Daytona yellow plasti dip

Cover Art <<Previous Start Next >>
Copying their original shape and color for now, Mordecai started his forest with the mushrooms that had a single stalk and cap. Or rather, that showed above ground that way, all mushrooms were merely the ‘fruit’ of the actual fungus. They wouldn’t entirely behave that way when he was done, but the main body would always be below the ground.
The very tallest ones were thin with narrow, pointy caps, while each successive tier of shorter mushroom had wider caps and thicker stalks. The very shortest, broadest of these had a clearance of about 10 feet between the ground and the bottom of the cap. Once he had enough for a thick canopy, Mordecai switched to the mushrooms with more interesting designs.
Some grew in small, tightly packed clumps, others spread out in branching layers. Over here was a cluster that looked like horns, while another one looked almost like a piece of coral or a brain. And there were so many colors to go with the endless variety of shapes; bright oranges, vivid reds, and even the occasional delicate blue. It was rather beautiful he had to admit. But he wasn’t done.
Now that he had a common layer done, he started adding rarer ones. In one area he added some mushrooms that ‘bled’ a crimson fluid out of its cap as well as a beautiful pink-capped mushroom that ‘bled’ a pale yellow fluid from its white stalk. While the first was completely inedible as the fluid was an anti-coagulant, the second one was merely bitter, and someone with the right knowledge could tell the difference, and possibly make a weapon coating to increase the bleeding of cut and pierced foes. Keeping in theme with the forest, they were 1 to 2 feet tall, much larger than their normal variations.
And that was one thing Mordecai was being very careful of, any mushroom that was an upscaled version of a normal mushroom would have the same properties. So he continued creating clusters of various normal mushroom varieties until there were only a few types he hadn’t placed. Those were going to be the base for some of his more creative work, and he wanted them to be a bit more obvious that they weren’t the same as the normal mushrooms. At least, if you knew what a normal one was supposed to look like.
But before that, it was time to work in a bit of precaution. While most druids were better with plants and animals than they were with fungi, some specialized in fungi, and he’d already been served up his reminder about druids. So he drew on the living crystal that they had created for flowers and incorporated it into this level as well. As the theme here was mushrooms, he used the living crystal concept to create new mushrooms. These were tiny buds that liked to nestle amongst other mushrooms, and their mycelium wove between and intertwined with the mycelium of the other mushrooms. Their crystalline nature would resist most attempts at controlling them through normal nature magic, while their living aspect resisted elemental control.
The top layer of soil was almost a veneer, more than a foot down and one would find a thick matting of mycelium, and this structure wove its way even deeper, to the crystalline sheathing he and Kazue had started integrating into all of the dungeon’s outer structure.
Now it was time to have fun. He’d need to give everything a less lethal mode, but he was going to start with the deadly version to make the design feel right. Puff balls were a good start, these he enhanced to make their spores more aggressive and faster to grow, making exposure dangerous and inhalation worse. Then he added variety, imbuing some with a stronger version of a stink horn's odor. While not particularly dangerous, direct exposure can be overwhelming and leave one sickened and retching as they tried to recover. It left people vulnerable while making noise that might draw unwanted attention. He also made sure that these spores, but not the puffball itself, were sticky and luminescent to visibly mark the victim as well.
Now, the stinkhorns brought up another idea. Many varieties had netting which was used to spread their scent. They didn’t act like traps, but they looked like they could be actual nets. So he was going to make some that were. The first step was to alter the secretion to be a subtle, attractive scent that would lure people closer even if they didn’t realize they were smelling it. And instead of having the netting just grow, it stayed rolled up until something was close enough to trigger it, not unlike a puffball’s explosive action. The netting was coated in the sweet-scented secretion, which was also sticky, acidic, and contained a digestive enzyme. The combination was designed to entangle prey and keep it trapped while it was dissolved, and in such concentration the sweet scent proved to also be a soporific, dulling the mind and potentially sending the prey to sleep.
His next trap mushrooms were more direct in their attack, but didn’t come with a lure. Instead, they grew in spread-out groupings, tightly packed clusters at the tip of foot-long stalks that could hide among other mushrooms. They had a basic motion sensor trigger, and the groups were always all the same organism. When movement happened close enough to trigger three or more stalks at the same time, every triggered stalk’s tip exploded with tethered, razor-sharp darts, whose edges were hardened by living crystal. The darts were coated with a paralytic neurotoxin, and when they hit home would inject even more. The outer coating ensured that even a glancing blow to the flesh would at least deliver some of the toxins and hopefully slow the prey down enough to get caught.
The tethers were simple strands, designed to act like harpoon lines and give the toxin time to take effect. There were no digestive enzymes here, the goal was simply to down the prey and let it decompose in place, enriching the soil. The tethers dropped off the stalks about 10 minutes after the darts were fired, the prey was either disabled or free by then, and the stalks could start regenerating a new set of darts.
Mordecai moved on to creating his final active hazard. He created a new type of mushroom tree to populate the forest, about 12 feet tall and with a wide, thin cap whose underside glowed with a soft violet light. Most of them were actually perfectly safe, and the light actually promoted quicker healing for most creatures, but a small percentage of them were actually a look-alike species, differentiated from a distance only by a subtle change in the color of its light.
This light created a soothing effect, but it was designed to slow and distract creatures rather than promote healing. This left them more vulnerable when tendrils unfurled from the cap to lash about, wrapping around anything unfortunate enough to be hit by them. The tendrils didn’t stop whipping about when they caught something, the violent motion shaking its prey hard enough to potentially snap necks, limbs, or spines, depending on what portion of a creature had been grabbed. The violent motion lasted for about a minute before the tendrils came to a stop. It took about 20 more minutes for them to retract into the gills of the cap, carrying any prey into the mushroom’s flesh where it could be properly digested.
With the hazards finished, and one of them giving off light, it seemed like a good time to work on more lighting. There was a type of mushroom that grew out from vertical surfaces, dipping down and curving up before forming its cap. This made it look a bit like a wall-mounted lantern, and Mordecai ran with that idea. The first variants he spawned near the waterfalls and the springs near surfaces that let them hang out over the water. After making sure they were adjusted to only want very wet or humid environments, he gave them luminescence in a variety of orange, red, and goldish yellow colors, then made them prolific spore producers, with the spores glowing in the same colors. The spores were about neutrally buoyant to water, with a bit of variation to ensure the glowing spores spread out to different levels in the streams. The visual effect was somewhere between that of water reflecting fire and the molten glow of lava. It did not compliment the violet glow coming from some of the mushroom trees at all.
The spores would also get brought to the edge of the water, deposited by various ripples and splashes, making it hard to see exactly where the edge of the water was. This wasn’t helped by the spores finding niches to grow more of the little lantern mushrooms, leaving all the waterways a confusing haze. The spores and mushrooms were all perfectly harmless and reasonably nutritious, so the streams could be used as a water source without worrying about poison at least.
And for a third light source, Mordecai used the same style of lantern mushrooms but made these ones not like humidity as much, and also adverse to direct violet illumination from the mushroom trees that glowed. These glowed a sickly greenish color, and could grow on almost any vertical surface but did not like growing in high concentration. This left their glow diffuse and unreliable as a light source.
None of these three colors worked well together, and were never in enough concentration to combine evenly into a roughly white illumination. The waterways were the only consistent illumination available naturally, but that would also leave one’s outline visible against the glowing water. The other choice was to make one’s way through the patchy light and shadow of the forest.
Of course, one could produce one’s own light source of a proper white and easily wash out the effects of these other colors, but such glow would also be quite noticeable to anyone close enough. Most of the time there would at least not be a direct line of sight to make a light source visible to anyone too far away.
Overall it was rather disorienting for most types of vision and forced adventurers into making trade-off decisions about light and visibility as they prepared to contest the dangers of the level.
Once he was satisfied that the environment was well set, it was time to start modifying some inhabitants, and he had quite a few ideas he was eager to try out. There were some serpentine variants of draconic body shapes he had plans for.
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Also to be found on Royal Road.
$3 Patreon: Early chapters, lore excerpts $5 Patreon: Short Stories $10 Patreon: New stories not published anywhere else (Until after I finish this story at least)

To start, it should be noted that I am a beginner at lock picking. I'm currently picking yellow and orange locks, badly. I got into lockpicking as a means to work on some puzzle challenges while watching TV and so I can train my sense of touch since I'm also a woodworker by trade. I recently had a bit of extra money to blow on a new hobby, so I bought way too many picks from a variety of major suppliers. I collect tools of nearly all variety, so while I am new to picking I am not new to comparing quality and cost of tools, so this review will reflect those considerations more than anything. I have come to my own conclusion that I'm sure many here wont agree with. If you're somebody looking for internet advice on what to buy, take what I say with a grain of salt, as these are just my own opinions.
https://imgur.com/a/hFgk8bK
Sparrows My first purchase was based on the often copy pasta'd recommendation post made by jonlockpicking with three other picks that I was interested in trying.
Pros: Huge selection of specialty tools, reasonably priced, quick shipping
Cons: Handle dipping is excessive at times, metal stock width isn't consistent so handles are different sized, no labeling of what the pick is, so it can be confusing to a beginner as to what hook they are using.
Total Spent: $86
My thoughts: I think if you only ever bought picks from Sparrows you'd have a perfectly functional set of picks. They are a great value at the $4ish range per pick. It's also the candy store of lockpicking. They offer a dizzying array of specialty shapes that one could easily get lost in and build a large shopping cart. The tools are well made and have a finish that would be a reasonable expectation for the price point.
Peterson I bought Petersons because so many here recommended them. They supposedly use some unobtanium steel, they must be great, right? They are double the price of other brands, so you must be getting a better product, right? Ugg...so disappointing.
Pros: Steel used does seem to have marginally better strength and feedback than what Sparrows uses.
Cons: Absolutely the worst consistency of the bunch. Sharp edges, tools need to be filed / cleaned / polished, poor / inconsistent stamping, handle flashing, handles are loud when they rub together, handle labels placed at random so hooks all pointing one way in a case will bother those with OCD, COST.
Total Spent: $130
My thoughts: This is my buyers remorse section. I know Peterson picks are popular around here, and I will again remind anybody reading this that I am a beginner, but this order was incredibly disappointing. The prybars, in my opinion, were straight garbage. Sparrows bars appear to be superior in every way, and at a reasonable price. For $50 I expected a lot more than the poorly manufactured bits of metal scrap I was delivered. In that vein, if a manufacturer is going to sell a tool at double the price of their competitors (as their picks are priced), there should be value in that pricing. Tools should have higher QC tolerances, better finish, and more personal touches. They shouldn't come with flashing issues or poor stamping. It should be a tool ready to use out of the box. None of that happened here.
They say they use a crazy special steel that is very expensive. It's 420 stainless. You probably buy it to exact thickness on Grainger's website. Be proud to use quality materials, but don't sell it as something more than it is.
I honestly would have returned the lot had I not read posts online about how crappy their customer service is. My life blew up this year with family loss / illnesses / what not so I just didn't have the energy to even try with somebody who has a history of being rude to those seeking help. To be fair, I should have given the vendor a chance to make it right, but given their reputation I chalked it up to a loss. I will happily trade the Peterson tools to somebody who does like them for locks that will challenge me in the future.
Jimylong's I ordered these the day before the Peterson's arrived. I saw a reddit post recommending them. They were cheap, an interesting design, and apparently were community tested. For $20 for a pack of four picks, it was worth a try. I bought a set of .23 round tips. The next day, after getting the Peterson picks and realizing I didn't like them, I ordered the remaining 3 sets Jimylong offered to give them a try. Had I ordered both at the same time, and used the discount code I found on both orders instead of just one, I would have paid even less than I did.
Pros: Handles have great grip, steel used is good quality and has great feedback, great customer service, great price
Cons: Handles are too wide for most cases
Total Spent: $78 (Technically could have been less than $70 at the time.)
My thoughts: FULL DISCLOSURE - After my second order I sent an email to Jimylong saying that I ordered twice in less than a day so if he hadn't shipped anything yet he should feel free to send them both in the same package and pocket the extra shipping for a beer. He's a small business, it was my "mistake" so I wanted to make it easy if I could. I also had asked if he planned on releasing any more gem shapes soon. He said he was fixing an issue with the diamond shape that he didn't like so he didn't have any with the new handles but he'd send me one from an older version to try out. He ended up sending a gem in two sizes and a diamond in two sizes free of charge to me. I tried very hard not to let this sway my review. That said, Jimylong's were easily the best picks in the bunch and I'm about to gush about them so I thought you should know that he did hook me up with some great tools.
Seriously, if you don't have any yet, buy some Jimylongs. Great to hold, great feedback, and they are no more expensive than anything Sparrows offers. My only concern is that since he makes these because he's passionate about lockpicking and not trying to make a business out of it he might eventually have more success than he cares to have. I'd get these while the gettin' is good.
If I could get them with slightly slimmer handles so they fit in most cases, I would. But I can come up with other options for that. I do love the material he used as it doesn't seem to hinder feedback, and they also don't sound terribly scratchy or loud when the handles rub together.
I love how he labels the picks so you know what you're using. As a beginner it's hard to tell what sort of hook I'm using since they often look very similar. This is a really nice touch. Had Peterson's stamping been on point I would have given them credit for this as well, but I didn't even realize they had markings on them until I started taking close up pictures.
While his selection is minimal, the value to price comparison is a slam dunk with Jimylong's.
If I could give earlier self (or any other beginner) advice on what to buy knowing what I know now: Buy two four packs of picks from Jimylong. One in rounds, one in flats. That will let you figure out if you prefer round or flat picks, and leave you with a set of 4 great picks you'll use, and 4 you might use later or could sell / give away / trade. It's tempting to buy all the picks thinking you need them, but really it would help to become at least minimally proficient with a few shapes first so you actually have an idea of what specialty shapes you might want later.
From Sparrows buy a set of knurled flatbars, heavy bars, and maybe the SSDEV set if you want to try some other highly recommend hook shapes. If you're not willing to dissect an old windshield wiper for some bottom of keyway tensioners, buy a cheap set of those too.
Get 4-5 locks spread across the white / yellow / orange belt range to start practice on to get an idea if this is something you want to continue with. You'll have a quality set of tools to build upon if you like the hobby, and you wont have spent a fortune trying to test it out if you find that it's just not your thing.
I hope this has helped or been interesting.

Gold spot price chart showing steady growth amidst global uncertainty. The yellow metal has maintained a bullish trend, gaining value steadily over the past months. Investors seek refuge in gold as traditional markets face volatility. Geopolitical tensions and inflation concerns contribute to the metal's allure. The chart displays a clear upward trajectory, with periodic small dips that quickly rebound. It's an opportune time for gold enthusiasts and investors to capitalize on this upward momentum. With gold's historical resilience and potential as a hedge against economic uncertainty, it remains a reliable asset for diversification and long-term wealth preservation. Stay tuned as the market continues to unfold, potentially reaching new highs.

I am asking for opinions.
I have a newer model that still has chrome trim. I know I want to have black trim instead but I cannot decide on which method to use.
Plasti-dip or Vinyl wrap
Which is best and for what reasons???
Any opinion is much appreciated.

https://youtu.be/Esu__LAsA68

 'The cliff side near Throsian Castle has always had the best view…' the man named Thoust thought. He looks over the large castle and the town around it. He lightly touches the worn down jester's mask one of two items he still has from when he was alive. He glances at the second. A small locket with a picture of him in his old harlequin garb face painted in black inks in a fantastical pattern and beside him a happy elven woman with black hair with small streaks of red at the end of them with striking pale blue eyes. He looks at it with a soft smile till some of the memories he has start to resurface. 'shes mine you understand?! Betrothed to be by the elven king himself! And you won't get in the way!' a fading image of an arrogant baron in his mind as his chest began to burn again. A thin saber through the heart. He remembers her face. Full of fear and sadness. The pain grows remembering the twist of the blade. He shakes the thought away, As he doesn't want to dip back into undead madness. "Here again Thoust?" Mishrik voice says behind him but not his usual arrogant prideful tone. He glances to see the demon prince himself with bright golden eyes. "Yes I am…it is my home. And since our deal is done I'm happy to return to it to prepare to weather the storm you intend to create." Thoust says. While closing the locket and returning it to a hidden pocket into his jacket. "I had gotten the feather you needed and uncovered the ruins around the volkite. I'm done." The undead jester says standing. The demons face then becomes hard to read after he says that. "Thoust I cannot allow that. The feather has gone missing after Gavis fell. And I require it or dream worm scales." He mildly says. Slowly approaching Thoust. "And I need this if the Dreamworm eggs slips out of my grasp understand..and I wouldnt want something to happen to Ko…." "You threaten her life …you refuse to let me even see her and now you threaten to kill her!?" Thoust snarls. "It was part of the deal that they both would be unharmed. That's what we agreed on." The demons face turns to more angry. "As you said that deal is over. Now if you want them both to continue to breath then I recommend getting that feather back or else. Fortunately the one you've had your eyes on seems to be apart of the party that has it. Now fetch it…" he says turning around and vanishing. Thoust shakes in both anger and mild sadness. There both in danger again cause of this cursed deal. And there is only one thing he can think of. 

'Lenore…my daughter do not be there...'
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

As the party continues to be jovial in there huts two figures watch from the small tree line. Staying away around 60 feet from the camp. The smaller one giggles. "See aunt Myra. These adventurers are so entertaining. And they seem to join the meeting" she says. Brown hair with almost ember orange highlights. The other alittle taller maybe a few inches but bright yellow and orange hair and bright emerald colored eyes watch the strange pandorin and the ones he's conversating with inside the larger hut. "Very interesting indeed…we don't get this in the south deserts" she giggles. "Hopefully your mother doesn't mind that I took you sight seeing" she says giggling. The other nods smiling. And points to the oni masked man. "He even smells like Aunt Tyra!" The small princess says with a bright smile. "Joda even told me that he knows the customs and even fed him." She says brightly. Myra nods at the excited princess. Though she doesn't know how her other sisters would take visitors. "Myra. When your going to take Lorila at least tell me first" a third woman says having snuck up. Even though she's tall and lanky. Her hair of similar brown color but bright yellow eyes as she stand near a tree. Myra laughs nervously. "S…sorry Dova. She just made me curious. How did the other three take the news of visitors?" Myra asks nervously. "They took it well. Tyra was interested by hearing a pandorin is in the group" she says with a light chuckle. 

I moved to a new place a few weeks ago and brought along my cherry shrimp, upgrading from a 20gallon to a 29gallon. I had probably close to 80-100 shrimp in the old tank and they seemed to do well in the new tank except I've seen them dying off of failed molts more and more often and despite there being lots of berries shrimp I'm not really seeing any babies. I just fished out a couple dead ones and am at the point where I feel like it's got to be more than age affecting them.
Parameters are as follows:
Temp: 76F
Ammonia: .25ppm (I'm assuming a small spike from the dead shrimp and/or plants melting back)
Nitrites: 0ppm
Nitrates: <5ppm
pH: 7.5
Hardness: it took six drops for the API test to turn from blue to yellow. I have a really hard time making heads or tails of the test but the chart says that is 6dKH or 107.4GH/KH. it doesn't have units for some reason. (The KH vs dKH vs GH really really confuse me so if appreciate any light that can be shed on this specific test).
Only tank mates right now are 6 ember tetras. I did add new plants which had a bleech dip, rinsed, and then stuck in a bunch of dechlorinator for several hours before being added. While most of my plants are thriving and growing fast my java moss has turned brown and died back if that helps troubleshoot.
I have a cuttlebone the LFS gave me for a calcium source and feed hikari algae wafers and shrimp cuisine. (The tetras get micro pellets and bug bites which the shrimp also scavenge)
Edit: quick formatting edit to make it easier to read

Hey there, readers! Here's chapter five for your reading pleasure! Please consider leaving a comment or review as those really do just pick me right up!
I've Been Reincarnated as a Bunny Girl?! (Chapter 5)
by
ShadowDragon88
A fine drizzle was coming down on the town of Starlight Rose. A familiar wolf-kin beasta in red robes that appeared to be shimmering despite the cloudy gloom of the day was walking along the main road. In his right hand, he held a long polished oak staff, topped with a red glowing gemstone the size of his fist. In his left hand, held away from his body, was a tan leather satchel, the drawstring tied in a knot. It appeared full, and seemed to shudder and wriggle. Felixin smiled and nodded to passing villagers.
​
"Hey there, Felixin," came the rumbling voice of Earl Shatterknuckle. The blonde dwarf, presently wearing just simple brown leather trousers, fell in step beside his taller friend. Felixin looked down at the dwarf, whose smaller frame was bulging with muscles, with blue and gold glowing tattoos tracing intricate spider-web-like symbols across his chest and arms, smiling back.
​
"Good day to you, Earl," the wolf said. There was a spitting-chittering sound coming from the bag, making Felixin pause and frown before giving the satchel a good whack with his magical staff. "Quiet, you!" he hissed at it.
​
"Caught yourself another evil spirit, eh?" Earl said with a smirk.
​
"Oh yes, and this one was quite the nasty piece of work. I'm on my way back to my lab to properly dispose of it. I think it's from some destroyed remnant of Eld technology, one of the ones that gained sentience, or at least some spiritual semblance to it," Felixin said as he gave the bag another whack when it started to make some electronic beeping sounds.
​
"Oh?" Earl asked, curious. "I remember more than once we had some nasty run-ins with Eld-tech back when we were adventurers."
​
"I remember you and Melthi being the ones to turn the blasted machines on, both times when cautioned not to," Felixin said pointedly, making the dwarf chuckle.
​
"What can I say? We're both curious by nature!"
​
"Yes, that's one word for it," Felixin said with a smile, remembering his adventuring days and the party of friends he would regularly travel with. "Anyways. For some reason, about six years ago, they suddenly became much more prevalent. Thankfully, their numbers have been dropping back down over the years."
​
"What makes you think this one is from Eld tech?"
​
"It kept saying 'Does not compute!' over and over again, while also identifying some kind of rabbit threat." Felixin's mood seemed to shift and his ears laid back on his head, while his tail dipped, almost long enough to drag on the ground behind him. "And when it mentioned rabbits, it made me think of my little princess."
​
Earl rolled his eyes as he reached up and clapped the town wizard on the back. "Ah, Kiana'll be back to visit before you know it."
​
"I know... it's just, one minute she was this little delicate baby girl, and the next minute, she was this amazing young woman, all ready to up and go out."
​
"Didn't Kiana kick down a couple of brick walls when she was a baby?" Earl asked, scratching his head. Felixin waved a dismissive paw at that.
​
"Pure coincidences. Those walls were clearly unsound and improperly constructed, so much so that when she was having one of her tantrums just a little punch or kick was enough to send them tumbling down. We're lucky she wasn't hurt or scared, just confused and curious more than anything. Anyways, I just get so worried when I think of her, out there on the open road. Just so... vulnerable. Thankfully I made sure to instill in her a proper sense of caution." Earl snorted at that.
​
Meanwhile...
​
Kiana let out a roar of fury as her trusted tetsubo connected with the raised steel shield of the bandit before her. The metal dented and warped just as the bandit, shield and all, became airborne. They traveled in an arc straight towards a stone tower connected to an old run-down fort the bandits had holed up in. The screaming man smashed into the top of the tower, crumbling it, his screams instantly going silent.
​
"Fire!" Kiana heard a deep voice shout. There were several blasts and, thanks to Kiana's speed, she watched as five cannonballs headed in her direction. To the ordinary person, the black metallic spheres were probably nearly impossible to follow. To Kiana, it looked as though they were moving incredibly slow. She simply stepped aside from four of them, letting them explode into the nearby hillside. As the fifth one hurtled her way, she crouched slightly, raising her tetsubo like a baseball bat. She swung and smacked the cannonball, her tetsubo making a loud DING, and sent it flying right back where it had come from. The two bandits manning the cannon were obliterated along with the weapon itself, as well as a good chunk of the fort wall.
​
"She's some kind of demon!" one of the bandits cried. The man, really more of a boy, no older than Kiana, leapt down from the fort wall onto a carriage they had recently stolen from some traveling aristocrats. He then leapt onto the ground and sprinted out into the forest, stripping off the black cloak with the red eye in the center.
​
"DAMMIT!" the bandit leader cursed, pulling off his tricorn hat and dabbing his bald sweaty head with a handkerchief. While the remaining men were busy barring the windows or reloading and firing the cannons, he was gnashing his teeth. After a moment's hesitation, he pointed to a nearby subordinate. "You! Follow me. We'll unleash the troll on her."
​
The other bandit paled, audibly gulping. "Th-the troll? Are you sure th-that's wise?" Just as he finished asking that, another cannonball destroyed another cannon, making the entire structure shudder.
​
"We don't have any other options. Hopefully, after it kills her, it'll be injured enough for us to finish it off... or the other way around if she kills it." The other bandit grimaced at the options laid before them, but nodded solemnly. Outside, Kiana smacked another cannonball back at the cannon that fired it, being careful not to send it flying towards the base of the tower. According to one of the kidnapped merchants that had managed to escape and make it all the way to town, the cells where the bandits were holding their ransom victims were all on the ground floor. Kiana stopped when she heard a loud guttural roar, followed by a rapid series of loud BOOMs. Bandits ran by the windows and open holes of the fort, while the front gate slowly opened.
​
Out stumbled a massive creature. Its flesh was a dark brown, and had a texture not unlike tree bark. Its long arms and legs were thicker than the old oak trees in the forest near Starlight Rose. Its gnarled hands, with thick thorn-like protrusions sticking from the knuckles, balled into fists, fists that were as big as Kiana was tall. Its barrel-chest heaved, with white criss-crossing scars in its bark-flesh. It didn't have much in the way of a neck, and its head looked just like a tree stump, complete with root-like tendrils wriggling back and forth. It's mouth was partially concealed by the tendrils, until it reared back and opened its gaping maw, revealing rows of broken yellow teeth, to let out a bellow that shook the ground. From the top of its head grew two slightly spiraling branch-like horns.
​
"These idiots somehow managed to get a forest troll?" Kiana asked out loud, a smirk appearing on her face. "And this was only a gold-ranked quest? Something tells me I'm in for a sweet bonus."
​
The beast stopped as its knot-like eyes, of which there were at least seven, caught sight of the bunny girl. Up above from the second story windows and holes and from on the roof, the remaining bandits, many of them injured, looked down. Most were smirking, some of the more foolish ones shouted out taunts. The bandit leader stood there, looking grim-faced, but taking some satisfaction in knowing that despite their losses today, the annoying source of their problems was about to end, one way or another.
​
Kiana stuck the end of her tetsubo into the dirt, large and surprisingly quick thudding steps shaking the ground. The beast was lumbering towards Kiana, who didn't look the least bit afraid. While not intelligent enough to be truly sentient, the troll did have enough sense to know that its prey should be running. And the fact that it was just calmly standing there, staring at it, only angered it further. With a final roar, the forest troll charged forward. It balled up a massive fist, and swung straight for Kiana. Kiana swung her own fist, the two colliding.
​
There was a very loud, sickening crunch and pop. The bandits looked down in shock and horror as where the now screaming troll's fist and forearm had been, there was a bloody and jagged stump that ended just above the right elbow. The troll screeched and lunged at Kiana, hoping to impale her on its horns. But the bunny girl simply kicked, knocking the head clean off the rest of its body. The head bounced off a tree and rolled for a bit, settling in the dirt, a look of surprise on the stump-like face. The rest of the body tumbled over three times before coming to a rest near the make-shift stables, where the carriages and horses of the abducted nobles were kept. Kiana looked back up at the fort, making the majority of the bandits shrink back and shudder. A few of them began to wave white tablecloths hastily tied to sticks and tree branches.
​
A short time later the bandits, now in shackles, were being marched to the mechanical cart as the local sheriff and his deputies led them. Except for the severely injured ones, who were shackled to stretchers and loaded up into a seperate mechanical carriage. Kiana looked on as bodies were checked for possible survivors, there being very few to find, as the merchants and a few nobles were led by deputies out from the fort. Kiana smiled at them and nodded to their looks of awe, some of them having gotten a good look at the show of force the petite bunny girl had demonstrated. Ignoring the ones who shrank back away from her in fright, Kiana spotted the sheriff, a large older man in his mid-fifties with salt and pepper close-cropped hair and a matching mustache. He was wearing the classic green cloak, directing his deputies. He turned to face her as she approached.
​
"I think that's all cleared up," Kiana said, her voice chipper, belaying the fact she had a smattering of blood and gore staining her fur.
​
"I'd have to agree with you, young lady," Sheriff Tonsol said, his voice even. In truth, he had tried to avoid enlisting the aid of any adventurers until pressure from various merchants and nobility forced his hand. And even then he had expected it to involve a large party and, more than likely, some lives lost from the hostages. He was a little surprised when the girl reached into her satchel to produce a clipboard with a form on it, as well as an ink pen.
​
"In that case, would you mind signing this form indicating that I completed the job satisfactorily?" Tonsol looked at the form for a minute, and then his mouth curved upwards. He let out a chuckle and signed his name on the indicated line, writing in the date as well.
​
"Satisfactorily is putting it lightly, miss," he said, handing the clipboard and pen back to the bunny girl. "I had no idea that they had a forest troll in their possession. I went ahead and bumped up the reward."
​
"Oh wow, thank you, sir!" Kiana said, looking excited.
​
Tonsol smiled, something his deputies claimed to be a rare sight to behold. "Well, you earned it. I'm just glad you were able to get them to surrender without harming any hostages. Well, without them harming any more than the ones they did last time someone came out here to free them."
​
"I'm glad I could help!" Kiana said, bowing a little. "Now, I'm going to head back into town." She spread her arms wide and indicated to herself. "I'm really in need of a bath at this point."
​
"If you don't mind waiting a minute, you can ride back to town with us. It's faster than walking."
​
"Oh, thanks for the offer, but I'm good." Kiana waved, before jogging back to where she'd left her tetsubo and pack, Mirabelle coiled around it protectively. She grabbed the items up, quickly looking through the travel pack to make sure she still had everything, and nodded to herself, satisfied. She slipped the pack onto her back, then scooped her pet snake into her arms, and started to jog down the road in the direction of the town of Hengecliffe. Picking up speed, she rapidly became a blur, and in just a few seconds she was coming to a sliding stop in front of the town gates, startling a couple of bored-looking guards.
​
She greeted them and let Mirabelle down before they let her inside. They stared at the snake with the big pink ribbon around its neck slithering obediently behind the bunny girl. She stopped off at the local guild hall to drop off the signed paperwork and collect her now even heftier reward. She noticed a few stares in her general direction, and some unhappy grumbling from some fellow adventurers, but otherwise no one said anything.
​
Kiana then headed to the town inn where she still had a room for another night. Thankful again that this world had indoor plumbing, with hot water to boot, Kiana wasted no time in stripping off her gore-coated clothes, which she would wash in the laundry room down the hall, and enjoyed a nice steamy shower. She didn't have to worry about possible intruders, as Mirabelle sat coiled on the bed, ever vigilant.
​
"Today was a good day," Kiana said, stepping out of the shower and drying herself off, a feat that took several minutes with a towel. This left her gray and white fur all fluffed-out, which led to her brushing it out. Kiana had grown accustomed to the care and maintenance of her fur, taking pride in keeping it clean. She then donned her underwear and a cream-colored sundress from her pack, carefully putting her dirty clothes in the laundry sack in her pack. She smiled and stroked Mirabelle's head, the snake letting out a contented purr-like hiss.
​
"I'm going to go out and enjoy the rest of the afternoon in town. You stay here and guard the pack, okay?" she asked, slipping her mithril knuckles into her dress pockets, along with a small money pouch. Mirabelle hissed, thumping her tail on the bed in response, curling up tighter around Kiana's belongings.
​
"Good girl," she praised, before heading out, locking the door behind herself for good measure. Kiana smiled as she stepped out onto the paved sidewalk, carriages passing by on the street. Hengecliffe was much larger than Starlight Rose, with paved streets and even streetlights. Centrally located in a region of plains, it served as a trading hub. Kiana walked along, noticing a few men and women looking her over. Some seemed to do so with distaste, more than likely not enjoying the sight of a beasta. But most seemed to be pleasant people observing a new face.
​
"Well now, if my eyes are not deceiving me, it seems that an angel from the heavens has decided to grace us mere mortals with her presence." Kiana's ears twitched at the sound of the male voice. She paused and turned, looking down an alley, where a man leaning up against the side of a building stood, looking her over. He was wearing brown leather trousers, a white linen shirt, and a belt with a large buckle which, matching the large buckles on his boots, made him look a bit like a pirate. The goatee and the cutlass sheathed at his side were also not helping.
​
"Hello, beautiful," he said, giving Kiana a wink. Kiana rolled her eyes, and moved to keep walking, only to find a squat bald man standing in her way, grinning sinisterly. Kiana checked behind herself and saw another man, a larger one with a completely shaved head, arms crossed with a club under one arm. "Now, how about we all go somewhere more... private," the pirate-looking moron asked, giving Kiana a smug wink.
​
"Wow, you idiots have no idea just how badly you messed up," Kiana said, walking into the alley, the two guys following right behind her. The men chuckled. Passersby stopped when they heard three loud thuds coming from the alley, all of which made the nearby buildings shudder. They saw a bunny beasta girl walking out, brushing some dust off her sundress. She smiled and waved and continued on her way, leaving behind three broken figures. Two were lying in craters in the pavement of the alley, while the third, this one with a cutlass laying at his booted feet, was standing... his head laying all the way back in a hole in the brick wall right behind him.
​
Later that evening...
​
Kiana was sitting just outside the town walls on a hill, watching the stars come out. After sixteen years, it still mystified her to look up at the night sky, and not see any of the old constellations. She smiled as a shooting star streaked its way across the sky. Suddenly, Kiana felt a surge of energy just course through her. Her eyes faintly started to glow with the blue light, and she felt a strange pulsing in her chest. Looking around, she felt a strange magnetic pull coming from the south.
​
Starting as a jog, Kiana soon found herself sprinting outright across the countryside. She ran, as a blur, following the pull, her eyes gradually glowing brighter and brighter, shining with the crackling blue energy. Then, she came to a stop. She stood at the foot of a mountain, itself part of a larger range. Looking up at the mass of rock and ice, she could see broiling clouds up over it, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the rocky and snowy peaks. With one such flash, Kiana saw something move. Something big. Kiana's glowing eyes went wide.
​
"Oh wooooooooow," she said, her jaw hanging open. There were rumbles as the giant coiled mass shifted. Several avalanches were caused by the serpentine body, buried under tons and tons of snow. At the very peak of the mountain, a gargantuan head rose.
​
"Is that a giant... cobra?" Kiana asked under her breath. Indeed, that was what the creature that seemed to dwarf the Spire appeared to be. In the light of the lightning, she saw that its scales were a deep blue, almost purple. There were stripes running down its back, but they were glowing a bright bioluminescent blue. That same glow radiated from the creature's reptilian eyes, and the inside of its hood. The same glowing blue as Kiana's eyes.
​
"What... are you?" Kiana asked, quietly.
​
I can ask the same of you, little one, a deep female voice hissed in Kiana's head. She winced and looked around. She then looked back up at the creature, her veins flooded with adrenaline. There was another flash of lightning, and in that very instant, the creature's head was bent down low, right in front of her. Kiana almost jumped back, but stopped herself. As the snake-entity looked her over with an eye that was twice as tall as she was, Kiana felt a sense of calm overtake her.
​
"Are you... a storm dragon? A real storm dragon?" Kiana asked, reaching out and touching the creature's cheek with her hand. It flicked out a blood red tongue, its mouth curling up a little at the corners.
​
That is something that little ones like to call my kind, she said. Kiana figured right then and there that this was a female.
​
"A monk said that... my spirit is like one of yours," Kiana said, breathlessly.
​
Your soulsong feels similar to one of our kind, little one, she said, turning her head and gently nuzzling the top of Kiana's head, making her ears lay flat. The storm dragon's head was almost as large as the entirety of her hometown.
​
"My... soulsong?" Kiana asked. The monk she had met hadn't said anything about them.
​
The song of your innermost being. It stands out from the loud and noisy cacophony that happens when most little ones gather together in large groups. Yours is beautiful, and a little... fluttery. The dragon gave her a wink. She reared up and opened her mouth. Electricity danced between the dragon's fangs, before she shot out a sonic boom. The raging storm above abated, the clouds dispersing, leaving only a crystal clear night sky for miles and miles around. She then turned and looked down at Kiana. The bunny girl felt the storm dragon's gaze. She felt a radiating warmth coming from her. It reminded Kiana of her mother.
​
It was so nice to meet you, little one. It was quite the pleasant surprise to awaken to. She let out a proud roar, and her body began to undulate. Sections of the mountain range began to crumble as large sections of mountain were crushed and smashed by the body slamming into them. The body of the dragon rose into the air, beginning to gracefully slither about. Levitating there, partially coiled, the sheer size of the storm dragon just boggled the bunny girl's mind.
​
"Will I see you again?" Kiana asked, feeling a little sad. She had just met this beautiful and amazing being, and already they were leaving.
​
Of course, little one, the mental voice in her mind chuckled warmly. I have listened to your beautiful soulsong, and I have shared my soulsong with you.
​
"I... I don't understand what that means," Kiana said, confused.
​
You will, little one, she said, you are still young, but my soulsong has resonated within you. When you stop and listen, it will become easier and easier to hear it. And thus, the bond has begun to form. In time, you shall understand. With a flick of the creature's tail, there was a flash of lightning that radiated from within the hood, and she was gone. Kiana stood there, her eyes readjusting to the dark.
​
"This world is so awesome," she said, a smile on her face, as she began to job back towards town. She figured that if the town gates were closed and locked, she could just jump over the wall.
​
Meanwhile...
​
The lone figure stood in the dark, staring at where the great serpent had been levitating. They were sitting on a log in a small clearing, where they had set up camp. The individual in question was polishing their armor when a gray blur had shot right past them. And then, where it had been heading, the giant serpent, an actual storm dragon, arose. They sat there in stunned silence. They knew right then and there, that it had been a sign from the gods. As they unsheathed their katana, it began to thrum with magical energy, the blade becoming engulfed in bright purple flames.
​
The light of the purple flames illuminated his green face, glinting off his polished tusks. "Soon, the war shall begin," said the orc, sheathing the blade and cutting off its purple light. The same purple light shone from his eyes.
​
Name: Kiana
​
Species: Beasta (Rabbit-Kin)
​
Age: 16
​
Skills: Sibling Wrangler, Babysitter, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Master Martial Arts, Brawling, Heavy Weapon Proficiency, Sarcasm Mastery, Eyerolling Mastery, Beast Taming Level 3
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Class: (Official) Master-Level Dragon Monk: Storm Dragon School, Storm Dragon Hatchling.
​
​
Str: 141
Int: 12
Dex: 140
Cha: 12
Wis: 10
Con: 172
Languages: Common, Draconic
​
Equipment: Adventurer's Pack, Steelwood Tetsubo, Mastercraft Mithril Knuckles (x2), Rope (25 Ft.), Canteen (Full), Road Rations, Spare Clothes, Bedroll, Health Potion (x2), Books (x3)
I really hope that you enjoyed the new chapter! Thank you for reading so far!
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I have SportBrella but the sun is still very strong shining through, would Plasti-dip be flexible enough to also block out the sun completely while at the beach?
I also considered a UV spray but really want to block the sun entirely since I want to limit sun exposure (due to medicine I take) while still being able to be around family during a beach vacation.

So, I'm taking delivery on an '11 Ultra. I'm thinking of blacking out certain trim pieces. (fender trim, tour pack hinges, bag light trim etc) Has anyone plasti-dipped chrome with any success?

When I was nine, I found the woods.
Now, I know that doesn’t seem too impressive at first.
The thing is, I think I was the only one who could see them.
I toddled over after church on Sunday, still wearing the pink bows in my hair and carefully skipping over any patch of earth that wasn’t covered in grass so I wouldn’t stain my Sunday shoes.
There was a large field near where I lived that my mother deemed safe enough for me to play in with all the other neighborhood kids. It wasn’t a playground by any means, just a vast stretch of land that never sprouted anything worth picking. I was alone that Sunday, walking around the dead field until I could barely make out the wavering smudge of my house in the afternoon heat.
I regret it now, but at the time, I decided to slip under the barbed wire fence and run off, hoping to find something pretty. I wanted a sunflower for my hair.
That’s when I found the woods. I didn’t even realize there was anything out there; I lived in the last house on the block, and from there it just stemmed out into that empty field. No one ever mentioned the woods, not even the adults as a warning not to go in.
Obviously, I went in.
The trees were black and gnarly, with thick knobs and protruding roots so overgrown, they reminded me of bony fingers with too many knuckles. Crisp leaves in all shades of brown littered the floor, and I loved the satisfying crackle underneath my Sunday shoes as I explored.
Looking back, I don’t know what it was about the woods, but I was captivated. I was running through the trees, making tremendous leaps over streams, and just playing like the child I was. It felt like I was in another world when I looked up at the canopy of leaves and branches, sunlight glittering through the green.
It felt like minutes, no more than an hour at most, before I noticed the sky was ripe and orange. The sun was setting already.
I sucked on my teeth before sighing. Sundown meant going home. I made my way toward the direction I came in when a wispy breeze fluttered over my body, lifting the lace ends of my dress and sending my hair flying off my shoulders.
I shuddered, but kept walking.
I made it home just as my mother stepped out on to the porch to yell for me.
“Oh, there you are, Faith. Come insi—where is your bow? Little girl, I told you to change before you went playing in the field in your Sunday clothes!”
I reached into my hair and realized she was right, I was missing one of the ribbons meant to be tied around my plaits.
“I wasn’t in the field, I—“
“Hush now, I don’t care for excuses. Go on inside and I’ll run your bath.” She tsked, shoving me inside with a rough hand on my back.
The next morning, I spoke to Jeremy at the bus stop. He was my neighbor.
“Jeremy, why haven’t you ever shown me the woods?” I asked.
“What woods?”
“The woods past the field. Don’t play stupid.”
“I ain’t playing stupid. I never seen no woods, and I lived here twice as long as you. You’re stupid.”
“I am not, Jeremy! The woods are over there,” I pointed past the field. “And I’ll prove it to you after school.”
“Fine, bighead, let’s see.”
The entire day I was antsy. Finally, we sat together on the bus ride home and I knew I would be proven right.
We dumped our backpacks and lunchboxes on my porch and marched through the field. When we got to the fence, he hesitated.
“My momma says not to go past the fence because then she can’t see me.”
“Oh, you chicken, then?”
“Shut up,” he said. He looked back towards the neighborhood before rolling under the fence. I followed, ducking beneath the wire.
I led the way, the same way as I had taken yesterday.
Only this time, I couldn’t find the woods. We must have walked for ten minutes before Jeremy spoke.
“I don’t know why I believed you. You’re just a liar. I knew there wasn’t no woods.”
“There is too! You don’t know nothing.”
“Wasting my time for this… Loony, you are. I’m going home before my momma starts whining.” He turned around and I watched him until he went under the barbed wire fence again.
Where were the woods? It didn’t make sense.
I felt a cold wind wash over me, prickling at my skin. I rubbed at my arms and looked up.
My bow!
It had become undone and was just a pink ribbon gliding through the air. I chased after it, but random bursts of wind kept it out of my reach. I spun in circles and scuffed my shoes and knees as I hurried, my eyes ignoring the ground.
It finally smacked against a tree, and I realized I was at the woods once again. I grabbed my ribbon and shoved it in my skirt pocket, distrustful eyes scanning my surroundings. I could still see the edge of the field, so I hadn’t gone far, but it didn’t make sense. Why weren’t the woods this easy to find with Jeremy?
I raced inside anyway, gleefully crushing hard leaves under my feet. This time, I started kicking together piles of them in a path, jumping from stack to stack and relishing in the experience.
As I peered past the black trunks of the trees, I realized it was sunset. But that couldn’t be true, school had just ended half an hour ago. I hadn’t even had supper yet.
I backed out of the woods and when I blinked, the sun was back up, shining down brightly on me. I went back inside, examining the stark difference in the sky. When I looked to the left, outside the woods and into the open, it was sunshine. When I looked to the right, into the depths of forest, the sun cascaded yellow and orange through the dark, black trunks, just like a sunset.
I went back every day that week, and every day it was the same. It was always sunset in the woods, no matter if I went in the morning or afternoon. It was strange waking up on Saturday mornings and spending hours watching the sun frozen halfway down the horizon.
After about a month of spending nearly every day in the woods, I heard a laugh.
I think it was a laugh.
The sound was a whisper in the air and I could feel it gusting around me.
“Hello?” I called out.
Silence, just for a beat.
A round of giggles came from behind a nearby tree, but I couldn’t identify which one. It sounded like it was surrounding me. It was a guess, but I assumed it was little girl laughter. I had always wanted girl friends, so a spark of excitement shook through me.
“Hey, come on out!”
She didn’t say anything, but I heard footsteps take off and I bolted after them.
There was no path of shoes in the dirt, no overturned leaves being kicked through, nothing but the faint ghost of a breathless laugh.
“This isn’t funny,” I announced with a deep frown, clutching at my aching side.
The laughter stopped immediately.
I sucked in a deep breath.
My shadow was dark, I noticed. Much darker than it had ever been in the woods. The usually orange sky was fading fast, cold navy overtaking warm citrus colors.
“I’m going home,” I said. I don’t know why I did, I just had to let her know. “Play with me tomorrow.”
“Wait,” a girl’s voice.
I spun in a circle, unceremoniously slipping on some of those crisp leaves. I couldn’t see her.
“What?”
“Wanna see something neat?”
“Who are you,” I asked.
“A girl offering you something one last time. Wanna see something neat or not?”
I stood up and patted my skirt, dusting the dirt off.
“Show me.”
A small hand waved from behind a particularly rotten tree. I grinned and chased after the figure, darkness enveloping any discernible features; she was only a shape running ahead of me. Her voice was youthful and she was no taller than me, and I was not a large child.
We giggled in those little girl laughs as we went further and further in the deep thicket. The sunlight was nearly gone, I could barely make out my own feet as I chased after the girl.
“Where we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
I groaned.
“Hush, we’re nearly there.”
I rolled my eyes, but obeyed.
“What’s your name?”
“Nearly there now, Faith.”
I slowly stopped myself, fear ebbing its way into my chest for the first time.
As if she felt my pause, she stood as still as the trees, unwavering in the growing winds. Her dress didn’t even flutter with the breeze like my skirt did.
“Why did you stop,” she asked in a strained voice. “Don’tcha wanna see? See the surprise?”
I took a step back, nearly fumbling over a thick root.
“My mother must want me home by now.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“You don’t know my mother.”
“Oh,” she sighed, her head dipping forward, long hair covering her face. “I know a lot more than you, Faith.”
She started laughing as she turned to face me, the soft sound morphing into an unrecognizable cackle.
It was so dark now, I couldn’t see much else but her. Her skin almost glittered, but there wasn’t any moonlight.
“How do you know my name?”
“You told me. You don’t remember?”
I shook my head, and though she wasn’t looking at me, somehow she saw it.
“Faith Brown. You have a bad memory. I told you I know more than you.”
The whistle of sharp gusts of air pierced my ears, her voice barely floating through the sound. My hands were sticky, cold and sticky.
“What’s your name? You know mine.” I asked again.
“You should go on home. Your mommy is really scared right now.” She said it so matter-of-factly, faint but sure.
I hated her voice, I wanted to hit her. I wanted to reach my fists into her long, ugly hair and pull it out of her face so I could spit in it. Never in my life had I ever felt so much vile, abysmal hatred for someone. It frightened me. Most of my thoughts were on my mother, though, so I didn’t pause to reflect on these realizations for too long.
I took off running in the opposite direction, praying I was heading the right way. I was sprinting like the fastest horse on the track, but somehow her laughter was right on my shoulder, cawing loudly inside my brain.
“Bye bye, Faith! Let’s play tomorrow.”
Again, I felt that prickling feeling of disdain. I nearly turned around and chased after her again, just to pummel her.
Instead, I focused on how the clearing was approaching. I ducked my head and let out a shaky breath of relief when I found myself out in the open.
Slowly, tentatively, I peered back at the woods, fully expecting to see her standing there.
It was so dark, I couldn’t see past the first couple of trees. They guarded the entrance, standing like ghouls with long, grotesque branches like bony fingers outstretched to me.
The walk back to the field was brisk; I was on edge, a growing knot weighing in my stomach that I wouldn’t make it home.
I had never been out so late. There wasn’t a cloud above to block moonlight, but even then, the moon was absent. I had no guide home, so I continued to trek in blackness, hoping I would see the streetlights soon.
I wondered if I would see her again—
A crushing grip yanked my shoulder, spinning me around and sending dirt flying as my shoes scraped the ground.
Large, strong hands shook me, and a white light blinded me. I was gone, I was dying in that moment, my soul fled my body.
“Calm down! I need you to stop screaming, honey. Stop, tell me your name.”
I heard a click and the light was much dimmer. I hadn’t realized I screamed at all.
My eyes adjusted, and I noticed the golden glitter of a badge.
“Faith Brown.”
He sighed, genuine relief in the motion.
“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”
The night passed in a blur. I was holding his hand as we walked through the field. He said several things into the machine on his chest. My street was flashing with red and blue. My mom was smoking a cigarette on the porch. She shouted at me, but I didn’t hear a word until her icy fingers were digging into my arms, clutching me tight against her.
I slept in her bed that night, I think. I didn’t go to school that next Monday. I don’t think I went at all that week.
The next time I felt conscious, grounded back in reality, was when I accidentally pushed the glass of lemonade off the table. Shards went skittering across the kitchen floor, bouncing until they hit the walls.
“Faith!”
“Sorry, mother!” I bent down to start picking up the pieces when my mother grabbed my wrist.
“You dense little girl, don’t touch glass!” She hissed at me before her eyes softened. “Baby girl, it’s dangerous. I’ll clean it up, you — carefully — throw the bag outside. Can you do that?”
I nodded absently.
When my mother wrapped the glass in a towel and secured it in a waste bag, she sent me to the trash cans outside. They were in the backyard.
I hopped down the steps, the feeling of being out of the house already foreign. A breeze nearly made me jump.
Despite the wind being negligible, one of the bins tipped over.
A single brown leaf fell out, gliding through the air and landing right before my feet.
I don’t know how I knew, but it was obvious to me that this lead was from the woods. It fluttered at the ground a bit, the crisp corners pointing past the field, wanting me to follow. It was enticing me, urging me to just obey. I felt a strange pull in my chest, a physical tug that made my shoes scrape against the dirt and inch towards those cursed woods.
I stomped on the leaf, my teeth grinding together as I used my heel to shred it to pieces.
For a while, things seemed to be getting better. The wind didn’t call to me and I stopped having nightmares featuring a black and white figure. The girl. Jeremy even told the older boys to stop teasing me about it all.
I thought it was over.
A month had passed, maybe two. Church had finished and all us neighborhood kids were playing tag in the field. Maybe it was all the others there that made me feel safe enough to go with them.
An older girl from the middle school was it, and I scurried away from her, but I tripped on a long, pointed stick. I skidded to the dirt without an ounce of grace, dust and pebbles digging into my clothes and skin. I picked up the wooden branch and waved it around.
It was like a magnet, zeroing in on one specific direction: directly to the woods. Again, I felt that tug in my bones, my mind blank as I was almost roped in. It felt like my feet weren’t even leaving the ground, just that some unexplainable force was luring me in.
None of the other kids saw me. Or they did and didn’t care. I would rather believe the former.
I blinked.
I was back. I was in there, alone, and the sun was setting fast behind me. Dread coursed through me and I spun around, my grip taut on the stick in my hands. I clutched it to my chest, my heartbeat rising rapidly.
It was getting so dark so fast. It felt as if the blacker it got, the harder it was to breathe. Everything was so, so loud; my ears pounded, my shaky exhales were crashing waves, the rustling trees were windstorms.
The song was excruciating.
I strained my body to focus. The song—this ominous chanting that suddenly began, a crooning chorus of voices was somehow the faintest trace of sound and the most excruciatingly powerful racket possible.
I couldn’t describe it accurately if I tried. The most I could say was that it reminded me of the choir at church, but the emotions it evoked were polar opposites. There was no unified comfort, but an unrelenting hymn, slow and mournful.
With nimble steps, I inched away from the anthem, fearful of the voices stopping at hearing my footsteps.
Bright red lights exploded like fireworks.
I saw them all.
Vaguely, but undeniable. A hoard of people, all just as ghastly white as the first girl, their sinful song louder and closer. Their faces were hidden being long strands of hideous black hair. They all looked the same, a crowd of the same kin.
She stood at the front, closer than all the rest.
The burning in my throat was agonizing, bile threatening to spill out as she lifted her head. Her face, the blankest white I had ever seen, was empty save for two black holes where her eyes should have been, and a carnivorous mouth lined with rows and rows of almost-humanlike teeth.
Her face was flat, no curves or features anywhere but those haunting eyes. They were like craters, dark and empty. Still, I knew they were boring into my soul.
I was petrified. I wanted to run off as fast as I could. I couldn’t do it backwards, but I simply couldn’t look away from the swaying mass of people in front of me. I couldn’t imagine what they would do if I turned around.
I didn’t have time to make a choice on what to do next because she launched into action. She moved like a newborn animal, gangly yet purposeful, and she was heading straight for me.
She couldn’t catch me. That was all I knew.
I bolted, adrenaline carrying me with a strength I’d never have again. I was practically flying through the trees.
They were alive, leaning in and closing the gaps, making it harder for me to dart between them. Their branches scratched and nipped at my face and arms, but I could barely feel it.
“Faith, we need you at the communion!” She screeched behind me, dangerously close.
Her voice was loud, but the song from the crowd was fading. I was getting close to freedom and she knew it.
I heard her pounce and then I was slammed to the ground. Her body was light, but cold enough that where her hands touched me, the skin felt like I was soaking in an ice bath.
I couldn’t breathe, my lungs throbbing inside me. I was beyond afraid, my body acting in autopilot because my mind was mush.
I screamed, a deep, guttural shriek that surprised her. With a swift movement, I stabbed the wooden branch I still held into one of the black craters on her face and she fell back, hissing and howling like a feral creature.
I used the brief moment of distraction to shove the stake in deeper and run. I ran with all my might, the steady pounding in my ears protecting me from whatever curses she screamed after me.
My vision was going dark at the edges, my chest aflame with pricking pain building inside me. I was going down and I knew it, but I could see it then: the edge. With a final burst of speed, I catapulted myself out of the woods and as far as I could get.
I collapsed in the field.
Sometime later, my mother was shaking me to consciousness. I couldn’t move, but I bawled in her arms, scrapes and scratches riddling my body. When they changed me at the hospital, there were deep claw marks on my back.
Within two weeks, we moved. I lost a lot of my childhood. Outside of this period, I can only remember bits and pieces of what should have been joyful times. It took a long time for me to feel safe.
And I did. For a good while, I felt safe. I didn’t think of her or anything that happened for many years, the only reminder my scars on my back and the occasional flash of nightmares.
I was okay.
Until this morning.
My daughter, my darling little girl who gave me hope and a warm feeling of peace just by being near her, was coloring beside me as I finished something on my laptop.
I glanced down to her page and was nine years old again, looking right into the black abyss of two soul-sucking eyes above a sharp, dripping mouth.
“Baby,” I croaked, “baby, who is that?”
“Oh,” my daughter hummed. So blissfully unaware. “She’s a girl I met in the forest yesterday.”
I could feel every painstakingly difficult year of therapy slipping away from me. With a trembling hand, I ripped the page out of her notebook and crumbled it, ignoring her cries of protest.
We live nowhere near a forest. I can hear that song again.