Burst Fade

..., he another shriek outside. Az burst into a panicked frenzy, fluttering... Az at his back and burst out of the tavern, ready... crossed through the door and burst into the town square, a ... strike the earth, unleashing a burst of shining light. When I ... and the sensation began to fade. Yugo, full of renewed determination, ...

... her halo of blue energy fade and turned to face it... the sun. Below, brilliant crystals burst from the ground and encased.... With a cry and a burst of shimmering, green energy, Teddiursa ...

... from my hand!" With a burst of light, a nimble dinosaur... her arm, the invisible pressure burst forth. Sending an ear-splitting blast... runes around them began to fade as the duel concluded. Lennox ...

... 'SUNBURST' because of the overwhelming burst of light produced during detonation.... You embody this saying.] ​ Sam burst into laughter before dismissing the... of several children seeming to fade into the deepening darkness now...

... space just as the doors burst open. Corenel workers flood in... looked like light itself. Daryu burst from the shadows and fired... electrical zipline keypad. The doors burst open as chivals flooded the... would not allow them to fade into obscurity. And that is...

... last traces of the monster fade away, "Wasn't expecting that thing... that signal, Chrom and Sully burst out behind the great knight...." "Holy crap, that's rich!" I burst out laughing at Chrom's statement. "...

Swipe to last for “the before” 😆 Sa sobrang init ng panahon ngayon, napansin namin na madalas na siya nago-open mouth panting kaya sinuggest ng vet na i-shave para di siya masyado mainitan. Napa-who you lang kami pagbalik niya galing gupit HAHA submitted by /u/suiyoubby to r/catsofrph [link] [comments]

Hahahaha tawang tawa talaga ako. Ang cute cute huhuju submitted by /u/Unlucky-Theme-9637 to r/OnlyPusa [link] [comments]

I will premise my post by saying that Im a hardcore Ppal onetrick (skill issue or preference, you name it) and I dont want Ppal to be broken op unkillable god outdpsing the dps and outhealing the healer yada yada but there's a stark difference between that and whatever this spec's state is right now. I love paladin class and prot's spec fantasy. I really enjoy the gameplay loop. Unfortunately, current state of this spec is probably the worst I've experienced since I started playing it midway through SL in patch 9.1. With the most recent patchnotes Blizzard announced that Ppal is getting a 10% armor buff which is genuinely baffling. It amasses to nothing (roughly 3,8% less phys dmg taken or 1,9% less overall dmg taken which is 1/5th of a key level) and addresses none of the issues the spec is dealing with currently. The exact same issue last patchnotes suffered from (even though they identified the issue correctly back then and stated it in their "Developer's notes" section). I understand that fundamental issues wont be addressed with a random round of tuning but ... is that all you can do? Really? To me this seems like they arent even trying. There's so many simple ways to alleviate the issue. Im going to be very blunt but they are not beating the copilot allegations with these tank patchnotes. VERY LONG yap ahead so let me start with a short TLDR: Horrendously low passive mitigation. Not enough uptime on active mitigation. Relying on immunities (100% damage reduction) to survive. Horrendous self sustain. Constantly drawing healer's attention (by proxy putting party in danger). Horrendous damage profile. Horrendous ST damage. Absolute mess of a class and spec talent trees. Here's a list of changes going into MID: Redoubt's rework lowered max hp by 6%. Consecration's mitigation got nerfed by 60% compared to TWWS3 or 80% compared to DF (TWW: 12% --> 5% | DF: 23% --> 5%) and thats IF you spec into it which costs you FOUR talent points. Baseline block went from high 60s to high 20s (also talents further increasing block by 40% are gone). Ardent cd is roughly 33% longer compared to TWWS3 (cd 0:40 --> 1:04) not to mention its still a 20%/8s cd. Bubble cd is roughly 90% longer compared to TWWS3 (cd 1:50 --> 3:30, in S1 it was even shorter). Wall has 40% shorter cd in 5+ target scenarios (cd 2:10 --> 1:20) but in ST is actually slightly longer (cd 2:10 --> 2:20) even though base cd was reduced by 2:00!! The cdr difference scales with target count leading to weird variance when it comes to one of the most important mitigation tools. Eye of Tyr is completely gone. Zealot's Paragon got moved into the spec tree (2 point tax in the bottom section of the tree) which made taking Uther's Counsel (also nerfed) impossible without sacrificing one of the crucial talents. Here's a list of problems this spec currently suffers from according to some middling (7/9M, starting +15s mostly due to prog being very time consuming) Prot Paladin onetrick. Horrendously low passive mitigation Lowest max hp of all tank specs. Blessing of Dawn average 5% dr (0-10 based on current hp). Consecration 5% dr IF you spec into Sanctuary (costs 4 points). 26% phys block (7% base from shield + 19% from mastery). 38% magic block (2x mastery) which is not enough to rely on it (only 100% is a reliable mitigation for tankbusters). Bulwark of Order absorbs are microscopic since stamina is being consistently balooned. Not enough uptime on active mitigation Sentinel has 30-33% uptime (1:00 cd vs 0:18-0:20 dur). It also has an opportunity cost of 15-20% of your overall as well as hinges on Instruments of the Divine bug (it has not been confirmed if its intentional) to function well. Ardent defender has 12,7% uptime (1:03 cd vs 0:08 dur). Wall has 10% uptime in 5+ target scenario (1:20 cd vs 0:08 dur). Wall has 5,7% uptime in 1 target scenario (2:20 cd vs 0:08 dur). Bubble has 3,8% uptime (3:30 cd vs 0:08 dur). 33,3%+12,7%+10%+3,8% = 59.8% cd coverage with PERFECT play. Without Sentinel it plummets to 26.5%. In ST it drops further to 22.2% ... Mitigation outside of cooldowns is armor and block which bleeds ignore!! and pitiful dr \2x5%].) Its so low that you will often have to resort to kiting or risk dying to melee swings and there are mobs this season that penalize you \with death] for running away.) Horrendously designed self sustain Falls off rapidly with increasing difficulty of the content because it doesnt scale with damage taken and majority of its value is frontloaded. Relies entirely on primary stat scaling which often lags behind in later seasons of the expansion (due to balooning stamina). Missing hp multiplier forces you to use it when you're low. In combination with low max hp it puts you in danger of dying to a melee swing in difficult enough keys. Crit makes it unreliable. Non crit WoG at 50% hp will barely move your bar while near death crit WoG will fully heal you. Crits feel like "thank god" rather than "neat!". Inconsistency when it comes to something as important as self sustain is AWFUL. Has a pretty limited amount of uses and most of them are funneled into wings window where you DONT want to cast it because its on GCD meaning you will extend Wings/Sentinel less leading to even less uptime of active mitigation. If you use it too often and overspend your holy power economy on self sustain you will lose your armor from shield of the righteous and DIE (not a what if scenario). Not to mention a massive throughput loss since healing has no conversion to damage. Comes and goes in waves (inconsistent) which results in healer having to constantly pay attention to the tank and dragging it away from the rest of the group. Undying Embers (new talent) healing is mostly turning into overhealing and there's no conversion to absorb safeguards. Solace costs 2 points and provides very mild self sustain (also scaling with the amount of targets). Horrendous damage profile The peaks and valleys look like as if I was playing a dps spec. On paper its great since burst (and funnel) are extremely valuable. It has incredibly infuriating consequences in reality. You spike doing 10 times more damage in the first 5 seconds of wings (and thats already after apex talents / divine resonance interaction got nerfed) which then drops even further when wings are over. Exacerbated massively by the addition of Apex talents. Its near impossible to hold aggro if you dont have wings on pull of the trash pack and more often than not its better to either hold them (big throughput waste) at the end of the pull or wait for them after pull. Not to mention that Consecration does basically no damage which means your passive threat is EXTREMELY low. Im still in the habit of dropping Consecration when im gathering the pack to get some aggro on the way and one heal on me results in healer getting the aggro instantly. Compared to DF Consecration does like a tenth of its damage. Horrendous ST damage Every single ability cleaves. Every. Single. One. The only source of ST damage is auto attacks. There's a couple of tuning knobs that can be used (talents that buff damage on main target - Greater Judgment, Apex 4 or Focused Enmity which only works in pure ST) but even with these there's simply no reasonable way to tune this spec's ST damage because if you buff ST other than auto attacks AoE damage skyrockets. Absolute mess of a class and spec talent trees Class tree is an absolute and utter mess. Multiple spec specific nodes in class tree (what's the point of the class tree??). So many dead talents that provide absolutely no meaningful value. 1/3 of the spec talent tree is dead either because of the Consecration oriented talents that add margin of error value with talents that have value being gated behind them or because talents themselves have no value. Investing 6 spec points into ability that does 1-2% overall damage sure sounds like a great deal! If you made it here ... Thank you for your time. Im just sad, man. For most of TWW the spec was designed very well. A fast paced tank that relied on juggling active mitigation to survive. S1 was a rough ride but that's because of difficulty and white swings being cranked up to 11. This time it feels like the spec is fundamentally broken and lacks tools (or passive bulk) to withstand the beating and Blizzard is neither listening nor doing anything about it. The completely tone deaf tank tuning and "we can nerf brewmaster, do you want that?" is genuinely depressing. Im currently hanging by a thread and only because im in charge of stuff in my guild as well as being a tank for both my guild and my friends but its very hard to keep the spirits up. All I can do is either yell into the void of the internet or simply accept the fact that it wont get better and reroll to Brm or quit the game (my ingame social circle is entirely built around me being a tank so rerolling to healer/dps is simply not possible). Even I started leveling Brm on the side so Im going to be another statistic of this fiasco ... The worst part is this spec can function if they actually allow it to mitigate damage but for some reason they are (it seems intentionally) avoiding doing so and its extremely demoralizing. submitted by /u/RakshasaRanja to r/wow [link] [comments]

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/rulesrulesrules7 Me [25 F] with my boyfriend [25 M] duration 7 months. My boyfriend is very jealous and keeps making "rules" for me to follow TRIGGER WARNING: Abusive behavior, controlling behavior, gaslighting, manipulation, verbal abuse, infidelity MOOD SPOILER: An amazing ending for OOP Original Post Apr 4, 2015 Hello, everyone. I have a bit of a weird predicament to share with you. I have been dating my boyfriend ("Peter") for about 7 months now. When we get along, we get along spectacularly. Our chemistry is off the charts, we're playful, we're both driven, we have similar interests (same career path, both read for leisure, both interested in exercise). I've been told by many friends that they can just sense how much we care about each other and that we have the same disposition: calm, relaxed, sweet. If not for the following stuff, I would be head over heels for him. Hell, I already am when he's not acting this way. So this stuff started happening about a month in. Peter is an extremely jealous person. He's admitted this to me. He can also be a bit judgmental and conservative. The following is a list of things he's asked me to do for him throughout the course of our relationship. I haven't asked for anything like this in return and I've even asked him if he feels like I've done the same and he's said no: No cursing. No low-cut shirts. No weed (not a big deal, I've smoked < 10 times and was okay with giving this up for him). He prefers me to not get "drunk." Not a big deal, I don't drink a lot, but it kind of sucks that I can never let loose and get tipsy with my friends without a comment from him. No perverted jokes: with him, or anyone else. He says the jokes would be funny if a guy said them but they're not funny when I do it. No using a joking "little kid" voice with friends - even girls. No talking about other guys around him because he thinks I'm trying to make him jealous. No talking about past relationships, even though he does this. No emoticons in texts with other guys. No exclamation points or sounding "too flirty or happy" when talking to guys. Audibly say "goodbye" when we part ways. Verbally greet him, even if I'm late to class. No speaking to male friends on the telephone or texting after 10 pm at night. Text him when I leave my apartment and I'm on the way to school. This isn't a specific rule, but if I don't text him for 3-4 hours during the day, he'll say "Oh, hi there, silent one. What have you been up to?" He likes me to stop by his study space when I get to school, before class, after class, and before I leave at the end of the day. He's stopped by my space less than 10 times in our 7 months together. He asks me if I'm "behaving" when we're not together physically. We've had a bit of a power struggle when I've wanted to go out with my group of friends. There is a structured timetable of how much I'm allowed to talk to my ex. We broke up two years ago and a half and had a year of silence. Recently, we've been speaking on facebook. (He doesn't have my phone number). It's random stuff about our undergraduate. Just friendly stuff, lighthearted. I'm only allowed to talk to him once every three weeks for 10-15 minutes. If he facebooks me and it's been outside those three weeks, I'm not supposed to respond. He still gets mad even when the ex facebooks me. I'm not supposed to "flirt" with members of the opposite sex. I don't. However, he's seen interactions between guys and me and it appears he thinks that anything along the lines of smiling, laughing, or sarcasm are grounds for flirting. He "doesn't like" easily 80% of the guys I interact with on a regular basis. There have been a few incidents that have bothered me in the time we've been together. In the interest of time, the most recent problem he and I have been having is my friend named James. James graduated last year from the program that Peter and I are in together. He's a big brother type to me. He was an assigned TA for the class I was in and I went to a study group he led. We became friends. We've been friends for three years and nothing has ever happened and neither James nor I have ever shown any interest in it. We just have similar political views and give each other dating advice on occasion. James came to visit the school and he and I got together for lunch while he was here. He was here for 3 days and I saw him once for only an hour. Before he visited, we texted back and forth maybe once every ten days. Since he visited, it's been 2-3 times a week, about 10 texts at a time. Nothing outrageous. I imagine it'll start lessening when it's been longer since his visit and exams approach. He's in a new city without a lot of friends and I enjoy talking to him. Because he's working, he usually texts me on Saturday and Sunday more than the work week. James texted me last Saturday morning. I didn't answer so he followed up with a text on Sunday. We chatted briefly about a TV show. Then he texted me again this Saturday to tell me about his date the night before. This has been driving Peter up the wall. He's demanded to see the texts back and forth. Even though I strongly object to this, as I think it's an invasion of privacy only 7 months in, I let him see all the texts. There was nothing inappropriate there (this is where the "no emoticon" rule came from though). However, Peter says that James is a "shark" and is only friends with me because he wants to date me. This is ridiculous because James and I have no feelings towards each other, act more like siblings, and are going to be living in different states for the rest of our lives. Peter causes a fight EVERY time he notices James texting me or gets pouty and silent until I ask him what's wrong, then we fight. About two hours ago, Peter gave me another rule. He wants me to arrange it so James only texts me once a week. No word yet on how many texts I would be "allowed" to exchange with him. He also says he doesn't want us talking about "intimate things." When I asked him what that entailed, he brought up that he was mad that I told James that I was going to take a nap in the last conversation we had. I only told James that as a conversation-ender so he wouldn't wonder why I wasn't responding. Peter just seems unreasonable. I guess, here's the big problem. I feel like Peter gets mad about something, fights with me until I'm worn down, then comes up with a "compromise" which is really just him imposing another rule on me. There was a guy who liked me at the beginning of the year that I eventually just had to block on my phone because Peter got so mad about it. He's asked me twice to show him that the guy is really blocked. He really is. Same thing happened with the ex and I know his end game is me never speaking to the ex again. Peter had a jealousy issue with my friend Rob and wore me down to the point that I basically just avoid Rob now (Rob even approached to ask if I was mad at him and apologize for whatever he did). I just feel like this is going to keep happening over and over. I never get the benefit of the doubt, James is constantly afraid I'm going to be "stolen" and I feel like I teeter-totter between wanting to give him what he asks so he'll feel comfortable and feeling like it will never be enough. I feel like a caged animal. I'm afraid every time James texts me or any guy speaks to me in front of Peter. I like him so much but this jealousy is driving me crazy. I'm also afraid if we're together, I'm going to get to the point where I'm not allowed to be friendly with 50% of the population. I'm in danger of losing a total of 3 good, respectful guy friends, all of which I've known for longer than Peter. (I knew Rob for two years, James for 3, and the ex for nearly 6). I'm not a bad person or a bad girlfriend and I'm tired of being treated this way. We fight at least weekly, sometimes twice a week, over an issue like this. I just want it to stop and to be with the person I fell so hard for. But I also don't want to end up in a controlling relationship with someone who can't manage their jealousy. Any advice? Ever been on his side or mine? He's already going to a counselor but our school only provides one every two weeks and he missed his last appointment. He's open to couple's counseling but I don't know if there's a point 7 months in. Because he missed the last appointment, he hasn't brought up the jealousy thing with his counselor yet. He's willing to read books on this topic but I feel like the problem is that he won't start to get better until he really trusts me and wants to change. He says that he does but then he keeps doing this stuff. tl;dr: Very jealous boyfriend continually gives me "rules." Sample list above (not all of them). Any ideas on how to make him more comfortable? Is this fixable? Have you been on either side of something like this? RELEVANT COMMENTS MeltMyCheeseKThxBai You just presented us with a literal bullet point list of why you need to break the fuck up with him, ASAP. PETER is the shark here. And actually, you're right- this WILL keep happening over and over. Not only will it keep happening, but it will keep escalating. Here is a list for you, and I will call it "Soon." Soon, you will be afraid to walk around while looking anywhere but the ground because you don't want to be accused of purposely making eye contact with someone. Soon, you will compliantly give him access to all of your stuff to placate him and he will peruse your personal stuff regularly; many confrontations will result about your "infractions" and he will spring them on you at inconvenient times. Soon, you will not be allowed to interact or be friendly with anyone who isn't on his approved list; this will eventually include your family. Soon, while you're constantly on eggshells afraid to be accused of cheating, you will find out that he actually cheated on you. Maybe with one of those exes he likes to talk about. Because, you see, these types are so paranoid about cheating because they are cheaters and think everyone else will cheat too. Soon, if you have a job, he will be asking about your coworkers and maybe even show up there for a "surprise inspection". Don't be surprised if soon, additionally, he starts the practice of keeping you up all night fighting and not letting you sleep when he knows you have to work. Soon, you will stop butting heads about you going out with friends. This is because he will make your every attempt so miserable that you will give up to make things "easier". Soon, you will be but a shell of your former self and will wonder who the fuck that is staring at you in the mirror. Soon, he may become violent. He likely won't until he has effectively removed your support systems (friends and family) but eventually he damn near certainly will. I hope that SOON you heed the warnings and get the fuck away from this lunatic before he ruins you. Seriously, you have to get this. This is very, very bad. He will not change no matter how much counseling he gets. You modifying your behavior will NEVER change his. He is fucking dangerous and you need to end it with him NOW before he gets the chance to employ more advanced tactics on you. You are in dire need of these two books; "The Gift of Fear" and "Why Does He Do That?" I beg you, read them. Please seriously get the fuck away from this person. Edit: More stuff coming Soon to a relationship near you (will add as I think of them): Soon, he will call you "slut" and/or "whore" for the first time because "he told you not to wear that shirt". You will get upset. You also will never wear that shirt again. OOP I don't live near my family but there was a time last weekend where I was texting my family about a basketball game. We were cuddling on the couch and he took the phone away and said "Babe, can we just have 'us' time? We've been fighting all day and I just want to be with you." So that might be eminent. We fought today after James texted me about his date last night. I've been sick with a 101+ fever the past two days and cuddling with my childhood stuffed animal. He picked her up and acted like he was going to rip her arm off because he "wanted to scare me" and "see what I would do." I had to stop myself from kicking him. I've had the animal since I was 5 and she's from my dead grandmother. I don't know what I would do if she was broken. When I got her back, I tried to kick Peter out and he wouldn't leave. I ended up throwing his shoes and keys into the hallway and pushing him out the door. He took me out to lunch and then went back to the library. Now he's mad that we're going to bed angry. This was one of the texts I got this afternoon: "I know you don't want to hurt his (meaning James) feelings by telling him to take it easy on texts but you need to consider your boyfriend's feelings about this guy texting you so often every week. What he is doing is crossing my boundary. I know you don't want to hurt his feelings so I get you might not want to tell him flat out to stop texting. There are other ways. The main point is that this is too much and it is crossing a line of mine. I think once a week might be ideal and if we could reach that, it would ease my feelings. I ask that you consider my feelings. In return, I will make sure my jealousy does not lead me to imposing boundaries. You can tell him the truth: that he is crossing my boundaries and I ask that he respects me. I am being reasonable. All of our fights the last few weeks have been about this. If this goes away, then we both win and we can stay together happier." When I asked him what he's ever done in exchange for what I've given up, he said that he went through a phase of criticizing me and he's gotten better. That that was real change. Then he told me that I mean the world to him and he wouldn't go out of his way to try and fix our issues if he didn't care about me and being together for the future. I told him I wanted a break. Update May 1, 2015 (1 month later) Hi, all. Sorry that I dropped off and stopped responding all the sudden. I want to take a moment to sincerely thank you all for the outpouring of support and kindness that you showed me after my original post. I've read every single comment and PM probably 4 times and watched every lecture that was sent my way. I also went and picked up a book two days ago about controlling relationships which was recommended to me by a few redditors. I've read 160 pages so far. Honestly, I'm so turned around in this relationship that I don't know what's happening anymore. I do think that this relationship has some disturbingly manipulative and controlling elements coming from Peter. We've had several incidents in the last four weeks which have been very disheartening. Here are a sample: I went out to happy hour with friends - a guy and girl that are engaged to each other - at 5 pm while Peter studied. I guess he assumed we were eating dinner together because we eat most of our meals together. He didn't confirm that though. He knew where I was going and who I was with. I put my phone away because my friends both had their phone away and it was just us three. My phone was on silent because I had been in the library. I checked my phone every half hour or so. The last time I checked it, he had sent me a text asking about dinner and then a snarky follow up 15 minutes later. I had order an appetizer with my friends and wasn't hungry. I told him to go ahead and eat without me and we'd meet up later. I decided to go back to my friends' house to play with their dog and have another beer. Peter had told me that he was going to study until 10 pm and then wanted to spend the night together. All the sudden, Peter was mad at me for not telling him I was eating, not telling him we switched locations (even though I did, within 10 minutes of switching places) and telling me that he had right as my boyfriend to know where I was. He said I was inconsiderate and selfish. He was texting me every 10-15 minutes, angry at me, and completely ruined the night. I couldn't hide from my friends that I was upset and it was borderline humiliating. I went home by 10 pm but didn't want to see him because I was angry. He didn't apologize until the next day after we talked about it extensively and even then tried to justify it. I feel weird around my friends now that they've seen this. There was another incident when we ran into one of my good friends and I stopped to chat with her. Peter and I had spend the night together, had lunch together, and gone on a walk. I caught up with my friend for 3 minutes and then planned on walking to Peter's study space to chat for a few minutes before going back to my friend to study with her. (Peter likes to say "goodbye" even though we study like 20 ft apart, separated by a wall.) Peter got impatient, felt ignored, and walked off. Then he sent me several texts about how rude and inconsiderate I was by pretending that he wasn't there. That wasn't true at all; I was telling my friend I liked her sweater, asking her how she was, then I was going to exit with Peter to fill my water bottle and say goodbye. This blew up into a 3 hour argument via text. I had my best friend from home visiting last weekend. She stayed with me and drove 18 hours round trip in 4 days just to see me. Peter constantly texted, made passive aggressive comments if I didn't respond quickly enough, and generally was negative about me not giving him enough attention. I pointed all this out, he agreed and told me he would calm down. We all went to a dinner on her last night in town and I thought it went nicely. When Peter got out of the car, my friend made a comment that she was glad to see Peter and I getting along better. 5 minutes later, I got a text from Peter criticizing me, accusing me of not acting like a "couple" with him, acting distant, and not holding his hand. I was shocked. I thought I did a great job with the conversation, he talked for his fair share amount of time, and he got along well with my friend. She's been my best friend for 10 years. He said he hates how I "always do this." I have literally no idea what he's talking about. This wasn't a date. This was the first time he met one of the people who was most important to me and the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel like a third wheel. I told him I wasn't going to argue while she was in town but obviously was upset for the rest of the night. He apologized the next day but only after a long conversation. Obviously he didn't make a great impression once my friend saw the aftermath of dinner. Peter and I had a good day on Tuesday. We had fun, were getting along, etc. I came over to his place, took a nap, he went to soccer, and then I ordered us dinner. We ate together and bonded. I checked my phone (I keep it in my backpack now, at his request) and he saw I had a text. He wanted to know who it was from and what it said. I told him it was from James, asking where I was studying this summer (my home state or school state). Peter started lecturing me about getting texts after 10 pm (it was 10:30 where we were, 9:30 where James was). He talked about how it was inappropriate, he wouldn't talk to a girl so late, and asked why James wanted to know where I was. He asked if James was planning on visiting me. James and I have no plans like that whatsoever. Later, I got chapstick out of my backpack and Peter started accusing me of sneaking around to text James back. I wasn't. He asked me three times if that's what I did. I almost left but Peter convinced me to stay. All of the sudden, I felt suspicious. I asked to see his facebook chat log so I could see when he had lasted facebooked his ex that he swears he hasn't spoken to. He refused. I ended up leaving, then coming back and saying if he wouldn't show me the same transparency he's demanded from me, it was over. He still tried to say no. In retrospect, I'm horrified by how angry I felt. I wanted to push him or hit him. I've never, ever felt like that towards another person. It's like I didn't recognize myself. He ended up showing me the log. He had a long conversation with his ex from Christmas Eve, which was laden with inside jokes, flirting, and sexual references. I asked to see his phone. Whole months were missing from his call log but he had two voicemails from her which insinuated they had some contact with each other. He swears that's all there is but almost half his call log is gone. This is something I could forgive in a normal relationship -with remorse and change - but it hurts a lot considering that he's breaking rules he's given me, lied, and been hypocritical. I feel so watched and suffocated over actual guy friends, subjected myself to structured timetables imposed by him, had an open phone policy, and he's off talking about suggestive stuff with his ex. She's blocked him now but that's not the point. He's got me to the point where I feel guilty every time a male friend talks to me and I've actually started believing that I'm doing something wrong if I laugh at a guy friend's joke. I feel sick when my phone goes off if I'm around him. I've been reading literature on controlling/abusive relationships and shared my concerns with him that he's meandering into this territory. He's been dismissive of it almost every time I've brought it up. I've had three friends tell me they're concerned based on the rules and his jealousy. He just says he has high standards and boundaries and that I would be jealous too if the roles were reversed. I don't think I would be but he insists I would. I just feel like he doesn't listen to me or take me seriously. I thought things were getting better, he said I could text James whenever I wanted and he would be less harsh/critical in general. Yesterday though, he asked if I had responded to James and why "that guy" wanted to know where I was and said it was weird James was being so nosy. I think James was just making conversation. Then, last night, I was studying with friends and Peter walked by. Peter and I had just fought (we had been at dinner 10 minutes before) and I was mid-word in conversation with a friend and just made eye contact with him and looked away. I got a text asking why I didn't smile and wave. I apologized and said it was my fault and didn't mean to hurt his feelings. I then got more texts saying I was "cold" and demanding an explanation. That got me upset and I tried to tell him that the constant criticism and control was too much. That I felt like he was trying to control my emotions and make me pretend to be happy when I wasn't. He told me I was overreacting and he was tired of arguing and just wanted "to be good and nice." I feel like he starts a fight, expresses his feelings, then wants it to be over, even though the criticism and control is really wearing me down and making me agitated. I just feel like if I stay with him, I'm going to end up giving in and letting him criticize me, letting go of my guy friends, and apologizing when I mess up. That I'll just end up a shell of myself and cater to his needs instead of compromising. But I also don't think he's doing this on purpose. I think he gets insecure and doesn't know how to fix it, so he wants me to do it instead of asking himself if he's overreacting. I think that's how we get all these rules. He's fixing symptoms and not the root cause. I don't think any of this is malicious. I tried to break up with him again two days ago. He begged me to wait until after finals (8 days). Eventually I agreed but said that there would be no sleep overs or physical affection. He agreed but now he's trying to kiss me even when I tell him I don't want to kiss. Then he gets mad I'm not kissing back. He says he knows now that he's being controlling and manipulative and he'll change. But I'm not seeing any change. I just feel so confused as to whether I'm overreacting or not. I can't tell if he's actually being a little abusive and he makes me doubt myself because he doesn't call me names or hurt me physically. He wants to read the book when I'm done with it and says he'll learn from it and wants to stay with me. In 8 day finals are over. In 17 days, I graduate from law school. I just feel so bad about myself and confused. I've always been an empathetic person and emotionally intelligent person (that's usually what I'm "known for" by friends... know how to say the right thing at the right time and see things from other people's perspectives) but I feel so steamrolled. I'm also so embarrassed. I'm supposed to be this strong, capable woman and I can't even tell if my relationship is healthy. Right now, I'm planning on dumping Peter the second his final is over and blocking him on everything. I feel relief when I think about that. But I also feel scared that I'll miss him and that I'm being crazy and unwilling to compromise. That I'm throwing away something good by being dramatic. I keep trying to convince myself, apart from the question of whether he's controlling, that if I'm not happy, I can't stay with Peter. That long distance is too hard. He wants to interview at law firms in my city and plan on how to get back together in a year. I can't do that if I have any doubts and I don't want to spend another day miserable. I HAVE to dump him. I just need to make sure I do. I've already tried multiple times. I can't get talked back into this. This isn't healthy. Sidenote: He knows that I've posted on here but not what my username is and he hasn't seen the original post. It's a possibility he could stumble upon this and he would obviously recognize it because of this level of detail. TL;DR: I feel like a crazy person. I'm doubting my emotions. I know I need to break up with him but I'm so worried I'm being overdramatic and ruining something because I'm unreasonable. I know I need to get out but why am I so reluctant to? Final Update from the "Rules" girl - I did it. May 25, 2015 (24 days after 1st update) I finally did it. Today I took the last step and blocked him on all my accounts (10 minutes ago). We're going no contact. You all were right that he used the time before and immediately after finals to draw me back in. I don't really regret waiting though. I didn't want to be the reason that he ended up messing up all his finals and potentially not getting a job he wanted because of grades. That isn't the person that I want to be and I'm okay with sacrificing a few weeks of my happiness for retaining that part of myself. The following weeks were full of his apologies, assurances that he's changing, etc. But nothing changed. I realized that I didn't even want to wait around to see if he could get better because I don't want to be with him. He's not respectful of me and you can't teach respect. He seems completely incapable of empathizing with me and taking me into consideration when making plans. He wouldn't listen to me, he was dismissive of my concerns, and I just didn't feel valued, supported, or happy when we spoke. When I broke up with him, he said that's what he wanted too because my interactions with men (including James) are "inappropriate" and "not in line with his beliefs." Two months ago that would have really bothered me and I would have gotten reeled back in defending myself but I just said "You know that's not true but I'm not going to fight with you about it. I wish you the best. Goodbye." and then blocked him. I feel a little sad and lonely. It'll be weird to go from nearly constant contact and cutesy text messages to complete and utter silence but I'm hoping the payoff of not having horrible fights multiple times a week will balance that out. The good news: I graduated last week, made honor roll, got the highest award in a competitive class, I'm back in my home state, living with my parents (I adore them and get along well with them), and my bar review class starts tomorrow morning. I'm back to running and lifting multiple times a week and I'm in the process of booking up my social calendar. It'll be hard to stop checking my phone compulsively and sad going to sleep without saying goodnight to him, but I think that I'm in the best circumstances (aka not living one building away) to make this fade as gently as possible. I've reached out to a friend already and she supports my decision. I'll reach out to a few others this afternoon. The hardest part of this is letting go of the fantasy that he would get better and I could have this intense, passionate, beautiful relationship with him that was also healthy. I let his possessiveness slide because I felt so intensely cared about. But now I know what to watch out for in the future. I'm going to remain single for the rest of 2015 in an effort to build myself back up and prevent another toxic relationship. I will protect myself in the future the way I would protect a friend. I'm 25 now and I need to start taking who I date more seriously because I don't want to end up married to someone like Peter. I'm scared of the future, of being with someone like him, and of never feeling this level of passion again. I'm especially afraid that I really am all the things he accused me of being. But I know I'm doing the right thing. This is usually when he would come running to my door, knocking, waiting, and begging me to unblock him. This is the first time I won't. Thank you, so much, for your support and patience. This sub gets a lot of grief for a myriad of reasons but you all do so much good. So much more than you even know. I am eternally grateful to each and every one of you that commented and especially those that direct messaged me. You all were a lifeline to me when I wasn't ready to turn to my friends. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. tl;dr: I dumped him. Got accused of sort-of cheating (again) during the break up. Feeling weird but relieved. Blocked him on everything. Just wanted to share the good news. Two years out of an abusive relationship and I'm so happy, I could burst. July 29, 2017 (over 2 years later) Two years ago, I posted some rather desperate r/relationships questions asking for help. (If you're curious the initial cry for help, starting to gather strength to leave, the jubilant break up post. I knew deep down that something was desperately wrong with my relationship but I was hellbent on fixing it. The posts were the beginning of finding my way out of what felt like a mindfog. I tried to post on relationships to let people know how it was going, in the hopes that if there were people considering leaving similar situations, they know that something better is out there. Unfortunately, relationships doesn't allow multiple posts. However, I felt an intense desire to share the "after" part of leaving an abusive relationship to let women know that there IS life after an abuser, even if they feel like their world will cease without the relationship. I hope this sub is an okay place for this. It only took about two months after my break up to know that I would 100% be okay. That moment came while I was on a family vacation and was curling my hair in the mirror. I made eye contact with my reflection. I remember being startled because I saw someone looking back that looked calm. She wasn't worried about whether she'd get called slutty, whether smiling too much at dinner would get her accused of cheating, or whether the swimsuit she chose for the pool would get her accused of "showing off" and yelled at. For the first time in a year, I felt happy, safe, and confident. I became nearly giddy realizing I hadn't been criticized in months and I felt FREE. It took so much for me to get out of the relationship. I think I was borderline addicted to the highs and lows. Every time I started to escape, I got "love bombed" (learned this term in my research post-break up) and pulled back in. I was worried nothing would ever feel as good as that relationship. However, I followed all the “standard break up advice” and worked out, reconnected with friends, started up new hobbies and (very importantly!) went to counseling. It was a long road, but a much easier one than I originally expected. And at the end of it, I was happy. Here's a list of things that have happened to me in the last two years that have been better than that relationship: Passing my state's bar to become a lawyer; Starting a new job where I feel challenged and respected; Getting a gorgeous new apartment downtown; Getting into the best shape of my life; Making friends with a strong group of intelligent, kickass women that my ex would have never let me befriend; Drinking/smoking/sleeping without being guilted for not following my ex's expectations for what I should be doing with my time; Getting a cat and not needing to worry about her safety around my ex or him getting jealous; Leaving my house without having to give text updates about where I am; Smiling at strangers without being questioned over it; Being approached to run for office in 2018 and saying yes because I want to do it; and Literally everything. Here's what I want to say to anyone who is interested: Anyone can get sucked into an abusive relationship. It doesn't matter how smart you are, how confident you are, or how independent you want to be. Just because you’re in one doesn’t make you dumb or worthless. It doesn’t make you easy prey or unable to be in a healthy relationship next time. The only antidote is listening to your gut and respecting boundaries that you put into place for your own life. There were so many times that I felt a pit in my stomach and knew something was wrong but ignored it because I felt like a compromise could be found. Some people out there are scary, they are manipulative, and they do not want the best for you. They only care about themselves and you cannot make them respect you, value you, or treat you well. When you meet that person, don't try to change them. Cut your losses and leave. Don't let their voice get in your head and to start believing their narrative of who you are. It took me nearly a year to undo the damage that an 8 month relationship did to me. (Can you believe things got this bad in 8 months?!) I would internally feel myself panic for months after the break up when I laughed too much with my friends, thinking that I would be getting lectured about being fake/flirty/inappropriate. It took me so long to start making sarcastic jokes again (my ex didn't "get them" or think they were funny). I basically had to regrow all myself self confidence and redefine myself worth. I could barely even express an opinion on where I wanted to eat since it hadn't mattered in so long. Once I got past that, I remember marveling at the tranquility of my life being mine, my self esteem returning to normal, and people treating me gently/kindly. My parents told me I was happier than they’d seen me in a year and my best friend told me that she was glad “to have me back.” (Side note: Counseling is IMPORTANT. People that are in an abusive relationship are more likely to get into another one than someone who has never been abused. When you are being abused, up looks like down and down looks like up. Going to counseling helped me re-orient, figure out what was normal, and taught me to listen to my gut. It helped me rebuild and make sure this wouldn’t happen again. I didn’t even need many sessions but I actually liked it by the end! I’m forever a gigantic advocate of finding a counselor that fits your needs well.) I don’t want this to be the point of my post, so I’m putting it last. I took a dating hiatus for 6 months after the break up and tried to rebuild on my own. I think this was extremely important to help me re-center. After the six month hiatus, I wrote out parameters for dating and a list of things I needed in a partner (kindness, gentleness, warmth, an even temper). I was picky, I stopped seeing people that I felt weren’t listening to me or weren’t treating me well. After six months of dating, I found someone that fit the list. I’ve been dating him for a bit over a year, and I can’t stress how different this relationship is. It’s night and day. I’m listened to, respected, treated like a real partner, and my boundaries matter. I can be friends with whoever I want (I’m still good friends with James!) and my alone time is given with no questions asked. Tl;dr: I was in an abusive relationship, asked reddit for help, and they came through. Life is so much better post-break up. I want to emphasize this can happen to anyone, just because it’s happening doesn’t mean you deserve it. Get out! Life gets better than you can imagine. THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7 submitted by /u/Direct-Caterpillar77 to r/BestofRedditorUpdates [link] [comments]

submitted by /u/Cool-Cheetah5467 to r/MenHairstyle [link] [comments]

I am a medical doctor, specifically a forensic pathologist. A few months ago, I landed my first official position at a large county morgue. After years of medical school, residency, and brutal hours, I finally had a steady job with a clear routine. The work is not glamorous, but it is necessary. I examine the deceased, determine the cause of death, and prepare the reports. It is quiet, methodical work, which is exactly what I wanted. The facility itself is located in the basement level of a massive hospital complex. It is a sterile, cold environment, filled with stainless steel tables, bright fluorescent lights, and the constant, heavy smell of chemical cleaners and formaldehyde. There are only three of us who work down here during the day: the senior medical examiner, myself, and the janitor. The senior examiner is a quiet woman who spends most of her time in her office reviewing files. We barely speak unless it is about a specific case. That leaves the janitor. He is an old man. His skin is deeply wrinkled, resembling weathered leather, and his posture is severely hunched. He wears a standard gray maintenance uniform that always looks slightly too large for his thin frame. He moves slowly, dragging a mop bucket down the long, tiled hallways, keeping entirely to himself. He never speaks to me or the senior examiner. He just does his job, cleaning the floors, wiping down the stainless steel tables after we finish our examinations, and emptying the biohazard bins. I thought he was just a quiet, isolated man working a miserable job. But within my first three weeks, I started to notice a pattern. The morgue has a small viewing room. It is a space where families are brought to identify the bodies of their loved ones, or to spend a few final moments with them before they are transported to a funeral home. It is, without a doubt, the heaviest room in the building. As a doctor, you learn to detach yourself from the emotional weight of death, but witnessing the raw, visceral grief of a mother or a husband in that viewing room never gets easier. People react to sudden death in terrible ways. They collapse on the floor. They scream until their vocal cords tear. They hyperventilate. They beg the doctors to tell them there has been a mistake. It is loud, chaotic, and deeply tragic. But I noticed something impossible happening whenever the old janitor was working near the viewing room. The first time I noticed it, we had received the body of a young man who had died in a motorcycle accident. His parents were brought down to the viewing room. Through the heavy wooden door, I could hear the mother sobbing hysterically. Her wails were echoing down the tiled hallway. It was the sound of a person breaking apart completely. I was standing near the reception desk, filling out paperwork, feeling that familiar knot of heavy pity in my stomach. The old janitor walked down the hallway, dragging his mop bucket. He stopped outside the viewing room door. He left his mop leaning against the wall and slowly pushed the door open. He stepped inside. I assumed he was just going in to empty the trash or clean a spill, completely oblivious to the grieving parents. I considered going in to pull him out and tell him to give the family some privacy. But less than thirty seconds after he entered the room, the screaming stopped. It did not taper off into quiet crying. It stopped entirely, as if a switch had been flipped. A minute later, the old janitor walked back out of the room, picked up his mop, and continued down the hall. Shortly after, the parents walked out of the viewing room. I braced myself to see their ruined faces, prepared to offer them water or a chair. But they did not look ruined. The mother’s face was dry. The father was holding her hand. They looked calm. They looked incredibly, deeply peaceful. It was a genuine, relaxed relief. They thanked the receptionist politely and walked out to the elevator. I stood there, completely confused. You do not recover from the sudden death of your child in two minutes. Over the next month, I watched this exact scenario play out dozens of times. A grieving family would arrive, broken and screaming. The janitor would slip into the room. A few moments later, he would leave, and the family would emerge in a state of profound, unnatural peace. I never heard what he said to them. I tried to stand near the door once, straining to listen, but all I could hear was a low, rhythmic whispering. It sounded like he was speaking a language I did not understand, the syllables thick and harsh. Whatever he was doing, it was erasing their grief completely. I asked the senior examiner about it one afternoon. I asked her if she had ever noticed how the janitor interacts with the families. She did not look up from her paperwork. She simply told me that the old man had been working in the morgue long before she started. She told me he had a "gift for comforting the bereaved," and that I should leave him to his business. Her tone was sharp and final, making it clear the conversation was over. But the pattern with the families was not the only strange thing about the janitor. There was also the rule about the night shift. There is a very strict, unwritten rule in our facility. No one is allowed to stay in the morgue past six in the evening. The official explanation is that the hospital cuts the ventilation and power to the non-essential basement sectors to save money, but that is a lie. The power stays on. The real rule is simply that the medical staff must vacate the premises before nightfall. Only the janitor stays. He is the only person authorized to be in the morgue overnight. I learned how strictly this rule was enforced during my second month. We had a backlog of reports due to a large pileup on the highway. I decided to stay late at my desk to finish typing up the autopsy notes. I watched the senior examiner pack her bag at five-thirty. She told me to make sure I left before six. I nodded and kept typing. At exactly six o'clock, the door to my office swung open. The old janitor was standing in the doorway. He was holding his mop. He looked at me, his deep, dark eyes locking onto mine. "It is time for you to go," he said. His voice was incredibly deep. I told him I just needed another hour to finish my reports, and that I would lock up when I was done. He did not argue. He simply stepped fully into my office, walked over to my desk, and reached down to the wall outlet. He pulled the power cord to my computer directly out of the socket. The screen went black, instantly deleting an hour of my unsaved work. I stood up, angry, prepared to yell at him. But when I looked at his face, the anger evaporated. His expression was completely blank, but there was a heavy, dangerous tension in his posture. He looked at me with a cold, predatory focus that made my skin crawl. "The work is done," he said slowly. "You leave now." I packed my bag in silence and walked to the elevator. He stood in the hallway and watched me until the doors closed. That incident planted a deep seed of suspicion in my mind. The unnatural comforting of the families, the rigid isolation at night, the strange behavior of the senior examiner, it all pointed to something deeply wrong happening in the basement of the hospital. I could not let it go. My scientific training demanded an explanation. I needed to know what the old man was doing when the doors were locked. The opportunity to find out came three days ago. We received the body of a young woman in the early afternoon. It was a tragic, sudden medical failure. Her family arrived shortly after. There was a large group of them, parents, siblings, a fiancé. The viewing room was filled with absolute agony. The wailing was so loud it penetrated the thick walls of the examination suites. I watched from the end of the hallway. The janitor, moving with his slow, dragging shuffle, pushed open the door to the viewing room and went inside. Less than a minute later, absolute silence fell over the room. The janitor walked out, picking up his mop. Five minutes later, the large family emerged. They were holding each other, talking softly, wiping away a few lingering tears, but the heavy, crushing despair was entirely gone. They looked relieved. They looked like a heavy physical weight had been lifted from their shoulders. I made my decision right then. I was going to find out what he was whispering, and I was going to find out why he had to be alone with the bodies at night. At five-thirty, I packed my bag just like always. I said goodnight to the senior examiner and walked out to the main hallway toward the elevators. But instead of pressing the button to go up to the lobby, I slipped through the heavy fire door leading to the old supply storage room. The storage room is filled with dusty boxes of outdated medical supplies, broken rolling chairs, and old filing cabinets. It has not been used in years. I squeezed behind a tall metal shelving unit, sat down on the cold floor, and waited. I checked my watch. Six o'clock passed. I heard the distant sound of the heavy main doors locking for the night. The hum of the daytime activity died down entirely, leaving the basement level in profound silence. The cold began to seep through my scrubs, making my joints ache. I listened closely for the sound of the mop bucket, or the heavy dragging footsteps of the janitor. I heard nothing. then, a new sound broke the silence. It was a heavy, mechanical clanking, followed by the squeal of metal hinges. It was coming from the cold storage room. The room where we keep the large, stainless steel refrigeration units that house the bodies before and after examination. I stood up slowly, my legs stiff. I pushed the fire door open just a crack and peered out into the hallway. The main overhead fluorescent lights had been turned off. The only illumination came from the faint, green emergency exit signs mounted above the doors. I slipped out of the storage room and walked silently down the tiled corridor. My heart was beating rapidly against my ribs. I felt a deep, instinctual warning telling me to turn around and find a way out of the building. But the need to know, the terrible curiosity, pushed me forward. I reached the door to the cold storage room. It was slightly ajar. I pressed my back against the wall next to the doorframe and listened. I heard a wet, heavy, tearing sound. It sounded like thick fabric being ripped apart by bare hands, mixed with a sickening, squelching noise. It was followed by a wet, rhythmic smacking sound. Someone was eating. I slowly leaned my head forward and looked through the gap in the door. The cold storage room was illuminated only by the small, internal light of one of the open refrigeration drawers. The drawer had been pulled all the way out. Lying on the metal tray was the body of the young woman who had been brought in that afternoon. Standing over the metal tray was the janitor. His pale, wrinkled back was facing me. He was leaning heavily over the body. Both of his arms were buried deep inside the abdominal cavity of the corpse. My medical training tried to process what I was seeing. He was not using a scalpel, or even using a bone saw or surgical retractors. The woman's chest had not been opened through a standard Y-incision. The old man had simply forced his bare hands directly through the skin, muscle, and ribs. I watched in absolute, paralyzing horror as his shoulders heaved backward. He pulled his hands out of the chest cavity with a wet, sucking pop. Held tightly in his long, blood-soaked fingers was a dark, heavy mass of tissue. It was her liver. The janitor raised the large, dark organ to his face. He opened his mouth. In the dim light, I saw that his jaw seemed to unhinge, dropping lower than humanly possible. His teeth were sharp, jagged, and completely black. He bit deeply into the raw tissue. The sound of his chewing was wet and loud in the quiet, echoing room. He swallowed a large piece whole, his throat bulging unnaturally, and then took another massive bite. I felt a violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. I clamped my hand tightly over my mouth to stop myself from gagging. My brain was screaming in panic. I stepped backward, pulling away from the door frame, desperate to run back down the hallway and find a way out of the basement. I was completely terrified. As I moved my foot backward, my heel caught the edge of a heavy, plastic biohazard bin sitting against the wall. The bin tipped over. It hit the tiled floor with a loud, hollow crash, spilling plastic gloves and empty syringes across the corridor. The sound was deafening in the silence. The wet chewing in the cold room stopped instantly. I froze. I did not breathe. I stared at the open gap in the doorway. A heavy, low growl vibrated out from the cold room. It did not sound human. It sounded like the noise a large predator makes deep in its chest when it is disturbed at a kill. "Who is there?" the deep, scraping voice asked. I did not answer. I turned and ran. I abandoned all caution. I sprinted down the dark hallway, my shoes slipping slightly on the polished tiles. I ran past the reception desk, heading blindly toward the back stairwell that led up to the emergency exit. Behind me, I heard the heavy metal door of the cold room smash violently open, slamming against the concrete wall. Then came the footsteps. They were heavy, incredibly fast, and accompanied by the sound of long fingernails clicking rapidly against the floor tiles. He was moving with terrifying speed. I reached the end of the main corridor and turned sharply into the autopsy suite. I thought I could cut through the examination rooms and reach the service elevator in the back. I pushed through the swinging double doors, plunging into the dark, stainless-steel room. I scrambled behind a large examination table, crouching low to the ground. I held my breath, pressing my back against the cold metal cabinet. The swinging doors burst open behind me. The janitor stepped into the autopsy suite. The dim ambient light from the hallway caught his figure. He was covered in dark blood from his chest to his chin. He was breathing heavily, the air whistling through his jagged teeth. I watched him from under the table. His posture was completely different. He stood tall, his limbs appearing too long for his body. His fingers dragged against the sides of the tables as he walked slowly down the aisle. "You did not leave," he whispered. His voice echoed off the tile walls. "You broke the rule. I told you the work was done." I pressed my hands against my mouth, tears of pure terror stinging my eyes. I was trapped. The only exit to the room was behind him. He walked slowly past the table I was hiding behind. He did not look down. He continued toward the back of the room. I thought I had a chance. If he moved far enough away, I could slip out from under the table and sprint for the swinging doors. I waited until his back was fully turned to me, the sound of his footsteps moving away. I shifted my weight on my knees, preparing to crawl. Suddenly, a massive, blood-soaked hand dropped down from above the table and clamped violently onto my shoulder. I screamed. He ripped me upward, lifting my entire body weight effortlessly with one hand. He threw me across the room. I hit a metal rolling cart, sending stainless steel tools crashing to the floor, and collapsed onto my back. The breath was knocked out of me completely. I looked up, gasping for air. The janitor was standing over me. His face was a mask of cold, predatory anger. His dark eyes were solid black, lacking any white sclera. Blood dripped steadily from his chin onto my medical scrubs. I scrambled backward on the floor, kicking my legs away from him, my back hitting the solid concrete wall. I had nowhere left to run. "Please," I choked out, raising my hands defensively. "Please don't kill me. I won't say anything. I swear." He looked down at me, his jagged black teeth exposed. The heavy, rotting smell of raw meat and old blood washed over me, making my stomach heave. He crouched down, bringing his face inches away from mine. "Do you know what I am, doctor?" he asked. His voice was no longer a growl, but a calm, raspy whisper. I shook my head frantically, completely paralyzed by fear. "I am a ghoul," he stated simply, "I consume the flesh of the dead. It is my nature. It is how I sustain myself." I stared at him, my mind unable to fully accept the impossible reality of the creature crouching in front of me. "I have lived in the dark spaces of humanity for a very long time," he continued, his black eyes unblinking. "For centuries, my kind dug in the dirt, breaking open wooden boxes, hunting in the mud and the rot. It was difficult, dangerous, and humans have always hunted us when they catch us." He reached out and grabbed the collar of my shirt, pulling me slightly closer. "But the world changed," he said. "Humans became organized. You built places like this. Massive, cold rooms where you gather your dead and lay them out on silver platters. You made it easy." "Why..." I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. "Why don't you just kill me?" "Because of the arrangement," he said. "I do not kill the living. Killing draws attention. It brings police, lights, and finally... hunters. I only take from the dead. Specifically, the liver. It is the richest organ, holding the deepest essence of the body. I take the liver, and no one notices. Your senior examiner signs the paperwork, attributes the missing tissue to decay or trauma, and the bodies go to the fire or the earth." The pieces began to click together in my terrified mind. The senior examiner knew. She knew exactly what was happening in the basement at night. That was why she was so strict about the six o'clock rule. She was protecting him, or protecting the hospital from him. "But what about the families?" I asked, desperation pushing the words out of my mouth. "What do you say to them in the viewing room? How do you stop them from crying?" The ghoul smiled. It was a horrific, skin-stretching grimace. "That is the price of the arrangement," he whispered. "A transaction. Grief is a heavy, toxic energy. It poisons the living. When I consume the essence of their dead, I create a void. I whisper the ancient words of transaction, and I pull their grief into that void. I take their pain, I swallow their agony, and I leave them with peace." He leaned back slightly, tilting his head. "I eat their dead," he said softly, "and in exchange, they do not have to suffer the weight of the loss. It is a fair trade. I get my meal, and your hospital gets a reputation for miraculously peaceful grieving processes. The administration ignores the me, the senior doctor turns a blind eye, and I eat in peace." "And now you broke the rule," he said, his voice hardening again. His grip tightened on my collar. " You are a loose thread." "No," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face. "I am not a loose thread. I understand now. I understand the transaction. You need me to process the bodies. You need me to sign the paperwork during the day so you can eat at night. I will help you. Just like the senior doctor." He stared at me for a long, agonizing minute. The dark, black eyes searched my face, looking for deception. I held his gaze, terrified, projecting every ounce of sincerity I could muster into my expression. I was begging for my life. "A new arrangement," he muttered softly. He leaned in close, his cold, wet lips pressing against my ear. "If you ever speak of this to the living world," he whispered, his voice vibrating directly into my skull, "I will not wait for you to end up on a metal tray. I will come to your home, I will tear you open while your heart is still beating, and I will eat you whole. Do you understand?" "Yes," I gasped, nodding frantically. "I understand. I promise." He released my shirt. He stood up slowly, the impossible height returning to his posture. He looked down at me one last time, a look of complete, predatory dominance. "Go home, doctor," he said, turning away. "The work is done." He walked back out the swinging doors, his heavy footsteps fading down the hallway toward the cold room to finish his meal. I lay on the floor of the autopsy suite for a long time. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. When I finally found the strength to stand, I stumbled out of the room, ran up the back stairwell, and burst out into the cold night air of the parking lot. I have not been back to the hospital since. I called in sick for the last three days. But I know I have to go back tomorrow. I know that if I quit, if I run away, he will think I am going to break the arrangement. He will think I am a loose thread. I am writing this here because I need someone in the world to know the truth. I need this terrible secret to exist somewhere outside of my own head, because the weight of it is crushing me. I am a doctor. I took an oath to protect the living. And to do that, to survive, I have to feed the dead to a monster. Tomorrow morning, I will put on my scrubs, I will walk into the morgue, and I will nod to the old janitor with the mop. I will do what is necessary to survive, so, I will never, ever stay past six o'clock again. submitted by /u/gamalfrank to r/stories [link] [comments]