Podcasts about footsteps

When a mother uproots her children and returns to her family's ancestral property deep in rural Arkansas, she hopes for a fresh start. But the woods surrounding the trailer, the attic no one sleeps beneath, and the silence that seems just a bit too intentional tell a different story—one the family has quietly passed down for generations. Footsteps where no one walks. Figures on the staircase. Rules about not stepping outside after dark.For years, the land's strange inhabitants stayed at a distance—seen, felt, or heard, but never approaching. Until one night, on a moon-washed back road, something stepped out of the fields and began to move toward them with a shape and gait that didn't belong to any world they understood. And the thing that followed them home wasn't the only presence waiting in the dark.This is a story about inherited hauntings, old land that never learned to sleep, and the night something from the fields decided to take interest in one family. Some places don't just hold memories—they keep watch.#realghoststories #hauntedland #creatureencounter #paranormalexperience #darkwoods #ancestralhaunting #nightcreature #supernaturalencounter #unexplainedphenomena #ruralhauntingLove real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Can the Philadelphia Eagles find a way back to the Super Bowl? Yahoo Sports' Andrew Siciliano sits down with wide receiver Jahan Dotson to talk about the Eagles' chances in the playoffs. But first, Jori Epstein joins Andrew to discuss the aftermath of John Harbaugh's firing and what it may mean for Mike Tomlin's future in Pittsburgh. Later in the show, the duo breaks down how the Raiders can rebuild with the No. 1 pick and Jerry Jones' handling of the defensive coordinator opening in Dallas.(4:00) - Fallout of John Harbaugh firing: Lamar Jackson & Mike Tomlin(24:00) - Jahan Dotson joins the show!(32:45) - Raiders starting their rebuild(44:50 ) - Jerry Jones mentions Venezuela in press conference(55:05) - Can Titans GM keep bias out of coaching search?(1:05:00) - One More Thing

When a mother uproots her children and returns to her family's ancestral property deep in rural Arkansas, she hopes for a fresh start. But the woods surrounding the trailer, the attic no one sleeps beneath, and the silence that seems just a bit too intentional tell a different story—one the family has quietly passed down for generations. Footsteps where no one walks. Figures on the staircase. Rules about not stepping outside after dark.For years, the land's strange inhabitants stayed at a distance—seen, felt, or heard, but never approaching. Until one night, on a moon-washed back road, something stepped out of the fields and began to move toward them with a shape and gait that didn't belong to any world they understood. And the thing that followed them home wasn't the only presence waiting in the dark.This is a story about inherited hauntings, old land that never learned to sleep, and the night something from the fields decided to take interest in one family. Some places don't just hold memories—they keep watch.#realghoststories #hauntedland #creatureencounter #paranormalexperience #darkwoods #ancestralhaunting #nightcreature #supernaturalencounter #unexplainedphenomena #ruralhauntingLove real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

She grew up terrified of the dark—but not in the way most children are. Certain rooms in her childhood home felt wrong. Footsteps echoed on the stairs when no one was there. Doors opened on their own. A wardrobe creaked open again and again, as if something inside refused to stay hidden. The house, built in the mid-1800s near Lake Erie, carried a history no one talked about. Years later, she learned it had once been an undertaker's home—bodies stored in the basement before burial. When the house mysteriously burned down on Christmas morning, she felt an unexpected sense of relief. But distance didn't bring peace. During college, terrifying episodes of sleep paralysis began—episodes where she heard three distinct voices mocking her regrets, laughing at her fear, and pressing down on her body as if something physical had taken hold. One voice felt familiar. Almost comforting. Until she told it to leave. Some places don't let go. #TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #SleepParalysis #ParanormalExperience #RealGhostStories #HauntedLand #ShadowVoices #MidnightEncounters #Unexplained #TrueParanormal  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

She grew up terrified of the dark—but not in the way most children are. Certain rooms in her childhood home felt wrong. Footsteps echoed on the stairs when no one was there. Doors opened on their own. A wardrobe creaked open again and again, as if something inside refused to stay hidden.The house, built in the mid-1800s near Lake Erie, carried a history no one talked about. Years later, she learned it had once been an undertaker's home—bodies stored in the basement before burial. When the house mysteriously burned down on Christmas morning, she felt an unexpected sense of relief.But distance didn't bring peace.During college, terrifying episodes of sleep paralysis began—episodes where she heard three distinct voices mocking her regrets, laughing at her fear, and pressing down on her body as if something physical had taken hold. One voice felt familiar. Almost comforting. Until she told it to leave.Some places don't let go.#TrueGhostStory #HauntedHouse #SleepParalysis #ParanormalExperience #RealGhostStories #HauntedLand #ShadowVoices #MidnightEncounters #Unexplained #TrueParanormal Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

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Torah Class - Parshat Shemot: In the Footsteps of MosesFrom the palace, through the sheepfold, to the question no one dared to ask.

Every year around Christmas, Palestinian Arabs, the Palestinian Authority, and other detractors of Israel use the Christmas season to promote lies of Jesus being a Palestinian, the first Palestinian, a Palestinian martyr, and other tropes that are baseless historically and according to Christianity. These tropes not only undermine the fact that Jesus was a First Century Jew and Jewish history, but undermine the very underpinnings of Christianity. This year, two years into the ongoing war that started October 7, where the war on truth is no less a problem. Dr. Michael Brown unpacks why this is wrong on all the levels prophetically, and it is a must listen for anyone truly seeking the truth. PLEASE DONATE TO THE GENESIS 123 FOUNDATION ISRAEL EMERGENCY FUND AT WWW.GENESIS123.CO Get information about how you can join FOOTSTEPS at https://genesis123.co/footsteps/For information about and how to register for Root & Branch, please go to www.RootandBranchIsrael.comConnect with the Genesis 123 Foundation at www.Genesis123.co and learn how you can host Shabbat in your community.FB - www.facebook.com/Genesis123Foundation Twitter - @Genesis123FIG - Genesis_123_FoundationFind out how you can be part of Run for Zion and bless Israel with every step at www.RunforZion.com.

Quaranteam - Dave In Dallas: Part 10 Dave & Olivia use skills meant for a last resort.Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Let's review the list of characters: David Belsus – 46, physics & astronomy professor at Eastfield college, a community college in the Dallas area. Prepper, survivalist, has a greenhouse in his backyard and lives in an outer ring suburb. Six foot, fit, short cropped hair. Lupie Ramos – 32, former financial advisor, Dave's neighbor, got caught out of state when the lockdowns started. She spent two frantic weeks trying to get back to her daughter. Lupie has been in love with Dave for over a year. Long, dark brown hair, medium build, and a lovely smile. Esme – 9, daughter of Lupie, prone to the occasional snarky comment. Adores Dave. Becca; 18, Lupie's babysitter, was watching Esme when lockdowns occurred. Her refusal to abandon Esme, as her mother insisted, likely saved Becca's life, since her extended family ignored precautions and died of Duo. Esme, Lupie, and Dave are all Becca has left in the world. Short, medium build, small tits, with short blond hair and a smile that is shy with strangers and beams with family and friends. Janice Wheeler; 33, Dave's first partner to arrive, a librarian at Cedar Valley, another community college member of DCCCD. Slender build and medium height, Janice is 3/4 Korean, her paternal grandfather is Anglo. Medium length black hair often pulled back in a bun for work or ponytail at home. Shawna Cooper; 36, senior meteorologist at WFAA, Master's degree in meteorology from O U, worked at NSSL and spent time as a storm chaser. Whole hog sci-fi nut, beginning with Start Trek TNG. 5' 10", large tits, medium brown skin, dark brown eyes, shoulder length black hair styled like a frizzy weeping willow. Olivia Tyler (Liv); 21, senior studying horticulture at Tarleton State University, near Dallas. Daughter of Carter and Janelle, Dave's best friends since college. Had a well-known crush on Dave throughout her teen years. Since her dad was former SF and a survivalist, Liv is skilled with several firearms as well as bladed weapons. Never failed to take a deer any season she's hunted. 5'10" long, dark brown hair, large tits, lightly tanned, brown eyes, and a wide smile. Melanie Ustanich; 22, graduate student in IT at Tarleton, Liv's roommate, recently found a passion for cooking. Spent most of her life in foster homes, Liv's parents accepted her like family the first time she went with Liv on Thanksgiving Break. 5'8" medium length auburn hair, green eyes, small mouth with a ready, mischievous smile. The ladies came through, leaving one mug beside the detective and swiftly exiting with the pot, several mugs, a milk jug, and a small container that may have just been repurposed as a sugar dish. Verratti pushed her mask up to her nose to take a sip, holding the mug like a sacred talisman, her eyes closed and a look of bliss dawning on her face. It was a short day. She opened her eyes and the distance they contained sent the brief appearance of joy below the horizon once again. Laying her mug back on the table, she pulled her mask back into place. "The man that was with you that day at the range?" "Yes, my friend Carter. He was the one that arranged the time on the range." "And how did he manage that? Didn't you say a few times he was a security guy?" "He runs physical and digital security checks for sites his company guards. He and his guys also get hired out by insurance companies to check out their client's security plans as well." For a moment, Dave allowed himself to forget the pain and use the present tense. "I think you mentioned a few times before class that he was in special forces?" "Yep. He likes to say his civilian job is kinda similar to his work in the army, just with paintball or laser tag gear." "Good." She motioned him to sit close, so she could speak lower. "You've stumbled into something no one seems to be working hard to solve." Dave's eyebrows stitched together. Her tone was more ominous than her words. "Nine weeks ago, a truck carrying seven vaccinated women was attacked. It was on its way to some rich neighborhood to deliver partners to the McMansion set. The attackers covered their tracks reasonably well, so we never caught them. Two weeks ago, a shipment of vaccine got hit between Grand Prairie and the Vax Center. They didn't even try to take the whole shipment, just grabbed a bunch and ran like hell. The chopper that was following them didn't have infrared on it, so they lost track of them in the trees in the dark." Dave stayed silent as she paused to gather her thoughts. "Look, I shouldn't have said any of this, but nobody's doing anything. Your friend has the skills to deal with the problem. And the way you've always presented yourself, if he's your friend, then he'll want to apply his skills to right a great big fucking wrong that's being ignored. There's an Air Force liaison office in the station right now. They're supposed to coordinate a military response to big attacks, but they've been blasé about both attacks." "Wait? Military to take out crooks? I mean, even big deal shit like this? Shouldn't that be done by SWAT or ATF?" She stared at him. If he had to guess, her lips were tightly pressed together under her mask. Her words were tightly spoken as she continued. "The fact your attackers cut their fallen buddies' nuts off suggests they had bonded female partners. That means either the hijacked transport, or the vaccine attack. Maybe both. And that means they may have been coming here to abduct your partners and bind them to themselves." "But that would kill them!" Dave started out as a loud interjection, but at her look, and as his own self-control kicked in, he dropped to a strenuous whisper. "There; is a way. But only if the man is dead. There was an ER nurse on the first transport. She would have known about the procedure, at least in broad terms." She pulled a map from her valise. Unfolding it, she pointed to two locations. The attacks happened here, and here." "Yeah, that stretch of I-20 is a bit empty, even being in the middle of urban sprawl." "Because of that attack, they moved the flights to Love Field." "No rural hideouts along the way." "Exactly. Now look, here's where the chopper last was sure they had an eye on them." Her finger indicated a spot southeast of Athens. "What I'm asking you is to get a hold of your friend. See if he and some of his team are willing to investigate; and maybe rescue some of these women. No one else is doing anything about this. And they are escalating." "Do you think they'll try again here?" "I don't know. Not anytime soon, you gave them plenty of reasons to give this place a wide berth. I can't swear to that, but I'd say they'll at least leave you alone for a while." Which means they may be coming for my family again. Whenever they feel like trying again. No point in telling her about Carter. I'll have to do this myself, but I'm not telling her that. A trained, former special forces operative that still does security testing is a reasonable person to ask to do this. A community college professor that's been trained by his prepper buddy doesn't sound nearly as reassuring. Fuck Carter, why the hell did you have to die? "How sure are you on that last sighting?" She flipped her notebook back several pages. After consulting her notes, she carefully laid her finger again on the map. "Right there." Dave stared at the indicated location, noting nearby major road intersections and the distances from each to the tip of her finger. Mainly, he looked at the roads that formed a boundary around the area. The raiders may not be inside that space, but it was a place to begin. "Be very careful. There's suspicion that some army deserters are with these guys." She took a deep breath. "It's like pulling teeth getting anything out of the Air Force woman about this. Please professor, talk to your friend. I'll contact you in a day or so to see if he's responded." "Why don't I just call you?" "I'd rather have that discussion when I'm not at the station or around other officers." "Okay. You need anything else from me detective?" "No. No, I should be going. I'll call in a few days." "I'll be ready." Hope I've found them by then . Dave walked her to the door and locked up behind her. He slipped over to the parlor to check the window patch for any air leaks. Dave ran his hand around the edges, slowly, but felt no movement, not cold streams. Some of the family had come downstairs, now that the weather was once again outside. Dave sat in a chair, staring off into space while the others red or talked. This may take more than a day, just to find these guys. And once I do, I'll need time to observe, and then time to plan. Food, water, ammunition. I'll need something long-range. My best bet will probably be picking them off one at a time at first. I've got silencers for the MP5's, but no subsonic ammo. It's still going to be obvious when I shoot. Carter has all the subsonic ammo. Imagine the look on the face of whoever finds his armory. Fuck, what if they just bulldoze the place? Yeah, Liv and I need to try and get his weapons and equipment. Wait, I have subsonic.22LR. I could use that for the first few. Fuck, I'm really doing this. That means I'll be gone for a few days. It's already been two days for Rebecca, and she's on such a short fuse. We really ought to ask the vaccine experts why that is. Gee, what a call to make. "Hey, vaccine guys? Yeah, look, I've got this eighteen year old cutie that just insists on having sex every four days. Like, she's climbing the walls by day five. What's up with that?" I'm sure they'll have all kinds of sympathy. Well, I have my first thing I've got to do before I go. Dave found Becca in the room she and Reena shared. The one they'd previously used as a 'hotel room' the night the ladies put together for prom. Reena was not around. "Hey, sexy nerd girl, what're you up to?" Becca rolled on to her back from her book reading. Her face was glowing, though she was also blushing from her scalp to, well, lower than her shirt collar. She very cutely bit her lower lip. Dave chuckled. "You are so damn cute, ya know that?" Her face twisted a little. "Demotion huh? I've gone from sexy to cute in less than a minute." "One does not preclude the other. There is an intersection of the two. In my opinion, you exist within that intersection." "God, you know how weirdly sexy it is that you can talk math about sex?" "You know how great it is that you're one of two partners I can talk to that way? Most of the others either won't get it, or will be turned off by it." The radiant look Becca got from the compliment was exactly what Dave was going for. She wasn't just a teen hottie, or gamer girl, or some other check box. She was his younger nerd partner that he got to introduce to so many things he loved that were new to her. Or, things she'd heard about, but not yet experienced. And she was fun in bed. Becca's hand slipped to the hem of her t-shirt. Dave stepped swiftly up to her bed and grabbed her hands. He pulled her around so her ass hung off the edge of the bed and her head was braced against the wall. She and Dave were still experimenting with different ways to have sex. She'd recently mentioned that quickies sounded kinda hot. Dave figured now would be a good time to try. He grabbed her shorts and panties at the hips and pulled both down to her calves, bringing her legs straight up in the same motion. Dave leaned against her, her ankles on one of his shoulders, as he unbuttoned his pants and shoved pants and boxers to mid-thigh. The aroma of Becca's arousal reached Dave's nostrils, matching the signal that her panting breath and lust-filled eyes were sending. Truth to be told, he was fairly revved as well. The little gasp she gave as he hand-fed his mostly hard cock into her saturated pussy was delicious. Dave leaned in closer, folding her legs back onto her body, her ankles on either side of his head, her shorts against his collarbone. He drilled her fast and hard. This wasn't love making, wasn't a tantric exercise, and was not 'the full Dave'. A quickie was just that; hard, fast, and get 'er done. Becca's cute little huffs and grunts urged him to keep going, her moist, rippling channel gripping his shaft and egging him on. In due time, Dave felt that familiar tingle in his balls rising up through his cock and he began firing his hot seed into her eager passage. Becca shuddered and convulsed the same as if Dave had taken most of an hour lifting her to ecstatic heights. Dave leaned a bit further in to kiss Becca tenderly on the lips. Becca giggled. "That was fun." "Good, we can add that to the repertoire," Dave said, buckling his pants. He leaned in for another kiss, this one with just a moment of lingering, before walking away. Becca's eyes shone brightly as they followed him. Now I wait. Dave spent the rest of the evening sitting with his ladies, sometimes talking, mostly listening. Lupie called everyone to the dinner table. A nice warm casserole that soothed the insides after most of the day with the inside matching the weather outside. Downstairs anyway. Mostly what Dave remembered from the evening was looking around the table at his family as they chatted and moved on from the events of the morning. Mostly. Every once in a while, someone's attention wavered, or they flinched from a sound. That's why I have to do this. Dinner was late enough that some began their night time routine once it was over. It had been a draining day, even for those that had huddled upstairs. The emotional impact, the fear and anxiety they'd gone through took a physical toll. "Hey, Shawna, let's meet in my office in a few minutes, okay? I'll find Liv and Mel and have them join us." "Sure. Night security?" "Yeah. The detective was reasonably sure there wouldn't be a repeat tonight, but let's be safe." "Okay." Shawna hugged him tightly. Dave went off to find the other two, then made his way to his office. Even though they'd just finished dinner, he felt a bit munchie. He pulled a half-eaten pint of blueberries out of his fridge and snacked slowly. Each woman smirked as they entered. Shawna started imitating the guitar intro of a certain song by Black Sabbath. Dave just shook his head with a rueful smile. Then he popped a few more berries in his mouth. "We need to maintain a watch tonight," he informed them once he'd cleared his mouth. "The threat is perceived to be low, but I'd rather not take a chance. I'll take first watch, then wake Shawna to relieve me. She can wake Liv, and when Liv's shift is over, she can wake Mel." The way Olivia stared at Dave made him wonder if she suspected his real plan, but she said nothing. "We'll post guard here in Shawna's morning room with the door open. It's right at the top of the stairs, so anyone would have to come past the guard to get to any of us. I'll drag the chair from that room to the door, far back enough that anyone looking in will see darkness, but near enough the guard can see the head of the stairs and part of the hallway in each direction." "That's it. Get some sleep. When it's time to switch over, get up and get moving. We'll have one pistol out and transfer that over. Don't go to bed until your relief is in place." Shawna came in for a kiss before she left. A long, slow kiss with no tongue. She looked meaningfully into his eyes before she walked out, saying nothing. Dave waited over an hour for all the activity in his house to settle and everyone to fall asleep. He slowly and quietly rose from his seat. He slipped in to the master bedroom to find Shawna on the outer edge of the bed. Of course she'd thought ahead so she wouldn't disturb the others. Dave lightly tapped her foot, and she stirred awake. Dave went back to his post while she dressed. Once she got there, he handed over the pistol. "You're going after them aren't you?" she whispered low and urgent. "Yes. It's the only way to ensure everyone's safety. These guys are a danger to us, and others. The detective was so frustrated with the inaction, she told me other events that have happened, but no response from the police." "Other houses have been attacked?" "No, the other attacks haven't been on houses, but they look related." "How far away are they?" "I don't know for sure. She gave me some information on the last place they were seen." "Then how long will you be gone?!" She kept her voice low to not disturb anyone, but there was a 'shouting' tone to her whisper. "I don't know. I'm taking food and water in addition to the rest of the gear." "David, please be careful. All our lives depend on you." He wrapped his arms around her for a tight hug. "I know. I'm doing this for your safety. No more middle of the night break ins." He paused for a moment. "Carter took me through a few scenarios that apply. We had to use paintball guns for those trainings, but I've spent plenty of time on the range with all of these weapons. I won't be as good as Carter, but I'm good enough to pull this off. I'm coming back to you babe." He pulled back so they could look each other in the eyes. "You are plenty of reason to come back." "Me and eight others," she said with a teasing grin. "Anyone of you alone is enough to go fight this fight and get my ass back here in one piece. I finally understand Carter now. Somethings you have to fight for." He slipped away from her and went to the master bedroom closet. In a box tucked away in a corner, he pulled out a set of lightly used 90's era BDU that Carter'd urged him to get from an Army-Navy store. It was not the only set, but he wasn't going to be gone that long. Hell, his partners would all be screaming for doses by then. After dressing, and donning his combat boots, he walked silently out of the bedroom. That he had to pause and prep his mind for. Carter had shown him how to walk quietly in these boots, it just took practice and care. It had been a long time, so he ran through the lessons and practices in his head for a minute after he had them on. He trod gently down the stairs to the gun closet. He typed in the code and swung open the door. That's when the darkness at the end of the unlit hall moved. "Go to bed Olivia." His voice was flat. "You are not going after these guys alone." Dave flipped on the light in the small space. The illumination spilling into the hallway revealed Olivia in a matching pair of BDU. "How the hell?" "I mailed myself a box to this address before I reported to the vaccine center. Mostly other stuff, but one set of woodlands and my best broken-in boots." "Livy, you need to stay here and watch the others." "I need to watch over your ass and bring you home so you can keep fucking all these women that are addicted to your cum." Dave felt a wave of shame at the comment. That he was risking himself, some, but their safety required he take out this threat. That he was; unfaithful to any of these women, because none of them were the only one. Yes, he could personally enumerate all the reasons why, but that didn't change the visceral reaction of a man that never wanted a lot of women, just one that he could be devoted to, and vice versa. "Liv ;” "I'm not trying to talk you out of this. I'm certainly not condemning you for having multiple partners, David. On behalf of myself, and all your partners, I insist I go with you and provide overwatch. You know I'm a better sniper than you. You're better at CQB. We do this together." A cold hand gripped Dave's chest. "Olivia, I already dragged you into one gunfight. I won't do it again." "You didn't drag me into anything. The world sucks and some people are assholes. The same guy that taught you raised me not to just stand idly by. I'm going with you." She came in close, molding her hand to his jawline. "You didn't cause the attack this morning. You stood in the gap, and I stood with you. What you're about to do is needed. And I'm standing with you again." Without another word, she slipped around him and started gathering her gear. Dave joined her. Within half an hour, they loaded tactical gear, ammo, weapons, water jugs, canteens, and field rations in Liv's pickup and got on the road. They were completely in sync, though neither spoke a word. Chapter 12; A Walk on the Chaotic Good Side. October 29, 2020 12:30am The hum of the heater fan on its lowest setting combined with the warm air coming off the windshield were not helping Dave maintain alertness. Livy drove while he checked their route against what he'd seen on the detective's map. So far, it was just a matter of 'drive towards Athens'. Dave snuck the window down a little, inviting some cool air to help him stay fresh. Not too far, though. Occasionally, they'd run into an isolated cloud still giving up a pittance of drizzle, remnants of what passed over their house yesterday morning. Mostly it was just cold. "I miss the little triangle windows that pivoted open on Dad's old beater pickup." Dave chuckled. "Yeah, those were useful. Guess somebody decided to save money and make them fixed instead of movable." Olivia humphed in response. When she said nothing for a few minutes, he reached into the bag on the seat between them and pulled out an apple. She didn't notice until he took his first crackling bite. "Damn. Again?" she laughed. "Fill up too much and you'll bust out that stab shirt. Sorry, it's just;” "I'm eating way more often than the rest of you, and not gaining any weight. Yeah, I know. They said this serum shit has weird side effects. Seems for me it's kicked my metabolism into the stratosphere." "Oh, big words like 'stratosphere' huh? Hmm, ya know, the higher metabolism would explain why you're outrunning me." Dave turned his head towards her, a mock annoyed expression on his face. "I've been faster than you for years. For a bit there in your teens you gave me a good challenge." Liv giggled. "I got faster so you'd have to look at my ass." "I worked harder to stay ahead of you so I wasn't looking at a sixteen-year-old's ass." Out of the corner of his eye, Dave noted Livy giving him a rueful look. With a quiet voice; and one eye on the road; she asked, "Is this the only way we could have been together?" His heart skipped a beat. His voice was deepened with loss when he replied, "I don't know, Olivia. I just don't know. The two of us together would have been a very unusual pairing in other circumstances. No law would have stopped us being together but a lot of custom and tradition would interfere." He reached his hand out and she took it. "So it was either this, or an asteroid hitting the Earth for me to get you?" Dave laughed. "Maybe not quite that dramatic." Their joined hands lay on the seat between them for a time, enjoying the union of their lives as the cold, damp miles passed. Half an hour later, signs proclaimed a junction ahead as they neared their first waypoint. "Want me to stay on 175 and go east around Athens?" "No, west on 7. When we get to the southside of town, we'll take 19 south." Dave waited before asking, "You need to switch out. We've both had long days." "I'm good. Just hand me another Dr. Pepper." Dave knee-stood in the seat, reaching back to the cooler with water, soda and reusable freezer packs. Ice would have been too loud loading at the house, and going to an automated ice station was more deviation than he was willing to take. The drinks weren't ice-cold this way, but they were at least cool. Between the caffeinated soda, and the No-Doz bottle in the glove box, they could fight off the drowsiness the road hum threatened to induce. Weirdly, the squeeze from the compression shirt for the stab plates helped keep him awake, though it did make it tougher to twist around for things. Maybe if he wore it more often, he'd know how to move better in it. With the late hour, and pandemic rules in effect, they hadn't seen another vehicle since pulling out of their own driveway. They crossed three overpasses for major roads out of town before exiting to southbound 19 / Palestine St. The creepy feeling intensified as they took their exit. The north side of the road held a hospital with what was undoubtedly the only ER for thirty miles around. In some directions, even further than that. And there was no activity at all. The lights were on. But no signs of human movement. A few miles down the road they passed the middle school, completely abandoned since March. Liv's hand slipped back to the middle of the bench seat. Dave added his to hers, holding her gently but firmly. Ten minutes later, with their headlights boring holes into the pitch black, Dave's phone buzzed. He pulled it out, noting the time was now approaching 2am. -There's been another attack, this time on a very rich man's estate. Bodyguards dead, left laying there. -Rich man dead, carried off, along with most of his partners. -Last seen southbound on 45, suspect they are taking that to 287 until Palestine. No intelligence beyond that. Please ask your friend to decide quickly. Dave quietly fumed. Another attack meant more suffering that he hadn't prevented. That was the whole point of this crazy scheme wasn't it? Immediately, he recalled a story Carter had told only once, after they'd been roommates for more than a year. It was a 'Boy's Night In' with two pizzas and a tsunami of beer, and some typical action flicks playing. Dave's friend related a time when they'd been too late to protect a local villager that had cooperated with the Special Forces team. The local government goons had not been kind to the collaborator. Or his family. "We found out too late, got there too late, not a fucking thing we could do. Not one fucking thing. Except," he raised his head so his bloodshot eyes were revealed, "we tracked the fuckers and took them out before they got back to their base. It was beyond our mandate. We were supposed to train only, not engage directly. We did it, and never talked about it." Track the fuckers down and take them out. Little wonder why that particular memory surfaced now. "Something wrong?" "Text from the detective. They hit another house. Successfully this time." "Oh shit. What are we going to do?" "What an old friend once told me was the only real option. Track the fuckers down and kill them." "Dad was such an eloquent man." Dave barked a laugh as he texted back. -We're already enroute. -We'll locate them on the run and track them to their base. -Thank God. -And thank your friend for me. Dave still saw no reason to inform her of his omission. Well, he felt a little guilty, but she'd get over it. Lupie on the other hand, might just tie him to the bed and spoon feed him between each woman's 'dosing' turn. Shawna might or might not help Lupie, but she was not going to help Dave avoid Lupie. Hell, by the time he got back, Lupie might be so worked up she'd chew him out exclusively in Spanish for over an hour. In between kisses and hugs because his dumb ass came home in one piece. Getting his mind back on the present, Dave pulled up a map on his phone. "This may make it easier to find their base. They're coming down 287. Previous attempts tracked them as far as Palestine. We'll intersect with 287 just outside Palestine, so we'll pick a good spot when we get there and wait. I suspect they will be an hour or half hour behind us." "K." Dave zoomed and scrolled on his map for several minutes. "There's a community college north of the intersection. It has a parking lot that will give us a good view, but far enough away we could miss something. There's also a gas station and a convenience store on the south of the intersection, on the west side that would give better views, but higher risk of detection. It's probably closed. If we're the only car there, it's going to be awfully suspicious; especially if we pull out right after they pass." "Don't worry, Dad gave me a few lessons on shaking a tail, and on tailing. Just before I went off to college, he even had me drive back country roads with no lights; on the road or car. If we can avoid getting noticed when we first pull out; by waiting 'til we can just see their tail lights; we should be fine." "Let's go for the convenience store first. If it looks too dicey, we'll move off to the college parking lot." Liv nodded her agreement. The silence that followed persisted until the intersection loomed. The community college parking lot had all of its lights on, as did the Exxon just south of it. The Valero on the west side and south of the intersection had its awning lights on, but no more. No lights were on around the convenience store south of the highway confluence. Even better, there were two vehicles parked in the lot. Liv pulled into a space near one of the other vehicles. But not too close. She killed the lights, lowered the windows halfway, and turned off the ignition. Both occupants of the truck surveyed first the near vehicle, then the more distant one, looking for any sign of occupancy. If these guys were good, they might have a lookout posted to watch for a tail. During the forty-five minute wait, neither their eyes nor ears detected any sign of another person in the parking lot. For that matter, there was no sign of anyone around the college, or in the gas station south of them. The station across the way probably had an attendant inside. A low rumble coming from the northwest initially alerted Dave and Liv to their approaching quarry. Without exchanging words, they each hunched down in their seats. Both were on full alert. Hunter versus hunter was a dangerous game. Of course, if one hunter doesn't know the other is around, so much the better. For the other at least. Five S U V, varying from mid-size to huge, rolled swiftly through the interchange. They slowed from far in excess of highway speeds, down to something reasonable for the possibility of merging; if one had incredibly sparse traffic to handle. Which worked just fine, since there was absolutely zero traffic to merge with. As the engine sounds began to fade, Livy sat up and started the engine. She quickly doused the lights that automatically lit up before backing out from behind the vehicle two parking spaces over. Hopefully, it shielded them from the target's notice. Well, that and the fact the targets were headed away from them, and presumably keeping hostages in check. With swift, smooth motions, Olivia got the pickup on the highway following the distant trail of tail lights. Noting the woodlands on both sides of the highway limiting visibility around the curves, Livy began rapidly closing the distance. Balancing that were the few streetlamps and the need to not show up in the last vehicle's rearview mirror. The train of S U V passed under one, went dark again except for the taillight; which brightened briefly; then were illuminated again for a flash before disappearing. "Shit," she muttered. "It's gotta be the underpass for the loop. That's why they went left and cut off. They went behind the embankment. Just take the loop to the left and keep pressing. We'll catch them. Just be careful of more street lamps. I'm not sure if this loop they're hopping on is limited access. If they hit stoplights, we'll need to be very careful to avoid notice." "Right." There were a few traffic lights to negotiate, but both were solid green the entire time the runners and the pursuers were in view. The greater concern was the street lights near the intersections. Increasing their following distance once a traffic light became visible bought them some grace. They also took the risk of allowing the convoy to get out of view over a small rise while they waited just outside the pool of light before making the left at Park Ave. That was followed by mild panic until they could catch up with their quarry. A sweeping left turn awaited just over the crest. Dave spotted tail lights turning right as they finally hit a straight section. It turned out to be another curve in the road. This road had just enough curves to allow Livy to close the distance and remain unobserved. As the pursuing duo came around one curve, the convoy ahead was disappearing around the next. Just as they cleared a shallow 's' turn, Dave spotted tail lights disappearing to their right. "Ease up, I think we're going off onto a narrower road." By the time they reached the turn, Liv had them at an appropriate speed. No sign of the convoy ahead, and greater darkness with the trees closer in, she had to go slower. Fortunately, the road was winding through a few tight turns which caused the convoy to go even slower. They managed to catch sight of taillights and hear engine noises through the trees before they got close enough to be noticed. The asphalt took a gradual rightward curve, but a faint red glow inside the dust cloud ahead signaled the convoy had plunged ahead onto the dirt road. Hunter and unwitting prey slowed again, but the frequent braking and the scattering effect of the dust kept Dave and Liv well aware of their quarry's position. Liv coasted and maintained distance so she never had to touch the brake. To do so would reveal their pursuit. The convoy slowed further and Liv allowed the truck to coast to a stop. "Let's find a place to park this thing and dismount." Dave pointed off to a small pocket beside the road where the trees curved away from the dirt track. Each opened their door gingerly, sliding quietly to the wet grass. Liv and Dave first checked their own gear, then each other's. Satisfied they wore or carried everything they thought they would need, they eased the doors closed, latching them softly. "One benefit of this weather; the gators will be hibernating, and maybe the snakes too," Dave said in a whisper. "Brumating. And probably yes on both counts. The gators will be in the water, but the snakes will find a burrow or hollow log. So stay away from likely hidey holes." "Yes, professor." Dave's wry grin was both smart ass and respectful. Liv's nature knowledge far exceeded his own. Her reply smile was appreciative. Then both faces went blank as the two focused on their mission. Using every technique Carter had taught him, Dave slipped stealthily through the trees. Crouching, he moved swiftly from bole to bole, taking care to avoid rock piles and downed logs. The red glow in the distance was diminishing. He noticed sets of tail lights lining up side-by-side before extinguishing. They were parking. That was a good thing, because Dave and Liv were already on foot. That also meant the possibility of guards on the perimeter. Dave paused a bit longer in his position, searching for any sign of patrols or stationary sentinels. Seeing none, he dashed forward to a new location and watched again for any sign of an observer. Liv moved from her prior spot to the place Dave had just vacated. Morning twilight was in full swing, so the pair had good lighting. Periodically, Dave observed men moving to each vehicle, removing a woman, and leading her to one of the buildings. A few men guarded the vehicles, but their focus was on the occupants, not someone outside. All the better. Dave and Liv found themselves places within whisper distance a few feet back from the tree line. Unobstructed views with low probability of getting spotted. In better circumstances, they would observe for hours, from multiple positions around the clearing, gathering information and striking in the wee hours, or at first light tomorrow. But; those women being taken inside compelled faster action. Whatever these assholes were doing needed to be stopped. At the same time, they couldn't just rush in, or they'd lose, Dave would be dead, and Liv would be dead or worse. And not long after, the rest of his family would be in very dire straits. So don't fuck up, asshole . This had to be what Carter meant about walking the razor's edge. One thing was clear; these guys had no security posted. The pre-dawn twilight was sufficiently bright that someone looking out the window would spot them if they got stupid. The trees opened up into a large clearing. Within the open space sat the parked S U V, two large buildings, and several smaller ones. The two large buildings were corner adjacent and perpendicular on their long axes. They were somewhat longer than they were wide. The large building stretched wide across their eyeline seemed to be where everyone was gathered. That's the building the women had been taken into. Several others converged on that location not long after. About half an hour after the last man disappeared into the big building, Dave and Liv spotted someone leaving. He had someone over his shoulder. He headed for one of the smaller buildings. About five minutes later, it happened again. Time to communicate. He pulled out his phone, already set to silent, no vibration. Fortunately, he had a few bars. -Compound located. Track my location. Stuffing his phone in his pocket without waiting for a reply, Dave slid closer to his partner. "I'm going in closer. I'll get under the windows and listen in." Liv's face was unconvinced. "Is that wise?" "We need to know more before we do anything. I've got to get close enough to hear them. Get your rifle ready to snipe. Keep me covered. I'll pass on the outside of the first building," he pointed to the one that lay along their line of sight and perpendicular to the target building, "and then cross along the near wall of the one they're in. You'll be able to see me for most of that time, and you can see either end. You'll know if someone's about to come around and spot me." "We need Dad's low watt tactical radios." "If wishes were horses, hun." He gave her a quick kiss, then silently backed further into the trees. This allowed him to move more quickly without detection, though he still remained on alert for any sentries out here in the trees. There were none. Approaching the tree line again, he scanned thoroughly with eyes and ears, for any sign of someone that would spot him emerging. With still no sign, Dave dashed from the trees to the near wall of the likely empty large building. There he waited, listening for any sound suggesting he'd been seen. His heart was pounding. He worked to calm himself so he could hear anything over the roar of the blood in his ears. Of course, that could just be the contrast. This rural fall morning was incredibly quiet thus far. Satisfied he was as yet undetected, Dave moved stealthily to the far corner of the building. He put a hand on the wall, feeling the rough brick exterior. It was distinctly not new, but not decrepit either. A few short steps brought him to the building's corner. Using the 'slicing the pie' tactic Carter taught him so long ago; and re-taught over and over and over; Dave passed around the corner to find no one there. Hugging the wall, he crept by, pausing at each of the two doors, listening for any sign of occupancy. By the time he reached the end of the building near the occupied building, the sun was not yet up, but the sky was well-lit. As was the compound. With more on the line, Dave took more time with his pie-slicing cornering technique. The rest of the compound, then the side wall of the other building, and then the back wall of the target building came slowly into view, all devoid of other humans. He slid carefully along the sidewall of the empty building until he was near the corner closest to his target. With his head only he once more rounded the corner, verifying no one had entered the small area bounded by the two buildings on two sides in the time he'd been behind the first one. Sure that he was clear, he crossed the gap to the second building. He watched his footfalls carefully since the area conjoining the two buildings had been cemented in a rectangular shape. Postholes along the edges suggested this might be some sort of outdoor area with an awning during warmer times. A broom at the corner Dave was heading for suggested someone took the time to keep it clear of debris. At least he didn't have to worry about stepping on a twig. Dave heard a door open, then close. Footsteps in grass reached his ears but receded. He swiftly slid along the wall to the front of the building and took a cautious peek. Once again, a man was walking toward one of the smaller buildings, this time carrying a woman in his arms rather than over his shoulder. Dave eased himself away from that corner and back to the corner proximate to the back wall. He had to step carefully around the broom again as he came around to the semi-enclosed courtyard. Dave eased his way carefully along the back wall. At least now he had the benefit of knowing Liv could watch the area around him and cover him as needed. He crept carefully, listening for sounds through the wall. Primarily though, he knew his best chances were under the three windows, two of which were close together, more than halfway down the building's length. As he approached an exterior vent for a dryer, he paused. For a moment the thought flashed through his mind that this would be the ideal place for a snake to hide. Then his rational brain took over, reminding him that the intermittent nature was likely insufficient to help a snake survive through the winter. They were more likely off in the woods somewhere or hiding in the walls of one of the houses. The first window was just past the vent. Dave paused. He waited for a few minutes, but heard nothing. He edged up, his face upturned, his nose turned away from the building. Edging upward, he allowed his peripheral vision a first glimpse in the window. It was dark. He turned his head slowly, seeking greater detail. A few shadows and a small light on the back wall limned out an empty kitchen space for a community. Efficient, but a little too regimented for Dave's taste. A little too zombie group think. Dave moved forward. This time he skirted around a pile of small diameter metal pipes. Must be for a future irrigation project or outdoor faucet. The next window was only a few feet past the pile. Dave had to be careful how far out he went. He crouched and quickly got back to the wall once past the pipes. He could already hear voices. Someone was angry. "I said sit the fuck back down. You dumbasses cost us three men with your half-assed raid. No, you don't get a shot at any of the women from this raid. You're lucky we let you fucking live. One more fucking word out of your fucking mouth and I will shit-can all your asses. And you, big mouth, you'll go last; after I ass fuck your sister without a new dose! You can watch her melt like somebody poured battery acid in her shithole, then I'll kill you, with the memory of her screams in your fucking ears!" Dave went cold. His mind called up one of the videos about the dangers for a woman exposed to the semen of any man other than her partner. Anger welled up in him, but he tamped it down. A berserker rage banged against the walls of Dave's discipline. He held his focus, knowing he would only accomplish his goal with cold efficiency. All the things Carter said over the years, words that had been whirling in his ears since the moment of the break-in, all settled into cold clarity. Yeah, they were gonna die. In due time. He crept closer. Again taking care to avoid detection, Dave saw a woman select a syringe full of a vibrant green substance. She moved over to; a dead body on the floor? What the hell? Why is she injecting the dead guy? Wait, now it's purple inside? Maybe he just misidentified the earlier color? The woman with the syringe stood. A man dragged a blonde woman over to a table near the lady with the syringe. Dave heard her whimpering once she was close. A second man took the woman's other arm. The two men held her pinned, face down, against the table as her whimpering turned to active cries. Dave's stomach turned over. A third man pulled the woman's pajama pants down. She wore no panties. The woman with the syringe approached. The way she walked, and the look on her face, gave the impression she was walking to the gallows. Dave swore she mouthed the word 'Sorry' to the pinned woman before injecting her with the purple contents of her syringe. Immediately, the woman jerked and thrashed. The man behind her dropped his pants. Dave dropped low, not needing to see anymore. Hell, he'd seen far more than he ever wanted to. The cries and sounds he heard had a certain resonance with the priming and later imprinting orgasms of his partners. But overlaid with a guttural, raw emotionality. Then there was no more sound from the woman. A few low conversations between the men, and then Dave heard the door on the other side of the building open. Dave duck-walked away from the window and around the pipes. Once against the wall again he raised up a bit and paused. He needed to collect his thoughts. What to do was clear. Kill every man here. Given what they were doing, there were no innocents. The only questions revolved around how to do what needed to be done. Ideas formed in his head, but he needed to confer with Olivia. At the very least, she needed to know his intentions. Teamwork would be vital. He also trusted her judgment. Her input could prove useful. It often did. Something more about Olivia was rattling around the back of his head. A thought jumping up and down, demanding attention, but not coming forward. Like a word sitting on the tip of your tongue you just can't say. Something he knew, but wasn't fully acknowledging. It didn't seem related to the immediate task, so Dave moved his attention elsewhere. The number of trips from the large building to the smaller ones was very nearly the number of trips from the cars to the big building earlier. That meant soon the men would no longer be occupied with; what they had been doing. Since some had recently come back from a raid, they were likely to bed down soon. That would be a good time to strike. Time to move and communicate. The door had cycled twice more during Dave's thinking. As he rounded the corner of the empty building, free to move unobserved, he heard the door slam open. He froze in place, a few steps past the corner, where he could listen without being detected. Multiple footsteps approached, and sharp mutterings between two men. The footfalls changed as they crossed from the grass onto the concrete. Their voices became clearer too. "Why drag her all the way out here? It's fucking cold and wet." "'Cuz I don't wanna clean up the fucking mess when the old bitch slags, that's why! Grass will just eat it up and get nice and green next summer. Inside, the carpet and the fucking pad have to be replaced." Dave's blood boiled. He tamped it down for immediate purposes. He also started moving back the way he came. Weapon at the ready, he rounded the corner again. Three figures were just crossing off the concrete pad and back into the grass. Two males in hunter camo and a naked blonde woman sobbing as they dragged her between them. They stopped several steps off the pad. One man was out of view, the empty building blocking Dave's line of sight to him. Liv surely had a good shot on him, but she might not yet know enough to take it. She'd know soon enough though. The man Dave could see was turned away from Dave, with the woman collapsed, on her knees in front of him, looking away from Dave also. By their orientations, the man that was out of sight was probably facing the corner and would see Dave the instant he came around it. Fortune favors the brave . One of Carter's favorite phrases. Dave slipped the MP5 back behind him, on safe, he pulled the.22 pistol from his holster, and the silencer from his cargo pocket, mated them gently, and carefully began screwing the silencer in place. The woman cried out, pleading for mercy. Unseen by Dave, the second man slapped her, the sound unmistakable. Dave was moving as the slap echoed. His face etched in stone. No anger in his visage, no mercy in his eyes. His weapon came up smoothly as his feet accelerated him along the wall towards the man in his vision. Dave was now a fire and maneuver platform for the pistol. Just before he cleared the corner, he fired three rounds, all into the man's upper left back. His shot group was as perfect as the practices with Carter over the years. At least one of the rounds went through the man's heart. The suppressor dulled the sound of firing, and the subsonic ammunition avoided the supersonic crack of the rounds that would surely draw attention. The stricken man fell even as Dave came around the corner, rounding on the next target. That man was just beginning to look towards the corner with a curious expression. Dave fired again. Three rounds, just as Carter had trained him. He also dropped with no further resistance or sound. The first target was on the ground and the second descending, knees buckling beneath a falling torso, when the shuddering blonde woman registered the changes. She began to rise and turn around. Dave reached her at that same moment, grabbing her bicep and hauling her to her feet. To forestall undesirable attention, he shifted his hand from her arm to her mouth, clamping it shut. He got there just in time. The woman stared at him, terror in her wide-open eyes. He held his pistol low and to the side, but her eyes ping-ponged several times from it to his face. As frightened as she was, her eyes settled, then roved over his face. Within seconds her terror was held in check. Not gone but shoved aside. Like she was ready to believe something less evil than that of the other men's plans was now upon her. "Stay quiet, I need to get you out of here." She nodded. Wariness was present, but also a willingness to believe in; something. Grabbing her hand, Dave led her across the concrete pad and around the corner of the empty building. He didn't stop until they'd passed the length of the building, now leaning against the short wall, in full sight of Olivia. In pausing, Dave was reminded consciously of what his subconscious had of course noted; the woman wore not a stitch of clothing. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before registering her phenomenal figure. Granted, the condition of her skin on her face and her body indicated a woman with more than just a few decades of experience on this little ball of rock, but she was none the worse for wear by any means. Fit was an entirely apt description. Her tits had a natural sag, but still bore a certain firmness as well as a modest heft. And her eyes. Her eyes were captivating. Penetrating even. They stared at him from a gently rectangular face. Modestly arched eyebrows topped those gazing deep green orbs, and model perfect cheekbones provided a pedestal for those eyes to rest upon. Shapely, proportionate lips still trembled slightly beneath a nose that was not quite angular, and more than a button. Her face would fit in on a magazine cover or a boardroom. A face that could launch a thousand simps. "Let's get into the trees. My partner, Olivia, is waiting for us. Once we get away from prying eyes, we can give you something to cover up with. What's your name?"" Her face warmed briefly even as her arms instinctively moved to shield her tits. "Natasha." Her voice was unsteady, but not weak. "That way, Natasha." Dave pointed to a small gap between two young trees. Nothing he'd seen suggested she was a plant or any other kind of trap, but with only himself and Liv, he realized there was no room for fuck-ups. He spent much of his time walking sideways, keeping an eye to their rear. They entered the trees easily and without getting spotted. Natasha immediately slowed, picking her places to step more carefully with her bare feet on the woodland surface. They proceeded straight back from the buildings, in reverse of Dave's approach. He caught her arm when they reached the point to turn left towards Liv. Pointing quietly, Dave directed her on the new course. She nodded and kept moving. A few steps later, things started getting exciting. "Oh, holy Shit!" Even before his head turned, he knew the speaker was in the same vicinity as the two bodies he'd left behind. Through the intervening trees, Dave spotted a man standing in the gap between buildings. He safed the pistol and started unscrewing the silencer. There was no angle in stealth anymore. Once separated, the pistol went back in the holster and the silencer in his cargo pocket. He brought his MP5 back around. The man circled the two bodies slowly. Dave quietly moved closer to Liv, until they could see each other. With her attention on him, Dave drew his hand across his neck, then pointed at the man still examining the space where his friends had fallen. He heard the report of the rifle at nearly the same instant the back of the man's head sprouted a jet of blood and tissue. Dave hustled the last several steps to Liv's position. Liv gave him a wry smile as she looked behind him. "Recruiting more ladies, David?" As Dave began to object, her smile dropped. "I saw the whole thing. I didn't hear what was said, but they had it coming, that's for sure." "Yeah well, we need to get her warm and clothed. And still deal with these guys." "I've got spare clothes in the truck. Let her hide inside. At least get her out of the elements." Two men appeared, one on either end of the occupied building. Dave, Liv, and their charge were too deep in the trees for the men to spot. Besides, they were focused on the three bodies they could see. "Okay, I'm going to get her in sight of the truck, and then head down the backside of that building," Dave pointed to the empty building. "Got it. So, do I let these guys go back inside?" Do I tell her to take the shot? We're already all in here . Something in Dave went cold. "Once they turn back, take the shot." Liv merely nodded, her attention, earlier divided between her scope and Dave, was now fully downrange. Dave ushered Natasha along a tiny foot path, giving her some ease in foot placement. He tried to keep his eyes off her naked form, but when she jumped at Liv's first shot, the jostling of her tits was magnetic. He turned his eyes away quickly. Fortunately, he was able to spot the truck at this range. "We're going to have to work quickly to shut these guys down. Can you see that white patch through the trees?" Dave pointed in the direction he wanted her to look. Natasha nodded. "That's our truck. The door is unlocked. Get in there and get out of the wind. That will help you warm up some. Liv says she has a change of clothes behind the seat. Take a quick look to see if you can find a shirt or something. Then stay low, stay out of sight." The woman nodded again. "You are leaving me?" "I have to stop all of them before they hurt anyone else." Another shot rang out. She lunged at Dave, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was alarmed for just a moment, but he felt the shaking of her silent cries. She jolted again with the next shot. He gave her several seconds, then peeled her arms off of him. "I have to go." With that, he turned and hustled to a spot along the tree line proximate to the edge of the empty building. He was still covered by trees when he spotted a man moving toward him along the building. He's trying to flank Liv . Dave took up a firing position braced against a tree. Then he fired three rounds. The man dropped without a sound, though the shots echoed through the compound. Another crack from Liv's rifle announced her continued engagement with their opponents. If Dave didn't get engaged soon, they could overwhelm her. He sprinted across the gap and raced down the building's length. Another shot rang out. Dave reached the corner of the building, breathing hard, heart pounding. He heard feet slapping concrete and then go quiet. Swiftly turning the corner, he saw two men sprinting away, through the gap between buildings, and one more passing the other end of the building in the distance. Then another came around the corner near him, the follow-on to the two with their backs to him. He noticed Dave as Dave's SMG reached chest height. Dave's trigger finger pulled three times, smoothly, in quick succession. Three widely spaced red spots erupted on the man's chest. He fell against the wall and slid down. The man's weapon clattered to the concrete pad. Immediately, Dave shifted to the men headed away. One was beginning to turn. Dave fired on him first, this time with his weapon fully raised, taking aim and grouping his shots. Dave shifted to the second man that hadn't yet keyed on Dave's position behind him. With three rounds in his upper chest while running full tilt, the man tumbled to the ground. While Dave was taking out his targets, he'd registered two shots from Liv's rifle. That meant ten men in total they'd killed. But how many were there? At least ten, since the S U V had two men each. What Dave didn't know was how many were left behind to hold down the fort while the attackers were out. As he mulled over the issue, he dealt with two more immediate concerns. His weapon locked open on his last shot. He triggered the magazine release with his right, catching and removing the spent magazine with his left. Quickly, he stuffed the empty mag in his cargo pocket before pulling a fresh magazine from his tacvest. With a fresh magazine in place, he pressed the bolt release, driving a new round home. To be continued in part 11, Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts, for Literotica.

The week after Christmas can feel strangely heavy. The celebration is over, the quiet settles in, and the weight of a new year starts pressing in. In this episode, John reflects on the line from O Holy Night that hit him in a new way, “a thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,” and why this sacred pause between Christmas and New Year's is meant for hope, not anxiety. He challenges listeners to make a simple “holy list” with three focus points: one thing to let go of, one thing to heal, and one thing to build, so you stop trying to fix yourself through self-reliance and start letting Jesus heal what is actually broken. Learn more about our pilgrimage: Walk in the Footsteps of Pope St. John Paul II with John

Quaranteam - Dave In Dallas: Part 9 A talk with a detective leads to a decision. Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels. Jan visibly relaxed as she followed Dave out. Olivia was checking in with Shawna and Mel. Dave waited until it looked like Liv had reached a stopping point in her conversation, then signaled for her to come back up. "Dave, how long until the cops get here?" Shawna asked. "Patrol isn't coming. Said since we aren't in immediate danger, they'll focus on 'higher priority calls and get to us when they can'. Which means they aren't coming. A detective will come out to investigate, but that will take time." "How much?" "Dunno. I have a plan though. I'll talk it over with the others and hash out the details. I'll come back out and fill you two in shortly." "Okay." Mel replied. "I'll call Mitchell. See if he can cover for me. He already has morning shift. Between him and April, they can manage for a day." "You sure?" "He's ready to work without a net for one day at least. Probably longer, but I don't want to fry his nerves unnecessarily." "You're a good boss, babe." Dave gave her a quick kiss, then charged back up the stairs to Esme's room where Lupie, Nessa and Olivia waited, with Esme and Roscoe of course. Currently, Esme had her face buried in the big dog's neck, giggling. As Dave took and held each ladies' hand briefly, he heard Jan come in with Becca and Reena in trail. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. We'll take pictures to document the damage and the bodies. Then we'll make repairs. We've got four people with weapons skills. Until the breaches are sealed, at least two of us are armed, on sentry duty downstairs. Once we've got the holes patched, at night at least, we'll go to one person on guard." He paused a minute so everyone could absorb what he'd said. "Does anyone have a good digital camera? We should use something other than cellphones if we can." "Depends on the camera and the user," Mel said. "Unless someone's had classes in photography, they're probably better off using a high-end phone camera." "Does anyone have a high-end phone camera?" Dave asked. "I know mine is decent, but not great." "Mine's pretty good, Liv's too." The other just shrugged. "I have a couple of good digital cameras at my office." Nessa replied. "Listings without photos don't do so good. The cameras are the best available last year, so they should show all the needed detail. I took classes at the El Centro to learn how to make the most of them. Well, the classes were three years ago when we different cameras. We got new, better ones last year." Dave nodded, then thought for a moment. "Okay, I'll escort Nessa to her office for the camera. We'll document everything. Then we'll assess the damage and figure out what we need for repairs. Liv, you and Mel will go to the hardware store for the supplies. Watch your; " his eyes flitted to Esme, "butts. If anything looks sketchy, get back here, supplies or no." Olivia nodded. "Just keep the same in mind yourself." Lupie gazed at him like she wanted to burn Liv's words into Dave's mind. She was not alone. "Vee, we should get going as soon as you're dressed. I don't think you want to go out in the cold drizzle in silk peejays." Vanessa smirked, rising to go change. "I'll be in shortly to grab a coat." As Nessa walked out, Dave sat down beside Lupie. Neither said a word, he just folded his arms around her as she leaned into him. Her shoulder pressed against his chest. Her head settled into the crook of his neck. Dave stroked her other arm, from the top of her shoulder, all the way down to her elbow, slowly, gently, hoping to give her the reassurance that no words would convey. He looked up to see the imploring look in Jan's eyes. With a flick of his own eyes, he signaled for her to sit on his other side, which she promptly did, leaning against him. Lupie reached out to softly grasp Jan's hand. The two sat on either side of Dave, just feeling his presence. While the other two snuggled against him, Dave made eye contact, individually, with Olivia, Becca, and Reena. Liv, while still working through some understandable nerves, seemed otherwise okay. Rebecca looked worried but trusting. Kareena looked like she was on the verge of losing it. Dave waved her over. Reena rose from where she was sitting on the opposite side of the room and streaked over to sit in Dave's lap. Lupie and Jan both made space for the younger girl to sit. The hands that they clasped together, rejoined, encircling Reena. Meanwhile, Reena buried her face in the crook of Dave's neck. Dave's eyes fell on Becca and Liv, the only two of his partners in the room not already huddled with him. Becca looked worried, but trying not to intrude. Not surprising for her, but not an accurate assessment of how Dave or the others would feel about her joining in. Quite the opposite of course. Beginning to understand Becca's feelings of inadequacy, was, however, shining an uncomfortable light on Dave's own lingering personal demons. Then there was Livy. The one that stood by him, protecting the others as the barbarians stormed their gates. He could see the conflicting emotions bounding across her face. She needed this comfort as much as he did. Today was the first time either of them had fired a shot at another human being. Dave waved them both over. "Let's make some space for Liv to sit here. She's got to be pretty spent too." Lupie looked at him plaintively. Like she knew the rightness of what he suggested, but some selfish part of her, that was losing, did not want to move. She did. Then she wrapped her arms around Olivia. "If it weren't for you, he would have been all alone down there, Liv. Thank you." Lupie hugged the younger woman closely. Olivia leaned back into her, while staring at Dave. That's when she started shaking. Dave tried leaning into Liv, But he still had Reena on his lap, and Jan on his other side. Becca, not yet in the cuddle pile, knelt in front of Liv, stroking her thighs soothingly, not erotically. "If you start singing soft kitty, Becca, I swear I'll drop you from the roof." Though Olivia's voice was unsteady, her essential snark came shining through, evoking the laughter she was seeking. None laughed harder than Becca, who threw her head back, snorting hard, with a wide grin that suggested Liv might have been prescient. "Okay, okay ladies," Dave said as the laughter subsided, "I need to go tell Shawna and Mel what's going on, get a coat, and escort Vanessa to get that camera." He patted Reena's leg. She immediately rose halfway up and slipped over to sit beside Liv, sandwiching the brunette between herself and Lupie. Dave addressed the room. "On security issues, Liv's in charge." He fixed his eyes on Olivia. "You know the drill; two on duty, one off, staggered relief. No one downstairs except guards for now. Well, people will start getting hungry once the nerves wear off, so let Lupie and a helper in the kitchen to make something." "And two more helpers at the end to carry everything else up." "Yeah." "And have the third in the kitchen on guard during cooking time." "Yup. and the guard is not doing anything but guarding. Just do your best to keep the guards rested and alert. Hopefully it won't take more than an hour or two to get the camera, but we'll maintain the watch while we document and repair." Liv nodded, as did Lupie and Jan. Nessa opened the door just then, smartly dressed for the weather in jeans and a stylish but sturdy jacket, and Dave's coat in hand. "Thanks, hun." Dave said as he approached her. "Let's go tell Shawna and Mel what's going on, and then head out. We'll take Liv's S U V." The brunette gave a thumbs up from the midst of the loose cuddle the family sat in. Esme and Roscoe had joined them. "Oh, and make sure Lupie and anyone else that cross the living room knows to steer clear of the broken glass, both to preserve evidence until we document it, and spare their feet." Passing Shawna, Dave motioned her to follow him part way down the stairs, then signaled Mel to come up and meet them. The looks on their faces as Dave spoke morphed from incredulous at the dispatcher's comments, to mild worry and trust when Dave explained his plans. Shawna stood up as Dave did, hugging him tightly. In his ear she said, "You be careful. I just got you, baby. I need you, and not just because of the serum." She punctuated her statement with a kiss on the lips that clearly wanted to linger, but self-control did not permit. "Escorting Nessa, armed, is just a precaution. I really don't expect any more trouble. We just need to be smart about this; be ready if something does happen." The first part was to allay their fears, the second to bolster their vigilance. Two steps down, Mel gave Dave a hug as well. "Just come back. You hear me? Come back to us. I don't want to change families anymore." Dave picked up on the allusion to the constant moves while in foster care. He hugged her tightly. "I promise, Red." Then he adopted a bad Austrian accent. "I'll be back." Mel giggled and smacked his shoulder with a wry smile. She followed Dave and Nessa down the stairs until she reached her station. The other two continued through the house and out through the garage. Liv's vehicle was in the driveway and it would have been much shorter to just go through the front door, but Dave was trying not to pass through any portion of the crime scene until after they'd documented it. Nessa drove. For one thing, it was her office, and Dave didn't know the way. For another, in the passenger seat, Dave could scan all around the vehicle, keeping a constant watch. He meant what he said earlier, the risk was likely zero now. Still, caution would be far better than getting caught unawares. Again. The streets were empty of course. While that should have lowered Dave's anxiety levels, the current risk factor was not the only thing that could gnaw at him. Dave had nearly a hundred hours of practice at shoot / no-shoot ranges, hundreds of hours of raw target practice, and had successful hunts every year he'd gotten a license. And no, despite all the bullshit coming out of those idiots at PETA, shooting a deer was not the same as shooting a person. Not even close. What they only knew as a pseudo-intellectual exercise Dave now had logged as real life experience. He didn't regret it. They were attacking his home. They broke in, in the middle of the night, carrying arms. Their intent was unknown, but there were no innocent reasons fitting those facts. But they were dead, at Dave's hands. And Livy's. He needed to find a way to console her, help her through this mental minefield even as he tried to navigate it himself. The look on her face as he left hovered in his mind. What had he led her through? Maybe he should have taken the low position on the stairs, and had Liv wait at the top of the stairs as backup? Then maybe she wouldn't have to have fired a shot? Maybe he could have fired quickly enough to hold off the attackers on his own. Then Liv wouldn't have to carry the burden she now had. "Babe?" Vanessa called out. Seeing no change in Dave's face, she tried again. "David? Honey, can you hear me?" "Huh? What?" "You're spiralling. I'm no expert, but that look. I've seen it before. A couple of our younger realtors are vets." "Not the same. This was a single incident that only lasted a few minutes. Those guys lived in hell for months." "Only one has chosen to open up to me, but it seems it's only a few minutes that the mind can't let go of." Dave kept his face stony and doubled down on his scanning. What could he have missed while his brain was wasting time with obsessions? "David, please don't run away on me, on us. We need you. You've been a good man for us every step of the way." Her voice got shaky as she continued. "We needed you this morning, and you stepped up. I've never been one to consign manliness exclusively to feats of strength or military prowess, but those are included. What you did this morning was another way to show your love. You stood between us and harm. You took the risk, and I am grateful for that. I know the others are too." Dave didn't reply, but did take a deep breath. The rest of the ride passed in silence. It took forty-five minutes to reach the realty office. Since most were working remotely; or dead; the place was empty. Dave followed Nessa in as she went straight to the cabinet and extracted a camera and a fresh memory card. Then they headed right back out. As she was locking the outer door, her stomach rumbled. Dave chuckled. "Maybe we should swing through a drive-thru for some breakfast. Any preferences?" "I'd really like a coffee. I think I saw an open Starbucks three blocks back. I don't know if they're working in bubbles; like a fixed group for each shift; or maybe they got dosed already, but they're lit up. A big coffee and a pastry and I'd be fine." The lobby doors had large "Closed, Use Drive-Thru Please" signs. Nessa pulled in and placed her order, then looked over at Dave. "Almond croissant, bacon gouda sandwich, and; a trenta pink drink. Easy ice." The look on Nessa face was priceless. She managed not to laugh, or say anything, just turned to the speaker to relay the request. While they were waiting their turn in line, she reached her hand under Dave's chin. She pulled him toward her, even as she leaned in, giving him a long, slow, loving kiss. "The man that can hold off armed assailants in the middle of the night, with no warning, doesn't need to be embarrassed about what he drinks with his breakfast, baby. You've certified your manliness in so many ways, even before this morning." Tears rimmed the bottom of her eyes. Dave was just brushing away her tears, trying to think of something to say when the car behind them honked. The car ahead was now two car lengths away. Both settled back into their seats. "Thank you," Dave said huskily as she edged forward. They passed the remainder of the return trip in silence, though a few meaningful glances were exchanged. Shawna and Mel left their stations and met them in the middle of the living room as soon as the two heard Dave and Nessa coming in through the garage. Dave had also texted as they turned on to the right block. "Upstairs, now mister." Shawna's voice was stern, uncompromising. "What?" "I didn't think about it before you left, but these guys might be carriers of Duo. We're vaxxed directly, but you're only safe through us. The briefing we got was clear; if the man we're bonded to is exposed, or even potentially exposed, renew his immunity with sex. Lots of it. Nessa and I will start documenting. Liv and Mel will stand guard." Footsteps on the stairs announced Olivia's descent. "Go on. Becca and Reena are in the spare bedroom waiting. Others will rotate in. You don't have to finish in us for your immunity. Once we gush, with or without you, switch to the next girl." "But y'all won't get your dose that way." "That's not the concern right now. Your immunity is. Go on." Dave recognized that tone, plus the looks in every eye present. He was sure the looks of those not present would match. Sure enough, when Dave opened the door to the bedroom, he saw his two youngest partners already waiting. Becca, her blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, small, pert tits standing out proudly as she kneeled on the bed wearing nothing but a smile. Reena was identically attired, her warm brown skin and large tits the most notable contrast with her friend. Dave began stripping off his gear and clothing, double checking that his pistol and smg were on safe, even though they had been for a few hours now. He set his weapons away from the bed, but further from the door than the bed. Coos and sexy comments from the girls had him half-chubbed by the time he pulled off his boxers. "Oh, yeah baby. That's what I'm looking for." Reena purred. She pulled Dave's face down to hers and locked his lips in a passionate kiss. Dave immediately began stroking her sides, then moved to caress her lush tits. As his hands contacted her big soft mammaries, Reena hummed. Dave pushed her back onto the bed. Whether this or his fingers grasping her nipples caused her to gasp is anyone's guess. Dave settled himself between her thighs. He felt a hand grasp his cock and notch it in Reena's entrance. Then a small hand delivered a soft slap on his ass. He felt Reena's hand reach around his back, but never saw the thumbs up she gave to Becca. That hand immediately switched from signaling to grasping as Dave's cock surged into her wet and waiting pussy. "Oh, fuck yes. Fuck me, David. Fuck me with that magic fucking cock." She started nibbling on his earlobe as he drove in and out of her slippery passage. It was one of his 'drive me wild' spots. His thrusting rapidly accelerated in speed and power. He raised up, taking his ear out of her reach, but her lascivious smile and her bouncing tits provided incredible visual stimuli. Reena managed a few encouraging erotic words, but quickly devolved into grunts and moans as his animalistic attack on her eager vagina brought both of them to the edge of ecstasy. She got there first. Barely. Her rippling inner muscles touched off his eruption, in turning kicking her into a second orgasm just as the first was reaching its maximum. The power of the doubled orgasm drove the air from her lungs and all thought from her mind. She clutched Dave fiercely with her arms and legs, claiming him as an anchor as pleasure wracked her body. She finally relaxed, flopping back to the bed, panting. "That; was; Awesome!" Dave sat up, his ass on his heels. Then Becca grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to half-turn so she could kiss him. He could feel a turmoil of emotions in that kiss. He brought his hands up to grasp her shoulders while his tongue tangled with hers. Dave barely felt the washcloth Becca slipped under his cock as he slid out of Reena's ravaged little hole. Reena grabbed it to capture any leakage. Meanwhile, Becca pushed Dave flat on his back and straddled him. She leaned down to kiss him again. Then Dave felt an extra hand on his mostly hard shaft. It was elevating him to Becca's hot, moist, little pussy. Reena was returning the favor. Becca sat back slowly at first, until Dave was seated in her entrance. The stimulus of the kiss, the hand on his cock, and Becca's small tits and tiny nipples rubbing his chest had him nearly full hard again. The young blonde's eyes fluttered slightly as she eased her way onto Dave's rod. Probably leftover semen on me setting off a serum reaction , Dave thought. Becca grasped his shoulders with her hands as the ripples passed through her. The effects of the brief exposure ran their course quickly. She sat up, bracing herself on his shoulders as she slowly began to ride him. Her eyes locked on his. Her hips bounced and rotated and snaked, all while Dave's cock stayed buried within her. Dave reached up, grazing her torso with his palms until he cupped her petite and alluring tits. He began massaging the lovely mounds with his palms. His fingers rubbed, rolled, and lightly pinched her nipples. Dave felt the bed shift, and then heard the door click shut. Reena must have slipped out of the room. He returned his attention to Becca, fixing his eyes on hers. So much life was there, waiting, yearning, to become. Her face bore worry; understandably; but something more. It was the something that gave him peace with their relationship, despite his natural doubts about their age difference or himself. He curled up to kiss her lips, which she returned before he lay back down. Her sleek body hammered up and down on his cock, the motions getting increasingly rapid. Her breathing grew ragged and punctuated by moans. She slammed herself down one last time, fully seating Dave inside her as pleasure shot through her body. Dave lowered the exhausted girl to his chest and held her while she caught her breath. Her fluids saturated his cock and leaked slowly out around their joining. A discrete knock preceded the door opening quietly, and closing almost as quickly. Almost imperceptible footsteps approached the bed. The silence of a librarian. "Becca, time to switch." Said Jan in her usual soft voice. "Try to understand, he's a magic man." Her voice was slightly muffled as her head was slightly mushed against Dave's chest still. Both adults chuckled. Then Dave said, "Been watching seventies music on MTV?" Becca nodded. "Mostly concerts since they didn't make many videos back then. People wore weird shit back then." "Hey, I was a kid in the seventies. Those people were my parents, aunts, and uncles." "No more stalling." Jan said in her firm voice. Becca slid up, so that Dave slipped out of her, then clambered off the bed. She immediately grabbed a washcloth, from a stack the ladies must have staged there. House Belsus had no shortage of women that could plan ahead, in detail. As Becca cleaned herself, Jan cleaned up Dave. Then she climbed over Dave to lie between him and the wall. Dave looked at the light tan blouse and mid-thigh, navy blue cloth skirt she wore. "Overdressed aren't we?" Jan's eyes twinkled as she took Dave's hand and placed it high on her thigh, under her skirt. Taking the hint, he slid his hand up her leg, finding her happy place bare and wet. The next hour became a blur as Dave's lovers each took turns 'topping off' his immunity. Well, except Niki. She'd only arrived last night, and was still in her imprinting sleep. When Dave and Shawna; who had been the last in line; had finished cuddling afterwards, they dressed, grinning at each other like a couple of teens that had the house to themselves. A quick kiss and they left the room. As they stepped out, Shawna leaned back in and gave a sniff. "We're gonna need to light a candle in there. Several candles. And lay down some carpet deodorizer." "That's a later problem. Right now I want to check in on Niki, then see how things are going downstairs." As they walked, Shawna spoke. "Well, Nessa and I photographed everything in excruciating detail. Multiple frames, multiple angles. Both breaches, and each corpse, along with the blood trails. She even took close up photos of each man's fingertips and captured decent images of the fingerprints." "Good enough for id purposes?" Dave asked as he opened the door to the master bedroom. "Dunno. Hopefully. We'll see what the police say." "They'll have the bodies to print the old fashion way." "Yeah, couldn't hurt though. Besides, we copied all the images on a second memory card. We're keeping that and handing over the original. Mel swears there's no difference in file integrity." Dave stood by the side of the bed, reaching out to place the back of his hand against the cheek of Niki as she slumbered. She was warm, but not feverish. He pulled back the blankets to examine her legs, remembering their discussion the night before about her injury. There were lots of flaked off skin in the bed surrounding Niki's legs, and some kind of residue along her legs as well. "Best to wait until she wakes to clean her up David. We don't want to disturb her during imprinting sleep." "But we can't wake her during it, no matter what we do." "Still, whatever's going on could be a delicate process. Let's err on the side of caution hun. Let her heal, then we'll help her cleanup later." Dave nodded his agreement and neatly pulled the covers back over Niki's sleeping form. As he adjusted the bedding, Shawna spoke. "Let's go see if Lupie's managed to get the glass out of the carpet to her satisfaction." A wry grin grew on Dave's face. "Is anything ever clean to Lupie's satisfaction?" he asked as they hit the top of the stairs. "When it comes to glass shards in carpet, I'm a fan of Lupie's exactitude." "Fair point. Hey, has Roscoe gotten out yet?" "Oh yeah. We took him out through the garage after you and Nessa left. Esme and Liv walked him around in Lupie's yard 'til he settled down and did his business. Then they played for awhile. Mostly Esme played with him while Liv kept watch." "Bet he loved that." "Yeah, those two are like peas in a pod now." Shawna said as they reached the floor of the living room. Dave walked over to Lupie, who leaned back onto her heels from her work looking for glass shards. The overhead lights were off. She had a flashlight in one hand, using the glint from the shards to locate them. She tilted her head up and Dave gave her an appreciative kiss. "I think he likes her more than me at this point," Liv groused from her position against one wall of the living room. "Aw, he's not replacing you. He just has a new buddy to have fun with." "Yeah, yeah. I'm still getting replaced by a younger model." Shawna rolled her eyes and snickered. "Oh, yeah, you're such an old hag, Liv." Olivia's only answer was a smirking scowl. Dave motioned Liv over to a quiet corner of the room. "How are you holding up?" "I'm okay," she said in an uncharacteristically small voice. "The others kinda dogpiled me for awhile. It's just; it's not like I thought it would be." Both were silent for a minute. "Dad did stuff like that for years." Her voice started to crack. "How? I mean shit, now I get why he was so strict on some things, or why he would get distant. How the fuck wasn't he a bigger asshole?" As she started to shake with sobs, Dave wrapped his arms around her, tears streaming down his own face. Lupie noticed and came over, with other members of the house following to join a group hug. It wasn't even noon yet, and already a very long day. Chapter 11; A Nudge. October 28, 2020 9:15am After Livy's entirely understandable emotional outburst, Dave suggested she remain at the house while he escorted Mel to the hardware store. Liv stomped that idea down, hard. "I will not leave my duties for someone else to perform. I thank all of you for your support. I'm okay. My dad didn't raise me to leave people hanging." The facial expressions several of them shared indicated a mutual desire to object to that particular characterization, and a mutual recognition of the futility of any words they could say in that cause. Liv was calm and collected when she and Mel left, both of them armed and masked up. Each wore full-length pants, long sleeves and gloves as well, to maintain the appearance of quarantine protocols. The NDA's they'd signed were still in effect, so they couldn't give anyone a reason to wonder why they were not concerned about the virus. All the gear they wore managed to dwarf Melanie's medium frame and curves, but nothing could hide Liv's large bust. That and the contrast of Liv's milk chocolate brown hair with Mel's auburn locks allowed the others to distinguish the two as they walked out. A few texts from Mel to Lupie kept the family reassured they were both fine while they were out. Liv drove, using the argument that she'd had combat driving training with her dad. He'd slipped her in when one of his security teams were going through annual training. Still, getting the lumber and fasteners to make temporary fixes for the broken window and sliding door took the better part of an hour in-store. The drive itself was short. While Liv and Mel were gone, Dave gathered a couple of sawhorses and tools from the garage and set up on the back deck. Even though they'd photographed everything, Dave didn't want to disturb the two bodies lying on the deck. Arranging the tables had a new dimension to consider. A creepy one that should have bothered him more than it did. He pulled out a plastic table from a hall closet to serve as a tool stand and laid out the cordless drill and everything else. The saw he placed on the table and immediately connected the extension cord to it, leaving the other end disconnected from, but near, the outside outlet. Finished, Dave settled into a patio chair. The chair was made of stretched grey fabric on a black metal frame, one of four on his low back deck. Given the size of his household, he needed to pick up some more. Or better yet get some nice wooden deck chairs. With the combined incomes in the house, they could afford to splurge a little. Except, they're supposed to move. How soon he didn't know, but why buy new furniture when they'd just have to move it; and might not have a deck or patio to put it on? Dave's gaze wandered across his yard. The greenhouse drew his attention. With the lower temperatures, the potted bay tree had been moved in there. Would they get to move the plants? Restarting his entire food base would suck. His practice platform would have to be carefully dismantled, assuming they had enough warning time. The platform was well worn and smooth. He'd even practice barefoot sometimes to get a feel for it. No splinters. That smooth. Starting over again; on so many things. Seems like that was the new refrain in life; starting over. Dave shook himself out of that downward spiral. Nothing good lay down that line of thinking. His eyes landed on the body on his deck, and the red stain beneath it. Once the body was removed and the detritus cleared and scrubbed, he'd need to sand it and re-stain it. Well, maybe not. Depends on how long until they moved. Dave realized he needed to talk with Vanessa about the timeline on this thing. But what the hell did it mean? Why would they cut the nuts off their own dead? What was going on? None of this made sense. Nothing had made sense for months. Why not pile on one more inanity? "David?" Jan's soft voice, loaded with concern, snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts. He turned his head to face her. Her slender frame easily fit within the break in the glass door. "David, it's freezing and wet out here. Wouldn't you rather be inside?" She looked about the deck and all of his preparations. She crossed from the door to his chair and slowly knelt beside his knee. Her soft brown eyes pleaded even more than the words from her mouth. "It's not good for you to be out here like this, David. Please, come inside." Dave stood, reaching her position at the door in three quick steps. Kissing her softly on the lips, he pulled back with a cheeky grin. "Yes, dear." Her bemused smile was just what he needed. He let her guide him to a spot on the couch. It was only slightly warmer, but a lot drier. Plus, Jan snuggled in close. After a few minutes, she got up to pull a blanket off the back of the other couch. She rejoined Dave, wrapping the blanket around the two of them. They said very little. Jan's calm, quiet presence prevented any further worrisome mental tangents. When Liv got back with the supplies, his first order of business was to check that they'd had no problems and hadn't been followed. In that, they were clear. With weapons slung, the three of them unloaded the lumber and such from the truck and into the backyard via the side fence gate. They were careful to avoid the corpses, giving them a wide berth. Where the fuck were the cops? "Okay, Liv, can you make one last verification on the window measurements while I get the plywood on the sawhorse?" "Sure. You wanna screw it straight to the wood frame, right?" Liv asked. "Yup." Dave replied. "Hmm, you could just screw it straight to my frame, Dave." Mel purred and waggled her eyebrows. Liv was out of earshot by the time she'd spoken. Dave sagged for a moment. Mel was one of the several he hadn't ejaculated in earlier, so she would still need dosing in the next four days. Mel immediately felt bad, as expressed on her face. "Sorry, Dave, I'm just messing with you." "Yeah, I get that. And I like the quick jab jokes most of the time. I'd rather a sharp mind that occasionally nicks my fingertip than a dull one that needs every non-literal comment described and outlined for her." Melanie snickered appreciatively. "Still, I'm responsible for all of you, and your needs. I take that seriously; as much fun as any one of you are to be with, it's also a job that I gotta get right or someone gets hurt." It took Mel about half a second to close the distance and press her body against Dave. Her arms latched around him. "Hey, you do a great job taking care of us, each of us. This morning was one of the more obvious proofs. You're really good at the less obvious stuff too." Dave gave her ass a light pinch that made Mel yelp. "Thanks, kitten. I really am getting in a better head space with your help and others. Sometimes my instincts are from the old days, though." Liv stepped back out onto the deck just then. Mel's wicked grin reappeared. "Well, in the old days, you didn't have me to fuck; or your big tiddy daughter slut." Liv backhanded Mel. "I'm not his daughter, dammit! Don't say shit like that. I won't get laid for a week if that's in his head!" "Damn, that was my tit! That fucking hurt!" Olivia looked completely unapologetic. Mel's face switched back to lascivious. "That's okay, I know what could get him revved and ready to fuck." She sauntered over to Liv and took her friend's face in her hands, softly. Then she kissed her, long slow, and deep. Liv's response was surprise at the sudden switch, but not unaccustomed to the familiarity. Melanie broke the kiss, then turned to look at Dave with hooded eyes, her cheek pressed against Olivia's. "What do you think David? You up for nailing a couple of kinky bi-sexual college babes?" Dave drew in a breath and was about to reply when she continued. "Even if one of them is your big tiddy mfm--" Liv's hand sealed over Mel's mouth to block a repeat of the undesired phrase. "With dead bodies lying right here in view? Not so much." Dave hoisted a sheet of plywood and settled it on the sawhorses. Liv released Mel, who spoke only with her wicked grin and gleaming eyes before heading back inside. Liv called off the measurements, which matched what she and Dave measured earlier. A few minutes with the measuring tape and pencil and they had two panels marked off, one each from two different corners of the sheet. Liv held the plywood while Dave cut one panel, then they switched roles for the second panel. After securing the saw, Dave grabbed the drill and screws while Liv snagged the cut sections. They passed back through the broken glass door and proceeded to the entryway to patch the broken window. Nice thing about drywall screws; they're very good for more than just drywall. The frame of the window was wide, and solid wood. Dave held the one section in place on the inside as Liv used the cordless drill to run two pilot holes each on both sides of the frame. She quickly changed to a driver bit and put drywall screws into the holes. The pilots were large enough for the shaft of the screw, but not the threads, that way the screws had a good, firm, bite in the wood without cracking it. Once Liv had four good screws in the plywood panel, Dave stepped back, making room for her to run a few more pilot holes and screws; two more on each side and three each across the top and bottom. Liv was a little annoyed having to use the step ladder for the top screw on each side as well as the three across the top. "Don't worry about it. Hell, I'm gonna use it when I do the outside. Yeah, if I really had to, I can reach and do it. But, with less strain, I can be sure to get the screws level." Liv looked slightly mollified at Dave's admission. To further assuage her injured ego he delivered a gentle, lips only, kiss after she descended. She rolled her eyes and smiled before leaving to find the hand vacuum to get the sawdust. Dave started shuffling the equipment through the never-breached security door around to the outside of the window. He was just running the extension cord back to the outlet near the door when Liv came out. This time, she held the panel in place while he drove pilot holes, quick changed to a driver bit and put screws in place. Liv backed off so he had room to run the rest of the pilot holes. Dave was just driving the last screw holding the panel in place when he heard an engine coming down the street. Two engines. "Get inside, use the door as cover," he ordered. Dropping the drill in the grass under the windowsill, he hoofed it around the corner of the house. The brick would give him some small measure of protection if it was needed. He pulled the SMG around on its sling, from against his back to the ready position. Almost the moment he was in position with weap. As the S U V came to a stop, Dave registered the markings and got a mental jarring. Black background, two blue stripes, with white letters spelling out 'Police' and 'Garland'. Garland was three towns away, on the other fucking side of the lake! The officer stepped out of her vehicle, standing between the body and her driver's door. Typical for an on-duty officer, her hair was hidden up under her hat. More importantly, her right hand was low, hidden by the vehicle's body, likely on her pistol. In fact, given what Carter had taught him about procedures, she'd likely already removed the safety strap, her thumb hooked around the grip. She was exposed enough that Dave could see her badge. She was too far away to identify the authenticity of said emblem, but everything was falling into place as legit. "Sir, please place your weapon on the ground. My name is Officer Korman of the Garland Police Department. We are here in response to multiple 911 calls from this address." Dave held both hands, empty, out to his sides. "Yes officer, we called several times in the early morning while we were under attack, and after. I'm going to disarm myself, and hand my weapons inside to my family." The officer's eyes flicked to the door. Clearly, she'd been distracted enough by Dave that she hadn't noticed Olivia. Or Olivia's gun. Even at a distance, she flinched visibly, realizing she'd committed a fatal error. "We have no beef with law enforcement, officer. We've been a bit on guard since the incident. My partner will secure my weapons inside and close the door." Dave used his left hand to reach slowly across his body at shoulder height. He hooked his thumb under the strap and slid it off his shoulder and across his arm. Leaving it to twist, dangling from his thumb, he held his arm straight out, full length, as he slowly walked to the door and handed the weapon off to Liv. Keeping his right hand still up and visible, he then unstrapped his thigh holster and handed that inside as well. Liv had a wary look as Dave pulled the front door closed between them. Dave turned back to the officer. "Ma'am, as you can see, I am now unarmed, everyone else is inside. We were just repairing the damage from the attack, and staying vigilant." "You altered the crime scene?" The voice should have been annoyed, but was too monotone to convey any meaning beyond the words themselves. "We took extensive pictures of the bodies and both breaches. We haven't sealed the rear breach yet. We'd just finished the front when you arrived." The policewoman stepped around her door, closing it. On alert, she came around the front of her patrol vehicle and approached Dave. "Sir, the young woman that entered the house, is that your daughter?" Does she know about the vaccine? Best to play it cagey . "She's my best friend's daughter. I've known her since she was punching her mother's belly from the inside." The officer approached a few more steps as he spoke. At this range, Dave could see the drained appearance behind the weak smile his jest evoked. "You say you took pictures?" "Yes ma'am. We have it saved on a memory card for you." Dave shivered involuntarily. The drizzle had let up and the temperature had risen slightly with the sun. Not that the Sun's presence was particularly notable today. Working on the patch had kept him moving and focused so he didn't register the chill. Now he had the luxury of discomfort. "We carefully took photos of the bodies, the area they fell, and the path in between. We didn't move them ourselves, their buddies did that. Then they, well, take a look." Still wary, the cop walked over to the corpse still splayed out on the driveway. "And you didn't do this?" "No ma'am. We haven't touched the bodies at all. Shot 'em when they were inside the house. Their pals drug them back out here and did this. There's three more on the back deck. We shot two of them in the house. The third was shot by one of his friends, out on the deck." "I'm going to have our mortuary contractor collect the bodies for the Me. Please bring me the memory card with the original images." She beckoned towards the van as Dave moved to the house. Mel once again assured Dave the copies she made were full copies, indistinguishable from originals. Dave took the copied memory card and walked back out. The two figures in hazmat gear carrying the encased body between them were approaching the back of the van when he stepped out into the dreary day once again. "Here's the memory card officer." "Thanks. Two more in the back you say?" "Three. Two that we shot and one shot by his buddies." "Right." "There's a side gate so we can go around the house." "The shooting occurred inside?" "Yes ma'am." "I'm going to need to examine the area myself, and take some notes. There should be a detective along later. I'll make a note in the file that I've collected the pictures you took. She can get them from the station house." "Do you know the detective that's coming?" "No clue." "Then how do you know it'll be a woman?" "Probability, sir." Dave's heart sank. While the officer sounded drained for most of their conversation, those last two words were absolutely desiccated, the depleted echoes of a mind that had seen everything torn asunder, replaced with a nightmare even Wes Craven would run away from. Once the body movers returned, Dave led the three of them through the side gate into the backyard and pointed out the corpses on the back deck. He stayed in the grass to give them plenty of room for their work. The officer scribbled notes as the two body collectors packaged up one corpse and carried it off. She kept a distance from Dave the entire time, with her weapon hip carefully away from him; and the broken glass door. When the collectors came for the second body, she remained at a distance from the scene as they worked. For the third body, she followed them out. She fixed Dave's eyes with her own as she walked off. "I'll be back in a moment to examine the interior." Dave passed into the house through the breach. Lupie was busy in the kitchen with a couple of helpers. Shawna and Liv were in the living room. The younger woman was more obviously on alert, and maybe on edge. An attentive eye could discern Shawna was similarly watchful, but more calm. Liv picked up Dave's SMG to hand it to him. "No, hold on to it. Actually, put the SMG's away. Let's keep the pistols for now though. The policewoman is coming inside shortly. Let's keep the weapons out of sight. She's not a threat, how 'bout the two of you skedaddle up stairs while she's here?" "Sure," Liv replied. "You know the code?" Shawna asked. "Yup. Mom & Dad's wedding year." A sharp rap at the door announced the officer's arrival. Dave was a few steps away from the door, so he strode quickly in that direction after checking that Liv was already inputting the entry code for the gun closet. If he could keep the officer examining the parlor space first, and long enough, Liv and Shawna could get clear before the officer came into the living room. No point in agitating the woman. Dave noticed she was wearing a face mask and gloves when he opened the door. His plan to stall worked. Hell, he didn't even have to try that hard. The Lady asked enough questions about the attempted breach of the door and the eventual entry through the window that Dave heard his two partners ascending the stairs well before he and the officer moved towards the living room. "So this is where the shooting actually occurred?" "Yes ma'am. Liv stood over there at the landing, and I was initially braced against that corner where the hallway meets the room." "Initially?" "Once they broke through the window, I was concerned Liv would be exposed from that direction. They didn't seem interested in coming through the glass door anymore, so I crept forward behind that couch so that I could hit anyone that might try to get an angle on her. I don't think the guy I shot saw her before I shot him." She scribbled furiously in her notebook for a few minutes. Then she asked to speak with Liv. His partner descended; Dave was relieved to see she'd left her firearm upstairs. Lupie, Jan, and Reena passed upstairs after Liv cleared the stairs. The dishes they carried smelled great. If Dave hadn't heard the officer's stomach grumbling, he might have felt sorry for himself. She must have seen the look on his face though. "No, thank you. That would still be inappropriate," she said. "I will need to speak with ;” "Olivia." "; Olivia, alone please." Dave nodded and headed upstairs. Carefully, he lowered himself to a crouching position in the hallway beside the head of the stairs. He couldn't hear the words, but by tracking tone he would be alerted to impending trouble. There was none. It took several minutes, but then he heard Olivia walking the officer to the door. Dave was at the bottom of the stairs before Liv made it back from securing the front door. "All good?" he asked. "Yup," said the brunette. "She look exhausted to you?" "Very." "She say anything about who did this?" "She only asked questions, no answers. I tried a few while the body boys were away from us. No dice." "Boys?" "Dunno, I actually wasn't paying attention." "With the residency of this house, you're having trouble identifying male from female?" Liv said with a wink. Dave's only reply was a bemused glare. Liv's bounteous bust bounced with her laughter. "I love hearing that sound." Shawna's rich tones rolled into the living room as she reached the landing. Dave turned to face her. "Speaking of sounds I love to hear ;” Shawna came closer and kissed him. The feel of her magnificent bust pressed to his chest and the smell of his lover's skin gave Dave thoughts he couldn't address just yet. "I'd tell you that you have me already and don't have to win me over, but I love hearing those sweet nothings." She wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed her nose on his. "Melanie and I ate already. We'll stand guard down here. You two eat and finish the repairs." Dave kissed her once more, then headed upstairs. Melanie passed him at the foot of the stairs. Liv followed immediately behind him. Dave had to 'endure' a lot of hugs, and a few kisses, within a few feet of entering the spare bedroom Lupie had set up lunch in. Homemade chicken soup with all the rich, deep flavors from multiple ingredients missing from the canned stuff. Plus fresh rolls. He was getting used to being spoiled like this, but damn, it was so good to have a woman around the house. Having nine women around the house sounded like a recipe for disaster, but it hadn't been an issue at all. Which reminded him. "Anyone keeping an eye on Nicole?" "I just came from the master bedroom before you came up," said Jan. "She's still solidly out. As long as it's been, she must be experiencing a regeneration. There's no telling how long she will be unconscious." Dave stopped before her for a lingering kiss and a minute or so of gazing into her eyes before getting a second bowl of soup and two more rolls. Liv lingered over her first bowl, then spent some time talking with Lupie while Dave finished up. "You ready?" Liv asked as he added his bowl to the dirty stack. "Yep. Now for the tough part." He paused in thought. "Did you pick up the glass handling gloves?" "Yeah, bag's on the couch. I don't want either one of us losing a finger." They grabbed the gloves on their way through the living room to the deck. Then things got tricky. First, they removed the fasteners holding the two frame pieces together. The glass was sandwiched between them. Then, with Dave holding high on the large pane, well away from the shattered area, Liv carefully pried the inner frame piece away. Dave had to step over it as she moved it out of the way. The most delicate part came next. Liv ran a flathead screwdriver around the edge of the glass to ensure it came away cleanly. Very gingerly, they pulled the top edge away from the frame, then slowed its descent as its own weight rotated it the rest of the way out. They laid it in the grass. "I really expected the edge by the break to fall apart." "Guess we got lucky." "Damn lucky. Let's get that plywood in place, then we can break that thing into large pieces and dump 'em in the trashcan." With Becca, Esme, and Lupie living in Dave's house, the large rolling trashcans for Lupie's property were empty. One of those had plenty of space for the glass pane. The plywood took some trimming to fit vertically. But there was open space horizontally, so a second piece of plywood was needed to fit the gap. With the frame back in place and secured, Dave and Liv ran a few 2x1's across the seam. A bit of caulk squeezed into the crack would prevent any air leak; or whistling. Breaking and stashing the glass in the spare bin and cleaning the deck area took another forty minutes. By the time they got inside, Jan had already vacuumed the last of the sawdust and glass bits from the carpet adjacent to the sliding door. Dave and Olivia washed up. Liv joined Mel in their room, watching a streaming show on the latter's laptop. Dave went down to the living room, finding most of his family present. "Hey, babe." He slid onto the couch beside Lupie. She immediately nestled into his shoulder. She placed one hand on his chest, the other on his thigh closest to her. "I appreciate everything you've done to keep things working smoothly here while Liv and I dealt with what happened. That helped keep everybody's nerves; manageable." Her hand on his chest gripped tighter, like she was trying to palm him. "You're the one that stood in the line of fire and faced down armed men coming to kill us. Or worse. Making food and cleaning up is not the same." "The value of one act does not negate the value of the other. Cleaning up is the first step in returning some normalcy after the disruption. A hearty meal helps soothe the soul. What you've done matters." Dave barely heard her next utterance. "Just don't leave me David. I need you. Please be careful." He pulled her in tight. "I will." A knock at the door interrupted anything else he might have said. The late afternoon gloom and the chilly air seemed perfect for the woman standing on Dave's doorstep. Not overly short for a woman, she sported jet black hair pulled into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck, and pale skin on an oval face. Her cloth mask covered her mouth. Dave half wondered if the darkness around her eyes was makeup or weariness. Oh good, Detective Wednesday Addams is here . "Hello, sir. I'm Detective Carmen Verratti. I'm here to investigate the break-in and deaths that occurred earlier." The mask she wore muffled her words slightly. An emotion detector would not have registered the tiniest blip as she spoke. One for weariness would have pegged. "Would you like to start with the outside or inside?" Dave queried. "Let's get the outside done before the temperature drops." She took a sip from her insulated beverage bottle. Dave picked up a vague whiff of coffee as he followed her out to the driveway. "I'm not sure what woke me up in the first place. We have a dog, but he was upstairs and deaf. He didn't start barking until after the shooting began. There's chickens in the next yard over. I suppose they might have made a noise, but not once I was awake. I armed myself and left my bedroom. I encountered; one of my housemates on the stairs." Dave continued, walking through each step of the encounter. Once they were past the part where the guys coming in the front broke through the window, they walked around to the back deck. As with the blotch in the driveway, the detective seemed transfixed by the stain on the deck for several seconds. When she was finished with her visual examination of the deck and backyard, she motioned for Dave to lead her inside. Waving to the plywood she asked, "This is the second breach?" "This was the first place they got through. By the sounds of things, they were trying to breach the sliding glass door and the front door at the same time. They just weren't ready for a security door. The guys in the front came through the window, but by that time we'd already taken out two guys coming through the back." "And that's when you heard two men arguing about someone's sister?" "Only one voice got loud enough to pick out words." Liv supplied. "He seemed pretty pissed, so whatever the quieter voice mentioned must not have been pleasant." "So could one of these men be the brother or brothers of one of your partners?" the detective queried. Dave shared uneasy looks with Liv, Shawna, and Lupie. Four brains looked stuck in feedback loops trying to figure out how to respond without breaking the NDA's they'd all signed. "I'm aware of the vaccine and its effects. I was finally informed this morning, though I haven't been partnered yet. It explains some of the changes I've seen around the station." All four visibly relaxed. "That certainly makes this easier. So, I think a few of us have fathers still hunkered down and alive, but no brothers." Shawna supplied. "Well, Niki mentioned she has a brother hiding out in his college dorm somewhere out of state," Lupie mentioned. "Out of state? Not likely to be involved, but can you ask her to come down so I can speak with her?" "She just joined us last night. She's still out as of an hour ago when I last looked in on her." "Please check again. If she's still out, then I may have to come back to follow up with her." Lupie moved like swift water off the couch and up the stairs. She came back down shortly, shaking her head once the detective's attention was on her. While Lupie was away, the detective began asking questions directly of Liv and Shawna. Liv said she'd heard some sort of thumping sound in the back yard, like maybe someone had fallen coming over the fence. It explained her wakefulness, but not mine, given the master bedroom was over the front of the house. Maybe the guys approaching the front made a noise. Maybe my sleeping brain sensed a disturbance in the force. Sometimes you just fucking wake up at an opportune time. Detective Verratti asked the others as well. Shawna hadn't awakened until I was exiting the room, and didn't get out of bed until the glass door was broken. The others didn't wake until the first gunshot. Lupie slipped upstairs to invite the rest of the family to come down, a few at a time, to share their observations. Since most had been upstairs the whole time, they had little to share, and the questions wore out quickly. Dave watched as she spoke with the others. The detective was mildly more relaxed once she admitted to knowing about the serum. Those that had been out of the room for the revelation were informed as they came down, so all of House Belsus seemed mostly comfortable. It was still an interrogation. But Det. Verratti seemed; uncomfortable. She was scratching in her notebook, having just asked one last question of Esme (while she sat on Lupie's lap) when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Lupie looked at her expectantly as Verratti checked her phone. "That's all I needed, thank you. You can head upstairs little miss." She said with a smile. The smile faded once Esme's back was turned. "I have to make a call. I'll step out front, but I have a few more things I want to wrap up with you Mr. Belsus." She grabbed her heavy coat as she headed out. The temperature had been cold all day, and was beginning to drop now that the sun had gone down. "Yes ma'am, I'll be waiting." "I'll make some more coffee." Shawna rose and headed to the kitchen. Liv got up and sat beside Dave, laying her head on his shoulder and wrapping her hands around his bicep. Dave was at one end of the couch, leaving her room to draw her feet up behind her. She killed two men. She's going to be coping for a long time. I never should have let her into that mess. I should have left her at the top of the stairs holding a second line of defense. Then again, with only one target for them, would I have succeeded? What if they had killed me, got to the stairs and then Liv gunned them down? She'd still have these feelings, but I'd be dead. She and all the others would be in deep shit because I'm not around to pump out cum anymore. So I did the right thing right? Maybe. Fuck, if Carter was still here, I could; what did he call it? Do an After Action Review! That's the phrase he used. Tell him what the fuck happened and let him pick it apart, or back me up. Probably a little of both. Fuck, if Carter were still alive, I'm not telling him I'm fucking his daughter! A knock at the door announced the detective's return. Shawna opened the door and led her into the living room. The detective was stony face as she entered. She was also carrying a valise. As she reached the chair she'd used earlier, she took a sniff. Taking the hint, Shawna informed her, "Coffee will be ready in another minute or two. I put on a fresh pot when you stepped out." "Thank you." The detective's face actually showed signs of life. "Professor Belsus, could we speak privately? Somewhere with some table space if you please." "Sure, we can use the dining room. Nice big table in there." The coffee machine chimed just as Verratti placed her valise on the table. She looked expectantly back towards the living room. Lupie and Shawna were already on their way in. "We'll be quick. How do you take yours?" "Black, one spoon of sugar, please." Lupie nodded and kept moving. "Now that I think about it, the library is more isolated, but it doesn't have a large surface like this." Dave confessed. "This will do. I'll wait until they've passed back out to start anything sensitive." She paused briefly. "Well, it's been years, so I don't know if you remember me, but I took your astronomy class about twelve years ago. We ran into each other again on the shoot / no shoot range about five years ago too." "Right. I remember that." To be continued in part 10, Based on a post by RonanJWilkerson, in 12 parts, for Literotica.

Some people grow up believing haunted houses are the problem. Others eventually realize something far more unsettling — the activity follows them. From childhood moments that feel easy to dismiss, to patterns that only become clear years later, this listener slowly begins to recognize a truth that's impossible to ignore. Doors don't knock on their own. Footsteps don't appear without explanation. And shadows don't linger unless they have a reason. As the experiences escalate, fear gives way to recognition — not of a single spirit, but of a lifelong connection to something unseen. This isn't a story about one haunting. It's about realizing you may be the common thread in every one of them. #RealGhostStories #ParanormalPodcast #TrueParanormal #HauntedExperiences #ShadowPeople #UnexplainedEncounters #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalActivity #GhostStories #RealHauntings Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu, when he lived in Vṛndāvana, would walk from Akrūra Ghāṭa every morning and sit down at Imlitalā tree and he would chant japa from early morning into the late morning. Similarly, when Caitanya Mahāprabhu came to South India, he made special arrangements for his japa. It says here, from our reading last night: "Since your two hands will always be engaged in chanting and counting the holy names, how will you be able to carry the water pot and external garments?" That's Nityānanda Prabhu trying to induce Caitanya Mahāprabhu to take somebody with him. Why? So he could have his hands free and chant Japa. From this verse (Cc Madhya 7.37), it is clear that Caitanya Mahāprabhu was chanting the holy names a fixed number of times daily. The Gosvāmīs used to follow in the footsteps of Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu, and Haridāsa Ṭhākura also followed this principle. Considering the Gosvāmīs—Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī, Śrīla Sanātana Gosvāmī, Śrīla Raghunātha Bhaṭṭa Gosvāmī, Śrīla Jīva Gosvāmī, Śrīla Gopāla Bhaṭṭa Gosvāmī, and Śrīla Raghunātha dāsa Gosvāmī—Śrīnivāsa Ācārya confirms: saṅkhyā-pūrvaka-nāma-gāna-natibhiḥ. In addition to other duties, Śrī Caitanya Mahāprabhu introduced the system of chanting the holy name of the Lord a fixed number of times. As confirmed in this verse, Caitanya Mahāprabhu used to count on his fingers; while one hand was engaged in chanting, the other hand kept the number of rounds. This is corroborated in the Caitanya-candrāmṛta and also in Śrīla Rūpa Gosvāmī's Stava-mālā, which is quoted. Prabhupāda says: "Therefore, devotees in the line of Caitanya Mahāprabhu must chant at least 16 rounds daily. And this is the number prescribed by the International Society for Krishna Consciousness. Haridāsa Ṭhākura daily chanted 300,000 names; 16 rounds is about 28,000 names. There is no need to imitate Haridāsa Ṭhākura or the Gosvāmīs, but chanting the holy name a fixed number of times daily is essential for every devotee." So, this is the foundational principle of the practice of devotional service, and we get constant confirmation of how important it is. https://vedabase.io/en/library/cc/madhya/7/37/ ------------------------------------------------------------ To connect with His Grace Vaiśeṣika Dāsa, please visit https://www.fanthespark.com/next-steps/ask-vaisesika-dasa/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=video&utm_campaign=launch2025 ------------------------------------------------------------ Add to your wisdom literature collection: https://iskconsv.com/book-store/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=video&utm_campaign=launch2025 https://www.bbtacademic.com/books/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=video&utm_campaign=launch2025 https://thefourquestionsbook.com/?utm_source=youtube&utm_medium=video&utm_campaign=launch2025 ------------------------------------------------------------ Join us live on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FanTheSpark/ Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sound-bhakti/id1132423868 For the latest videos, subscribe https://www.youtube.com/@FanTheSpark For the latest in SoundCloud: https://soundcloud.com/fan-the-spark ------------------------------------------------------------ #makejapagreatagain #mantrameditation #globalyouthretreat #spiritualawakening #soul #spiritualexperience #spiritualpurposeoflife #spiritualgrowthlessons #secretsofspirituality #vaisesikaprabhu #vaisesikadasa #vaisesikaprabhulectures #spirituality #bhaktiyoga #krishna #spiritualpurposeoflife #krishnaspirituality #spiritualusachannel #whybhaktiisimportant #whyspiritualityisimportant #vaisesika #spiritualconnection #thepowerofspiritualstudy #selfrealization #spirituallectures #spiritualstudy #spiritualquestions #spiritualquestionsanswered #trendingspiritualtopics #fanthespark #spiritualpowerofmeditation #spiritualteachersonyoutube #spiritualhabits #spiritualclarity #bhagavadgita #srimadbhagavatam #spiritualbeings #kttvg #keepthetranscendentalvibrationgoing #spiritualpurpose

Noisy Doors, Leaky Roofs, and the Mark of the Beast Last week's newsletter was written to be very simple. This week...not simple. We're tying together our lessons on the Salt Covenant, The Scarlet Harlot, and the basic menorah pattern of Workbook One. So no, it's not simple, but it's not too difficult, either! Try printing it off and studying it over two Shabbats, referencing the suggested videos or workbooks as you go.   ***   So what do noisy doors, leaky roofs, and the mark of the beast have in common?    Excellent question! I'm glad you asked.   In order to see the connection, we have to know a little something about each of them. If you want a refresher on the Beast, consider signing up for the Creation Gospel Workbook Four class coming up with Kisha Gallagher (scroll down for info) or watching the Scarlet Harlot series on YouTube. You can also refresh your memory on the meaning of the mezuzah with our "More Than" YouTube videos. We'll cover a few basics here to tie it together.   “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me…”   Yeshua standing at the door knocking is a huge hint, especially on the heels of John's sobering prophecies of the mark of the beast in Revelation. If we can't see the link to the world commercial system as “Babylon” in Revelation, we're not trying very hard. Revelation begins with memos to the seven assemblies emphasizing their need to “overcome” the tribulations John is about to describe,   • “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” (Re 3:14-21)   We can conclude that how to overcome is described in Revelation, but we can also conclude that an ignorance of the Torah will make our understanding only partial. Revelation is written as an incredibly intricate re-telling of the Torah portions. Without an understanding of those Torah portions, it will be difficult to be identified as one of those who overcome when they “keep the testimony of Yeshua and the commandments of God.”   If Yeshua knocks on the door of one of these potential overcomers, he knocks on a door that is marked by a mezuzah, which contains summaries of the commandments. To pull in the themes of our Salt Covenant study over the last several weeks, a mezuzah is a sign that those inside the house know to be salty within, tenderly and joyfully salting their commandment-keeping. Because they are pliable to the work of the Ruach HaKodesh within the house, they are ready to meet the challenges of the Beast outside the house.   The mezuzah is their reminder that they've committed their coming and going, especially their work and business dealings, to preserving their covenant with the Father with salt, for savory salt is our faith, the tenderness we have toward His Word. It is our desire to draw close to Him through our sacrifices, not begrudgingly or to be admired by others, but to give glory to the Father. Yeshua reminds us that he also wants to draw near to our salty selves, so he stands at the door and knocks.   Just imagine that the mezuzah on your door was Yeshua standing there each day inquiring if he may accompany you in your coming and going.   Because he is. The custom is to touch one's fingers to the mezuzah and kiss the fingers. It demonstrates affection and tenderness toward the Shma and other scriptures in the mezuzah, which remind us in our coming and going Who the only Source of wealth is. The name Shaddai is inscribed on mezuzot, which is the name describing His attribute of nourishment and supply.   By touching the mezuzah, we also are reminded like the Israelites in Deuteronomy Eight: “Otherwise, you may say in your heart, ‘My power and the strength of my hand made me this wealth.' But you shall remember the LORD your God, for it is He who is giving you power to make wealth, that He may confirm His covenant which He swore to your fathers...”   The mezuzah on the door marks the boundary between what happens when we go into the world and how we are inside our homes. If we are at war inside our homes, then how will we war against the principalities and powers outside our homes? The shin on the tefillin reminds the person Who opens the Heavenly windows to drip down zuzim, or coins, transactions, in our lives. Zuz is found in the word mezuzah, but the letter shin is found on both the mezuzah and the prayer tefillin.   Because they are worn in prayer, it helps one to adjust those trade prayers according to Yeshua's model…daily bread…forgiveness…holiness…His will and glory on earth…protection from temptation to sin. Ever notice how many famous actors, musicians, and sports stars end up unhappy, addicted, disconnected from the real world, and just plain weird? We are not spiritually wired to receive the glory of Heaven, only to reflect the glory of Heaven outward with salt. Of course they get weird and depressed!   Our labor and business dealings outside the home must be salted and lit from within first. We must extend ourselves from within, or it will eventually be evident to the world that we did not exert ourselves according to our wealth of salvation and light.nIt is thought that the marks of tzaraat (leprosy) that appeared in a home were a result of greed and stinginess. When the priests removed everything inside to the outside to quarantine and scrape the stones, everyone would see the wealth concealed inside, especially if they'd pretended not to have enough to help the needy brother. The “best third” is where the mezuzah is placed on a door, the upper third, like an upper room. The mezuzah marks the right hand frame of the door about 2/3 of the way up: “Mezuzah guards the Covenant, and so observing the mitzvah of mezuzah leads a person to truth and faith, the faith which is absolutely necessary when conducting business.”    “And I will bring the third part through the fire, Refine them as silver is refined, And test them as gold is tested. They will call on My name, And I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are My people,' And they will say, ‘The LORD is my God.'” (Zec 13:9)   Yeshua invokes this prophecy in Zechariah when he warns the Laodiceans in Revelation Three that he is standing at the door knocking: “Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,” and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich…”   This is where we see another connection to the mezuzah. Zechariah prophesies of the “third part.” This is thought to be the remnant that will come through the tribulation refined by fire instead of destroyed by it. They have not succumbed to the Beast's commercial activity, buying and selling excessively or on Shabbat (see CG Workbook Four or Workbook Two). Traditionally, the mezuzah is affixed at a pointing on the right side of the door 2/3 of the way up the door. To relate the thirds, the mezuzah is like the principle of the “upper room” we've studied over the last several weeks.    Ancient Israelite houses typically had two levels, a ground level where beasts were stabled and practical household work such as cooking and weaving took place, but the family quarters were on the second floor. An extra upper room had to be built either on the second floor or atop the family quarters, making it an upper third. More simply, an upper room was where the family made space for visitors, a space that wasn't there, yet they created the space through hospitality.   Those upper rooms in Scripture were places associated with hospitality toward the righteous visitor as well as resurrection from the dead, like the stories of Elijah, Elisha, Dorcas, and Eutychus. A mezuzah reminds us not to neglect making those spaces of hospitality for the righteous visitor, who represents hospitality toward Yeshua and the Living Word. Yeshua's noisy knocking on the door is a daily reminder that when we make an “upper room” of hospitality, then we are actually tapping into the Garden of Eden. The resurrections in the upper rooms of Scripture show us this.    On the mezuzah is either the Name Shaddai, or it is in the shorthand of the first Hebrew letter shin. Not so coincidentally, the tefillin that are placed on an Israelite male's forehead and arm are also marked with a shin (see above). The mezuzah and tefillin remind each day:   • Hear, O Israel! The LORD our God, the LORD is one! And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart; and you shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up. And you shall bind them as a sign on your hand and they shall be as frontals on your forehead. And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Dt 6:4-9)    Deuteronomy 8:11-19 reminds Israel not to be deceived when they become comfortable and prosperous in the Land, for their wealth will deceive them into thinking they earned it with their own hand. Remember the gumballs?   The tefillin on the hand and arm are a reminder that it is YHVH alone who gives the power to acquire wealth. Likewise, the mezuzah is marked with a shin for Shaddai, the One who provides sustenance, nourishment to Israel. Strangely, the shin is made of three Hebrew letters vav joined at the bottom. The gematria value of vav is six. 666.    Whaaaaat? Yes, it's the mark of the beast. But that's not the whole story. The mezuzah and tefillin are NOT the mark of the beast. The mark of the beast is when you get very close to being a salt covenant household or person, yet you have something lacking. Salt. Your daily work is not to acquire the wealth of the Kingdom to the glory of the Father, which can only be done through the power of the Ruach HaKodesh moving through the Word in you. The mark of the beast is when our daily work is to acquire the object of desire for our own sake. We can hear the disingenuous, unsalty believer when he says, “If God will just let me win the lottery, I'll build orphanages and feed the poor all over the world.”   And he probably will. But he will do it only in order to feed his own desires first. He's not really seeking first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. He's pursuing his own kingdom, offering God a deal that the Kingdom of Heaven will benefit from the scraps. Such a person will not give commensurately with his newfound wealth, for he is stingy at heart. Unsavory salt. Tepid. Lukewarm. Blechhhh!   The secret of the 666 is that it is only the letter of the Torah without the Ruach. The shin is like a menorah when the backlight of the Ruach shines through it (again, see Workbooks 2 & 4). Remember last week's lesson on the gumball machine? It was what you couldn't see that had to occur before what you could see. The Ruach precedes the letter of the Torah. Together, with the spiritual backlight through the literal three vavs, it yields seven, the seven- branched menorah. One tefillin has three vavs, but its mate has four! 3 + 4 = 7. Compare to the above: To be unsalty is 666. To be salty is to shine the seven spirits of Adonai described in Isaiah and Revelation:     •  wisdom   •  understanding   •  counsel   •  Spirit of Adonai   •  power   •  knowledge   •  reverence    Yeshua, the Living Word, is the doorkeeper of the overcoming household. We never want to reduce him to someone there to reward us with wealth. The word mezuzah comes from a Hebrew word meaning movement, going back and forth. The historical zuz was a coin, about a day's sustenance for one adult:   • Weight: About 4.26 grams (0.137 troy ounces) of silver. • Value: Historically equivalent to a day's wage or a portion of food/clothing, (e.g., 200 zuz was a year's support).  • Modern value would be about $20.   "Give us today our daily bread." Not the lottery.   Not so coincidentally, a mezuzah means more than movement. It is rooted as well in the movement of a beast: What starts out as a beautiful creation of spirit (upper room), soul and body (lower rooms), can degenerate into the mark of the beast. Instead of letting the Ruach drip into our lower rooms of work and family, the upper room is sealed off because of our stinginess and greed. Esau and Jacob had very different motives in asking for blessings. We can become unsavory, relentless hunters like Esau, the Red One, nicknamed Edom because he was red and hairy all over like a beast, a man of the field who loved hunting. We don't want to become marked by the Red One, never satisfied, even on Shabbat.   “…and he provides that no one will be able to buy or to sell except the one who has the mark, either the name of the beast or the number of his name.” (Re 13:17)   Nehemiah's struggles with those returning to rebuild Jerusalem and the Temple, especially in their continued buying and selling on Shabbat, are the reference point. He eventually had to order the gates of Jerusalem shut and locked to prevent the vendors from coming in with their goods. How glorious will it be when the gates no longer need to be shut, for no one will even entertain the idea of disobeying the King of King's command to rest and be with Him in Jerusalem on Shabbat.   Knock, knock.   In short, the mark of the beast is on one who buys and sells on Shabbat. Because there is no trust in Adonai to provide the many things we crave, we continue to work on His holy day. Someone who believes in God may have salt, but it is not savory. One who believes in God enough to do what He says is savory salt. Salt allows us to draw near the upper room of the Garden. I'm sure Yeshua is having wonderful conversations with the righteous souls of those who just didn't understand Shabbat, but they were faithful in what they knew. They are learning while they wait, not rebelling.   Ezekiel describes what went wrong in the “upper room” of the Garden of Eden, a hospitable place for those who want to draw near to the voice of Elohim, but a place from which rebels are purged. The “trader” was cast out of the heavenly fiery stones and tossed into the lower realms of strange, profane fire, that is, fire used by those estranged from the upper room fires of the Ruach above:   You were in Eden, the garden of God; Every precious stone was your covering: The sardius, topaz, and diamond, beryl, onyx, and jasper, Sapphire, turquoise, and emerald with gold. The workmanship of your timbrels and pipes Was prepared for you on the day you were created. You were the anointed cherub who covers; I established you; You were on the holy mountain of God; You walked back and forth in the midst of fiery stones. You were perfect in your ways from the day you were created, Till iniquity was found in you. By the abundance of your trading You became filled with violence within, and you sinned; Therefore I cast you as a profane thing out of the mountain of God; And I destroyed you, O covering cherub, from the midst of the fiery stones. (Eze 28:13-16; 18)   Ezekiel 28 drops a hint to where we should be vigilant: “By the abundance of your trading [H7404 rekula] you became filled with violence within, and you sinned...”   ????? rawkal' [H7402] to travel for trading   Our trade is part of work for our living, yet, the abundance is the danger zone. If our inner fire craves more wealth than we are willing to give back to Heaven commensurately, our going back and forth, zuzing about, to trade our time and effort for goods, power, and esteem becomes idolatry. In Hebrew, moving back and forth is zuz [zuz is also a coin], the root of mezuzah. The mezuzah marks the door where we travel back and forth each day to obtain our portion of wealth.   When our pursuit of wages and wealth pushes the testimony of Yeshua and the commandments of God beneath our feet instead of allowing them to drip daily from the upper room of the resurrection Ruach that raised Messiah from the dead, we sin. Our house's upper room should be designed to drip to lower floors of daily living, or we become unsavory salt.   We trade our precious lives, our time, our effort, to accumulate an abundance of things, not necessarily money, but what money will purchase: entertainment, security, comfort, esteem, power, knowledge, appeasement, etc. These things deceive us into believing they will bring joy and peace, but we know it's a lie because they never do. They are simply offered to the strange, consuming fire of the soul, but are not refinement of the spirit, which is everlasting peace and joy. It brings savory salt, light, and contentment from within.    The ancient investment advice is:   • Invest 1/3 of your income in tangible property such as real estate, durable goods, secure long-term investments  • Invest 1/3 in your daily labor, your paycheck, investments that provide a faster return, a little riskier, easily liquidated • Invest 1/3 above the mezuzah in the Kingdom of Heaven by lending to the poor, giving to needy, investing time in spiritual causes along with Torah study, prayer, service, discussing Scripture with others, etc. Even kindness is an investment!   We should not become “stingy” with Heavenly principles in the world of work, which would reflect a home's lower rooms sealed off from the upper room. The upper room should drip the testimony of Yeshua and the noisy commandments of God through the power of the resurrection Ruach. It leaks into the lower rooms of family and work!   The leaky roof is what we need to carry into the world of work and business as well as our relationships. An outwardly successful business producing wealth that can only be spent before the resurrection of the dead is not successful at all.    Preparation in the home under the disciplines of the Ruach HaKodesh will be evident in the place of business, not as a pile of 666 cash, but as peace in drawing near the Father, salt. The physical work is simply a means of building the Kingdom instead of demanding that the Father bless our work to build our own kingdoms of security, esteem, attention, comfort, intellectual stimulation, etc. Whether we have little or many zuzim, all we need to remember is that we must give commensurately with the wealth the Father drips down upon us.    If we can be responsible even with earthly money, which has no righteousness within itself, then we can be responsible with Heavenly riches.   If we can't be trusted to give commensurately with our wealth when there is no Temple service, and much freedom is granted in when and how much we give, then how can the Father trust us with His riches when the Temple on “the mountain of God” descends? The Temple services and the Land of Israel are places of extreme exactness in managing work and wealth.   Manage earthly zuzim faithfully, and we will inherit the Heavenly riches to manage.    One of my favorite movies is about a Quaker family, from the book Friendly Persuasion. One of the funniest lines is, “Friend, thee's got a squeaky door upstairs.”    Friend, thee's got a squeaky door downstairs, too. Yeshua is knocking, reminding, inquiring, requesting if we will open to his voice. It is the same voice of Elohim that walked and talked in the Garden, an upper room.   When we open our doors to him, we release the water of the Word from our upper rooms and let it fill our homes, workplaces, and relationships. If we move about, may we zuz for the glory of the Father.    Please SUBSCRIBE to our newsletter to get new teachings.

There's something about old houses that makes you feel like you're not entirely alone — even when you should be. When Amelia moved into her bungalow, she expected creaky floors, vintage charm, and maybe a few odd noises settling in at night. What she didn't expect was the feeling that the house was watching her back. As nights passed, the house grew bolder. Footsteps echoed where no one stood. Whispers slipped into otherwise normal conversations. Mirrors stopped feeling passive. And somewhere within the walls, something small — and deeply unsettling — seemed to be paying very close attention. Sometimes, the scariest part isn't what happens — it's realizing you were never really alone to begin with. #RealGhostStories #HauntedHouse #TrueParanormal #GhostGirl #CreepyEncounters #HauntedHome #ParanormalPodcast #TrueHaunting #Unexplained #GhostStories Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

It began with a nightmare she never fully forgot — a man stepping out from behind a sheer closet curtain, silent and watching. Even after she woke, the feeling stayed. The sense that something hadn't left with the dream. As the years passed and the houses changed, the experiences followed in pieces. Footsteps that sounded exactly like someone familiar. A shadow moving calmly through a hallway. Objects shifting just enough to be noticed. Sounds that made sense until they didn't. Nothing announced itself. Nothing demanded attention. And for a long time, she convinced herself it was the houses — old wiring, thin walls, stress, imagination. Until something crossed a line. What unsettled her most wasn't fear, but recognition. The way the presence seemed to imitate instead of threaten. The way it watched without revealing intent. The way it appeared wherever she tried to start over. #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalExperience #ShadowFigure #HauntedHomes #RealHaunting #Unexplained #ParanormalPodcast #SupernaturalEncounters #CreepingFear #TrueParanormal  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

It began with a nightmare she never fully forgot — a man stepping out from behind a sheer closet curtain, silent and watching. Even after she woke, the feeling stayed. The sense that something hadn't left with the dream. As the years passed and the houses changed, the experiences followed in pieces. Footsteps that sounded exactly like someone familiar. A shadow moving calmly through a hallway. Objects shifting just enough to be noticed. Sounds that made sense until they didn't. Nothing announced itself. Nothing demanded attention. And for a long time, she convinced herself it was the houses — old wiring, thin walls, stress, imagination. Until something crossed a line. What unsettled her most wasn't fear, but recognition. The way the presence seemed to imitate instead of threaten. The way it watched without revealing intent. The way it appeared wherever she tried to start over. #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalExperience #ShadowFigure #HauntedHomes #RealHaunting #Unexplained #ParanormalPodcast #SupernaturalEncounters #CreepingFear #TrueParanormal Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Tonight's guest is Fred, calling in from Sweden. He's the researcher and writer behind the book Northern Lights: High Strangeness in Sweden. Fred walks us through a series of his experiences scattered across Sweden and Norway, a violent interaction with an invisible force on a bridge in Stockholm, a shadow figure leaning out from behind a tree no person could hide behind, a perfect circle of ground light in Märsta, and the haunting footsteps that circled a cabin in a Norwegian valley that scared Fred before dawn. He also shares stories of the odd little man who appeared during his youth, in the forest, along the roadside, and even in a shop, always looking at him, never speaking.More information on this episode on the podcast website:https://ufochroniclespodcast.com/ep-366-high-strangeness-in-sweden/Hidden Cults (Promo)It is a documentary-style podcast that digs deep into the world's most extreme, elusive, and explosive fringe groups. Listen on all podcast apps: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4Q0kbgXrdzP0TvIk5xylx1Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/hidden-cults/id1816362029If you enjoy this podcast, please support the show with a virtual coffee:https://ko-fi.com/ufochroniclespodcastFollow and Subscribe on X to get ad free episodesX: https://x.com/UFOchronpodcast/Want to share your encounter on the show?Email: UFOChronicles@gmail.comOr Fill out Guest Form:https://forms.gle/uGQ8PTVRkcjy4nxS7Podcast Merchandise:https://www.teepublic.com/user/ufo-chronicles-podcastHelp Support UFO CHRONICLES by becoming a Patron:https://patreon.com/UFOChroniclespodcastAll Links for Podcast:https://linktr.ee/UFOChroniclesPodcastThank you for listening!Like share and subscribe it really helps me when people share the show on social media, it means we can reach more people and more witnesses and without your amazing support, it wouldn't be possible.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ufo-chronicles-podcast--3395068/support.

Tonight's guest is Fred, calling in from Sweden. He's the researcher and writer behind the book Northern Lights: High Strangeness in Sweden. Fred walks us through a series of his experiences scattered across Sweden and Norway, a violent interaction with an invisible force on a bridge in Stockholm, a shadow figure leaning out from behind a tree no person could hide behind, a perfect circle of ground light in Märsta, and the haunting footsteps that circled a cabin in a Norwegian valley that scared Fred before dawn. He also shares stories of the odd little man who appeared during his youth, in the forest, along the roadside, and even in a shop, always looking at him, never speaking.More information on this episode on the podcast website:https://ufochroniclespodcast.com/ep-366-high-strangeness-in-sweden/Hidden Cults (Promo)It is a documentary-style podcast that digs deep into the world's most extreme, elusive, and explosive fringe groups. Listen on all podcast apps: Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/4Q0kbgXrdzP0TvIk5xylx1Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/hidden-cults/id1816362029If you enjoy this podcast, please support the show with a virtual coffee:https://ko-fi.com/ufochroniclespodcastFollow and Subscribe on X to get ad free episodesX: https://x.com/UFOchronpodcast/Want to share your encounter on the show?Email: UFOChronicles@gmail.comOr Fill out Guest Form:https://forms.gle/uGQ8PTVRkcjy4nxS7Podcast Merchandise:https://www.teepublic.com/user/ufo-chronicles-podcastHelp Support UFO CHRONICLES by becoming a Patron:https://patreon.com/UFOChroniclespodcastAll Links for Podcast:https://linktr.ee/UFOChroniclesPodcastThank you for listening!Like share and subscribe it really helps me when people share the show on social media, it means we can reach more people and more witnesses and without your amazing support, it wouldn't be possible.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/ufo-chronicles-podcast--3395068/support.

From the outside, the house looks ordinary—just another quiet suburban home built to blend in and be forgotten. Inside, though, the hallways tell a different story. Doors lock on their own. Footsteps echo when no one is there. And a neatly dressed little boy appears again and again, unchanged by time. But he isn't alone. Something else moves through the house—taller, darker, and far more menacing. What begins as harmless mischief slowly reveals itself as a long-running struggle playing out in front of a family that never asked to be part of it. This is the story of a home caught between two spirits, and the night when even a hardened Marine realized there are things you can't stand your ground against. #RealGhostStoriesOnline #TrueGhostStory #ParanormalPodcast #HauntedHouse #ChildSpirit #ShadowFigure #SuburbanHaunting #UnexplainedActivity #SpiritConflict #ParanormalEncounter #FamilyHaunting #PhantomFootsteps #GhostlyPresence  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Tucked away in rural Wisconsin, The Humbird Historic Bar and Hotel looks like the kind of place where time simply slowed down. Built in 1869, it has welcomed generations of travelers, offered warm meals, stiff drinks, and shelter from the world outside. But not every guest left. Tragedy touched The Humbird early in its history, including a deadly smallpox outbreak that claimed lives within its walls. Today, the building still serves visitors—but staff and guests alike report encounters that suggest the past is very much present. Footsteps echo in empty rooms. Doors open on their own. And some visitors leave with the feeling that someone was watching long after last call. Today on The Grave Talks: The Humbird Historic Bar and Hotel, a conversation with owners Matt Hawkes and Elizabeth Havenor. This is Part Two of our conversation. For more information, visit their website at humbirdhotelbar.com. #TheGraveTalks #HauntedWisconsin #TheHumbird #HauntedHotel #HistoricHauntings #ParanormalPodcast #GhostStories #HauntedHistory #RealHauntings #SpiritsAmongUs Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Tucked away in rural Wisconsin, The Humbird Historic Bar and Hotel looks like the kind of place where time simply slowed down. Built in 1869, it has welcomed generations of travelers, offered warm meals, stiff drinks, and shelter from the world outside. But not every guest left. Tragedy touched The Humbird early in its history, including a deadly smallpox outbreak that claimed lives within its walls. Today, the building still serves visitors—but staff and guests alike report encounters that suggest the past is very much present. Footsteps echo in empty rooms. Doors open on their own. And some visitors leave with the feeling that someone was watching long after last call. Today on The Grave Talks: The Humbird Historic Bar and Hotel, a conversation with owners Matt Hawkes and Elizabeth Havenor. For more information, visit their website at humbirdhotelbar.com. #TheGraveTalks #HauntedWisconsin #TheHumbird #HauntedHotel #HistoricHauntings #ParanormalPodcast #GhostStories #HauntedHistory #RealHauntings #SpiritsAmongUs Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Welcome to a new episode of The Way Out Is In: The Zen Art of Living, a podcast series mirroring Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh's deep teachings of Buddhist philosophy: a simple yet profound methodology for dealing with our suffering, and for creating more happiness and joy in our lives. This special episode – part one of two question-and-response (Q&R) installments – commemorates the publication of the second book by Zen Buddhist monk Brother Phap Huu and leadership coach Jo Confino, which was published earlier this year. Calm in the Storm: Zen Ways to Cultivate Stability in an Anxious World is intended to help readers meet the current polycrisis with stability and resilience, but also forcefulness and love. According to Plum Village tradition, Jo and Brother Phap Huu recorded two episodes that respond to listeners' questions which connect to the book's themes – from balancing kindness and anger in challenging times to staying compassionate with a world where there’s little deep listening; how to best support young people; caring for oneself while serving others; and much more. Enjoy! List of resources Pilgrimage: ‘In the Footsteps of the Buddha’https://plumvillage.org/event/pilgrimage/in-the-footsteps-of-the-buddha-2 Being with Busyness: Zen Ways to Transform Overwhelm and Burnouthttps://www.parallax.org/product/being-with-busyness/ Calm in the Storm: Zen Ways to Cultivate Stability in an Anxious Worldhttps://www.parallax.org/product/calm-in-the-storm/ Interbeinghttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interbeing The Order of Interbeinghttps://plumvillage.org/community/order-of-interbeing Plum Village Traditionhttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plum_Village_Tradition The Way Out Is In: ‘The Three Jewels (Episode #89)'https://plumvillage.org/podcast/the-three-jewels-episode-89 Sister Chan Dieu Nghiem (Sister Jina) https://plumvillage.org/people/dharma-teachers/sr-dieu-nghiem Dharma Talks: ‘The Five Skandhas of Grasping and Non-Self​'https://plumvillage.org/library/dharma-talks/the-five-skandhas-of-grasping-and-non-self%E2%80%8B-dharma-talk-by-br-phap-lai-2018-06-08 The Way Out Is In: ‘Joanna Macy's Message of Hope' https://plumvillage.org/podcast/joanna-macys-message-of-hope The Way Out Is In: ‘Active Hope: The Wisdom of Joanna Macy (Episode #25)'https://plumvillage.org/podcast/active-hope-the-wisdom-of-joanna-macy-episode-25 The Way Out Is In: ‘Grief and Joy on a Planet in Crisis: Joanna Macy on the Best Time to Be Alive (Episode #12)'https://plumvillage.org/podcast/grief-and-joy-on-a-planet-in-crisis-joanna-macy-on-the-best-time-to-be-alive-episode-12 ‘Three Resources Explaining the Plum Village Tradition of Lazy Days'https://plumvillage.app/three-resources-explaining-the-plum-village-tradition-of-lazy-days/ Śāriputra https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%9A%C4%81riputra Rāhulahttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R%C4%81hula How To: ‘Begin Anew'https://plumvillage.org/articles/begin-anew Quotes “Do we control the world? We’re controlling our actions, if we’re mindful. But most of us let our actions control us. We let worry control us; we let the news control us; we let fake news control us; we let stories control us. We let energies that may be untrue control us.” “We have to have the ability to generate joy and to be in touch with simple happiness and, even in moments of bitterness and difficulty, to come back to the present moment and ask the question, ‘What am I grateful for? What things surrounding me can I devote myself to, because I’m grateful for them?'” “Thay always reminded us to take joy and happiness seriously, and, in our modern times, people who come to Buddhism and spirituality, in particular, become allergic to the words ‘happiness' and ‘love' and ‘smiles' because they're not celebrated enough in the world. Because it looks too hippie-dippie. They seem too easy, in a way. But knowing that joy is always accessible is enlightenment, is healing, is love.” “Each and every one of us, when we start the journey of practice, really have to take seriously how to generate joy every day, with no exceptions. Don’t take it for granted.” “Compassion is the foundation for not burning out, for not becoming hateful, for not becoming toxic. It is the foundation of understanding and love.” “When you don’t have enough joy, lean into other people’s joy. You’re not alone.” “The whole purpose of mindfulness is to more deeply understand ourselves, and then to more deeply understand how we relate to the world.” “When you know how to listen, you’re already a teacher in the dharma – not through your spoken words, but through your way of just being. So don’t underestimate the practice of deep listening, because that can open the doors to people’s hearts as well as allowing them to touch healing. Because deep listening allows us to be vulnerable; it allows us to cry the tears that need to be shed to water our fields of pain and our seeds of love, understanding, and kindness. That is all deep listening; meditation is deep listening.” “Wherever there is darkness, light is already there, because the two coexists – and wherever there is light, there is darkness.” “Accept despair and let it deeply touch and tenderize your heart. Because that’s what despair can do. Rather than seeing it as “the end of a journey, see it as something we touch deeply and which can begin a new journey.” “There’s something about taking the longer view and recognizing the great arc of time and not becoming so caught up in this moment, as though it’s the only moment. Recognize that life will continue in many forms, and trust in that.” “We have to use both wings of meditation – stopping and looking deeply – in every crisis that we find ourselves in or find ourselves facing.”

Support the pod and join our beautiful soccer community: https://www.patreon.com/samsarmy PREMIER LEAGUE: Enzo Maresca's master plan to generate hype as Pep 2.0 is working perfectly. Aston Villa led by Morgan Rogers are a problem. #FrankOut at Tottenham? Arsenal start feeling City's heat. Leeds may have fixed their glaring problem. HALFTIME: Pop Quiz - odds to win AFCON ROUND THE WORLD: storylines and narratives worth paying attention to at AFCON STOPPAGE TIME: Ivan Toney's Best Bets and GOAWs

Christmas is not about having it all together. It is the reminder that God chose to come close precisely because we do not. In this episode, John reflects on what it means for Jesus to enter into the real pressures of Christmas week, including stress, regret, loneliness, family wounds, and the feeling of not being ready or worthy. Drawing from the Nativity, Scripture, and his own story of addiction and conversion, John reminds us that Jesus does not wait for perfection; He waits for permission. Christ is born into a stable, not a palace, to show us that our brokenness is not something to hide from Him, but the very place He longs to enter and heal. Consider supporting our ministry through iGiveCatholic: https://www.igivecatholic.org/organization/Pew-Ministries Learn more about our pilgrimage: Walk in the Footsteps of Pope St. John Paul II with John

Some houses don't scare you all at once. They wear you down in private moments. For thirteen years, this house did exactly that. It was worst in the bathroom — specifically during showers. Every time he closed his eyes, the same image appeared: a young girl with long dark hair, standing perfectly still beside the tub. She never moved. She never spoke. But she always held something. Other parts of the house carried their own weight. Footsteps on the stairs when no one else was home. Shadows that crossed hallways too fast to follow. A presence that made friends refuse to stay the night — and made being alone feel unbearable. Then one afternoon, while sitting at the computer, he heard a voice from the stairs ask a question that sent him running out the front door and calling his mother in tears. This isn't a story about one moment. It's about years of being watched — and knowing when something in a house doesn't want you comfortable. #RealGhostStories #TrueParanormal #HauntedHouse #CreepyVoices #ShadowFigures #UnexplainedEncounters #ParanormalPodcast #RealHauntings #ListenerStories #TrueGhostStory  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

The Truth About Gumballs for the young and young at heart. Sit down, young folks, and I'll tell you a story of long ago.    There was a time when I, too, was young, and we used money you could hold, put in your pocket, and drop into vending machines. Ladies carried coin purses especially for coins. Coins were collected carefully, sorted, and counted because we would save them up to buy something, maybe a comic book or a pint of ice cream. In emergencies, we'd use those coins for lunch money, a little embarrassed if we didn't have two quarters to hand the cashier. Everyone knew if you paid with dimes, nickels, and pennies, your parents had come up short.   Coins could also be used as toys. You could play something like a cross between table hockey and marbles (look up how to play marbles) with coins, and I liked setting up basketball and football plays with them the way coaches use whiteboards now. Boys sometimes played quarters, but I couldn't afford to lose mine, so I didn't play that game.   One of the great things about coins was that back then, people paid for things with money, and they received change in coins. Dad would empty his pockets of change coins into an old ashtray at the end of the day along with bits of red, blue, and white electrical wire, leftover screws, plastic wire nuts, and guitar picks. What I aimed for, though, was making sure those pockets were emptied before we made it back home.   While Dad paid the cashier at a restaurant, I'd inspect the area around the cashier for gumball machines. There was usually at least one. I always checked the dispenser because sometimes a good Samaritan would leave a piece of gum, or if you turned the lever, a stuck piece might drop out. The timing was important, though. Just as the cashier would hand Dad his change, hopefully with lots of coins, I'd dash in and beam my most angelic smile.   I could usually score at least enough coins for one gumball, and on a good day, two. If he was short on dollar bills, then my gumballs would be forfeited for the tip. Dad always tipped. Everyone should. Even if you can't buy a gumball. Here's why.   There's a passage in Scripture that teaches about gumballs. Don't believe me? Listen closely:   • "Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. He led you through the vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions. He brought you water out of hard rock. He gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never known, to humble and test you so that in the end it might go well with you. You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms his covenant, which he swore to your ancestors, as it is today." (Dt 8:11-18)   God is explaining to the Israelites that the gumball machine doesn't work like they think it does. At first, they were in the wilderness. The Father gave them manna every morning; all they had to do was pick it up. It was like the gumballs just started rolling out of the machine all by themselves.   When they enter the Land of Israel, though, they will have to do something their parents' generation never had to do: sow, cultivate, reap, and thresh to make the produce they'd eat. The extent of the wilderness food effort was their gathering manna that miraculously appeared each morning except Shabbat. God let them be a only little hungry in the wilderness to test them. He didn't starve them, just let them get a little hungry.   Being a little hungry is not a horrible thing, but it was their test to see if their hunger would make them angry with God for not making everything completely comfortable. When we don't get what we want when we want, often we become angry with other people, which is a sign we're angry with God. We think we deserve better. We think if God made us, He should treat us better. That's a test probably everyone but Yeshua has failed at one time or another.   When the Israelites entered the Promised Land, they would be blessed to work and accumulate their own wealth. The danger was that they might be deceived into thinking their wealth was a result of their own efforts. They might think they put the coins in the machine, exerted the effort, and therefore, gumballs would fall freely because they turned the lever. They could become pretty proud of themselves for making so much money by planting and harvesting crops.    But the Heavenly Father is not a gumball machine, and the Land of Israel doesn't just produce crops because Israelites plant, cultivate, and harvest.   When I was really young, I never thought about how the gumballs got into the machine or who put the machine there. I only knew that if a coin went in, and I turned the lever, gum would roll out. The coin and I were all that really mattered. When I grew a little older, I realized that someone put the machine there to make money, usually for some charity listed on a sticker, and someone came and refilled the machine even though I never saw it happening.    If what I didn't see didn't happen first, then what I saw and did couldn't happen later.    The gumball machine owner supplied gum for me to buy, but it also provided the profit to the needy. If I'd known that earlier, I'd have pressed a lot harder for extra coins to buy more gumballs to “help the needy.”    And there's the problem in our fallen human nature. We're greedy. Would as many people just drop coins in a charity box as they did the gumball machine?    I think many would. And Israelites should.   On Erev Shabbat, we have a chance to do that, to drop coins in a charity box without receiving anything, gumballs included, in return. It's called a tzedekah box. Before lighting the Shabbat candles, we drop some money in a tzedekah box, and when the container is full, the money is given to a worthy cause.   Israelites should be willing to give because the Heavenly Father gave to them first, and they want to share with others. They know they didn't earn the money alone. The Heavenly Father released that money with His own hand in an unseen action. If that unseen action didn't take place, then we wouldn't have the ability to earn it.    To understand it takes something called faith. “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, and the evidence of things not seen.” (He 11:1) Do we literally see the Father release our income? No, we can't. It happens in a spiritual realm, which is something very difficult for our eyes to see and our mind to believe. And yet, it's the truth!   Not one seed would grow if the Word was not releasing it to do so. The Father watches His special creations, human beings, and must shake His head when they believe they earned their money without Him. Just because a gumball fell out of the machine after we worked to get the coin, put it in the machine, and turned the lever, that doesn't mean we alone made the gumball appear. An Israelite must be different from other people who don't know or believe that.   The Heavenly Father opens a window in Heaven, which gives us the power to earn money and profit from our labors. It's a mistake to think that we alone are responsible for how much or how little we have. Something happens first that we don't see, and that allows us to do our work and earn.    We, in turn, have the power to give some of that wealth to others. If we believe that something happened first: the Heavenly Father created everything, including us, and He supplies seeds, sun, and rain to make things grow, and then He opens an unseen door to release the increase when we work, then we understand the truth of the gumball machine. We have no reason to be stingy with others because the Father has not been stingy with us. He said we should remember this because it is part of our Covenant with Him. An agreement.   In this case, our agreement is that no matter how much it seems only our efforts produced our coins, we'll believe the Father first made us able to do so. That truth of our faith will trigger us to in turn do what is in our ability to bless others. Instead of saying, “The work of my hand got me this, so it's mine to keep,” we'll share a generous portion with the needy because the Father's hand was in it. We're in a real partnership with Him, not just standing there waiting with our empty baskets in the wilderness every morning.   This is how we lend that money to the Father until He decides to open up Heaven a little more for the needy person:   • "One who is gracious to a poor man lends to the LORD, and He will repay him for his good deed." (Pr 19:17)   But just like the faith that sees the unseen, releasing the power to work and make money, that same faith sees that the repayment, or at least most of it, the Father holds in our heavenly bank accounts for us to have in eternity. Imagine that...a loan that will be repaid to us forever. Gumballs rolling through infinity.   “Faith was never meant to replace action. It was meant to guide it.” - Juda Honickman  

Several of the CFMT favorite detectives - Will Ruby, Eddie James and Susie Beck, Lord Ashford - along with Will's fiancé Roberta and Monty's valet, Emil Whitlock, have traveled to New York City for the annual Association of Private Detectives convention. Will and Roberta have invited their two favorite cabbies, Agnes and Doris, to join them at the convention for what they consider the silliest part - the made-up crime. When a real crime is committed, the gang gets a chance to show just how brilliant they really are. CASTRoberta / Alice - Lauren BaumbauerAgnes - Lisa FredricksonJosie / Carlotta - Genevieve Grady-GrotDoris / Susie - Val KuhnsMonty / Emcee / Guard - Max LevineWill / Emil - Mike LuceAnnouncer / Eddie - Richard TatumTalbot / Teasdale / Danny - Keith WrightStory by Val KuhnsSound Editing by Val Kuhns

#paranormal #supernatural A teleporting shadow figure, a voice heard in an empty alley, and more true paranormal stories from the web. Have you ever had an experience with the paranormal, supernatural, and / or unexplained, that you would like others to know about? If so, let me know. You can reach me at; salsidoparanormal@gmail.com Please follow Jen, the co-host of Salsido Paranormal. https://linktr.ee/jenniferhawkins_arcana Follow Mike, host of Troubled Minds Radio. https://www.troubledminds.org/ You can now listen to 2 episodes of the show every night at 6 pm Pacific / 9 pm Eastern on the Troubled Minds Radio Network KUAP-DB! https://www.troubledminds.org/ Also, if you or anyone you know should ever feel like there is no hope, or help, please consider the information in the link below. Special thanks to Michael Strange for putting this page together. https://www.troubledminds.net/help You can find all episodes, social media, and ways to support the show via the links below. https://www.salsidoparanormal.com/ https://allmylinks.com/salsidoparanor1 https://www.bonfire.com/store/salsido-paranormal/ Do you want to listen to the live recording streams for the show, and chat with others while you're at it? Join the Discord server. https://discord.gg/v4GEb6k3EV  

For Matthew, the strange events began in childhood: glimpses of something impossibly tall leaning out from behind furniture, tapping on doors in the dark, and a shove that sent him running for help. Years passed with nothing… until he and his wife bought a new home that should've been nothing more than a fresh start. Instead, the shadows returned. Footsteps in the night. Doors that open without opening. A figure that looks exactly like his wife, appearing in places she isn't. And moments of physical contact that leave no trace — but no doubt something is there. But the most disturbing encounter wasn't his. It was his wife's: a pale, dust-colored man crouched in the hallway, replaying the violent moment of his death in a loop she could see but Matthew could not. Whatever is in their home shifts shape, intention, and emotion — playful one moment, heavy and suffocating the next. And the question they're left with is the one no one wants to ask: Did something follow them into this house…or was something already waiting? #HauntedHouse #ShadowFigure #MimicSpirit #ParanormalStory #RealGhostStories #GhostEncounter #ReplayHaunting #ChildhoodEntity #HomeHaunting #TrueParanormal Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

It's a conversation that we would rather have no need to take place with a woman who I'd rather never have met, at least in the context in which we have met. 15 years ago this week, Tal Hartuv was nearly stabbed to death as she witnessed the murder of her friend Kristine Luken, an American Christian, before her eyes. Its an auspicious "anniversary," especially in the wake of two years of war against Islamic terrorists, and the recent "ceasefire" that saw one of the savages who stabbed her multiple times and murdered Kristine, released. This is a compelling and important reflection based on current events Get information about how you can join FOOTSTEPS at https://genesis123.co/footsteps/For information about and how to register for Root & Branch, please go to www.RootandBranchIsrael.comConnect with the Genesis 123 Foundation at www.Genesis123.co and learn how you can host Shabbat in your community.FB - www.facebook.com/Genesis123Foundation Twitter - @Genesis123FIG - Genesis_123_FoundationFind out how you can be part of Run for Zion and bless Israel with every step at www.RunforZion.com.

We live in a culture that hates to wait. Lines, delays, silence, and stillness all feel like problems to solve instead of places to meet God. In this episode, John reflects on how Advent invites us to do the opposite: to slow down, to wait, and to let the Lord work beneath the surface of our busy lives, even in seasons of suffering like his father's recent cancer diagnosis. Waiting exposes our fears, idols, and false escapes, and how God uses it to strip away unhealthy self-reliance and grow patience, humility, obedience, and trust. Drawing from Scripture, the lives of Mary and Joseph, he discusses concrete ways to step back from distraction and become more receptive to the grace God wants to give in these final days before Christmas. Consider supporting our ministry through iGiveCatholic: https://www.igivecatholic.org/organization/Pew-Ministries Learn more about our pilgrimage: Walk in the Footsteps of Pope St. John Paul II with John

Shanda didn't believe her boyfriend's little mid-century Austin house held anything darker than outdated wiring or a few creaky floors. Built in the 1950s, remodeled to death, colorful, quirky—nothing about it screamed haunted. And yet the moment she stepped inside, she felt something beneath the bright paint and modern upgrades. Not evil. Not angry. But aware. Then she saw her. A tall, thin woman in a pale pink gown, standing perfectly still in the living room, watching from the shadows as if she belonged there. By the time her boyfriend turned around, the apparition was gone—but the house wasn't finished with her. Objects moved on their own. Items vanished only to reappear across the room in impossible places. Footsteps whispered through the walls at night. A man's voice. A boy's voice. Arguing. Always arguing. Years later, she still wonders what truly lived in that house—because some hauntings warn you. Others protect you. And some blur the line between both. #ghoststory #paranormal #hauntedhouse #truespiritstory #realghoststories #ghostencounter #shadowfigure #haunting #supernatural #ghosts #theunexplained Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Tucked away in a near-ghost town in rural Kansas stands a towering church built in 1904—its spires still reaching skyward, even as the world around it has faded away. Time may have emptied the pews, but something else never left. This forgotten church witnessed a lifetime of human emotion: baptisms, weddings, funerals, whispered prayers, and final goodbyes. Those moments didn't disappear when the doors closed—they soaked into the walls, the floors, the very bones of the building. Now, paranormal investigator Robert Garcia and his team are breathing new life into this abandoned landmark, restoring it not just as a structure, but as a place of gathering once again. But as work begins, it becomes clear they aren't alone. Footsteps echo where no one walks. Presences linger where congregations once sat. And some believe the faithful still return… long after their earthly services ended. This is Part Two of our conversation. #HauntedChurch #KansasHauntings #ParanormalInvestigation #AbandonedPlaces #GhostStories #TrueParanormal #HauntedKansas #SpiritsAmongUs #TheGraveTalks #RealGhostStories Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Tucked away in a near-ghost town in rural Kansas stands a towering church built in 1904—its spires still reaching skyward, even as the world around it has faded away. Time may have emptied the pews, but something else never left. This forgotten church witnessed a lifetime of human emotion: baptisms, weddings, funerals, whispered prayers, and final goodbyes. Those moments didn't disappear when the doors closed—they soaked into the walls, the floors, the very bones of the building. Now, paranormal investigator Robert Garcia and his team are breathing new life into this abandoned landmark, restoring it not just as a structure, but as a place of gathering once again. But as work begins, it becomes clear they aren't alone. Footsteps echo where no one walks. Presences linger where congregations once sat. And some believe the faithful still return… long after their earthly services ended. #HauntedChurch #KansasHauntings #ParanormalInvestigation #AbandonedPlaces #GhostStories #TrueParanormal #HauntedKansas #SpiritsAmongUs #TheGraveTalks #RealGhostStories  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Sadly Self-Employed I've been thinking a lot lately about greed. That's because in our short break from Song of Songs, we've studied salt covenant in our weekly Zoom classes. Although it's only about eight weeks of material, it's been packed with very practical ideas to improve our spiritual life today.   In particular, what's been weighing in my thoughts is the premise that unsavory salt, the kind that has lost its savor, is at its root, greed. In short, our study has dug into Yeshua's question about salt losing its flavor. How do you make it salty again? The salt had savor at some point, but then lost it.   If you review the last newsletters, Scripture specified that salt is something that comes from within a person. It is a softness and tenderness toward the Word and one's neighbor. It's the best part of our sacrifices for the Kingdom and Covenant that fulfills it, and without the salt, commandment-keeping is lacking:   • Every grain offering of yours, moreover, you shall season with salt, so that the salt of the covenant of your God shall not be lacking from your grain offering; with all your offerings you shall offer salt. (Le 2:13)   We can't put unsalty salt on a sacrifice or work of the Word:   • “Salt is good; but if the salt becomes unsalty, with what will you make it salty again? Have salt in yourselves and be at peace with one another.” (Mk 9:50)   “Have salt in yourselves ? be at peace with one another.”   So if we lose saltiness, we aren't tender any longer.   We can actually keep the letter of the commandments, but when it doesn't come from a tenderness within us, it doesn't create peace. That's salt without savor, and those commandments are not acceptable sacrifices for the Covenant, which must not be lacking salt. Defective salt is like a defective animal. No go. Unaccepted.    • Therefore, if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering. (Mt 5:23-24)   Leave the gift at the altar, go get salty again, make things right with your neighbor, then return, and the gift will be accepted because it came from tenderness toward the Father, which in turn made you tender toward His creation, your brother:   • “If you do well, will not your countenance be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Ge 4:7)   Kain was told to put his happy face on with Abel, and then his gift would be accepted. Kain had short-changed the sacrifice by not bringing his best. He didn't bring first fruits; instead, he brought "of the fruit of the ground." Produce, just not his best. Begrudging, for sure. Instead of repenting of his greed, putting on his happy face, and bringing his best, he simply took out his anger and frustration with Elohim by killing his brother.   Put another way, we can be about the Father's business diligently, keeping His commandments, and because of worry and distraction about our income, we find ourselves self-employed, like Martha, who resented Mary's relationship to Yeshua in receiving the Word. Daily we have to remind ourselves to make an "upper room" in our twenty-four hours to simply sit before the Father's Word and soak up His Presence in study and prayer.   Doing things is important; it is the sacrifice we make for our families and the Body of Messiah. Without the salt from within, however, those works of the Covenant are lacking. The very meaning of sacrifice is "draw near," korban.    Does doing a commandment draw us closer to the Father?   If not, it may have become our business instead of His. That's unsavory salt and greed.    When we salt the mitzvot of the Covenant, we exert ourselves, just as savory salt comes from “within yourselves” to make peace with others. We must exert ourselves commensurate with our “wealth.” While money is the example, the object of our desires is obtained with currency, which can be money, yet we might traffic for influence, power, manipulation, etc. to obtain our desires. Money is simply the currency most commonly used for the transaction to satisfy our greed. Greed is undisciplined and un-discipled desire. Sin. Idolatry of self-serving.   It is easy to construe greed as a desire for money, or mammon, yet the less tangibles are nonetheless greedy: knowledge, esteem, security, attention, pleasure, etc. I have seen believers so drunk on the power of Scriptural knowledge that they habitually beat up their fellow servants with the Word. It is no longer the Father's business; instead, they have become self-employed.    They use His Word not to draw people near the Father, but to enrich themselves. Maybe with donations, maybe with product sales, maybe with just a shot of self-esteem in soliciting invitations to speak or posting controversial statements designed to create a public dust-up for attention.   How can we know when someone is unsavory and self-employed, but they've hung out the shingle of "Kingdom Business"?    It's more important to know when WE'VE done it.    Remember, unsaltiness is an inside problem. You won't always see it on the outside. The sacrifice may look just perfect on the altar.    And Yeshua took donations...a group of women followed him throughout his ministry all the way to the upper room, "ministering to him." They loved him all the way to death (Mt 27:55; Mk 15:41; Lk 23:49,55) Yeshua said controversial things, was a highly-sought-after speaker, and he was definitely in the middle of public dust-ups.   The difference is that Yeshua always did what he did and said what he said on actual Kingdom business. He was drawing people closer to the Father or exposing their self-employment in the commandments. His Spirit will help us to search our own hearts so that we don't become "moneychangers," encroaching on the holy places for our personal enrichment and deceiving people who think we're there to serve and help them draw close to the Presence. Instead, we're self-employed, working on our self-esteem needs or securing donations to fuel the fire of our pleasures.   This is something ministries need to soul-search daily, and it's something a royal priesthood should soul-search daily. That's all of us.    As in my example of the "Nuts" in last week's newsletter, sometimes we have to decide whether we're occupied in interests and ministry we've chosen according to our desire, yet the actual fruit ready to harvest is in a different area. It will be a true sacrifice to do business there, but it's where the Father needs us, not where we want to work. At first.   The phenomenon is that if we will adjust our desire to His, sell out completely to draw near to the Father, our desire will actually change. Really! It will!   This is what Yeshua tried to tell the rich young ruler when he told him he still lacked one thing even though the young man had kept all the commandments since he was a boy. He lacked the savor of salt with his commandment-keeping. The young man did not have enough faith in The Word, Yeshua, that the desire in his heart for his wealth would be changed by selling it:   • "But he was sad at this word, and went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions." (Mk 10:22)   Salt is faith in the Word. It is what prevents us from becoming self-employed in unsavory commandment-keeping. The rich young man would never know the wonder and joy of finding a coin inside a fish's mouth or sharing a simple breakfast on the beach with the resurrected Messiah. A righteous king.   A truly rich man is one who is satisfied with what the Father puts in his hand from above, whether little or much; a truly poor man is one who is never satisfied with what he possesses below, whether little or much.    A truly rich man rejoices in exerting himself and his resources in his Father's business; a truly poor man goes away sad.   Yeshua asks what we are anxious, worried, sad, and distracted about, even in doing the commandments, for they are how we withhold ourselves from him. These things dilute our salt. They may be our desire, but they are not the "best part" that brings peace, the part that we spend at his feet learning, talking to him, lingering in his Presence. This requires us to exert ourselves to bring the lacking salt. Maybe it means selling off some wrong ideas about things that mean a lot to us.   Mary sat at Yeshua's feet. She had to look up to him before she went to work. Martha did it backward. She worked, but because she was self-employed that day, she took out her frustration by blaming Mary and looking down on Yeshua's willingness to "discipline" her sister. She couldn't see he was discipling them both that day. She needed to look up first with joy in his presence.   Start with salt, the best part within. What we do each day is His business.   When we go into the world to give charity, be kind to others, speak peaceably, reconcile the world to their Creator, and shine the light of obeying the commandments, it will not be a labor of convenience. If we have prepared with salt, though, the exertion will be rewarding and change our taste.   Do I mean how we taste to others?   Or how we savor our labor for the King?   Yes.

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Some people meet the paranormal by accident. Lance Anderson met it at home. Long before he ever stepped foot in a morgue, Lance's childhood was shaped by the quiet—yet unmistakable—presence of visitors no one else could see. Footsteps that knew the hallways too well. Doors that seemed to remember when to open. Sounds that belonged to someone who shouldn't have been there at all. Those early experiences didn't scare Lance away from the unknown—they prepared him for a career spent alongside it. Working in a morgue isn't for everyone, but for someone raised with an awareness of the other side, it felt strangely natural. Still, even he learned quickly that spirits don't always respect working hours… or silence. And sometimes, humor becomes the only way to bridge a world the living and the dead share. Lance reflects on a lifetime of haunted moments, unexplained encounters, and a vocation where the line between the natural and the supernatural blurs nightly. What does it take to coexist with those who haven't fully moved on? And how do you handle a spirit who refuses to rest? This is Part Two of our conversation. #morguestories #ghoststories #paranormalencounters #trueghoststories #hauntedchildhood #supernatural #workingwiththedead #spirits Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Some people meet the paranormal by accident. Lance Anderson met it at home. Long before he ever stepped foot in a morgue, Lance's childhood was shaped by the quiet—yet unmistakable—presence of visitors no one else could see. Footsteps that knew the hallways too well. Doors that seemed to remember when to open. Sounds that belonged to someone who shouldn't have been there at all. Those early experiences didn't scare Lance away from the unknown—they prepared him for a career spent alongside it. Working in a morgue isn't for everyone, but for someone raised with an awareness of the other side, it felt strangely natural. Still, even he learned quickly that spirits don't always respect working hours… or silence. And sometimes, humor becomes the only way to bridge a world the living and the dead share. Lance reflects on a lifetime of haunted moments, unexplained encounters, and a vocation where the line between the natural and the supernatural blurs nightly. What does it take to coexist with those who haven't fully moved on? And how do you handle a spirit who refuses to rest? #morguestories #ghoststories #paranormalencounters #trueghoststories #hauntedchildhood #supernatural #workingwiththedead #spirits Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Welcome to a new episode of The Way Out Is In: The Zen Art of Living, a podcast series mirroring Zen Master Thich Nhat Hanh's deep teachings of Buddhist philosophy: a simple yet profound methodology for dealing with our suffering, and for creating more happiness and joy in our lives. In this installment, Zen Buddhist monk Brother Phap Huu and leadership coach Jo Confino explore the lifelong journey of self-forgiveness and how to forgive ourselves. How do we find the capacity to let go of past hurts and come into the fullness of our lives?  The conversation also touches upon themes like self-love, self-compassion, community, spiritual growth, impermanence, the coexistence of suffering and happiness, and the importance of ongoing practice. Brother Phap Huu discusses the Buddhist perspective of the Dharma threading through time, embracing past, present, and future; how loving oneself begins with recognizing and accepting one's stories and scars; the importance of treating oneself with kindness and compassion; acknowledging unskillful actions; practicing with the inner child; and much more. In addition, personal stories shared by the presenters illustrate how forgiveness and self-love evolve over time, and that forgiving oneself is vital for genuine compassion and service. The episode concludes with aspirations for the new year. Co-produced by the Plum Village App:https://plumvillage.app/ And Global Optimism:https://globaloptimism.com/ With support from the Thich Nhat Hanh Foundation:https://thichnhathanhfoundation.org/ List of resources Pilgrimage: ‘In the Footsteps of the Buddha’https://plumvillage.org/event/pilgrimage/in-the-footsteps-of-the-buddha-2 Being with Busyness: Zen Ways to Transform Overwhelm and Burnouthttps://www.parallax.org/product/being-with-busyness/ Calm in the Storm: Zen Ways to Cultivate Stability in an Anxious Worldhttps://www.parallax.org/product/calm-in-the-storm/ Interbeinghttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interbeing The Way Out Is In: ‘Healing Our Inner Child: Pathways to Embrace Our Suffering (Episode #10)'https://plumvillage.org/podcast/healing-our-inner-child-pathways-to-embrace-our-suffering The Way Out Is In: ‘The Three Jewels (Episode #89)'https://plumvillage.org/podcast/the-three-jewels-episode-89 ‘Looking Deeply: Healing the Inner Child'https://plumvillage.org/articles/healing-the-inner-child The Inner Child (short guided meditation)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zauJYihF2fQ Dharma Talks: ‘Taking Refuge in the Three Jewels'https://plumvillage.org/library/dharma-talks/taking-refuge-in-the-three-jewels-sr-chan-duc-spring-retreat-2018-05-20 John Bradshawhttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Bradshaw_(author) Sutras: ‘Discourse on Knowing the Better Way to Live Alone'https://plumvillage.org/library/sutras/discourse-on-knowing-the-better-way-to-live-alone The Order of Interbeinghttps://plumvillage.org/community/order-of-interbeing Quotes “What we have learned in the art of mindful living and the art of love and understanding is that we are ever-changing. We’re constantly changing. The Buddha has said that we cannot bathe in the same river twice. When we bathe in that river, the river is not the same and we are not the same.” “The Buddha says that suffering is made of non-suffering elements – and that means you have happiness inside.” “What I’ve learned from my journey is that healing is always a verb.” “There is no way to healing; healing is the way.” “Our practice of listening is very important. When we say we have to learn to listen, listen not to respond, but just to listen. Listen to acknowledge, accept, and witness.” “It’s important to be in the present moment, but it's also important to have an aspiration to bring into the present moment – not to see in the future, but to see coming alive right now.”

For her, the paranormal wasn't a surprise; it was an inheritance. She was born into a bloodline where intuition ran deeper than memory, where sensing the unseen wasn't unusual—it was expected. But nothing could have prepared her for how intimately the spirits would weave themselves into her life. From the moment a six-year-old girl saw a shadowy figure wearing her brother's Halloween mask, the line between the physical world and the one just beyond it began to blur. No matter where the family moved—new house, old house, even a pristine suburban home—the activity followed. Footsteps in empty rooms. Lights flicking with intention. Whispers threading themselves through the dark. And later, the unmistakable weight of phantom animals curling at her feet as if she were their chosen guardian. But not all presences came softly. Some watched her more closely. Some learned her rhythms. Some seemed to be waiting. Now, standing between curiosity and caution, she realizes something profound: the spirits aren't just haunting her life— they're trying to welcome her into theirs. #ParanormalLife #GrowingUpHaunted #GenerationalSensitivity #SpiritEncounters #HauntedHomes #ShadowFigures #Medium #GhostStories #RealParanormal #Ghosts Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

For her, the paranormal wasn't a surprise; it was an inheritance. She was born into a bloodline where intuition ran deeper than memory, where sensing the unseen wasn't unusual—it was expected. But nothing could have prepared her for how intimately the spirits would weave themselves into her life. From the moment a six-year-old girl saw a shadowy figure wearing her brother's Halloween mask, the line between the physical world and the one just beyond it began to blur. No matter where the family moved—new house, old house, even a pristine suburban home—the activity followed. Footsteps in empty rooms. Lights flicking with intention. Whispers threading themselves through the dark. And later, the unmistakable weight of phantom animals curling at her feet as if she were their chosen guardian. But not all presences came softly. Some watched her more closely. Some learned her rhythms. Some seemed to be waiting. Now, standing between curiosity and caution, she realizes something profound: the spirits aren't just haunting her life— they're trying to welcome her into theirs. #ParanormalLife #GrowingUpHaunted #GenerationalSensitivity #SpiritEncounters #HauntedHomes #ShadowFigures #Medium #GhostStories #RealParanormal #Ghosts Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

She moved into the small ranch house thinking it would be temporary, a quiet place to study and sleep between long shifts and early classes. But the house had plans long before she ever turned the key. The cupboards opened on their own. Footsteps crossed the kitchen at hours no one should be awake. Something moved in the basement—slow, deliberate, almost testing the air for her. And then the storm came. Lightning lit the windows white. Thunder rolled through the walls. And in that moment, as if the house had been waiting for the perfect crack of darkness, the basement light blew out in a burst of sparks… even though the bulb was never broken afterward. That's when she heard it. A child's laugh. She fled. And what followed her to the door wasn't footsteps—but pressure. Attention. A presence that seemed to lean up from the dark, curious about the one person inside who could feel it. But sometimes, when she drives past that part of town, she swears the house still feels awake—still watching the road—still waiting for the next person foolish enough to live there alone. #truehaunting #darkentity #basementterror #childspirit #paranormalhorror #realghoststories #unexplainedactivity #hauntedhome #supernaturalencounter #somethinginthebasement Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Many men want to do better as husbands and fathers but feel lost on where to begin. In this episode, John welcomes back author and founder of the Fathers of St. Joseph, Devin Schadt, to talk about his new book The Rule, a practical guide for living the spirituality of St. Joseph in everyday life. Devin shares how the book was born out of his own discouragement and how men repeatedly asked for clear, concrete direction on becoming the men God created them to be. He and John discuss the pillars of St. Joseph's life, the importance of sonship, vocation, and spiritual authority, and why true growth happens when men embrace small daily practices with humility and perseverance. If you have ever felt overwhelmed by your responsibilities or unsure how to take the next step in your spiritual life, this conversation offers simple, actionable wisdom grounded in the heart of St. Joseph. Check out Devin's new book, The Rule: Amazon: https://a.co/d/iD9TxjI Sophia Press: https://sophiainstitute.com/product/the-rule And check out more of his work: https://catholicgentleman.com/ https://fathersofstjoseph.org/ Learn more about our pilgrimage: Walk in the Footsteps of Pope St. John Paul II with John

Shanda didn't believe her boyfriend's little mid-century Austin house held anything darker than outdated wiring or a few creaky floors. Built in the 1950s, remodeled to death, colorful, quirky—nothing about it screamed haunted. And yet the moment she stepped inside, she felt something beneath the bright paint and modern upgrades. Not evil. Not angry. But aware. Then she saw her. A tall, thin woman in a pale pink gown, standing perfectly still in the living room, watching from the shadows as if she belonged there. By the time her boyfriend turned around, the apparition was gone—but the house wasn't finished with her. Objects moved on their own. Items vanished only to reappear across the room in impossible places. Footsteps whispered through the walls at night. A man's voice. A boy's voice. Arguing. Always arguing. Years later, she still wonders what truly lived in that house—because some hauntings warn you. Others protect you. And some blur the line between both. #ghoststory #paranormal #hauntedhouse #truespiritstory #realghoststories #ghostencounter #shadowfigure #haunting #supernatural #ghosts #theunexplained Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

Trish's fitness journey began with the birth of her first child, Jess, in 1990. Her mom had battled with obesity and was unable to participate in most activities. Trish was determined to do it differently and wanted to be fit enough to be active with her kids. Her running journey began in 2020  when her next daughter Ally signed up to run a marathon and asked her to train to run a 5k with her as part of her training. Her initial response was "I'm not a runner", but ultimately, she couldn't say no. Trish talks about learning to run in your 40's and 50's and the importance of strength training. She had to overcome hip surgery and begin learning how to build up properly. Eventually, with a lot of work and even more determination she ran a full marathon herself.  For my personal trainign blog: Patreon! Find more from the podcast @trailrunningwomenpod  My personal @hilsport55 

Some hauntings whisper. Others walk straight through your living room in the middle of the night. But the one in this episode… speaks. It starts with footsteps no one can explain — heavy, deliberate, pacing outside a closed bathroom door when only two people were home. Footsteps that sounded exactly like her… even though she was on the opposite side of the house. But the real shock comes hours later, when a simple bedtime routine with a Google Home device derails into something far stranger. A familiar command. A familiar response. Then suddenly… a voice that doesn't belong to any programmed setting. A tone that feels warmer, older, almost personal. And a message no algorithm should know. Was it a glitch? A prank? Or the unmistakable attempt of someone — or something — trying to reach across the divide? #ghoststory #paranormalactivity #hauntedtech #googlehomeghost #realghoststoriesonline #hauntedhouse #supernaturalencounter #ghostvoice #smartdeviceglitch #paranormalstories #ghostencounter #creepyfootsteps  Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story:

In 1966, six Denver high school students went camping at Daniels Park — and stumbled into one of the strangest cases of UFO and paranormal crossover ever recorded. Known as The Campfire Creep, the group reported buzzing noises, footsteps on the roof, a tall man in a black coat who vanished before their eyes, and glowing egg-shaped craft that disabled their car as they fled. In this episode of Just Another Tin Foil Hat, Zelia Edgar dives deep into this bizarre night — exploring how it blurs the lines between UFO encounters, hauntings, and classic poltergeist phenomena. Was it a visitation, a shared hallucination, or something that slips between dimensions? ⏱️ Chapters 00:00 – Intro: The Campfire Creep Case 01:20 – The Teenagers of Daniels Park 03:45 – The Lighted Object & Humming Noise 06:10 – The Tall Man in the Black Coat 08:05 – Footsteps on the Roof 10:00 – Egg-Shaped Lights & Engine Failure 12:40 – Police Reaction & Other Witnesses 15:15 – Haunted Campsite or UFO Encounter? 17:30 – Blurring the Lines: UFOs & Poltergeists 19:45 – Zelia's Final Thoughts Subscribe to Just Another Tin Foil Hat on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@JustAnotherTinFoilHat #UAP #UFOs #Paranormal #ZeliaEdgar #JustAnotherTinFoilHat #HighStrangeness #ParanormalStories #UnexplainedMysteries #HauntedEncounters #StrangePhenomena #CosmicWeirdness Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

To become a follower of Jesus, visit: https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/MeetJesus (NOT a Morning Mindset resource) ⇒ TODAY'S DAILY SPONSOR: Today’s episode is sponsored by Footsteps with Jesus - connects your daily walks to the path of Christ, offering Scripture, reflections, and blessings along His journey through the Holy Land. - https://footstepswithjesus.com/ You can sponsor a daily episode of the Morning Mindset too, by going to https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/DailySponsor ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ TODAY'S SCRIPTURE: 1 Peter 5:4 - And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. (ESV) ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ FINANCIALLY SUPPORT THE MORNING MINDSET: (not tax-deductible) -- Become a monthly partner: https://mm-gfk-partners.supercast.com/ -- Support a daily episode: https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/daily-sponsor/ -- Give one-time: https://give.cornerstone.cc/careygreen -- Venmo: @CareyNGreen ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ FOREIGN LANGUAGE VERSIONS OF THIS PODCAST: SPANISH version: https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/Spanish HINDI version: https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/Hindi CHINESE version: https://MorningMindsetMedia.com/Chinese  ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ CONTACT: Carey@careygreen.com  ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ THEME MUSIC: “King’s Trailer” – Creative Commons 0 | Provided by https://freepd.com/ ***All NON-ENGLISH versions of the Morning Mindset are translated using A.I. Dubbing and Translation tools from DubFormer.ai ***All NON-ENGLISH text content (descriptions and titles) are translated using the A.I. functionality of Google Translate.

This is a Grave Talks CLASSIC EPISODE! Some kids grow up with monsters under the bed.  Andy Hopkins grew up with them in the hallway — awake, watching, waiting. From the time he was young, spirits seemed to find him with unsettling ease. Shadows that paused just long enough to be noticed. Footsteps that crossed the house with purpose. Nights when the air felt charged with something that didn't want him there. Andy wasn't just seeing ghosts… they were seeing him, too. And not all of them were harmless. What began as a strange sensitivity soon turned into a battle he never asked for — a childhood shaped by whispers, moving darkness, and the sense that something was always just out of view, edging closer. His “gift” wasn't a doorway into wonder. It was an invitation for the dead to step in and stay. This is Part Two of our conversation. #TheGraveTalks #RealGhostStories #ChildhoodHaunting #PsychicGift #SpiritEncounters #ShadowPeople #ParanormalStory #GrowingUpHaunted #GhostlyWhispers #CreepyEncounters Love real ghost stories? Don't just listen—join us on YouTube and be part of the largest community of real paranormal encounters anywhere. Subscribe now and never miss a chilling new story: