks of manuscripts, notebooks, graph paper, blueprints, pencils, pens, inkwells, a modeling mannequin, a picture of his niece, an assortment of popsicle sticks, a jar of lollipops, another jar of quills, a pile of envelopes, a wax stamp, an ink stamp, two balls of string, three pairs of scissors, an alarm clock, an unplugged computer mouse, a typewriter, and a small, neat, golden plaque that read, in fancy cursive font:

Dr. Cornelius Młynarczyk Wondertainment

Behind the desk sat the namesake — a tubby man in a black and purple suit, stained in several places with ink (though it was hard to make out due to his dark palette). He had a bright pink handkerchief in his left breast pocket, and he had a matching belt and bracelets on both arms. His eyes were a deep blue, and his hair was a rusty brown — colors sharp and distinct, in direct contrast to his almost greying skin, that of someone who never stepped outside unless absolutely necessary. He was mindlessly toying with a large yellow yo-yo in his right hand, and with his other he had propped his tired head up on the table. He looked as if he had been in this position, doing this activity, for days.
But when he saw the vial, he smiled softly, almost shyly, revealing a row of teeth that never got braces but probably would have benefited from them.
"Thank you, Brainy. You're being a great help. Have a Wonderful day, and keep up the good work."
Cornelius sat up, and reached a slow and steady hand towards the vial, picking it up and examining it in the light — of which there was not a terrible amount. Cornelius's office had two or three bright, directional lamps, but when they were not in use they were turned off, and he always kept his heavy curtains drawn. Currently there was only one, to Cornelius's left, that made the desk glisten with stark shadows.
After turning the vial from side to side, and finding it satisfactory, Cornelius stood, and pocketed it… but he did so slowly, and unsurely.
"Brainy? I have dismissed you. You're free to go."
"I know so, sir." But Brainy maintained position, looking quite uncomfortable in his teddy bear face paint and his white and blue suit.
Cornelius scanned him up and down, as best he could in the mere red glow that reached as far as Brainy stood.
"But?"
Brainy swallowed. "But, sir, I feel a right to know."
"Know what."
"Well, sir, you've asked me to 'skim off the top', so to speak — to take a sixth, a-and you were very precise about that, so I've been very precise about it, and to take that sixth, and give it to you, which I have done, dutifully, every time, but, eheh, you see, I just am feeling like… if you, if you, take, my project, and tell me just to change the slightest piece — with something so important as this? I am curious, and I feel like I ought to know, you know? This is the sixth, you have a full soul now — or the means to make one, and I can't imagine there was anything else you'd be so set on doing, and I want to know… I want to know what you're doing, sir. If. You wouldn't mind. That is. Heheh. Ahem."
Cornelius's position hadn't changed. He was half turned away from Brainy, his stare still inquisitive, his pose mid-action, his eyes curious.
"I can leave, if you'd—"
"No, no, that's quite alright. You're right. You have a right to know. Can you keep a secret, Brainy?"
"Wondertainment's practices, projects, and productions are strictly confidential — trade secrets are big keep-its, sir."
"Yes, I know you know that. I mean, from the other employees. Toy Tinkers. Can you keep a secret from your friends?"
Brainy clicked with his tongue, absently. "I haven't told them about the sixths that I'm giving you, sir, yes. I think I've proven I'm safe. Not to sound full of… myself. Heh."
Cornelius let the silence pervade again, if only for dramatic effect, and then smiled in the same fashion as before. "Alright, Brainy. I need you to come with me."
Cornelius stepped back into the blackness, where Brainy lost him.
"Sir, where did you—?"
But before he could finish the thought, a light poured out of a door that Brainy had never seen through the shadowy office. The silhouette of Cornelius waved to come through, and an anxious Brainy complied. Stepping through the doorway, it soon became apparent that Brainy was looking at a long spiraling staircase, in which the only way to go was down.
He made eye contact with Cornelius, who only smiled wider (but not very wide — the smile of Cornelius was always a modest one, one that never liked to be the center of attention). Cornelius wordlessly began down the staircase at an eager pace, and Brainy followed close behind, feeling it rude to question where they were going. The stairwell's chrome-white walls were claustrophobia-inducing, and the ornate metal stairs clanged and rattled with each step. The awkward staircase was a short trip, though, as Cornelius quickly landed at the bottom, and opened a well-used red door. Brainy saw him disappear through it as it exuded an old, loud creak.
As Brainy landed on the final step, he startled.
Cornelius had stepped aside, in a stance akin to the butler welcoming someone into a fancy mansion — but beyond him, centered in a glorious spotlight, was a body. Limp, tied, and red. Bright red.
Brainy felt as if he had just walked in on a crime scene.
"Ta-daah," Cornelius whispered weakly, keeping his smile.
Brainy Brian, who would have been named Wordy William had that not been a coworker and close acquaintance of his, was very suddenly at a loss for words. Unappreciative of his stationary reaction, Cornelius went ahead and flipped the lights, to reveal that there was more to the room than just the… husk in the center. There were, in fact, a great many things. Tables upon tables of materials, for one — googly eyes, loaves upon loaves of stale bread, the other five clear blue vials, balls of a wide spectrum of yarn, cloth, wool, two jars of honey, three unmarked closed boxes, buttons, string, sewing materials, worked leather, sheets of metal, screws, bolts, nails, marbles, literally just a pile of rocks, a related pile of gemstones, a couple tupperwares filled with several types of dirt, glass tubes, containers of sugar, containers of salt, and a single out-of-place plastic arm.
On the other side of the room, there was a slanted table used to hold all manner of tools — hammers, nailguns, stapleguns, pliers, saws (including a bone saw), scalpels, tweezers, razor blades, a machete, wrenches, ropes, zipties, an alarming variety of mirrors, a retractor, those flashlights that you peer into ears with, a stethoscope, a collection of kitchen knives, magnets upon magnets, electrical tape, several coils of multicolored wires, a blowtorch, and a… guitar?
But the most pervasive elements of the room were the bookshelves. One would strain to tell if this was some sort of laboratory, or instead was an unorthodox library. If there was any sort of wallpaper, it was impossible to tell, as the circular space was covered from floor to ceiling in bookshelves along the wall. Each bookshelf was packed to overflowing with tomes, to the point that it bled out into tall stacks of books on the floor, some of which were so large as to obscure the bookshelves themselves.
"Welcome," said Cornelius as he walked towards the body, "to my workshop."
"W-w-what am I looking at, what is this!?"
"It's my secret, Brainy. It's my secret room."
"At the back of your office?"
"There's a reason I keep the lights off. It's surprising just how easy it is to hide things. I hardly had to try."
"B-but what is this, what is this?"
"Oh, him?" Cornelius put an arm around the body's shoulders. "He's the project you're helping me make."
"…Make?"
"Come on, come closer, I have things to show you."
Brainy hesitated, perspirated, and contemplated. "Will it…?"
"He's got no soul, Brainy, why do you think I needed this? He's harmless, come in."
Brainy, feeling pressured, walked slowly into the room, making sure to keep a respectful distance from the corpse. He jolted when Cornelius grabbed its chin and lifted its head up suddenly, to show the face of a young boy with bright red lips and equally vibrant cheeks.
"Here he is, Brainy. The culmination of my efforts. Of my work."
"What work?"
"That's a long and winding conversation, Brainy. One that I will have with you later. But for now, I wish only to boast, if you would so humor me."
Brainy nodded.
"It's taken me several years, and it's taken me many travels to find the books I have sought… but in secret I have been building this body. It is no ordinary body, Brainy. I did not find it, it was not given to me. I built it. He is sexless — without genitalia. He will have no libido, nor a drive for violence. He will only have the capacity to love. Love… and to make music."
Brainy decided not to speak, despite the pause.
"He's the star of a band, Brainy. He's the star of what I'm going to call… 'The Little Misters'."
"…Plural, sir?"
"He is only the first, Brainy."
Brainy gave Cornelius a look that you're not supposed to give your boss — a look that read "what are you, mad?". Cornelius either thought it was amusing, or didn't notice it, because all he did was grin.
"Eventually, there will be ten of them. Then maybe fifteen. Twenty? It depends, Brainy, it depends. But it all has to start somewhere, and he is that 'where'. And now," Cornelius pulled out the vial Brainy had given him, "he will come to life."
Brainy's eyes widened. "Right now?"
"With your help, yes. We're going to put a soul into his body."
"I-I-I don't know how!"
"Trust me, I have innovated on the ancient designs of homunculus crafting. They made it such a chore to get a soul into a body, but my methods make it easy. It won't take more than two minutes, if you bring me the rest of those five vials over there."
…
"Well? Come now, I'd rather not do all the walking."
Brainy slowly made his way towards the tables of materials, and plucked the vials from atop a mountain of metals, plastics, and esoterica. He was more than just hesitant to the idea of joining Cornelius by the corpse's side, but Dr. Wondertainment's beckoning hand inevitably drew him close enough to hand the vials over.
"Thank you. Now, I'm going to need you to hold his mouth open as I poor these down."
"What!?"
"I could do it myself, but each vial has exactly one sixth of a child's soul. I'd rather cut the possibility of spilling as low as possible, and for that I request that you hold his mouth open. Can you?"
Brainy hadn't winced more in his life.
"C-could I at least have gloves…?"
"They're right by the surgical tools, over there."
Brainy dashed towards where Cornelius had nodded, found a pair of blue plastic gloves, and returned with at least a molecule of confidence more than he had before.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, sir."
Cornelius tilted the body's head back, and motioned for Brainy to take the helm. Brainy, shakily, placed his right hand behind the cadaver's head, and used his left to hold open his mouth.
"Perfect. Now, keep him still, please." Brainy kept as still as he could, while Cornelius lifted the first vial. Cornelius was not an expressive man — everyone who worked with him saw as much. His feelings were private, his smiles were polite, his voice was modest, his movements were calculated. In a place such as Wonder World!™, his attire was quite drab. In a place with a great many neon colors and harsh, exciting shades, his outfit always stood out as being particularly dark and unassuming, even if it would be considered eccentric in the outside world — it was strange in its normality.
But here, Brainy thought that he had seen a bit of that mask fall, as Cornelius looked as though he was just barely keeping down his energy. His smile was still small, his movements still slow — but they were less slow. His smile wasn't as small. And his eyes… his eyes looked as if they were just about to pop out of their sockets.
Cornelius removed the stopper, and took two deep breaths. "Alright. First one, down the hatch. Thank you," he read the label, "Lily."
The sparkling blue liquid poured cleanly into the open throat, and slowly spiraled down it like a toilet being flushed. Cornelius honored each "donor" as they were used — second was Genevive, then came Adrian. Cornelius mused that his uncle was named Michael, before pouring the fourth one in. Then went a Howard, and then…
"Thank you, Benji." Cornelius began to tip the final vial, but, right before a drop had spilled out, he stopped. "Brainy, I'm going to need your compliance. When this sixth vial goes through, step away from him, and when he wakes up, don't say a word."
"Not a—?"
But before Brainy could question further, a piece of Benjamin's soul circled the drain, and disappeared from view. As asked, Brainy immediately leapt back, not sure what it would do when it got up. But… to Brainy's surprise, much of his fear had dissipated. He found himself beginning to share Cornelius's excitement. The body had yet to move, its head still tilted back on the chair, its jaw still low, its eyes still closed. Cornelius appeared to be holding his breath, both his hands pulled back near his chest, his right still clutching the final empty vial.
But then, as Cornelius had seen jumpscares do in many a horror movie, its eyes shot open.
Cornelius put both his hands over his mouth, but his eyes betrayed that he had smiled in such a way that no one had ever seen him smile. Not politely, nor modestly. Quickly, though, he regained his composure, and motioned for Brainy to remain quiet by placing a finger on his mouth. Afterwards, he knelt by the body — person, the… vessel, and spoke softly.
"Sit up, please, and close your mouth."
The thing complied, at snail's pace, assuming an upright position in the chair — still very much restrained by leather straps. Brainy could see now that its eyes were just as red as its lips, cheeks, and hair.
"Who am I?" It said in a young, androgynous voice.
"You should first ask, 'what am I', because that is a question I can answer. And you, my child," Cornelius ran a hand through the soft red hair, "are the first Little Mister. You are an artificially created human, and your purpose is to entertain children."
"Entertain children?"
"Yes, entertain children."
"How am I going to do that?"
"Wait here." Cornelius stood, strode past Brainy without looking at him, and secured the guitar that was sitting by the side of all the tools. He brought it back to the Little Mister, and showed it to him. "You are going to entertain children with your voice, and with this. It is an instrument, and it is called a guitar. You will learn how to play it — singing and playing guitar for children is your greatest passion. You will follow it to the ends of the earth."
The thing nodded.
"How am I to play the guitar?"
Cornelius lowered his head in thought for a second, and then made towards the leather straps. He undid the ones restraining the Little Mister's arms, and then placed the guitar on his lap. "You will teach yourself, with my help. For now, see what you can come up with."
Its hands slowly grasped the guitar, steadily and precisely.
"There is more I must teach you, and listen to me closely."
The thing turned its attention away from the guitar and towards Cornelius once more.
"You work for the Dr. Wondertainment company. You will live happily in Wonder World, and you will not be afraid of crowds. You're going to be a little nervous about your abilities, you will play up this fact because it makes you relatable, and cute. You have stage fright, but your love of entertaining overcomes this fear each time. You enjoy pancakes, and you like them more than waffles. You will also answer to Dr. Wondertainment. Not the company, the person. You will know them as Dr. Wondertainment, because everyone will refer to them as Dr. Wondertainment. They are your father. They brought you into existence, and you love them."
Cornelius took the Little Mister's right hand, and covered it with both of his.
"I am Dr. Wondertainment. I am your… your dad. And I love you."
The Mister's expression had not changed — it was never anything but stone cold, straight faced… mild, unreadable. Nevertheless, it said the following:
"I love you too."
"Good, good," Cornelius wiped the hint of a tear from his eye. "Soon, soon you will have brothers. Maybe even a sister or two, if ever I feel like fathering one. You will love them as you love me, do you understand? And they will be your music partners. You will sing and play with them. You will perform with them. You will entertain children with them. And you will do it out of the goodness of your heart, because you love all human beings, no matter their gender, their sexuality, their race, or whether they are artificial beings or not. Do you understand?"
It paused. "I understand."
"Good. Now, sleep."
It went very suddenly limp, and Cornelius swiftly grabbed the guitar to make sure it would not fall.
"Brainy, do you know what we should call him?"
"I… I'm… n-no, sir, I've…" Brainy could hardly speak, in much the same way as he could hardly believe his eyes. Was this a dream? A hallucination? It wasn't out of the question. Especially not for Brainy.
"I think I have it. He's a Little Mister, so he must be 'mister' something. Mister, mister… he must be… he must be…" Cornelius's eyes darted from one thing to another, looking for inspiration from anything around him. "Oh, oh of course. He must be Mr. Red."
"Hhh, hh, heh, heheh, yes, sir, that, that seems fitting."
"I… I made him red because he's the first, and red is the first color in the rainbow. Though, I plan to make many more than seven Misters, the color theme will not continue. But, it is marketable… for now. Can you imagine, Brainy? A children's band, a Wondertainment children's band. There they will be, the face of all our products… the forefront of our image. It will be a new era of Wondertainment, do you understand?"
Brainy expected the monologue to continue, but instead Cornelius had cut it short and stared unblinking at him. "Uhh, uh, y-yes, sir, I understand, sir."
"Their albums will sell like nothing we've ever made before. And in each, there will be songs, songs that sell our products. They will be in all our commercials, they will be the… the Wondertainment family. A whole… a whole family." Cornelius put his hands over both the Little Mister's ears, and angled its head up, so he could stare directly into its sleeping face. "The Little Misters. And he will be our main singer. Mr. Red. It's perfect. Now, stay silent, Brainy. Wake up."
The Little Mister's eyes shot open, just as before.
"You, you will be named Mr. Red."
"Mr. Red?"
"Yes, Mr. Red…" Cornelius suddenly pulled back from the Little Mister, and held his own head as he hunched over.
"S-sir? Sir, what's wrong?"
Cornelius groaned, and stumbled his way into one of the bookshelves, which he used as support to keep himself upright, his face turned away from Brainy. Brainy began to come closer, but before he could come to Cornelius's aid, Cornelius yelled:
"Junior! You are… Mr. Red Jr., do you understand?"
"I understand," said Mr. Red Jr..
"Sir, Dr. Wondertainment sir, what's wrong, would you like me to help?"
Cornelius only stumbled forwards more, avoiding Brainy's outstretched hand.
"With two D's, it's, it's… Mr. Redd Jr., with two D's! D-do you understand?"
"I understand," said Mr. Redd Jr..
"What is this about, sir — why two D's, why 'junior'?"
"Because Mr. Redd can't be replaced…"
"B-but sir, there is no Mr. Redd, who are you…? D-do you want me to get someone? I-I can go upstairs, I can—"
Cornelius suddenly turned around, and grabbed Brainy by the wrist, at which Brainy yelped. Cornelius's eyes had become very suddenly bloodshot, and his body was shaking absolutely uncontrollably. His breaths were quick and shallow, his nose was twitching, and his mouth was slightly open.
"Brainy."
"Ahh, ahh, y-y-yes, s-sir?"
"Do… do you ever feel like you're not in control of yourself, Brainy? Like you're present for all your actions, but there's someone in the back of your head… and that's you, and all that you are doing is by some different you, someone who's seeing with your eyes and speaking with your mouth but they're against you? They're against everything you're for, and they're taking every chance they can to steer things in their direction? Or that, that, there's an outside force, guiding what you do? Do you ever feel like you have no options? That what you do was planned from the beginning?"
Brainy was frozen. Cornelius was frozen. Their eyes were locked together, Brainy staring down into the hunched over Cornelius. Cornelius thought that he might have seen Brainy's eyes begin to water, and his cheeks begin to flush red… but then he smiled. An unhinged, maniacal smile. One that couldn't fool anybody.
"No, sir! I'm a Toy Tinker, and every day I strive t-to make ch-ch-children happy, and I love my job, and everyone I work with, and everything I've ever done has been because I wanted to, sir, sir, I-I'm a model employee, j-j-just like I've always been, just like everyone is, and I am here to make the world a better place, sir! I-I'm here to make the world a better place!"
Cornelius's grip on Brainy's wrist loosened, and as soon as it did, Brainy jumped back, towards the door out of the workshop. Cornelius dropped to his knees, and his arms fell uselessly to his side. In a moment, his eyes welled with tears that fell down his cheeks and pooled on his chin.
"S-sir?"

"LEAVE!"

Cornelius's voice-cracked scream followed Brainy up the stairwell, into Dr. Wondertainment's office, and all the way home.


Polybus Maximus' first feeling fired from his fingers to his face. A throbbing, bubbling pain yawned behind his head, before roaring across the rest of his body. Scrunching his face into rough veined terrain, Polybus considered staying here forever. Refusing to open his eyes, he attempted to sit up and discovered an obstacle around two inches from his face. Cursing the new focus point of pain on his forehead, he groped forward to push his way free from his prison.
Fingers meeting cold smoothness began pushing upwards, until his still-closed eyelids detected cracks of light sifting to his sight. Risking it all, Polybus opened his eyes.
The scene before him was one of perfectly preserved chaos. The floor's surface was hidden beneath a jagged sea of debris. Guests who had not been able to make their exit the night before lay intermittently between the remains of their festivities. Some still had goblets clutched between their fingers while others lay nude and snoring in the vicinity of a sofa.
Harsh light from the rising sun had begun peeking through windows and doorframes, much to Polybus' chagrin. Attempting to stand fully upright only managed the feat of buckling his knees. Already unsteady, the clay barrel toppled to the floor, scuffing it and the occupant alike.
Face-first in a half-eaten pineapple, Polybus began to form a recollection of how he had managed to enter this state. That there had been a grand feast and celebration was obvious. As the waking haziness lifted from his eyes, it became apparent that the men he bore witness to were in fact his friends and comrades. There lay Brutus, clutching at a couch with one hand and grasping the neck of a broken wine jar in the other. Behind him lay Publius, loudly snoring next to graffiti scratched into the wall reading 'PUBLIUS FUCKED HERE'.
A half-burned banner lay strewn atop the mess. Smudged and illegible script which had once read "WE SHALL MISS THEE POLYBUS" now looked to have been used as every manner of towel, dishrag and cleansing wipe. Groaning, but also smiling, Polybus worked his way out of the barrel and collapsed onto the ground.
"Polybus" croaked a familiar voice, as the rustling toga roused itself from the floor. "Are you still there, young scion?"
"Of course. I could not abandon thee." Polybus felt his head swirl as he attempted to stand again, so settled for staring upwards at his speaking partner. It was Publius, toga stained by bodily fluids and other assorted liquids, righting himself on shaking legs.
"I told you before that we shouldn't ever forget you. Now I know it to be true. I've not partied in such a way since—" pausing, Publius threw the last solid remnants of the feast from his stomach to the floor. Wiping his mouth, he began sliding some of the refuse atop his puddle. "Not since the dawning of the Ogden Imperium has there been such… such merriment. But also sadness."
"My comrade, come closer." Polybus flipped himself upright, gazing upside-down and seeing a smile on his friend's lips. "We may never see one another again, at least not for time unknown, I wish to remember how you are."
"No, my friend. Don't remember me in this state. Know our friendship is stronger than one night, however joyful it was. I shall always know thee from our small wars over the knothill behind our tutors yard, taking the heat for you, my true brother, as I took your smoking leaves and bid thee away so that I might be one to fall for our mischief."
Tears began welling in Polybus, not bothering to hide it causing his friend to fill the goblets of his eyes. "You were always a true and noble comrade, Publius. I have never know a better or wiser man."
Laughing, Publius finally allowed gravity to take hold and collapse onto a sofa. "The feeling is mutual, my friend. But I hope you shall meet some even greater than me at University. It's going to be glorious for you."
"I hope so." For a moment, both of them sat in silence, letting wanderlust lead them down memory lane. Then, a new and rough voice called out as a broken wine jar finished its journey to destruction, shattering on the floor. It was Brutus.
"That was one hell of a Saturnalia, huh?"
With that they laughed. In a few hours, they would never see each other again.

The waters of the Bosphorous slapped against the uneven stone shoreline. The wood creaked underneath Polybus' feet as he and his adults walked towards an overcrowded rowboat. It had been quite some time since Polybus had heard the sound of hard wood. To afford sending him to school his parents had stopped buying any kind of kindling. Instead, they had first chopped down their fencing to burn in the pit. Then, the benches and tables. All the wooden barrels of course had to go. Their only method of storage became clay barrels which let the raindrops in.
When the weeds and overgrowth tangled the Maximus property and destroyed the beautiful quaint gardens they had spent so much time tending to, the rest of their neighbors had thought them to be mad. But their thoughts were the last thing on Polybus' mind. All he could see now were his two parents, standing before him on the dock. Behind him the boathands made the final preparations for their departure.
For a few moments before they spoke, Polybus's father uncorked a wine bottle and poured its contents into the Bosphorous. As the red liquid plunged into the pure, cold water, Polybus could see a reflection of his own face. It started as he appeared in childhood, before advancing through time to the present. Every bruise from young roughhousing, scars gained and healed through sport, and unfortunate choices of haircut, all flashed before his eyes in a moment before being swept away by the current.
Tears swelling in both of their eyes, they embraced tightly. Any speeches or final parting remarks which had been prepared fled from their minds. Lost for words, they enjoyed each others company on these rickety wooden docks.
The father, Stephen, spoke first. "We've done everything we can to prepare you for this. Do you know that you are ready?"
"Of course" Polybus could feel the hot air of his parents breath racing across his skin. In this close proximity, embraced tightly, he tried to remember every feature of their faces. The cadence of their voices. Anything to keep them in his heart over a journey across untold distance physical and mental. Nothing would be the same.
Mother speaking next, Julia, kissed him on the forehead before running her hand through his hair. "I'm not ready to see you leave. But I cannot and will not stop you. Do not ever forget where you came from, Polybus, promise me that."
Memories came flooding into his head. Learning to read the classics at his father's knee. The smell of bread and cherries from his mother's fire, sitting with her and tending it long into the night. Stories of their ancestors, heroes and some scoundrels alike. All of whom had lived and died to bring their little dynasty to this moment.
"I will not forget, Mother."
A moment later, the embrace was broken. Polybyus stepped onto the boat. A flash of steel cut the rope tethering them to the docks. Plunging into the dense fog laying atop the Bosphorous, the last visage Polybus saw of his lineage were two silhouette standing side by side, embraced still and waving with finality.
Then, they were gone.

The pair of boatmen driving the soon-to-be-students were a motley crew, shaggy unkept beards dangling down below their ankles. As they steered pointedly through impenetrable darkness their voices began to grow louder, until they both were shaking each other with merriment and laughter.
"Gort, you're doing everything wrong. I've never seen a worse navigator in my life. I don't know why I put up with a man who can't tell a buoy from a barnacle," said the shorter of the two, leaning into his companion and ribbing him with an elbow. "I will say, though, while I've never met a worse one I've definitely seen better looking."
"Where, exactly, are you referring to, Grud? The forum you've never been to, or the racetracks that you spend morning, evening and night at?" The taller man, Gort, cracked his knuckles, and continued steering the seacraft. "It's a wonder they ever let you into Alexylva."
"Who said anything about letting me in? They practically begged me to study there. Give their student body a little bit of character." Grud picked up a piece of thin twine, wrapped a chicken bone around the end, and dropped it into the water, allowing it to trail behind in their wake. "Otherwise that place gets so stiff and formal."
"Pfft. You're constitutionally incapable of any character. I've seen a virus do more for a body's character than you ever did." Gort watched the twine drag behind them, as Grud peered forward seemingly into nothingness. "I'll letcha know if you actually manage to catch something."
"Piss off. What do you know about constitutions? You've slept through every law class you ever took. Plus all the others. Maybe if you'd spent less time dreaming and more time in the Library you'd actually have something to show for it."
"Nothing to show for it? Every graduating class we ferry back on these boats is part of the legacy I leave behind." The bone that had been bobbing in the water dipped down, a development Gort watched with keen interest. "Keep watching, it looks like you might have something."
"Did either of you attend Alexylva?" asked the boy behind Polybus. The inquirer was an older boy, his dark skin silhouetted against the omnipresent fog. His arms were folded, with his toga folding in on itself to prematurely reveal pockmarked shins.
"Oh, sure. We both did" Grud said, keeping his eyes locked into the misty mystery which was unfolding in front of them. "What are you studying, boy?"
"Literature." said the boy, nervously glancing between their two patrons. "One day I wish to be a tutor."
Grinning, Gort worked his jaw in a circular rhythem. "Literature? I studied literature." With a great honking and grunting, he spat a loogie of considerable size into the water, which trailed behind the boat before entangling itself at surface level on the twine trailing behind them. "Top of my class, too."
Winking at nobody in particular, Grud hooked his elbow across his companion's neck. "I was never one for the classics, unlike this boor, so I took to the academic study of speaking. Haven't given a speech anywhere outside the school, mind you, but it was a nice way to get to yell at people."
"Oh, you all better watch yourselves. This man has lungs on him like the which the Gods have never seen."
With that, both of them laughed uproariously.
Polybus, shifting in his seat, looked out into the unseen horizon. "Is there a latrine on this boat?"
Grud pointed to the edge. "Test your luck. But if your stream attracts something, yer gong overboard."
Another boy, larger than Polybus or his rear companion, grunted out a question of his own. "Exactly how long did you attend the school?"
Looking at the inquirer, Gort opened his mouth, closed it, before working his eyebrows in a rapid fashion. Finally speaking, he spat out a sum. "A few years, almost our entire term. Both of us were ready to graduate in our year."
Grud began to cackle. "Didn't do us any good, mind you. Gort's foolishness got us both kicked out from both sides of the Bosphorous."
"Me? Oh, Grud you villain. Don't pin your shame onto my soul" Gort grunted, yanking on the thread and meeting with strong resistance. "You're the one who turned the Dean's reflection into an aged Bull Moose."
"Hmph. It was your idea."
Yanking again, Gort revealed a metallic collection of cobbled gears and rusted metal. "You have to admit, it was a pretty funny idea. But ideas are a dime a dozen. Actions speak louder than words."
"What's the catch?" Peeling his eyes away from their travels, Grud snatched the corroded nightmare from his companion's hand. "I can fix this up. It will fetch a fine price in Hankopolis.
Before anybody could react, Gort yanked on the string which still attached itself to Grud's newly-acquired treasure. Yelping with surprise, he splashed into the water and showered the occupants with a freezing drizzle. Before anyone could say anything, Gort made an announcement.
"We've arrived." Back towards where Grud's eyes had been pinpointed, the fog begin to part.
Before them was an imperial red building, parting the clouds which passed its topmost spire. A massive fence of white imperial columns flanked its perimeter while yawning archways spanned across the walls of the main building. The tiles on the roof were a majestic ruby color, glistening in the newly-found light. Eagles flew in great wide arcs, cawing and occasionally diving behind the building to parts unknown.
Stained glass windows glittered like great academic jewels, depicting scenes of learned scholars throughout history. Galbus discovering the spinning wheel, the ill-fated Derixias Matthews discovering the miniature self-propelled elevation foot mechanism, so many other scenes that it defied comprehension.
Polybus saw this, and he wept.

Although within their sight, the journey was not over yet. Pulling their baggage from the bottom of the boat and hefting it onto their backs, the students and guides began trudging their way towards this majestic palace of learning.
It was a hardy journey. Titanic trees begat legions of gnarled vines, permeating every possible foothold with a rough fibrous mesh. Clad only in sandals, Polybus and his fellows struggled to keep up with their more experienced guide. As they crested on another in a seemingly endless series of molehills, it happened. The boy who had sat behind Polybus on this long journey cried out in surprise.
His foot did slip, and he did fall. "Help!" he cried. That was all.
Briefly turning back, the group formed a perimeter as Gort gazed down on their injured ward with intellectual curiosity. The boy's leg was running red with blood, as a jagged branch of petrified wood pierced his leg. Whimpering, he looked up towards them with pleading, desperate eyes.
"What do you all make of him? Probably won't die today, but he'll definitely slow us down." Kneeling, Gort yanked on the stabbing implement, which came out with a yelp and a squelch.
The larger of the boys nodded in assent. "Aye. Should leave him behind. Unless someone's gonna shoulder his burden, he'll slow us down far too much. If we don't get there by nightfall…"
"Don't have to tell me twice." Dropping the stick, Gort turned his back and continued to push forwards into darkness. One by one, the students said their apologies and followed. Polybus, lingering, looked into the boy's teary eyes.
"Don't just stand there, boy" Gort grunted, motioning for Polybus to follow with the group. "We've still got a lot of ground to cover."
"Just a moment, sir" Polybus kneeled down, eye level with the boy. "Can you walk, if I help you?"
Pausing for a moment, the boy quickly nodded. Gort rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms, tapping his foot with a fast-paced pattern. "Fine, alright, grab him around by the arm and help him walk. But if you're both too slow, I'm not sticking around to be buzzard bait with you."
Nodding, Polybus wrapped the wounded boy's arm around his own neck and stood up, shouldering his weight. Leaving the bloodied satchel behind, they slowly progressed behind the group with Gort heckling them each time there was a momentary pause.
Gasping each time he took a step, the wounded one stuffed leaves into his wound and wrapped it in a ripped section of his toga.
Polybus said nothing to him, but stepped with him every foot of the journey which remained to them.

Arriving at the gates of Alexylva University just as the sun began to set, Polybus was slicked with sweat and blood which was not his own. The boy, long ago ceasing to whimper, looked forward with glazed eyes and an automatic expression. Color had long since drained from his flesh, dripping out and leaving a trail behind them. Nonetheless, he would live.
Stepping forward, Polybus felt the difference between dirt and marble. Past this threshold the air was fresher, and the grass was greener. The darkness which had haunted their journey replaced by a calm, bookish environment. Feeling none of the weight pressing painfully on his other shoulder, Polybus hefted his satchel and took his first steps into the future.
Walking towards them, in white linen robes not betraying a hint of soaking wetness, was Grud. Although his dress was far more majestic than what they had seen at sea, there was still a mischief twinkling in his eyes.
"You've all made it. I'm impressed, Gort. Usually you lose at least a few of them. Or perhaps you made it too easy on them. After all, there's only a tiny bit of blood here."
"Piss off." Gort grunted, before shuffling past them all and towards the school. "If you need me, headmaster, I'll be getting a drink in the hall."
Headmaster?
Smiling, Grud turned his attention back to the gaggle of young academics. "Alright, then, I may now welcome all of thee to Alexylva University. We have our welcoming session in the euphorarium. Of course, we shall provide and ingest the finest luminous chemicals."
For a moment, everybody in the group blinked. It was the boy who's burden Polybus shouldered who spoke first. "… Pardon me, sir?"
Sighing, Grud rolled his eyes. "Perhaps I should be speaking in the common vernacular of our times. You kids want to get high?"


graveyardshifter 08/12/2017 (Sat) 18:21:12 #90574322

I hate walk-in freezers. I've been working in retail and food service for five years, and I will do my damnedest to never go into one.
It's not because of the cold or the enclosed space. It's not even because of the fact that I'm afraid I'll get trapped in there and freeze to death— literally every freezer I've been in has a handle on the inside, and a few of them even have guidelines on the inside walls to tell you what to do if you're trapped. In the case of something like a Wal-Mart, they'll literally tell you to just move merchandise and climb out through the doors the customers use if you get trapped back there. Dinged-up ice cream is less expensive than a wrongful death suit.
It's because of the smell. If you've ever lived farther north than Kentucky, you'll know that cold has a smell. It's dry, harsh, almost metallic, and when the temperature gets low enough, it can be like trying to breathe through a nosebleed. It's suffocating, and it's worse in the artificial cold of a walk-in freezer, because it mingles with other scents— freezer-burned hamburger patties, cold plastic, ice forming on metal.
A few years ago, I worked in a big box warehouse store— I don't think I can legally say which one. About six months into the job, right before I got certified to do the forklift, I tried explaining all of this to one of my co-workers. One of my managers— a guy named Ryan who has less brain cells than syllables in his first name— walked by as I was talking about this, called me a pussy. "A little cold never killed no one", he said in an accent that would make Daisy Duke think he was a hick.
On top of being a dumbass, he was vindictive— when I had started working there, I'd snapped at him because he'd picked up an unstable pallet of drinks while on the forklift, and the entire thing spilled over, right as I was coming back to start stacking it down into a more stable position. I apologized to him (as you should when you snap at a manager) but he's held a grudge since. I know this because the instant I got my forklift license, I got put on freezer truck duty every time it came in.
The truck only came once every few days, and there were a couple of other operators I worked with regularly— Jake and Lisa were their names. There were two freezers in this store, and one cooler— let's call them Ice Cream, Meat, and Milk. I would do either Meat or Milk, but Jake or Lisa would always insist on taking Ice Cream, even it it meant slowing things down because we have to move pallets around. And they always made sure that one of them came in whenever the freezer truck came— if Jake was off, Lisa would be in, and vice-versa.
Then, Jake's grandmother died. Don't know how, but he called in for bereavement leave the same day that Lisa had to go home after she threw up right in the middle of stocking the snack aisle. I helped take her up to the break room to cool off, and she just kept apologizing to me. When Ryan came up with her ID so she could clock out early, I heard her begging him to not let me do the Ice Cream freezer by myself.
So, naturally, he forces me to do the Ice Cream freezer by myself. This sucks for several reasons— for one, Ice Cream is the oldest freezer in the store, and the opening is small enough that I can't take my forklift. So I have to take the pallet to the door, take it off the forklift, and go in by myself with a pallet jack.
For another, it's dark. I knew that much from looking at it from the outside— the actual racks where the ice cream is kept is lit up just fine, but beyond that is pitch black. I've watched Jake and Lisa do it a bunch of times, and the only light I see in there is when they open the door and wheel in the pallets.
For a third… the smell of cold I talked about? Even opening the freezer from the customer side, it reeks of that. I actually had to check that my nose wasn't bleeding after I bought ice cream from the freezer there. There's a reason that we don't really sell any of it, even in the dead of summer.
The first pallet comes off the truck. It's for Ice Cream, eight feet high, at least four wide. Ryan sneers at me as I go to do it by myself, and a few of the more experienced staff are just looking at me like they're seeing a cancer patient as they're being taken off life support.
When I finally open the freezer, it's like I just ran head-first into a brick wall. The darkness, the cold, the stench of frost, it's overwhelming. I have to bow my head and breathe through my mouth as I push the pallet in, having to crane my head to look around it to make sure I don't bump into anything.
There was nothing to bump into. To the left of the door, there's a set of shelves where you put damaged freezer items— Lisa had told me about it when I found an industrial sized container of ice cream in electronics, melting right on top of the case where we keep the iPhones, before taking it there herself.
But beyond that? Pitch blackness. The freezer is maybe twenty-five feet long, and about eight wide, when you account for the amount of space the shelving takes up. I put my hand out, and it stuck to the back wall of the freezer for a moment. But I move it a few more inches to the side, and it trails off into the dark air.

I look back, and through the plastic curtain that covers the freezer, I see the shape of Ryan looming there. I can almost make out the smug look on his face as he nods for me to go further in.
The floor— no, the ground below me crunches as I walk. There's ice everywhere, of the consistency one would expect if they took a cheese grater to a glacier. There's enough light from the entrance that I can see that the ice is black. Soon, after about fifteen feet, the light fades, and I'm in darkness.
"Keep going!" Ryan shouts, and I can tell he's on the verge of laughter. Probably expecting me to crack, to come running out so I can get written up for failing to do a duty assigned by a manager or something.
Another six feet in. I can tell that the freezer is bigger on the inside, but it's not, like, a full-on pocket dimension. Already, I can see the lights of the store from the other side of the freezer doors. The light there is bright enough that I can almost make out the individual brands of ice cream.
Then, my pallet hits something, and gets stuck. I try adjusting the jack a few times. Nothing. I try pulling it back and ramming it forward, thinking I got caught on a patch of ice or a splinter from the pallet. No dice. I try pushing forward, and I hear a an organic crunch, as if I'd just run the pallet jack over a large head of lettuce. It moves after that. I try to ignore the trail of red the pallet leaves behind.
After about twenty minutes, I reach the far end of the freezer. Things are semi-normal now, but the stench of cold has grown stronger, and is underlined by something else— and I see what it is.
I can't tell if he was tied to the shelves, or if he had died leaning on it and had just frozen to them. But before me was what I could only describe as some kind of mummy— a brown, desiccated body, covered in frost. At its feet are a collection of items— a few coins, some half- sandwiches, a frozen cup of water, even a hundred-dollar bill. The mummy looked like it was expecting me to leave something, too.
I dropped the pallet, first of all. Then, I rooted through my pockets, looking for anything to give him, because I wasn't sure if I would make it out if I didn't. The longer I rooted, the stronger the smell of cold became, and I wasn't sure if my nose was bleeding and freezing over, or if it just felt like it was. Eventually, I decided to leave behind the Payday bar I had been saving for my break.
The smell faded, and I took the jack and booked it. Ryan, the fucking asshole, made like he was going to slam the door to the freezer in my face, but stopped with barely enough room to let out me and the pallet jack— I heard it scrape against the metal of the door on my way out.
I had to go back in there two more times. One of the more experienced staff made damn sure that Ryan wasn't there. There were more smears on the floor, more ice, each time I went back in. On the third trip, I saw that my payday bar had the wrapper undone, and it had teeth marks in it. The hundred-dollar bill was gone, too.
The good news is that Ryan got fired for that, within, like, two days. It made local news, even. The official company line was that he had been attempting to 'haze an employee' which was pretty much the case. I got taken off of freezer truck duty, and my next paycheck had a massive bonus on it— it was over twice what it usually was. I could tell it was hush money.
That was two years ago, now. I never went back into the Ice Cream freezer, nobody expected me to, and nobody explained what was up with it. I quit late last year, after I got maced by a customer during Black Friday. I put it ouy of my mind— then I found a thread here documenting missing persons cases by state (started by alexandriahamilton, thread is here). There's an article about a guy from my area, worked there before forklifts became small or maneuverable enough to do much beyond putting stuff in the shelves. Worked the graveyard shift, even. Apparently he just vanished after unloading the freezer truck.

horushorsecollar 08/13/2017 (Sun) 15:24:08 #09652887

Dude, I think we worked at the same place!!! It's near Route 250 in Ohio, yeah? I worked there back in '05-06, I KNEW there was something creepy about that place. Never worked the freezer myself (I was cashier) but I always avoided the ice cream, because it smelled weird!
Ryan worked there, too, as a cashier— he got 'promoted' to graveyard shift manager about six months after I started, and he was a massive douchebag, but I still shot the shit with him on the regular. I'm actually meeting up with him in a couple of days for drinks, I'll ask him about this.

horushorsecollar 08/15/2017(Tue) 01:15:39 #98630530

Managed to talk to him. Asked him about the freezer, and he took a long swig of beer, sighed, and shook his head, before he asked one question: "Did graveyardshifter tell you?" (I'm putting your handle here because I think he used your real name.)
I told him yeah, I read about it from him. He said that it had been there since as long as he had worked there, maybe as long as the store had been there. Management didn't want to risk knocking down the freezer and unleashing whatever the hell was in there. When they did maintenance on the door, the mummy made sounds for a few weeks. That's around the time they started playing music in the store during daylight hours.

graveyardshfiter 08/15/2017 (Tue) 11:52:06 #98631237

Well, that explains a lot. Right after he was fired, they installed something called a "Free-osk". It's a machine that spits out free samples of products when you scan it with an app, and it plays a message, on loop, ever ten or fifteen seconds, telling you to buy the product loud enough that you can hear it from across the store. For about three weeks after it got installed, it couldn't be turned off period, even during night shift, and we would get written up if we unplugged it. They fed us a story about a glitch with the software, since it was supposed to turn off automatically after 8:30 (closing time).
I decided to try it out for myself one day, since it was giving out sample sizes of shampoo, and I needed travel-sized stuff for a trip I was taking. When you scan the app, the machine stops playing the message for about ten seconds while it processes and dispenses it. In the time between the message stopping and the product being dispensed, I heard someone whisper:
"I can't feel my nose, help, I can't feel anything, I can't feel my nose, I can't feel anything…"
I looked up at the freezer. The door was ajar, and the stench of frost was overwhelming. The bottle of shampoo I picked up burned cold, and I almost screamed as I dropped it. But I couldn't. I was frozen in an entirely different way.
The mummy had turned its head to look at me. It had no eyes, but I swear to god, it was looking at me. Its lips were moving, and it just kept on saying it was cold.
The machine's advertising started back up, and the door slammed shut by itself. I called in sick for the next week.


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🗿 sayfensound 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:16:22 #52761509

Megathread for wholesome and the cute paranormal stuffs!
Found something utterly unnatural— yet still adorable? Post about it here!

chupa-troopa 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:19:22 #52762341

chupacabra.jpg

I saw this Chupacabra once, looked like a mashup between a small dog and a bat. It may have been eating one of our farm goats alive, but damn if it didn't look cute while doing so.

kirkjack 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:20:38 #52762724

That's literally an oppossum.

chupa-troopa 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:22:52 #52763065

Oh.
Well, it's a cute opposum.
Plus it was still eating one of our goats, so that's creepy.

rigby1984 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:37:44 #52768535

help.jpg

Look at this adorable little guy!
My cat went missing and his blood was on its hands.

sepia 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:43:26 #5277092

A few months ago, my friends took me over to a nearby lake. You had to go through a forest to find it, but it was absolutely beautiful. No litter, no judging eyes on your back, you could just swim or chill with no worries.
This night, however, we noticed a small fish tank was partly buried in the sand. In it, a something was glowing— and after closer inspection, it was a squid!
The first thing one of my friends did was stir their finger in the water and lick it (despite us telling him it probably was unsanitary). Turns out they were in a freshwater tank, which was surprising because cephalopods live in exclusively saltwater.
We talked a bit and agreed on two things: that its name was going to be Cali, and that I was going to be taking care of it so I could reach out to some of my pals upstate who work at an aquarium. For all we knew, Cali was a newly discovered species!
After taking a quick picture of them, we lifted the tank out of the sand, and I noticed a scrap of paper in the pit left behind. The writing on it looked like chicken-scratches, but one of my teacher friends who has to read the handwriting of first graders for a living told me it said 'BEWARE.'
Creepy, but I shrugged it off and took Cali home anyways. Together me and my friends managed to lift the tank into my apartment's bedroom so I'd be able to watch it at nighttime.
Once they left, I walked into my bedroom to feel the unmistakable sensation of socked feet hitting a puddle of water. Cali's tank was quickly leaking!
Acting fast, I ran to the bathtub and started filling it up. When it was about half way full, I grabbed Cali out of the tank and quickly ran to the bathroom, plopping them into the tub. They felt like a squishy basketball with a lot more slime. They enjoyed themselves in that tub a lot! Must feel good to get out of a cramped container after… well, however long Cali was in there.
One friend came over a little later and donated a couple of her little bro's bath toys for Cali — a couple foam rings and a little toy tugboat was all she could get though. Cali was all fine and dandy with them until I put in that tugboat. They darted towards it as soon as it hit the water and just sat under it for the longest time. I didn't know if I did something wrong — if it didn't like the yellow color of the toy or something — I was concerned to say the least.

cali.jpg

Then, all the sudden, it popped its tentacles out of the water! One by one, they came out and wrapped around that little ship. I was just starting to chuckle when the showerhead suddenly turned on and soaked me and my poor reaction times. Then I heard the unmistakable pitter-patter of rain — then the bang of thunder. We were in a pretty substantial drought around then so this was out of the norm.
Cali had sunk that toy boat by the time I got back from getting a towel— showerhead was off too. They swam away from the boat— resuming their playtime with the other toys like before— and I barely even noticed the sound of the rain fading. That's when I finally pieced together what Cali actually was.
A baby Kraken, and an adorable one at that!
I grabbed my phone to inform my friends of this exciting news, but then I realized it was 1 AM. After checking to make sure Cali was comfy in their tub, I lurched over to my bed and passed out before my head hit the pillow.
When I woke up, I walked into the bathroom to see that Cali was gone! A track of slime trailed from the bathtub up the wall to a broken window. They'd escaped.
While at first this was quite saddening— I'd lost a new friend— I realized that they're likely out there right now, sinking real boats as I type this! Plus, I still have a picture to remember them by.
Godspeed, Cali!

amkitty 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:45:48 #5278846

oh oh oh! ive been waiting for a thread like this!
well… one time, i was outside in the forest next to my house, and i saw a big skinny WENDIGO!
i hid behind a tree and watched it for a little, it looked like it was waiting for something… just when i was about to leave, something else crawled out of the woods:
a furry BIGFOOT! they looked into each others eyes, and i thought they were going to attack each other, but instead, they hugged.
"oh my wendigo, has your hunt gone well?"
"yes bigfoot, i have dinner waiting for you…"
Their voices were angelic, and i continued watching in awe.
"well please, treat me then."
the wendigo smiled and began to make out with bigfoot, passing a rabbit from their mouth to his as if it were a bubble gum kiss.
"good wendigo, now i may have to give you a treat…"
bigfoot pulled wendigo close, slowly tracing its exposed ribs with a soft finger.
"oh bigfoot, you wouldnt!" it blushed.
"but i want you…"
i wish i couldve stayed longer but i got a text from my mom that i had a dentist appointment so instead i left a camera there to monitor them.
the footage was so wonderful when i came back later that night 😳😳😳. if you guys want, maybe i could share it with you…
[USER WAS BANNED FOR THIS POST]

scalyscooter 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:46:24 #5279447

> go into forest
> see two cryptids fucking
> record them and watch the video as porn instead of exposing their existence to the world
ok furry

bismarch 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:48:47 #5279852

This actually reminds me of an experience I had while camping a few years ago. I was out on this hiking trail in the middle of the woods, and I set up my tent.
While I was drifting off to sleep, I heard a deep, pleasant growl outside, like that of an intimidating— yet somewhat playful— man. Suddenly, I felt a strange desire to go find this sound, so I exited through the flaps of the tent.
The cold wind spread goosebumps across my bare skin as I found myself standing face to face with Bigfoot. My stomach felt like it was doing backflips, and my cheeks flushed red.
The hairy Bigfoot was a muscular giant, its chiseled body towering over me as I suddenly felt very, very small. His musky scent wafted into my nose, only attracting me further.
And its eyes, oh its eyes, they sparkled like the stars above itself. It looked down at me and bit its lip nervously— and I realized I was doing the same.
Needless to say, we both slept well in my tent that night.

ruethisday 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:50:12 #52803492

Wait no dude continue please, I need more details, seriously.

🗿 sayfensound 05/04/18 (Wed) 07:53:24 #52834807

Goddamit, this is why we can't have nice things.
You know, amkitty, that Kraken story right above yours gave me some hope. But then you came in here with your shitty fanfic and shattered it all.
Maybe I'll try this megathread another day when you fuckers aren't horny on main or shitposting.
Thread locked, and I'm disappointed in all of you.

Amkitty glared at their ban notice in frustration.
"Well, fine! If they're just gonna make jokes and then ban me, they're not the community I'm looking for anyways. Bah!"
They slammed their laptop closed and stood, wading through their mountain-high piles of old CDs, cardboard boxes, molding leftovers, and cassette tapes, making their way to their living room's television.
Kneeling, they scanned the shelves of DVDs and removed one in particular— A CD labelled "Wendigo + Bigfoot Hot Nasty."
They inserted it into the DVD player and plopped into their couch, hitting the 'play' button on their plastic grey remote.
"How's this for a fanfic?" Amkitty muttered smugly to themselves, knowing that the unbelieving members of Parawatch would never see the… rather exciting film on display before themselves. "Mmm, Oh my God… This is never gonna get old…"


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Station 395
Image: Source
This article was a photo I found, which I have wanted to write something about for ages, since I found it. I always wanted to do a creepypasta, but never knew what way to take it until Parawatch popped up a few days ago. Unfortunately, that photo is Non-Commercial licensed, so I couldn't use it. A conversation with T Rutherford helped guide the conception of this, and gave me some excellent ideas on how to finish it.
An article for the new and surging Parawatch Group of Interest.
Thanks to my reviewers: T Rutherford, Ellie3, Crashington, and Ihp who all helped this article get to it's current form.
View more of my articles here.

by stormbreath

lonesome-wanderer 04/23/15 (Thu) 20:53:32 #73839164

The gas station I saw.

I work as a professional courier in California. As a part of that, I do a lot of driving up and down, and often I'm on backroads, far away from the rest of the highway system. Most of the time, I'm the only person on the road, especially since I like to drive at night: I've always been a night owl.
So last week, I was driving back on one of those midnight drives when I saw a light in the distance. As I drove closer, there's a gas station off to the side of the street, with a convenience store and everything. But it was about 2 AM — there's nobody driving out here, especially not this late. The lights shouldn't have been on.
I did need gas, so I pulled off to the side despite my best instincts. I could probably have made it to the next station, but I didn't want to risk it that (this?) far from civilization. The gas station itself was larger than it had any right to be, with a general store that looked like it had a few outdoor seats. As if they could ever get the numbers for that.
Got the photo pulling in. Felt like I was going to have to start a thread here, and didn't want to be caught with my pants down.
The card reader on the pumps wasn't working, so I went in with cash. As I walked towards the front door, chills ran down my spine. I can't explain, but it felt like the air temperature dropped ten degrees immediately. The inside of the general store was freezing, cold as all hell.
The man at the counter was wide awake when I came in. He shouted at me, asking for how much gas I wanted as soon as I walked in. I paid him for the gas, and then told him I was going to wander around the store for a bit. Had to get some snacks for the road — I hadn't eaten for a few hours, and a gas station hot dog was beginning to seem a lot better than normal.
As I was trying to pick out what bag of chips to get, a screaming started. It sounded like it was coming from out behind the gas station. I couldn't make out what it was. I've always heard that foxes and coyotes sound like they have humans screams, but this wasn't anything like that. It was like a screech, totally inhuman.
The gas station attendant stood up and shouted at me to stay where I was. I was paralyzed with fear, and wouldn't have done anything different even if he hadn't asked. He turned and went out the back door, leaving me alone in the store. The howling lasted for almost two minutes, I think, and the attendant walked back in soon after.
That's when I realized I wanted to get out, as soon as possible. There was something weird here, and I didn't feel safe anymore. I went up with the closest bag of chips to me — I hadn't actually picked one out, and I had been distracted by the screaming. The attendant barely said a word as he checked me out, and I went to get the gas.
The air outside the station was even colder than it had been when I walked in. But as I stepped outside, I could hear the howling, fainter than it had been inside the store. I took a quick look around the back, and there was a small shack in the back, with a locked chain over the door.
The door was banging. Something was inside, slamming against the wall.
I didn't want to stay any longer than I had to. I'd already paid, so I ran back to my car, pumped the gas (keeping an eye over my shoulder the whole time), and then drove off as fast as possible.
The station is at somewhere a little ways off 395, I think. I don't remember where exactly, and I didn't get a name — there might not have been one?

limpfirebird 04/23/15 (Thu) 21:05:56 #87301432

Doesn't seem like much of anything to me. There's barely anything paranormal happening here, just a couple of weird events that all happened at once. I'm sure there's a logical explanation to all of it.
The gas station probably just gets enough late-night traffic on the road to stay open. Sounds like it's in the middle of nowhere, and there might be a nearby community or something you don't know about. Or that road you were taking is more even more active than you thought, or it was just a slow night.
The cold was probably just a trick of the mind. You were warm in the car, and you sound like you were already paranoid at that point, so you were looking for more things to be suspicious of. The cold from the store carried outside when you left, and you thought the air was colder on the second time. All that together led to you thinking something spooky was going on with the temperature.
As for the shack and the screaming, that is the scariest thing of what you described. But I think it was probably just a mistake — could have been a machine or something in the shack, and you just imagined the thumping on the door. Or it could have been a dog or something.

lonesome-wanderer 04/23/15 (Thu) 22:48:09 #73806555

I guess so. I've been on these forums for a while, and I've been wanting to find something myself, guess I was seeing signs where there wasn't much of anything. There probably isn't anything strange about that station. All of your explanations do make sense.
The screaming still bothers me: I haven't been able to forget it over the past few days. No way did a dog make it. And it was loud - had to be something huge.
I'm worried it could've been a person. Didn't sound like it, but…
You never know, do you?

ellie4 04/24/15 (Fri) 12:36:44 #91938461

I looked into finding the station that lonesome-wanderer visited, and one that matches the photo he posted actually showed up in the news a few days ago. The details are sparse, but there was a murder-suicide at the station just a few days ago. Even if lonesome didn't find something paranormal, it seems he had a near-miss brush with death.
The victim was making a 911 call at the time of the murder. The transcript is short, but it's pretty weird:

Dispatch: 911, what is your emergency?
Victim: I'm at a gas station on 395, thirty minutes from Exit 51, and there's a thing outside my car! I, uh, don't don't know what it is, but it's big. Big and angry.
Dispatch: Is it threatening you?
Victim: It's trying to get in. Please, please send somebody.
Dispatch: Can you identify it?
Victim: No, it really doesn't look like anything on - anything I've ever seen, it's getting some liquid all over my windows, I don't know what to do!
Dispatch: We've found your location, we're going to be sending help.
Victim: Oh, the station attendant is coming out! He's got a rifle, he's raising it…
Dispatch: Police have been dispatched.
Gunshot.
Dispatch: Did he kill it?
Dispatch: Hello?

Between that call and the police showing up, the attendant apparently set the shack in the back on fire, and then shot himself outside the front door of the gas station. The police couldn't find any reason why he would have suddenly gone slasher villain on a customer and then set fire to the shack. The owners couldn't say why either, and allegedly didn't even know he had a gun.
At the end of the day, they just chalked it up to somebody having a sudden and inexplicable psychological break.
But there is one last detail I found in the police report, that didn't get mentioned anywhere else: a trail of hoofprints and petroleum leading away from the ruined shack, around and onto the car, and then onto the road itself.