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Hurricane Sally

2020.09.14 18:35 CFB_Referee Hurricane Sally

Sally remains a hurricane and is moving slowly.

From the latest public advisory (as of 9/16 11:30 AM ET) Sally is likely to cause issues with rainfall, storm surge, surf, wind tornados, and flooding - including potential inland flooding.
Check your local weather or emergency management agency for more specific information where you are.
 
Please look to local news, local weather, and local and state emergency management agencies to find out more about how you may be affected, if you need to evacuate, and steps on getting prepared. Please everyone stay safe.
 
U Forecasts, Predictions, and Watches/Warnings
 
Tulsa Preparedness & Planning
College students should check out their university's emergency alert system - if you're not signed up to get notices, you should!
Useful links on: hurricane preparedness, emergency kits, emergency supplies for your car.
 
Louisburg Other things worth thinking about or getting:
  • General: A cooler. Fun/mental health stuff - books, games, etc. Cash. Weather radio and batteries. Flashlights > candles. Backup cell phone, laptop, or other batteries. Extra water. Hand sanitizer. Comfort items (a toddler's blankie, the puppy's favorite toy, your grandpa's watch you can't imagine losing).
  • Specialized: Transportation and assistive devices (think especially about children, pets, the elderly, people with disabilities).
  • Cars: Gas. Window breakeseatbelt cutter.
 
Gattaca Florida Safety:
  • Check your smoke detector and carbon monoxide detector batteries!
  • Watch out for downed power lines. Never assume it is dead. Avoid it.
  • Assume floodwaters are deeper than they look. Turn around, don't drown.
  • Learn your flood and evacuation zones!
  • Food safety from the FDA and USDA.
  • If your home floods and you need to go up, head for the roof. Keep an ax in your attic to get out that way if you need it.
  • Be aware of potential 911 delays.
  • Evacuate! If you can, check on people you know to see if they need help evacuating if you can offer it or put them in touch with someone who can.
 
Hertfordshire Documentation:
  • Bring it with you.
  • Store it in a plastic bag to they are together and stay dry.
  • House deed/rental agreement/lease.
  • Insurance information (home, car, renters, medical, flood).
  • Identification (ID card/driver's license, passport, Social Security card, marriage/birth certificates).
  • Take photographs of your home before you evacuate and when you return. Good documentation of the damage may help if you need to file an aid or insurance claim.
 
For long-term preparedness, check out CERT training information.
 
Holland Evacuation
College Information
We'll be updating this list as we get information.
 
/CFB Ball Alabama
University Update Sources
Bishop State Community College All remote learning on Monday and Tuesday. All events cancelled Monday and Tuesday. 7
Coastal Alabama Community College Closses at 2 PM on Monday. In person classes closed through Wendesday. Online classes continue to meet. 5
Spring Hill College Classes cancelled after 1:30 PM on Monday. Classes online on Tuesday. 5
University of Mobile Move to all online instruction as of 1:30 PM Monday. Normal classes resume Wendesday. 5
South Alabama University of South Alabama Classes, events, and activities canceled Tuesday and Wednesday. 16
 
/CFB Ball Florida
University Update Sources
Gulf Coast State College All campuses closed Tuesday. 11
Northwest Florida State College Closed through Tuesday. 13
Pensacola State College All campuses closed Monday and Tuesday. 7, 17
West Florida University of West Florida All classes - in person and online - cancelled through Thursday. 18
 
/CFB Ball Louisiana
University Update Sources
Delgado Community College Online classes only on Monday and Tuesday. 8, 19
Loyola Operating normally until 4 PM on Monday. Classes canceled Tuesday. Classes resume Wednesday. 2, 20
New Orleans Theological Seminary/Leavell College Closed Monday-Wednesday. 8
Nicholls Nicholls State All classes online Monday-Wednesday. 4
Northshore Technical Community College Online on Monday. Closed on Tuesday. Decision on Wednesday pending. 8, 21
Nunez College Online classes continue. In person classes cancelled Monday and Tuesday. 8
Southeastern Louisiana Southeastern University All classes online on Monday. All classes cancelled on Tuesday. 14
Southern Southern University Normal operations on Tuesday. 9, 22
Tulane Tulane In person and online classes canceled after noon on Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday classes TBD. 1
Holy Cross University of Holy Cross Closed Monday and Tuesday. 8
University of New Orleans Classes all online on Monday. In person, online, and hybrid classes canceled on Tuesday. 3
Xavier University Classes online after 5 PM Monday. Classes cancelled Tuesday. 8
 
/CFB Ball Mississippi
University Update Sources
Jones County JC Jones College All classes online through Wednesday. 12
Mississippi Gulf Coast CC Mississippi Gulf Coast Community College All classes online starting Monday at noon and Tuesday. 10
Southern Miss University of Southern Mississippi - Gulf Coast Locations All classes and events moved online starting at noon on Monday. 15
 
/CFB Ball South Carolina
If you know of any of these, please let us know.
University Update Sources
 
/CFB Ball North Carolina
If you know of any of these, please let us know.
University Update Sources
 
/CFB Ball Virginia
If you know of any of these, please let us know.
University Update Sources
Sources
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22
 
Touchdown Game Information Penalty Flag
We'll be updating this list as we get information.
This list includes all games played with teams in affected states. Many may not be affected, but given the ripple effects of things like travel and the particular complications of scheduling this season, we've listed them all here for reference.
Date Time Home Team Away Team Game Location
9/18 7:30 PM ET Coastal Carolina Campbell Conway, SC
9/19 12:00 PM ET Georgia State Louisiana Atlanta, GA
9/19 12:00 PM ET Tulane Navy New Orleans, LA
9/19 12:00 PM ET Duke Boston College Durham, NC
9/19 2:30 PM ET Notre Dame USF South Bend, IN
9/19 3:30 PM ET Georgia Tech UCF Atlanta, GA
9/19 3:30 PM ET Georgia Southern FAU Statesboro, GA
9/19 3:30 PM ET UNC Charlotte Chapel Hill, NC
9/19 4:00 PM ET Middle Tennessee Troy Murfreesboro, TN
9/19 4:00 PM ET Clemson The Citadel Clemson, SC
9/19 7:30 PM ET ULM Texas State Monroe, LA
9/19 7:30 PM ET Louisville Miami (FL) Louisville, KY
9/19 7:30 PM ET Southern Miss Louisiana Tech Hattiesburg, MS
9/19 8:00 PM ET NC State Wake Forest Raleigh, NC
 
Learn More
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2020.08.27 06:54 phillipadsmith What podcasts about making music (and music in general) do you listen to?

So I was that person who "didn't listen to podcasts" until about a year ago. Then, one day, I stumbled into the realization that podcasts are a bit like Reddit: there are a lot of small, esoteric, niche podcasts about music (production, history, business, criticism, etc.) if you have the energy to find them and try them out.
Fast forward to now, and I find myself listening to 1-2 hours of podcasts a day (yep, lots of laundry to fold!). Almost all of them covering some aspect of music. I'm sure I've only stumbled on the most obvious shows, so I'd like to ask for your suggestions.
Here are the one's I've enjoyed and what category I'd roughly put them in:
That's my list. What's on yours? Thanking you in advance for filling in the holes (and filling up my queue!).
submitted by phillipadsmith to WeAreTheMusicMakers [link] [comments]


2020.08.13 06:58 colorcodedcards "Someone help. I need help": Where is Monica Renee Bowie––a 34-year-old woman who was abducted in the parking lot of her upscale apartment complex in Atlanta, GA on the night of July 5, 2007?

Hi everyone! I'm back again with another lesser-known case––this time from Atlanta, GA. I want to give a quick s/o to u/Beardchester for the writeup they did on this case three years ago which gives a good initial outline of the case.
"A go-getter from the first day she learned to walk"
Monica Renee Bowie grew up in a middle-class neighborhood on Pittsburgh’s North Side with her mother, brother, and two sisters. She was close with her family and strove to set a positive example for her siblings by excelling in school–– “if you sat with Monica, she would wow you,” recalled her cousin, Lateshya Ellis. After graduating from Perry Traditional Academy, she enrolled in the accounting program at Cheyney University of Pennsylvania where she was chosen as the class valedictorian in 1996.
The ambitious Bowie was enchanted by the hustle and bustle of Atlanta and decided to relocate there in 2003. She got an apartment with her friend Danyell Sparks and the pair took full advantage of all the activities the city had to offer. Bowie first worked as a stripper for six weeks after her arrival in Atlanta but she had since redirected her attention to starting her own legitimate business.
Brenda Watkins, the manager of the Blue Flame, the club where Bowie worked, recalled her as a “nice girl, real nice.” She said that while Bowie primarily “kept to herself,” she was also “very ambitious”––Watkins was not sure if Bowie started stripping to invest in another business or not but she noted that she came in the club on occasion to “pass out new music from new artists.” Her first venture, Go2girls, was a hip-hop production company and she later opened LaCoca Wear Clothing, a boutique off Metropolitan Avenue.
Bowie had come a long way since her arrival in Atlanta––she successfully got two businesses off the ground and had found a good group of friends. “She didn’t allow negative things around her. That was her. She was a go-getter from the first day she learned to walk,” said Bowie’s mother Linda Howard. Sure enough, in 2006 Bowie moved out of the apartment she shared with Sparks and into her own place in the Berkshires at Lenox Place, an upscale building in an affluent area of Atlanta.
Her attorney described her as “a nice, happy, upstanding member of the Atlanta community” who had no issues aside from her “unfortunate brush with the law.”
This “unfortunate brush” was in fact Bowie’s first and only run-in with the law. On June 20, a police officer spotted her boyfriend Shernotta Walters standing in a Campbellton Road parking lot when he “smelled a strong odor of marijuana.” Walters was asked to identify his car in the parking lot which was subsequently searched by the officer who discovered marijuana, cash, and a firearm inside. Bowie had allowed her boyfriend to borrow her car and upon hearing that he would be arrested, she went to retrieve her vehicle. According to her attorney, she got to the scene and explained the situation to the officer who then arrested her alongside Walters. Bowie denied ownership of both the weapon and drugs found inside the car. Griggs said that the charges against his client were later dismissed in Fulton County Magistrate Court. Walters remained in the county jail, however, since possession of a gun was a violation of his parole.
Timeline
34-year-old Monica Bowie left her DeKalb apartment complex in the afternoon of July 5, 2007 to drive across town for an appointment with her attorney, Gerald Griggs. The two discussed her case and Bowie appeared to be in good spirits. Griggs said that “nothing was out of the ordinary”––Bowie was “smiling and laughing” and did not seem to have anything troubling her. She headed back home from his Decatur office around 4 p.m., ready to continue what seemed like just another day.
Later that evening, Bowie went out on the town and returned home later that night. A friend dropped her off in the parking lot at around 11pm. Around the same time, Brian Butler––a man who lived on the second floor of the complex––was working at his computer when his focus was interrupted by “loud shrills” which lasted about 30 seconds. “She was screaming ‘Someone help. I need help. Help me,” he told a reporter. Other witnesses told police that they saw a 2002 burgundy Mercury Sable speed away from the complex at about 11:10 p.m. but none reported seeing Bowie being put into the vehicle. The car had apparently been parked in the same spot earlier that day. Police were also given physical descriptions of two suspects by witnesses––a heavyset black male with a beard, possibly 20-30 years old and a small, dark-skinned black male in his late 20s-early 30s.
Multiple calls came in to 911 from the complex and police responded within minutes. Investigators quickly verified the witness reports and concluded an abduction had taken place––the parking lot showed clear evidence of a struggle. A woman’s green jacket, jewelry, a manila folder, a broken perfume bottle, a container of chicken wings, eyeglasses and two broken fingernails were found scattered in the parking lot. Papers found at the scene also bore Bowie’s name. The fingernails were sent to the crime lab for analysis but I could not find any information about the results of these tests if they were in fact conducted. The car was recovered in West Atlanta the day after the abduction and police noted that it was badly burned.
A bizarre twist in the case––one which I haven’t seen mentioned in other writeups––occurred nearly two weeks after Bowie disappeared. A spokeswoman for the Fulton County district attorney informed reporters that an investigating grand jury indicted both Bowie and Walters on July 10. She said that Bowie was indicted on one count of possession of marijuana with intent to distribute and one could of possession of a firearm and carrying a pistol without a license. When Bowie’s attorney was asked by a reporter if he wanted to respond to the charges against his absent client, Griggs was dumbfounded.
“That’s a surprise to me,” he said. “At this point our contention would be that the police have no evidence whatsoever linking my client to possession of any illegal substance. She was not the driver of that car, she was not in control of that car.”
Bowie’s mother Linda Howard then joined Griggs inside his Decatur office, staring down the small gaggle of reporters interested enough to show up. To Howard, the press conference was akin begging on her knees for media attention––the abduction of her daughter wrecked her emotionally and she couldn’t talk about Bowie without crying. Under normal circumstances she would have been able to talk about her daughter for hours but this time was different. This time Howard had to put her grief and trauma on public display––without it there was no hope of solving the case.
“Once the media stops, it’s hard to start it again,” Howard explained.
Bowie’s mother knew media exposure would be critical in solving her daughter’s case but she could not get anyone to cover it outside of Pittsburgh and Atlanta. Being the hometown of CNN headquarters, Howard assumed the broadcaster might be interested in the story only to be rebuffed. “I went to CNN personally and I couldn't get past the elevator,” Howard said. “I’ve been waiting for someone to call me back.” Without a way to secure a wider audience, the family focused on spreading awareness locally by holding prayer vigils and press conferences, posting fliers, and conducting door-to-door searches. Unfortunately, nothing came of their efforts––police largely remained at square one and had only concluded that Bowie probably knew her kidnappers and that her abduction was related to illegal drug activity.
Suspects
Shernotta 'Rico' Walters was ruled out as a suspect relatively quickly due to the fact that he was in jail at the time of Bowie’s disappearance. Law enforcement did consider him due to his prior criminal record and alleged involvement in drug dealing however no evidence was found that supported his involvement. From the beginning, Bowie’s family did not believe Walters was involved in her abduction but police understandably needed to investigate. Walters’ attorney, Dennis Scheib, told reporters that police questioned his client about the abduction. The pending charges against Walters was an obvious potential motive, but Scheib said that Bowie had “told [him] she would testify for him.” Police have named two suspects in connection with the murder.
27-year-old Lonnie Bennett was pulled over by police responding to the 911 calls while he was leaving the parking deck at the Lenox Apartments. The police incident report stated that Bennett was observed “coming out of or near” Bowie’s apartment after the alleged kidnapping, although it is unclear from news sources if the officer saw this and decided to pull him over or if that information was garnered from later witness interviews. In any case, the officer found a “large paper bag” in Bennett’s car which contained a “large amount” of cash, although police declined to specify exactly how much money there was. While Bowie’s attorney said that she did not know Bennett, he confirmed that he was “an acquaintance of Shernotta Walters.”
The second potential suspect identified by police was 24-year-old Jasper Devron Keels. Keels was arrested by DeKalb County police on Saturday and charged with theft for stealing the car used in the abduction as well as drug possession. Police said that Keels borrowed the car from an acquaintance on July 4 but instead of returning the vehicle to its owner, Keels abandoned it and set it on fire. The acquaintance, later identified as Tyrone Crawford, reported the vehicle as stolen the following day. Keels’ connection to the kidnapping was unclear from the beginning, as he was not thought to have known Bowie and police strongly suspected that Bowie knew her abductors.
“We are trying to see whether he has any connection to the kidnapping, but at this time we have not been able to make that link,” DeKalb County police spokeswoman Keisha Williams told reporters on July 17. “He’s not a suspect. Are we trying to connect him? Yes. But he’s not a suspect.”
In April 2018, Keels was arrested alongside another man following a traffic stop in Covington. A patrol officer spotted a gray Chrysler Pacifica travelling east U.S. Highway 278 and thought it looked similar to a BOLO (be on the lookout) put out by authorities in reference to multiple armed robberies and requested additional assistance. The two officers pulled the vehicle over and spoke with the driver and passenger who gave them fake names. The driver then abruptly hit the gas and floored it, prompting a high-speed chase. The occupants slowed down and then parked the car before both the driver and front seat passenger jumped out and ran across the median but the pair was quickly apprehended. Officers later identified the driver as Keels and charged him with giving a false name, felony fleeing and attempting to elude law enforcement, obstruction of officers, possession of cocaine, and driving with a suspended license.
As of 2020, no one has been charged with Monica Bowie's abduction and her family is still searching for answers in her case.
Questions:
  1. Who abducted Monica and why? If it was in relation to a drug dispute, how did she become involved? Was she collateral damage?
  2. To me, the fact that Monica’s own attorney wasn’t aware that a grand jury indicted his client on charges he thought were dismissed seems weird. I don’t necessarily know if it is related but how is it even possible for these proceedings to happen without the knowledge of the defendant’s attorney? Is it possible that the perpetrators knew of this indictment and silenced her for some reason?
  3. It has now been over seven years since Monica was abducted. Where is she? If she is dead, why hasn’t her body been found? I didn’t find any unidentified bodies matching her description in Atlanta, but there was one interesting potential match I found that I would love to get other people’s thoughts on––
The Elmore County Jane Doe (NamUs #UP5011) was found by a homeowner doing work on his property in Titus, AL on July 22, 2007. The man told police that he had rarely visited the property since 1991 and found the woman’s partial skeletonized remains while gardening. The body was wrapped in a green tarp tied with 72 feet of rope and buried in a shallow grave. Lime was also found at the scene which officers assumed was used to conceal the smell (it is a bit unclear if there was lime on the body as well).
[here is side-by-side comparison]
Due to the presence of the lime, authorities were unable to provide a specific estimated date of death but guessed that she died sometime between 1950 and 2007 (no postmortem interval could be established). Jane Doe’s ethnicity is listed as ‘uncertain’ on NamUS but the Doe Network also notes that she is probably black. Although the reconstruction shows her with short hair, the description notes that she actually had long, dark brown hair. Because only partial remains were discovered, the medical examiner was not able to provide an exact height but estimated she stood at around 5 feet tall.
There are a few striking similarities between Doe and Bowie, the close resemblance of Doe’s sketch to Bowie being the most notable one. The context in which Doe was found is also really interesting. If Bowie was killed by her abductors in Atlanta and then her body was transported to Titus in the car (perhaps in the trunk), it would make sense to wrap her in something to prevent her DNA from being found inside. Even if they planned on destroying the car from the beginning it would make sense to take extra precautions to prevent her DNA or hair from getting in the car in the first place. Additionally, the location Doe was found is only a 3-hour drive from Bowie’s apartment, meaning the person(s) transporting her body would have had plenty of time to drive there, dispose of her, drive back to Atlanta and burn the car (crossing state lines would also help throw off investigators further).
One thing that does not match up between Doe and Bowie is the height––Doe is estimated to be 5’0” while Bowie was 5’4”. I do know that the remains were incomplete which could throw off the height estimate but without knowing exactly which bones were recovered it is difficult to assess. The second point of contention is the stage of decomposition. Bowie was abducted on July 5 and the remains discovered on July 22 which seems like a pretty narrow window of time for a body to decompose so significantly. Finally, Bowie wore braces at the time of her abduction and it does not say anything about Doe wearing braces (it does say that dental records are available for comparison so perhaps there is additional information not listed in the profile).
Sources
Tiffany Cochran, “Friends Vow to Find Missing Woman,” 11 Alive News, July 20, 2007.
Juanita Cousins, “Abduction of woman suspected,” Atlanta Journal-Constitution, July 9, 2007, pg. B5.
Man charged in July abduction of woman,” Atlanta Journal-Constitution, September 14, 2007, pg. D5.
Jeff Mays, “Missing Atlanta Woman Monica Bowie Was Violently Kidnapped,” News One, November 7, 2013.
Andisheh Nouraee, “Monica Bowie kidnapping falls through cracks: Frustrations voiced for relative lack of media coverage,” Creative Loafing, July 25, 2007.
S. A. Reid, “Victim's lawyer shocked by abduction,” Atlanta Journal-Constitution, July 11, 2007, pg. D7.
––– “Woman’s screams go unheeded in DeKalb abduction,” Atlanta Journal-Constitution, July 10, 2007, pg. B3.
Marty Roney, “Body found in shallow grave,” Montgomery Advertiser, July 23, 2007, pg. 1A-4A. [part 1, part 2]
Jeffrey Scott, “Mom turns to media for help in case: Woman taken from DeKalb complex remains missing,” Atlanta Journal-Constitution, July 14, 2007, pg. B3.
Jonathan Silver, “Vigil focuses on missing woman,” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, July 17, 2007, pg. B1-B2. [part 1, part 2]
Larry Stanford, “Possible robbery suspects arrested after traffic stop,” Rockdale-Newton Citizen, April 2, 2018.
Deborah Todd, “Arrest made in Bowie kidnapping,” New Pittsburgh Courier, September 19, 2007, pg. A1-A4.
––– “Missing coverage for missing people,” New Pittsburgh Courier, August 1, 2007, pg. A1-A4.
––– “Pittsburgh native kidnapped in Atlanta,” New Pittsburgh Courier, July 18, 2007, pg. A1-A4.
Jodi Weigand, “Pittsburgh native who lives near Atlanta is missing,” Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, July 14, 2007.
Darryl Welch, “Robbery suspects arrested after high-speed chase on I-20,” Covington News, April 6, 2018.
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2020.07.28 20:20 jtothekbjj Fixing a ticket turned warrant

I was at the wrong end of a speeding ticket outside of Atlanta, Ga a few years ago. There was a lot of traffic and the officer who pulled me over claimed I was going 93 miles per hour (I wasn’t). The ticket he gave me didn’t have any monetary penalty attached, but rather a: “check online in two weeks for your amount to pay.” When it finally posted, it was something like $580. I was just out of the army and going to school part time while working full time in Massachusetts. I called to ask what could be done, and I was told I could show up to the courthouse on the following day. That was obviously out of the question, if I could fly to Georgia, I would just pay the ticket. I told them I can’t afford to pay or get to the courthouse, and even asked if there were payments accepted. They said if I didn’t show up to that court date that I would be jailed if I ever set foot there again. Unfortunately, my mother is in poor health and lives in Georgia. I’m trying to do what I can to figure this out and have the chance to visit her again without fear of unjust punishment. Any advice? I can give more info if necessary, I’ve never had to do this before.
Edit: I have been searching for places and organizations that would help me (specifically veterans legal aid) in my search for answers. Does anyone have any ideas as to which specific steps I can take at this point in time?
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2020.07.15 18:04 daprice82 Wrestling Observer Rewind ★ Jul. 1, 2002

Going through old issues of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter and posting highlights in my own words. For anyone interested, I highly recommend signing up for the actual site at f4wonline and checking out the full archives.
PREVIOUSLY:
1-7-2002 1-14-2002 1-21-2002 1-28-2002
2-4-2002 2-11-2002 2-18-2002 2-25-2002
3-4-2002 3-11-2002 3-18-2002 3-25-2002
4-1-2002 4-8-2002 4-15-2002 4-22-2002
4-29-2002 5-6-2002 5-13-2002 5-20-2002
5-27-2002 6-3-2002 6-10-2002 6-17-2002
6-24-2002
  • Bret Hart was seriously injured in a bicycle accident in Calgary last week. As of press time, Dave has very little info. Hart was thrown off the bike and flipped over the handlebars going at a high speed and landed on his back and hit the back of his head. Over the next couple of days, he's undergone a number of tests due to issues he's had since the accident. Bret was forced to retire 2 years ago after he suffered a serious concussion during the Starrcade 99 match with Goldberg and it's believed the fall may have aggravated the issues he's had since then. Hart is expected to be hospitalized for at least a week and has little movement on the left side of his body and can't see out of his right eye. He's also suffering severe back pain, though x-rays and scans haven't shown any physical damage to his back. That's all Dave knows right now. (Much more on this next week, obviously).
  • After a year of questionable decision-making, Vince McMahon made his most questionable decision yet when he announced the surprise re-hiring of Vince Russo. It's a shocking decision for lots of obvious reasons, not the least of which is most of the wrestlers either outright don't like him or at the very least, don't respect him. And many front office employees feel even more strongly about him. Not even Stephanie McMahon, who is the head of creative, knew Russo was coming back and she was just as blindsided by the news as everyone else. It's believed the deal has been in the works for a few weeks. Russo had owned a CD store in Marietta, GA but he sold the store recently. He also stopped submitting ideas to the Jarretts for TNA a couple of weeks ago. There's also the fact that Russo's lawsuit against Hulk Hogan over the Bash at the Beach 2000 incident is still pending and now they're in the same company again, although Dave suspects the legal issues must be wrapped up for Russo to take the job (Turner was still paying his legal fees so long as he didn't work for any other wrestling company, which is why everyone was denying his involvement with TNA). Another rumor going around is that Russo is planning to write a tell-all book about his time in WWF and when word about that got out, the company rehired him in an effort to squash the book. Dave thinks that might be believable if Russo was just hired and stuck in a closet somewhere. But he was brought back in a key position in the creative department, which means that likely wasn't the reason (or not a big part of it). Most likely, it's exactly what it appears on the surface: Vince McMahon is getting desperate and he's going back to what worked in the past.
  • When word got out about Russo's hiring, needless to say, everyone was shocked and, as you'd expect, it was an overwhelmingly negative reaction. The plan for Russo on day one was for him to be in control of the creative team, answering only to Stephanie McMahon. The next day, those plans changed after McMahon, Russo, Stephanie, and the rest of the writing team had a big meeting. There's been multiple stories about what happened during the meeting. One version of the story is that Russo's ideas were so bad that he pretty much buried himself with everyone immediately. Another version is that Stephanie pretty much buried all his ideas and shut him down. And yet another version is that Russo obviously hadn't kept up with the product and was unfamiliar and out of touch with many of the characters and ongoing storylines, and that soured Vince McMahon on him. Regardless, the result was the same: the very next day, Russo was no longer part of the creative team. Word is he has already been sent home and will be brought back if/when they need ideas, as sort of a consultant on retainer. Officially, his role now is to critique the TV shows and report back to Vince McMahon what he thinks. So he's basically paid to be a critic and tell McMahon how he would do it better. Anyway, that's the story for now. Dave runs down Russo's history in the business, how he came into power in WWF, jumping ship to WCW with no notice, where he proceeded to help kill the company and all the drama that happened there (can't wait for that one Vince Russo superfan that always accuses me of lying about him to chime in on this one).
  • For the record, one of Russo's big ideas for TNA's debut was taking the Shane Twins and dressing them up as giant penises and calling them the Big Johnsons. Thankfully, when the show aired, the announcers downplayed the "penis" aspect of it a lot, leading Russo to tell friends that the idea flopped because the commentators didn't sell it hard enough. Just in case you're wondering what Vince Russo is bringing to the table in 2002.
  • WWE's King of the Ring is in the books. For the first time since Wrestlemania, it was a legit sellout on PPV. And sucks for them because this was a pretty blah show. Undertaker retained the WWE title over Triple H in a bad match that was hampered because Undertaker is banged up in general and Triple H came into the match with an elbow injury. 2 days after the show, he underwent elbow surgery to remove bone chips, one of which was embedded in cartilage and had caused his arm to lock up. He was nowhere near 100% during the match, but if he had been, Dave suspects they probably would have put the belt back on him. But for now, they stuck with Undertaker. They did a post match angle to set up Rock vs. Undertaker vs. Triple H at Vengeance, assuming Triple H is ready by then (he was not).
  • The biggest story of the PPV, in Dave's opinion anyway, is the Kurt Angle/Hulk Hogan match, in which Angle beat Hogan clean as a sheet by submission. Dave gives Hogan credit: he didn't treat this like Kidman. Hogan put Angle over as strong as he possibly could. Dave believes it's the first time in Hogan's entire career that he lost via submission as a babyface. He did have a few submission losses as a heel (once to Inoki in NJPW in 1981 and a handful in WCW during the NWO era) but that's it. If he had any as a babyface, it would have been before 1979, before he was a national name. Whether this ultimately springboards Angle into a certified top guy that fans take seriously remains to be seen, but Hogan did everything he could. Probably didn't help that, as soon as the match was over, Angle put his goofy wig back on, at a moment that should have been used to turn him into a serious threat. But regardless, nobody can fault Hogan here if it doesn't get over.
  • Other notes from the PPV: Jericho vs. RVD in the opening match was easily the best match on the show. Lesnar got loud "Goldberg" chants and Dave thinks he sold way too much for Test, especially since the rumor is Lesnar is being groomed for a Summerslam main event with Rock. Nidia in her hillbilly gimmick with Jamie Noble was great and Dave thinks they might have something with Nidia and this gimmick. Ric Flair vs. Eddie Guerrero was.....not what you'd think. Dave has seen Flair drag talentless hacks to great matches for 20 years but somehow, Flair vs. Guerrero was a drag and should have been better than it was considering the two men involved. Two all-time greats just had a misfire somehow. Molly won the women's title from Trish and Dave thinks this whole storyline where they claim Molly is fat is insulting to probably every single female viewer they have and a lot of the males too. A backstage segment with Rock, Goldust, and Booker T was the most entertaining thing on the show. Lesnar won the King of the Ring tournament by beating RVD in a nothing match. And of course, the main event, which was an overbooked mess with two guys who probably didn't have any business wrestling that night anyway.
WATCH: Goldust/Booker T/Rock backstage segment at WWE King of the Ring 2002
  • NWA-TNA's debut show is in the books! Actually, so is their second show because it was a double-taping. And buckle in because we have a metric fuck-ton of TNA news to cover. Overall, it was a well-received debut. A lot of the young wrestlers were hungry and some of the old guys worked like they had something to prove. Guys like Konnan and Buff Bagwell looked the best they have in years and many of the people who worked the show said this felt like the real deal (many of those same people had worked the recent WWA shows and saw those as paid vacations, nobody took it seriously). Scott Hall, said to be the highest paid wrestler in the company ($3,500 per week) didn't do anything special but he got by far the biggest reaction and, according to all accounts, was sober and professional. There were about 3,000 fans in the building, but only 400-500 were paid. More than 10,000 freebies were given away around Birmingham the week of the show, but the crowd they got was actually a good, active audience, so it worked. Mike Tenay on commentary was great and full of knowledge, though Ed Ferrara playing heel announcer was useless. Don West was enthusiastic as hell, but knew nothing about the product. Regardless, he knows how to work a camera and he took charge of the commentary booth and Dave thinks he did fine in the role and will only get better. Ricky Steamboat was there, giving an emotional interview and putting over the NWA title. Ken Shamrock won the gauntlet battle royal (basically the same thing as a Royal Rumble match) to win the title, beating Malice (former WCW wrestler The Wall) in the final match after they were the last 2 left in the battle royal. There's been talk of doing a Shamrock vs. Don Frye match to try to catch some of that crossover UFC/PRIDE audience, but Dave is doubtful it'll be a draw here like it is in Japan.
  • What else? Country music star Toby Keith did a series of angles with Jeff Jarrett and Keith was by far the biggest star to the live fans. Keith got involved in the battle royal and eliminated Jarrett. NASCAR drivers Hermie Sadler and Sterling Martin got involved in a racial angle with K-Krush (R-Truth) using a bunch of "your kind" and "my kind" talk and Dave thinks that was pretty pathetic. The company was hoping all this celebrity involvement would get them some mainstream publicity but it got practically none. They brought in a bunch of women, most of whom were total unknowns except for ECW's Francine, Electra, and former WCW valet Daffney under the name Shannon, and their battle royal on the second show was said to be awful. The whole event definitely had a southern/regional feel to it. The opening match of Jerry Lynn, AJ Styles, and Low-Ki vs. Jorge Estra, Sonny Siaki, and Jimmy Yang was the show-stealer and was better than most of the matches in WWE this year.
  • Now the bad news: TNA was under the impression they had Dish Network cleared to air their show, but no dice. They don't have Cablevision in the U.S. either. For a company that needs to draw 50,000 buys a week to break even without a corporate sponsor, that's extremely bad news. They're also losing their Canadian PPV after the response to the debut show was said to be lackluster. At press time, InDemand has allegedly told TNA that their debut show did 80,000 buys but preliminary numbers are always drastically higher than the final result, so it'll almost certainly be less than that (for example, InDemand's number for WWA's first PPV was originally 40,000 but later got revised to 15,000). In WWE, they don't take any PPV numbers seriously at first because the thought is any numbers you hear within the first 2 months of the show are always wrong, the final tallies take time to come in. Regardless, even if this show did well, the more important question is how will they be doing in 4-5 weeks when the new has worn off?
  • Despite TNA claiming they aren't even interested in TV and are 100% committed to running exclusively on PPV, that's obviously not true. They have already struck syndication deals in Nashville and Chattanooga and are actively working to get a national television deal. The problem is that, as you can tell by looking at WWE ratings over the last year, the business is in a sharp decline, meaning the TV industry isn't chomping at the bit to give TV deals to some new startup nobody company. But anyone who understands the industry knows they have no chance of surviving on weekly PPV alone so getting on TV sooner than later is going to be essential to TNA's survival. The local syndicated deals they struck will mostly be hype shows with interviews and highlights designed to drive viewers to buy the weekly PPVs. Dave lists, like, 10 different promotions that have folded over the years in part due to the costs of paying for television.
  • Tons of TNA news in this issue which brings us to the debut "Random TNA News & Notes" section! Here we go: Bert Prentice will be working with the company and will no longer be running his own weekly shows in Nashville. There will be a one-night tournament at the next show to crown NWA tag team champions. Fun fact, those belts are currently held by The Shane Twins, who now wrestle in TNA as The Johnsons, doing the aforementioned masked penis gimmick. They'll be in the tournament even though they were already the champs in their previous gimmick. But the titles are being vacated and they will crown new ones.
  • We ain't done with TNA news. The dark match of the show featured a 450 pound dude named Cheex who is basically ripping off Rikishi's gimmick of doing things with his big ol' ass. And in case the ass gimmick and the "Cheex" name wasn't clear enough, he's being managed by a woman named Brown Eye Girl. So....yeah. If this ain't Vince Russo, I'll eat my shoe. Anyway, during the dark match, because Cheex is so big, the ring broke. As the show was going on the air live, the ring crew was frantically struggling to fix the ring, which is why it felt like they were stalling so much for the first 15 minutes. Because they were. The ring breaking also caused them to not be able to do the second dark match they had planned. Both matches were being taped to air on next week's show.
  • Actual notes from TNA's debut show (I'm gonna divide this into multiple paragraphs because there's a lot): it opened with some pyro, which is meant to make them look major league, but everyone else always looks minor league compared to WWE's huge pyro show every week and this was no exception. No graphics or details on any of the wrestlers, which is a mistake considering so many of them are complete unknowns to most fans. Started with a bunch of legends coming out to put over the NWA title, including Ricky Steamboat cutting one of the best promos of the year in any promotion and Dave thinks they need to hire Steamboat and put him in an on-air role as a commissioner or something ASAP. Jeff Jarrett cut a promo saying it was stupid to crown a new champion in a battle royal. Way to bury your own main event 10 minutes into your debut show, especially since most people also agree that it's a pretty dumb way to do it. But they still did. Then Ken Shamrock and Scott Hall came out and they both cut promos and they also shat on the battle royal idea, leading Dave to worry already that this company hasn't learned anything from WCW's mistakes. As mentioned earlier, the opening match easily stole the show. Next up was a little person match, with the jobber actually being referred to as "an enhancement midget." The Shane Twins did the penis gimmick, but as mentioned, it was severely played down from the original idea as conceived by Russo.
  • More notes from the show: They brought out a bunch of women for a big segment and Dave, who spends his entire life watching wrestling, didn't know half of them. And even if he did, it wouldn't matter because there were no graphics to name any of them and even if there had been, the cameras were often showing the wrong woman when a name was announced. Anyway, among them were Francince from ECW (who Dave is worried about because she looked sickly thin), Shannon (formerly Daffney in WCW), Alexis Laree (better known years later as Mickie James), Elektra from ECW, Taylor Vaugn (formerly Barbara Bush in WWF), Erin (who was a finalist on Tough Enough season 1 but got booted from the show before production started because other contestants saw her out on a date with one of the judges and they complained and got her kicked off), and some others. At least one of the no-name chicks was a stripper they hired specifically for this show because they needed one more woman to make 10. Anyway, this all led to the expected brawl with Elektra getting her shirt ripped off to show her bra. It wasn't even that risque. If you're trying to use sex appeal to draw viewers, the worst thing you can do is be less risque than WWE is on free TV when you have the luxury of PPV (give em a few months and we'll get actual nudity on this show). Alicia Webb, formerly known in WWF as Ryan Shamrock (and who is dating Ken Shamrock in real life) was playing a prostitute collecting money from referee Mark Johnson.
  • Even more notes from the show: the NASCAR guys got a bigger pop than any of the wrestlers. K-Krush came out to confront them about not being real athletes and they did the racial angle. Brian Christopher got involved and funny story there, they were debating whether to use the last name Christopher, or his real last name of Lawler. Nobody told the announcers which it was gonna be so Mike Tenay kept using "Christopher" while Ed Ferrara kept using "Lawler." More WCW-level shit. Toby Keith performed. The gauntlet battle royal to crown the new champion featured Buff Bagwell, Prince Justice (later becomes Abyss), Konnan, Rick Steiner, Scott Hall, Jeff Jarrett, etc. Toby Keith ran in and suplexed Jarrett, causing him to get eliminated because why not? Chris Harris, Vampire Warrior, Steve Corino, and more. And when it got down to the last two, it became a regular match and Shamrock beat Malice to win the title with Steamboat as the special referee.
WATCH: NWA-TNA' s debut PPV (Full Show)
  • So that's the notes from the debut show. Are we done with TNA yet? Not by a long shot. They taped a whole second show, remember?! It hasn't aired yet so Dave hasn't seen it so here's the scarce details. The crowd started filing out after the first show ended and kept leaving as the second one was going, to the point that Jeremy Borash and Bert Prentice had to get on the mic and beg everyone to stay and then moved a bunch of people to the hard camera side so there wouldn't be visible empty seats all over the place. Lenny Lane and former WCW star Kwee-Wee were put together as a gay tag team called Rainbow Express, managed by Joel Gertner, and kissed each other instead of tagging each other to swap in and out during the match, which got a lot of heat because Alabama. A 9-woman battle royal (guess they didn't let the hired stripper actually work) to crown Miss TNA resulted in a bunch of women getting stripped half naked. They did a 4-way elimination match to crown the X-Division champion which was won by AJ Syles in what was said to be easily the best match of either show, with even Harley Race going on record later to say it was one of the best matches he'd ever seen. But by then, there were very few fans left in the building. And that is finally it for TNA news for now. Whew.
  • PRIDE's latest show is in the books and once again featured pro wrestlers drawing the crowd. NOAH's Yoshihiro Takayama replaced Mark Coleman in the main event (out due to injury) against Don Frye, leading to last minute interest from wrestling fans that packed the house. Frye defeated Takayama in what many are calling the best fight in the history of PRIDE. Takayama has had 3 fights in PRIDE and has lost all 3 of them, but all 3 of them were also show-stealing outright wars that, despite losing, has grown Takayama into an even bigger star. Afterward, Frye hinted at retiring from MMA and returning to NJPW full time. Dave hasn't seen this fight but it was described to him as "something out of Dragonball Z or a comic book" the way they were just throwing bombs at each other, with the crowd going insane (yeah the opening minute or so if this fight is absolute madness, video below). The show also featured Bob Sapp vs. Kiyoshi Tamura, which was a total mismatch. Tamura is a skilled MMA fighter, but Sapp outweighed him by literally almost 200 pounds and the fight was over in 11 seconds, with Sapp basically murdering him. Dave says it's clear they're trying to turn Sapp into a huge unbeatable monster psychopath and it's working. But Dave thinks it's bullshit to put fighters this mismatched against each other in real shoots. It was funny though because after what happened in Sapp's K-1 fight a few weeks ago, they made some new rules like no knees and no kicking a downed opponent, which is fine. But they also announced other rules for the fight, such as no flying sentons or splashes off the top ropes, which have never been done in an MMA fight and is utterly ridiculous (If Cormier doesn't hit Miocic with a Canadian destroyer at UFC 252 next month, what's even the point?). Another NOAH star, Takashi Suguira, lost a split decision with Daniel Gracie and Suguira had several NOAH wrestlers at ringside cheering him on. And of course, Antonio Inoki came out at intermission and did his catchphrase.
WATCH: Yoshihiro Takayama vs. Don Frye - PRIDE
  • UFC made its TV debut with a half-hour segment on Fox Sports Net's "Best Damn Sports Show Period" which featured a full Robbie Lawler vs. Steve Berger bout, as well as highlights of other fights. "Fear Factor" host Joe Rogan did commentary with Mike Goldberg and Jeff Osbourne. They aired several warnings during the show, but the violence ended up being far less brutal than most average boxing matches. The show drew a strong crowd and there's talk that this may become a regular thing on the network. They also hyped the planned Tito Ortiz vs. Ken Shamrock fight for later this year and Dave thinks TNA would be wise to get the NWA title off Shamrock before the fight, because he's going into it as the underdog. Plus, Shamrock would likely not want to risk injury or spend time flying to Nashville every week during the last few weeks of training. Wouldn't be a good look for TNA if Shamrock goes to the octagon with the NWA title belt and gets demolished by Ortiz. Also on the show, Chuck Liddell defeated Vitor Belfort in a war that catapulted Liddell into title contention and he'll likely face the winner of Shamrock/Ortiz sometime down the road.
  • Dave got his hands on a copy of Shaun Assael's new book "Sex, Lies, and Headlocks: The Real Story of Vince McMahon and the World Wrestling Federation" even though it hasn't been released yet. Review time! The original concept for the book was to chronicle the Monday Night Wars, but just as the book was being finished, the whole business changed and since Vince became the lone survivor, the book was changed to focus on him and the WWF primarily. The book is fair and accurate for the most part. Assael didn't run from any of the controversial stories, but he also didn't sensationalize things to make them seem bigger than they were. If you're a long-time Observer reader, you already know all this stuff and could probably point out details or inconsistencies in the story, but to the average fan who hasn't been following all the behind-the-scenes stuff for the last 20 years, it's sure to be an eye-opener. Anyway, Dave recaps the book in detail, mostly just correcting things that the author got wrong but also acknowledging that this is an early review copy and some of these mistakes will be corrected before it's published and released. Otherwise, he just pokes holes in various myths and stories that are covered. The Observer was credited in the book for being one of the author's sources, specifically in regards to Dave's coverage of the steroid trial (yeah, if you haven't read it, go back and check those out. Dave actually attended the trial and his recap of it is one of the most must-read issues of the Observer in its entire history). The book pretty much ends at the death of WCW, though it does note that business has declined significantly since then. Overall, Dave says it's by far the best book on the real modern history of professional wrestling that he's ever read and is a must-read for any wrestling fan. But it's also too short (288 pages) to really get into all the detail needed to tell so many of these stories. But for what it is, best book of its type that Dave's ever read.
AMAZON LINK: "Sex, Lies, and Headlocks: The Real Story of Vince McMahon and the World Wrestling Federation" by Shaun Assael
  • In AAA in Mexico, there's a new guy named Canibal who's gimmick is pulling his opponent's trunks down and biting them on the ass. It's too late. You already read the sentence. You can't un-know that now.
  • AJPW stars Kaz Hayashi and Kendo Kashin were supposed to be working some shows for AAA at the moment. Fun story, when they arrived in Mexico, nobody from AAA was there to meet them at the airport and nobody they called from the AAA office would answer the phone, so they basically found themselves stranded in Mexico with no idea what to do and unable to speak the language. Dave says the exact same thing happened to Great Sasuke several years ago when he went to Mexico. Anyway, last Dave heard, Hayashi and Kashin were trying to get themselves booked on some indie shows in Mexico so they can get some pictures of them working there to take back to the magazines in Japan (which was the whole reason for their trip) so they're just looking to work one or two shows and then go back home. They can't work for CMLL because that promotion has a business relationship with NJPW.
  • Last month, AAA held its 10th annual Triplemania show in Los Angeles. Here's the problem though: it was an utter flop, with embarrassing attendance and almost nobody even realizing it happened. So AAA has decided to just pretend it didn't happen and has now scheduled Triplemania X again, this time in Mexico (maybe WWE should do that next year. Since Wrestlemania was pretty much just in an empty warehouse this year, they shouldn't even acknowledge it. Just redo Wrestlemania 36 again next year and pretend it's the first time).
  • Remember the story a couple months ago about how Invader 1 (the guy who murdered Bruiser Brody) left the WWC promotion? Well, he was scheduled to return this week as a special referee for a Carlos Colon match but it ended up not happening. He said he wanted his return to be a surprise, but the story was already out on the internet that he was coming back. For what it's worth, almost none of the wrestling fans in Puerto Rico have internet (I did the research, only 17.5% of the country had internet access in 2002 and you gotta figure only a fraction of those are wrestling fans, so Dave is likely correct here) so it still would have been a surprise to probably 99% of them. But either way, Invader 1 pulled out of the show over it and still isn't back with the promotion.
  • Spanky (Brian Kendrick) won a tournament at an indie show in California to get a shot for the Zero-1/UPW unified title. That's not the important part. How it happened is the original guy who was scheduled to win ended up pulling out of the show at the last minute because his pregnant wife was overdue so he stayed behind to be with her. So they made a call to Spanky, who was in Cincinnati. He immediately packed up his car and was on the road 30 minutes after receiving the call. And didn't stop. He drove 30 hours straight, some 2,200 miles, and made it to the venue literally an hour or so before showtime and did the match. That's freakin' dedication (I think he's talked about this in a shoot interview before. Said he masturbated to stay awake and started vomiting uncontrollably halfway through the drive or something, but still made it. Madness.)
  • AJPW news: there are no truth to the rumors of a WWE/AJPW relationship, which was mentioned last week. Motoko Baba and Tenryu were at WWE's show in Hawaii to take photos for the Japanese magazines to make people think something is up, but there's nothing there. They were just visiting because Johnny Ace got them backstage. Also, the newspapers in Japan have begun reporting that Keiji Muto will take over as AJPW president when Ms. Baba retires, which confirms what Dave has been saying for months.
  • Kenta Kobashi's first match back for NOAH will be this week at Korakuen Hall. He'll be working undercard tag matches so he won't be doing too much. If you recall, he was out for over a year with knee injuries, had one match in February in which he re-injured himself again and has been out ever since.
  • Speaking of Korakuen Hall, NJPW's latest show there only drew 1,200 fans, which means the building was only half full. Just in case you're wondering how NJPW is doing in 2002. Not great.
  • Don Frye did an interview claiming Antonio Inoki is working to put together a match between himself and Mike Tyson. "Nobody is taking that seriously," Dave says.
  • Speaking of Japanese companies trying to latch on to the WWE train and speaking of lyin' ass Inoki: there have been rumors that Inoki is putting together a relationship with WWE. Not true. Inoki claimed recently that he had met with Vince McMahon about using some of WWE's undercard guys in NJPW and of starting his own promotion in the U.S. Dave says the meeting with Vince never happened and, in fact, the two men haven't gotten along or really even spoken at all in nearly 20 years.
  • More on Jesse Ventura's decision not to run for re-election as Minnesota governor. Part of the reason may be that the polls are showing he would likely lose the race. Of course, that's what the polls said last time and he shocked the world. But after 4 years in office, his popularity isn't near what it was back then, when he was the exciting outsider. Now the voters have seen what he brings to the table and they don't seem to like it too much. Ventura was already planning to make the announcement, but then the story about his son hosting parties at the governor's mansion broke, and Ventura made the announcement 2 days earlier than he'd planned. Using the criticism that his son has gotten in the media as his excuse for not running provided Ventura a good "out" but he was already planning not to run long before that story happened and the press conference had been scheduled nearly 2 weeks earlier, so take it with a grain of salt. Most likely, he saw the writing on the wall and knew he was going to lose if he ran again.
  • Notes from the latest Ring of Honor event: it was said to be an incredible show, with guys like Bryan Danielson, Low-Ki, Christopher Daniels, Spanky, Jerry Lynn, AJ Styles, and more all having amazing matches. There was a moment during the show where Scoot Andrews went to hit Christopher Daniels' valet, Lucious. But then he stopped himself and said he'd never hit a woman, but he knew somebody who would. This was a tease to bring out another female wrestler, but the crowd started chanting for Steve Austin. The show drew 450 fans and sold out the building, which is the largest crowd ROH has drawn so far.
  • Famous St. Louis Cardinal announcer Jack Buck passed away a couple weeks ago and Dave notes that Buck actually had some involvement in wrestling back in the day. He used to do radio broadcasting of Sam Muchnick's shows live for KMOX radio in the 1960s and there's even a picture somewhere out there of Giant Baba picking Buck up and holding him like a baby. (I actually just watched the 30 For 30 documentary on the McGwire/Sosa home run race and they talked about Jack Buck in there. Good times. Anyway, someone find that picture because I'm having no luck).
  • Sting is scheduled to make an appearance, but not wrestle, at an indie show Harley Race is putting together this week in St. Louis. This will be Sting's first wrestling-related appearance since WCW folded.
  • In case you're wondering what XPW and Rob Black are up to these days, allow Dave to fill you in. Black is currently doing an angle where he's pretending he had a stroke and he pisses and shits on himself all over TV. They also did a segment where wrestler GQ Money (now a producer for NXT) broke into Black's home and tried to rape his wife until somebody made the save. The next week, they showed Money supposedly raping a girl in the parking lot and leaving her for dead, and the week after, he got sprayed with raw sewage. Now they're building up to a raw sewage match, based on this rape storyline. XPW, folks.
  • Dave has some more notes on Cody Runnels, the son of Dusty Rhodes who was backstage at WWE's show in Atlanta last week. Cody is a sophomore in high school and placed 6th in the state in amateur wrestling the past year. He also plays football. He was described to Dave as having a similar physical look as Randy Orton, "but with a face like Dusty."
  • WWA's scheduled tour of Europe has been officially canceled. The German and Switzerland shows had abysmal ticket sales and pretty much had to be canceled. The show in Ireland had more than 4,000 tickets sold and would have been a success, but even so, that one show alone wasn't going to make enough money to offset the cost of the whole tour.
  • This is actually hilarious. UFC fighter Vitor Belfort and his training partner were in a taxi before the UFC show when a bunch of cops showed up and surrounded the car. Why, you ask? Well the cab driver overheard Belfort and his partner talking about "shooting at the legs" and she got scared, not knowing what they were talking about, and called the police. Seems like they got it all straightened out though.
  • Rock will be working nearly full-time on TV from now until Summerslam, at which point he's leaving for a few months to go film his next movie. He won't be on every Smackdown, but he'll be on most of them.
  • Nothing new on the Goldberg/WWE negotiations. Vince McMahon told Goldberg's agents that he will clear his schedule any time Goldberg wants to have a meeting, but Goldberg doesn't seem particularly interested. The fact that WWE rehired Russo probably won't help matters because Goldberg is one of the many who doesn't like Russo.
  • Shawn Michaels is booked to be in Kevin Nash's corner on upcoming house shows once Nash is cleared to wrestle again. There's still no plans for Shawn to wrestle, but given how depleted the WWE roster is right now, Dave is sure they'll probably start pushing him to sooner than later (Nash ends up getting injured again almost immediately, so I don't think Shawn ever did these house show appearances).

Looks like this is one of those issues where I went over the 40,000 character limit. Hit the comments below for the rest.

submitted by daprice82 to SquaredCircle [link] [comments]


2020.06.29 06:19 moodkill $4000 PC budget for heavy 3D modeling, rendering, design work, photo video sound editing

What will you be doing with this PC? Be as specific as possible, and include specific games or programs you will be using.
Heavy 3D modeling in C4D, rendering with Arnold, Coreldraw, Adobe products, video and sound editing and my many - many chrome tabs lol
What is your maximum budget before rebates/shipping/taxes?
$4000
When do you plan on building/buying the PC? Note: beyond a week or two from today means any build you receive will be out of date when you want to buy.
As soon as possible, but should I be waiting for something I do not know about?
What, exactly, do you need included in the budget? (ToweOS/monitokeyboard/mouse/etc)
Everything but the accessories. Bluetooth, wifi is needed as well.
Which country (and state/province) will you be purchasing the parts in? If you're in US, do you have access to a Microcenter location?
USA, Atlanta, GA. Yes Microcenter is nearby.
If reusing any parts (including monitor(s)/keyboard/mouse/etc), what parts will you be reusing? Brands and models are appreciated.
Logitech mouse, custom mech keyboard. Would like a recommendation for a decent color accurate monitor, aside from the $4000.00 budget.
Will you be overclocking? If yes, are you interested in overclocking right away, or down the line? CPU and/or GPU?
Yes, if this helps with speeding up processes within my work however will it wear heavy on my parts?
Are there any specific features or items you want/need in the build? (ex: SSD, large amount of storage or a RAID setup, CUDA or OpenCL support, etc)
SSD
Do you have any specific case preferences (Size like ITX/microATX/mid-towefull-tower, styles, colors, window or not, LED lighting, etc), or a particular color theme preference for the components?
I'd like a contemporary looking case, if possible and one that would benefit the internal components.
Do you need a copy of Windows included in the budget? If you do need one included, do you have a preference?
I've a new copy of WIndows 10
Extra info or particulars:
submitted by moodkill to buildapcforme [link] [comments]


2020.06.27 02:06 baby_meatus Would anyone want to read the rest of this story? Should I turn this in to a book?

How would I expand this? I want to write a book.

Junior year of University, I was approached by M(atty)M(oe) he was goading me to apply to a community service organization, the Bonner program, which rewards students accepted with a $5,000 check. Reluctantly, I applied and shockingly I was accepted into the program, which also included the aforementioned scholarship. Upon receipt of the scholarship check I stood at my mailbox for about 10 minutes $5000 seemed like a small fortune to me, a check of $5000 was almost license to drink myself into oblivion, or throw my fraternity a party completely funded by yours truly.
Nervously, I walked over to the registrars office of Stetson University and said; "Ummm I believe you’ve made a mistake, this check does not belong to me…" They tell me in return, "No that’s your award for being accepted into Bonner."
My head was spinning from the absolute good fortune of doggedly pursuing the philanthropic streak in me, and heeding MMs advice. I was trying to decide what to do with the money; "I could throw my fraternity a party…I could invest it, but any investment right now is suicide…I could buy a motorcycle…" I decided to go with motorcycle, not immediate suicide, I would at least get an dopamine rush on a daily basis. I might even attract a few girls!
Side note: the 'investment option" would have been the best option, I was presenting the equity: SNA, to the board of trustees for purchase into the school endowment portfolio, at time of check receipt, SNA (Snap-On), the equity I was presenting, was trading around $30-35/share (it touched $29/share on the day I made my presentation). At time of writing SNA was trading at $183.59/share. Upon receipt of the scholarship money that was gifted to me, for my good deeds towards humanity, I could have bought 5000/35 = 142 shares of SNA, 142*183=~$30,000. Though no (not) sane 20 year old kid would want to lock their money up for eternity and buy stocks and bonds, that is for old people… like 25 year olds.
I went down to Deland Motorsports with my best friend to browse a few insane 'crotch rockets,' Id learnt that an I-4, or inline 4 cylinder, motorcycle would be vastly overpowered for a 'squid*. Accepting this, I decided on a , very powerful Suzuki SV650s, a sane choice for a "noob."
*squirrely kid
With the final signature of some loan document (stupidly I wasnt not paying very close attention to the verbiage, or amounts - pretty incredible for a finance major) a sudden Dopamine wave went through my body. Holy shit, I thought, do I own another motor vehicle? Im going to get so many girls(!) but I am dating JL… Perhaps her friends will badger her incessantly, and she'll cave and bring another girl into the mix.
None of that happened. Though I did hook up with one if the 'hottest' girls at Stetson, MC, and she specifically said: "you look so 'hawt' riding your motorcycle back from intramural Soccer games, shirtless." Which I interpreted as a flirtatious vote lauding the purchase of that death machine, exactly the type of thing I had in mind when making the purchase. Then there was CZ, Im fairly certain she didn’t have a sexual motivation activated by the motorcycle, this was just a girl who was 'thirsty.' The summer between Junior and Senior year I was selected (incredibly) for an internship with Morgan Stanley, I remember getting the call, in April 2007:
"Hello, could we speak with Nicolas Uppal?"
ohhhh shit what did I do now? "Speaking" I said
"Congratulations Nicolas! You’ve been selected to be a Junior Financial analyst with the GWMG group at Morgan Stanley! You have two options: Beverly Hills or Downtown LA"
All my friends and family can tell you how I was constantly professing to 'adore city life,' and how 'I felt empty if I did not see anything in the sky.' However, the option laid out in front of me required some deliberation, time I did not have. "Uh uh uh Beverly Hills" I blurted out.
"Excellent choice we will send you a confirmation email with the next steps included. Welcome aboard."
Holy sh!t, I thought, im a rising Senior and I already have employment plans.
I immediately called my mother, and let her know the great news.
"I hope you & BPJ approve of this." Quickly explain the Morgan Stanley tale.
"Bien sur que il va etre excite, et mois aussi!"
"Awesome, I have class, talk to you soon, love you."
And with that I thought my future was coming together. I putted around campus for the remainder of my Junior and Senior years, occasionally riding out to Daytona beach, thinking: "this is so cool thank god for this helmet though, I didn’t have the cash to buy one there! Im glad the dealer included one with the sale." That call came at the perfect time to fully let loose over spring break.
For Spring Break; I went to Key West with GA, EM, CF, and DS - we had a blast. I don’t think there was a 5-minute space when all 5 of us were not drunk or high. Then, GA and I had the brilliant idea of renting 49cc scooters and terrorizing Duvall St. We were wrong, Duvall St. terrorized us, EM got into a fight with a bouncer at some popular bar on the strip on Duvall St. EM destroyed him, he just sat on the entrance steps as all 5 of us stumbled in, then 10 minutes and 5 drinks later, we stumbled out, mounted our scooters and safely made it back to our motel, this episode only reinforced my feeling of being invincible.
The next day GA and I were racing on the mopeds around Key West, seeing some traffic up ahead I decided to ramp on to the sidewalk and ride on the sidewalk and 'bunnyhop' down off the sidewalk, thus ensuring my victory. GA pulled up next to me laughing his ass off, from that point forward it didn’t matter if we were drunk, high, or both - we were jumping off sidewalks. Amazingly, none of us went down, except for CF who gave the scooter too much throttle on the sand, lost the rear end and the scooter fishtailed out from underneath him in some sand. Schadenfreude, I thought. Good thing im (slightly) more skilled at riding scooters.
We then had our final night out, just got really drunk didn’t do anything to prepare for the ride back up to Dea(d)land, and await the final 2 months of school.
In the final 2 months of Senior year I attended Ultra Music Festival, I was so in to progressive house and was known around campus for my love affair with House music. In fact DS and I hosted a radio show called "Techno story time," where we would 'drop' the sickest track we had heard during the previous week, and between tracks I would tell an 'R'/'X' rated story of the debauchery. Looking back on this, I must've seemed like such a douchebag, literally kissing and telling whoever had the misfortune of tuning in. Ultra (UMF) was in Miami a 7 hour drive, too pusillanimous to take 'Brutus,' (I wanted to keep him in excellent condition, keep the mileage low) I decided to take the motorcycle.
I recall that going to Miami on a motorcycle was so draining, but as always I was able to overcome that challenge and arrive in Miami with time to spare. I crashed on JLs brothers couch at UM, what an awesome guy for putting up with a smelly, dirty guy who was banging his sister. Damn, in retrospect, I cant really forgive myself for breaking up with JL a year later
At Ultra Music Fest had an awesome time, I didn’t do any drugs, get drunk, or makeout/flirt/hookup with anyone else or smoke Cannabis (although you could smell the cannabis smoke 2-3 miles away). On the drive back, I decided to go as fast as I could (actually I just really really missed JL and wanted to get to Stetson sooner) I remember having the bike at 135 MPH (engine speed limit, were it not for that or I wouldve gone much faster - so that speed limiter was a good thing) for ~30 minutes on the long and boring interior highway FL91. 91 to I-4 to US 17 to JLs arms!
The final 2 months until graduation were essentially a self-imposed retirement; I had no projects due, no finals and before leaving to Ultra Fest '09 I had just given my bond presentation. I was a free man - with no employment lined up. The drawbacks of going to a small, unknown and not-well-connected-outside-of-Florida school were beginning to become apparent
During graduation, I don’t know why I was so somber, I stuck around after graduating for a few nights to party with the boys and be with JL before I departed towards the unknown of adulthood. Upon returning to Atlanta I just assumed that I would be able to 'crash' in my old room, without having a job. Luckily, about 4 months in to my joblessness my great friend from school KD was able to hook up an interview for me with his company, AT&T. I interviewed well, but I really think KD had it already arranged to have me hired, they just wanted to vet me. I interviewed and was subsequently hired to do some business analytics/data cleaning. While working at AT&T I did great work making fun of my superior AM, however, I was not entirely clear on my task. I know I was supposed to measure the times from product purchase to online implementation. Beyond that, However the work was a sinecure until I was hired by MS. We moved buildings, 1 block to a massive, wide open cubicle farm, there may have been ~1000 cubicles in that room - and my cubicle was positioned so that the screen of my computer was visible to everyone who walked in.
Despite being assigned to a less than desirable spot. I worked, not hard but I made sure I completed all my tasks. About 2 months into my 'shafting' I decided to fly to FLL, Ft. Lauderdale, to visit JL, I missed her so badly. I didn’t just miss the sex, I missed the affection, I missed the unconditional love. I had no idea what it was that drew me so close to JL, but I kept going to her. While I was visiting JL she suggested that we go to a dog racing track, having only been to one before, I went to a dog racing track in Daytona Beach with AGs dad and my BFF NB, I agreed the event was not too memorable. However, on the drive back from the track I received a call from the connection I made during my internship with MS, the Managing Director of HR, CNG.
CNG informed me of a position in Coral Gables, Miami FL working with one of her friends JFG. Since I was already in Naples, 90 miles from Miami, I replied with: "I can be there to interview in two days…" With that I experienced another endorphin rush, I ffelt like my future was being laid out in front of me, I just had to secure this job, work my ass off, endure a few years of menial pay until I am promoted to 'Associate' and pay for JL to move in with me. This was especially alluring to me because it seemed like my best friends were getting amazing jobs; RL (my best friend) was working at a PE shop in ATL, and my good friend MS was consulting with McKinsey in Dubai, then again they went to awesome schools Emory and Wharton, respectively.
After my interview with JFG I drove back to Naples for a night before flying back to Atlanta,. It finally felt like I was entering adulthood. I got the position in Miami, I then attempted to put in my two weeks at AT&T when I tried to put in my two weeks my supervisor, AM, said: "No need, you don’t need to come back tomorrow." So with that I was a free man for 2 months, it felt eerily similar to finishing Stetson. I set about organising my departure and move to Miami.
I quickly realised that I was too poor to remotely make a down payment on a condo sight-unseen, so I meekly implored JL to ask her brother, RL, to allow me to crash on his couch for '1 week at most.' I felt like such a bum, living in the UM dorms, working for MS but not having a place to call my own. I had to make a change, so I went around my office asking if anyone needed or knew of anyone who needed a roommate. Luckily, a friend of my then boss, JFG, also had an analyst on his team, RM. We met and quickly agreed to cohabitate an apartment.
Living with RM was fairly easy, he was a very agreeable roommate, I think I pulled the best hand out of the deal,I made sure I got the master suite of the apartment while paying 10% less than RM, I feel like an asshole thinking back on it - but capitalism makes you do things against your human nature. We got into an ok apartment if it were not for the recession of 08-09 we would have never been able to afford it.
About 2 months after I finalized living with RM, Ultra '11 was gearing up, knowing that I was not earning enough to afford a $230 ticket, I begged JL to buy the ticket for our 2 year anniversary. She did! I thought; oh man I love this girl so much, I cant wait to spend the rest o my life with her. My friends GA and DS also were at UMF '11, we had a blast. None of us got too high, drunk or messed up, and strangely I never got GA or EM back to my apartment even though it was 2 blocks from Bayfront park.
I recouped for 12 hours, slept off the alcohol and cannabis, and showed up for work that Monday, probably looking like shit. A few months later, I decided to look up my Boss during my internship, GD. When we connected he was so glad to hear from me, he was unsure if I had been hired. Two calls later he gave me two things: a task to test a Mercedes E55 AMG(we were both gearheads), a job offer in Beverly Hills. Having just the task to test drive the car wouldve been enough, but a job offer in LA? My mind began racing, I had a flexible start date so I was able to gradually close things out and speak with my portfolio manager. Although a favor was called in to get me hired, JFG had no qualms about letting me go.
A month later I went out for my birthday with KG, we werent dating but she had an enormous crush on me, infact she came to Stetson to visut me, much to the chagrin of Jenny. We went to a few small bars, and ended up at club LIV, it was there I met the most beautiful girl I ever laid eyes on, Viviane G. from Rio, much to my amazement she was in to me as well (probably because at the time I had a head of black hair, this made me look like a Brazilian model). Vivi (as I called her) and I hit it off we spent the rest of my time in Miami together, we never kissed, this is why I felt ok staying with Jenny.
Then, a car and yacht show, 1 block from my apartment spurred the motivation to call and break up with Jenny, strangely. I thought Vivi was the woman of my dreams, I didn’t take in to consideration everything Jenny, and her family, had done for me
I took 2 months to finish up in Miami, going out every night to get the last feel of Miami nightlife before I ventured out to the great unknown west. Once again, like in Miami, I arrived in LA and had to 'crash' on my moms good friend LDs guest bedroom, until I got my situation squared away. I was able to quickly secure an apartment 2 blocks from Hollywood Ave., with a view of the Hollywood sign. "Oh man," I thought "I must be the flossiest Stetson graduate right now." I soon came to learn that DS was in LA too, we linked up and I found my smoking/drinking partner while I was in LA.
Work in the Beverly Hills branch of Morgan Stanley was not overly intense, I was just working with a few extra figures. This increase in amount magnified any mistake I made, and I made quite a few mistakes, luckily these were only mistakes on internal reporting documents my managers (one in Beverly Hills and the other in Boston) were pretty cool with it, but still pointed these mistakes out. I remember the team assistant, AT, being so gorgeous, she was taken, or I wouldve been all over that, I wanted to marry her. There were three women that I wanted to marry: 1 - Vivi, 2 - Jenny, 3 - AT
About 2 months in to living in Los Angeles AT, told me about the website Thrillist. I thought "wow Thrillist is so cool, all these awesome events…wait whats thus 'Rental Car Rally?'" The more I read about it, the more I became supremely interested and thought, oh man my friend GA would be PERFECT as my co pilot. I kept thinking about all the hijinks we would get in to, and the speeding, and the (name your debaucherous activity here). GA flew out to LA, we secured a rental Camaro SS coupe and headed for the rally.
We get to the staging area and we see a flood of other cars, buses, and people dressed in ridiculous outfits "this is going to be too much fun!" we said to each other. As the staging process moves on we see some incredible car decorations, and at the end of the pre-rally warm up we are given the option to race on a circle track, being the speed demons that GA & I were, we A B S O L U T E L Y took full advantage of that option. There was no passing allowed, and a quarter track length between each racer. We stage in line - our turn comes up and I bury the throttle, the rear tires barely having grip as we rocket onto the track, I didn’t dare to go above 125 MPH sine I was unsure about the condition of the tires. As we finished what was essentially a penis-size competition, I decided to do an enormous burnout in the middle of the track. After that burnout we were off to the races.
The rally was set up as a series of checkpoints, you have to take a photo at each checkpoint for proof you were there. First checkpoint: LA Zoo. Going to a zoo during the day is interesting, and smelly. At night however, its frightening different sounds and screams from other ralliers in the distance, we took a photo and drove, withi the speed limits, o course, to the next check point. This checkpoint was an abandoned ski lodge, perfect for messing around on abandoned ski lifts. After the ski lodge, we vebtured out into the desert, we only had 1 checkpoint between the LA Zoo and Vegas, and that checkpoint was on the very western edge of Nevada, a brothel - GA said he had no interest in buyin their "product," I remarked to GA how sad I as that I didnt "dip my pen in Dutch ink" while I was in Amsterdam with KD, yet I too was leery of getting some western Nevada 'strange.' We terorized a few trailer parks, doing insane burnouts and leaving the trailer parkhood in dust.
GA and I get to the strip, our rental Camaro SS was filthy, but we gave no fuc*s. We pull up the crappy little off-strip motel, a motel that was likely used by the hookers around Las Vegas, toss our bags on the floor and crashed for about 4 hours. Our room was right be the Lima Bean shaped pool so we could hear the fellow ralliers horsing around by the pool. Greg gets up, looks out the window, tosses me a Natural Light and says; "the only way to detox is to retox muthaf*****!"
To which I replied :"that’s excellent, but first pack a bowl beforeI shower to get this wester Nevada hooker scent off me…"
We both get out to the pool and EVERYONE rom the starting line is there, they were all really really drunk. Since I was a little tired, and wanted to be on my game for gambling that night, I didn’t drink or smoke. The night rolled around and we rustled up some grub on the strip, then we went to MGM to gamble: "Im not putting more than $50 down for chips…"
"Cool, imma do $100, you broke bitch" GA said.
We decide to play some slots (yawn), some Roulette (yawn), then I said I wanted to play some BlackJack. We walked up to the black jack table, waited for the dealer to reshuffle, and jumped in. I felt really smart so I thought I could count cards, after a few hands I started to turn a $5 to $10 to $20 profit, leaving me with $50, the exact same as I started with I thought: "ok, I can quit now, or go for glory, and put 80% down…" Me being the dumb kid I was, I decided to put $40 down and risk it all.
"ohhhh the little piker thinks hes got game!?" The dealer said
"Ehhhh" I replied
The cards come out and I get a 9 and a King.
"I bet you want a hit…"
"Nah, the only hit im taking will be the hit of Cannabis I take after I win this hand"
"Ok kid"
The dealer got a 5, Queen. "I bet you want a hit…" I said in a snarky tone
He took a card, a 7.
I said: "Id like to close out, please"
"Awwww poor kid cant play!?"
"Id like to close out, please"
"Ok tough guy"
I take my chips, get them cashed, and wound up with $95. I turned to GA: "I see how this can get addictive, I turned a 90% ROI!"
"We both laughed, piled into the Camaro, and GA drove us back to LA. GA hung out with DS for an extra day in LA while I was at work - about a month went by before my portfolio manager GD told me I needed to get to Boston to meet the other half of the team, I had only spoken to AS & SG on the phone, trying to explain how to use my messed up spreadsheets. Upon the meeting I figured: "Im already in the North East, I will swing down to NYC to visit RL, RN & MS.
The first night we were itogether, we just went out, got drunk, went to MS' friends apartment, but she wasn’t home yet. So MS and I decided to sleep, on the loor, in front of her door in a fairly swanky Upper East Side apartment. Early that morning MS and I were both awoken by a securoty guard kicking our feet: "uhhhh whats goin on here?"
"oh, sorry we got locked out by our friend she didn’t come home last night, do you all have a lounge?"
"yep, to the right of the front desk"
"Awesome, thank you"
MS and I slept on couches (what a luxury until JP came home. We got cleaned up and I grabbed my bag and went to MS, RN, and RLs apartment. Except it was a 2-bedroom. RL has converted a narrow, but very tall closet into a bedroom/loft. RL and I had been friends since high school, so I felt ok asking him if I could toss my stuff in his room. It was Saturday night, so we all got cleaned up, grabbed a pizza ate in, and got hyped for Saturday night.
"Where should we go?" asked RN.
Me:"I really wanna go to Pacha near westside highway! I get a podcast every week by them, and they have awesome music!"
RN asks:"Ok, everybody cool with Pacha?"
MS:"I wanna hit a college bar, maybe we go there to pregame, then Pacha?"
Me: "yeah that sounds splendifferous"
We set out, at the college bar, I ended up taking 3 shots and I was done for, I cant remember a thing. I stumble up to the bar and ask or a Heineken. "Ohhh is that for me?" An unseen girl asked
"Sure, if we go home tonight."
"OK"
Not being able to believe my ears, I turned around and I see this really cuteAsian girl with her hand out.
"hmm youre pretty thirsty huh?"
"Like you wouldn’t believe" as she snatched the beer out of my hand
"Well maybe you can give me some private tutoring, so I do believe."
"Im a great teacher"
"Well, I kinda suck at school, anything you can do?"
"Well as far as sucking, I think we can work something out"
"well, Ill be sure to get you an extra juicy Apple"
"Sounds delicious"
We danced, occasionally kissing, and made our way back to RL, RN & MS' apartment. When we got there I realized I had no bed to sleep on, only a couch, but RL being the good friend he is said: "Y'all can sleep (wink) in my bed."
"The dungeon!? Yesssss. Thanks man."
So, this girl (didn’t and still don’t know her name) amble up the ladder, she was wearing a skirt and wanted to go first. "Ok I know where this is going…to the bed!"
"Aww cant we play teachestudent first?"
"Only if I get a taste of that Apple I brought you..."
The next morning was my flight out to LA at 4:56 PM, so I had time to grab brunch with the guys before I left. We ate on Chelsea Pier, I felt obliged to 'kiss and tell,' and extol them with my heroics. In retrospect, they probably didn’t want to hear it, I banged some random, probabky nasty girl on RLs bed. We finished lunch had some fun on Chelsea pier, and I flew back to LA. While back in Beverly Hills I was incredibly tire, but I took pride in recounting every detail to DV, knowing AT could hear. I stupidly thought: "if she hears how much fun im having, she might get jealous and want to hangout with me." I was such a devious little shit.
I finish telling DV just as GD walks in to hear the punchline; "…so I brought her back and got her on my friends bed!" GD walks to his station, with four screens (I used to think the ore screens you have the more of a boss you are, now I think the less you have to involve yourself with day-to-day, and intraday moves the more of a 'boss' you are) I can feel him staring at me smiling my ass of, he says "I WANT TO FU*KING HEAR!" So I launch into my tale (or should I say tail).
Later that week I called my father while biking to the gym. I called him because I made an error In the execution of a large fixed income trade, the price of the underlying security moved away from the price quoted, normally this would not matter since we had discretion over trading - meaning we would not need client approval. However, this was a trade for our largest client making a large fixed income purchase, so $.01 makes a big difference when the quantity purchased is in the millions. My father recounts this story to me as an almost emblematic admission of previous of apprehension towards him, and my subsequent of rectification.
As theNYC buzz began to wear off, I started going to bars around LA; SkyBar, and Viper Room one night my two buddies DS & DS, and I all agreed that we should go to Club Avalon, I was a huge electronic progressive house music aficionado so going to world famous club Avalon was *almost* as sweet as NYC with my bros. DS and I cohosted 'Techno Storytime' on the school radio, so we were super pumped to hear some much in the 110 - 130 BPM range.
Still feeling the nightlife buzz from NYC, I found myself able to easily to talk to girls. Doug and I were kinda wall flowers/club explorers, neither one of us has been to Avalon, but upon exploring it we both agreed, DS would love it too, we should start meeting there monthly. The night wore on, I found myself uninterested in paying $12.00 for a bottle if Heineken, so I started to hit on some women, DS and I had explored too much and I only had 30 minutes to seal the deal. So I got to work, quickly scored the number, but we got sidetracked talking about a subject I really, really enjoy; political analysis.
We talked political analysis I wish I could remember what she was saying, she was so on the ball, that awareness only increased my attraction to her. We talked for a bit, we went to the outside portion of the club, seeing her in the moonlight I thought; "shit, she is magnificent, screw AT if I land her. Her looks combined with her intellect make her a superwoman, exactly the type of woman I want carrying my seed. By this point 20 minutes had elapsed, and the club began emptying, "oh shit better seal th-"
"It was amazing talking to you, but I have to find my friends."
"Wait, maybe we…"
She was gone from my life, at least I had her number…
I moped back to DS, he asked me: "Howd it go man!?"
I started yelling that 'I couldn’t seal the f$%^ing deal!"
"Its cool man, this is a big city, im sure youll have other shots, lets catch a cab back to my crib, smoke a bowl watch a movie and forget about all this."
"Aight dude that sounds awesome."
So, we go out to the taxi area, DS and I just bullshitting, and he stop talking: "…so DS has this sick fader on his turn tab…. Wait, what was the name of the girl you were talking to?"
"Why? K(atie)A(ltman…)
"KATIE!!!!!!"
"D what the…."
"KATIE!!!!!!"
"Oh Shit that’s Katie!"
He yells -"KATIE!!!!!!"
She turns around as she is getting in to her cab, with her buddies. I sprint over to her cab wrench the cab door open, and ride with the back to their apartment in Laurel Canyon. From here, I don’t have a clear memory of what happened but I woke up in my bed the next morning. "Shit" I thought, did I walk back to Franklin from Laurel Canyon? Guess I don’t need to work out today! So I rolled back over and dozed for another 45minutes until I get a text from the girl who was sweating me at the gym, CS.
A little back story on CR; I was always checking her out, so was always pushing her massive chest out when I would walk by and she was on a machine. Then one day she walked up behind me while I was doing pushups, waited for me to finish me set… "ninety eight…ninety nine…one hundered, I don’t know I you were listening there I did 100 pushups, ha ha ha
"Is that rom a movie???"
"Anchorman!"
"Ohhhh, well lets see how you do with me riding yourback!"
"Wait what?"
CR straddled my back and plopped down. I pretended to not be able do any with her on my back. "Come on muscle man, make me ride you!"
"Um, im not sure I feel comfortable announcing to the gym that you want to fuck me"
"Who said that, that wishful thinking man…"
"How about we compare our wishes, what is a good night next week to take you to dinner?"
"Sunday night"
"Sunday!?!?"
"I am a nurse so I work weird hours, but next Sunday night, lets get take out, a bottle of wine and some…youre from India right?"
"Half"
"Ok, some Hindu Kush, sit on the beach in Santa Monica and share dinner."
"Whoa, yes ma'am!"
"Ma'am?"
"Southern thing, I tell you about on Sunday night."
"Can't wait" She said with a smile
I left the LA Fitness on Hollywood BLVD. next to the Chinese Theater in a dream state. Then I realized that Sunday night was 2 nights away! Shit I need to get wine and a ton of Hindu Kush! I secured the Hindu Kush (too much), but not the wine, I wanted to get Red, and White to give her the option. Since I has just moved into my new apartment, I didn’t have time to set everything up, so I didn’t have time to buy a cooler to chill the white wine; "I will have to buy it the night of."
I searched my room and couldn’t find any more bud, so I decided to Meet DS and DS for dinner, we wound up going to a bar too - oops! Needless to say I didn’t get to pick up the wine, or the Kush, id have to pick it up before the date, tomorrow. "Hey do you guys know I any dispensaries are open on Sunday??
"They arent, but our friend owns one, he'll sell to you."
"Awesome"
So, I contact DS and DS' buddy; I meet him and buy absolutely too much bud, and buy some gummies too, I swing back by my apartment on Franklin, drop off the dry bud" CR and I wont need that much, and get a call from DS, Ds and crew: "Yooo nuppal, were gonna go catch a movie, you down?"
"Yeah man lets do it!"
I quickly grab my backpack, remembering that I needed to pick up the wine, and knowing I needed to bring some bud. I hopped on my bike and roade over to East Hollywood to catch a flick with them. I pull up, get off the bike as theyre rolling up, I swing my backpack across, thinking im going to light up. I open the back pack… "Hey guys lets do this before…" Open the back pack a but more and reach in feeling for my bowl and the tupperware with the dry kush, and realizing that I hadnt unpacked the edibles that id bought. So, I skipped the dry bud and said: "hey guys I just bought these edibles, lets each grab some gummies and watch the movie…"
"Alright dude, but Edibles will hit when the movie is ending, but yeah man!"
So we take some gummies, and watch the movie. DS was right, the gummies did begin to take effect as the movie ended: "shit" I thought "Im gonna have to ride to Santa Monica while pretty high…no big deal, I hate riding high though." As Im riding down Sunset BLVD, heading west towards Santa Monica I happen to look up at the sky during a red light. The magnificence of a South-Western Southern California sunset is something everyone must enjoy, similar to the colors a Monet painting. I stared up at the sky for longer than the light was red, so people behind me became agitated. I quickly moved down Sunset blvd. at the famous (or infamous) intersection of Sunset Blvd. & Larrabee St. in West Hollywood.
Still mesmerized by the sunset, yet trying to focus, I see a clapped out For Expedition come from Larrabee, turning left onto Sunset the intended turn was in my path. I took a second to process "this is my path what the fuohhhh," going from euphoric joy to life saving maneuvers is not something they teach in MSF school, good thing I never went. After processing his intended trajectory I slammed on the brakes,
A part-time bartender at the Viper Room "didn’t see his red light due to sun" and was under assume every light is 'Green' for him. So he decided that even though there is traffic on Sunset, he would rather turn o make sure there was no traffic going in his intended direction on Sunset. I knew that grabbing too much front brake would send me headfirst into the pavement and his car, and into my coffin. So, I decided to overapply the rear brake, lay the bike down and hope for the best, I guess 'the best' of an inherently shitty situation did occur, I lived! However, while sliding through the Sunset & Larrabee intersection my back connected with the end of his passenger-side running board, my brand new Scorpion Exo-1000 hit the running board as well. Instantly knocked out. According to the report filed by the ambulance driver I was 'unresponsive' at the scene, but no external blood, save a bit of road rash were my jacket bunched up underneath my left arm, I suffered a 'severe' DAI brain injury (Diffuse Axonal Injury) and 26 brain bleeds.
Luckily, the ambulance ride was at most 8 minutes to Cedars-Siani Beverly Hills, this hospital was on my commute path to and from work, on Maple Dr. I always wondered what the building was, so much property in the heart of Beverly Hills however, this was NOT the method I intended to find out about this building. Must have been a funny scene in the office the next Monday. "Looks like Nick is late again" said AT
My dad gave me my first laugh post injury, we agree that laughter is the vanguard of healing mental and physical ailments.
submitted by baby_meatus to stories [link] [comments]


2020.05.04 01:38 EleventhTry [EVENT] A Digital Future

Federal Communications Commission

445 12th Street SW, Washington, D.C.
 
Although the United States is home to several, if not most of the world's largest information corporations and Americans being one of the most avid users in the world of the internet, we lack behind severely among other OCED nations in several sectors. Notably, millions of Americans lack access to high-speed internet, and in some places, internet at all. As the arrival of globalization and the dominance of the information-age unravels, there is an ever increasing need for Americans to be online. A report by the Federal Communications Commission in 2022 shows that roughly 92.8% of all Americans are connected to the internet, although there are several million in this number who do not have access to high-speed internet. Although having updated the definition of broadband in 2015, the Federal Communications Commission has again called for a review of this definition among other existing policies on the books. New Chairman Jessica Rosenworcel to many is a breath of fresh air to several critics of the FCC, as well as to economic analysts, information companies, and middle-class Americans. However, her bold stances do render her as a threat to many internet providers not seeking the best interests of Americans.
 

5G

  Bringing to the city of Seattle a limited 5G commercial network was CenturyLink which had started plans for an implementation of this in 2018. Although, only about 1/3rd of the city is covered by the network, with CenturyLink promising to get the rest of the city covered by the end of 2024. The success of this large leap has showed the possibility of spreading further 5G networks into larger American cities, but that will have to wait for the future. Although, CenturyLink is not alone in the pursuit of 5G networks, as AT&T, Verizon, and Frontier Communications have promised the arrival of a 5G network in the city's with their HQ. All 4 companies have announced plans towards implementing national 5G coverage by 2036 with 3/5ths of the United States to be fully covered with 5G access by 2030.
 

Fiber

  Although hopes were cut for many when Google announced it would no longer expand Google Fibre, this has been recently reversed. CEO of Google Inc. Sundar Pichai announced after the arrival of the 5G network in Seattle that this would be reversed, as Google put out invitations across the country to several metropolitan areas to deploy the fiber. Google has begun deployment of cable in these cities, which will fully connect their respective metropolitan areas by 2026.
 
  • Dallas-Fort Worth, TX
  • San Jose, CA
  • Palo Alto, CA
  • San Antonio, TX
  • San Diego, CA
  • Seattle, WA
  • Portland, OR
  • Houston, TX
  • Boston, MA
  • Nashville, TN
  • Atlanta, GA
  • Las Vegas, NV
  • Waco, TX
  • Toledo, OH
  • Washington, District of Columbia + New Columbia
  • Raleigh, NC
  • Lincoln, NE
  • Miami, FL
  • Des Moines, IA
  • Tallahassee, FL
 
This massive expansion will launch Google into being a much larger Internet Service Provider across the United States. Similarly, AT&T has announced their intentions to make further strides in the deployment of cable, planning to lay around 1,440 cumulative miles of fiber in the states of Iowa, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Kentucky, Ohio, Arkansas, Tennessee, Wisconsin, Michigan, Pennsylvania, and West Virginia. This ambitious plan to bring cable has been funded by both AT&T and the cities that it will run through and connect. Existing plans to complete this put 2029 as the end date. Helping to combat the costs, all 12 of the recently mentioned states will be issuing grants for the deployment of the fiber cable, at a total cost of $19 billion. This is to be received from newly imposed state taxes on sodas and alcohol, and a newly leveraged nation-wide federal tax rate for cigarettes to be listed:
 
  • Helping to fund this package, the federal tax rate for cigarettes will be raised from $1.01 per pack to $1.42 per pack.
  • Tennessee will raise its tax on beer from $1.17 per gallon to $1.32 per gallon.
  • West Virginia and Ohio will raise its tax on beer from $0.18 per gallon to $0.74 per gallon
  • Wisconsin and Missouri will raise its tax on beer from $0.06 per gallon to $0.64 per gallon.
  • Michigan will raise its tax on beer from $0.20 per gallon to $0.85 per gallon.
  • Indiana will raise its tax on beer from $0.12 per gallon to $0.68 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
  • Pennsylvania will raise its tax on beer from $0.08 per gallon to $0.72 per gallon.
  • Arkansas will raise its tax on beer from $0.34 per gallon to $.0.99 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
  • Illinois will raise its tax on beer from $0.23 per gallon to $0.89 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
  • Kentucky will raise its tax on beer from $0.78 per gallon to $1.24 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
  • Ohio will raise its tax on beer from $0.18 per gallon to $0.68 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
  • Iowa will raise its tax on beer from $0.19 per gallon to $0.70 per gallon. State-wide institution of a one-cent-per-ounce soda tax.
[M] Going off of this%20(2).png)
 

FCC

 
Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission Jessica Rosenworcel publicly announced changes to existing guidelines following a 2021 Broadband Progress Report. These changes will move existing required download speeds for classification as broadband from downloads speeds of 25 Mbps and upload speeds of 3 Mbps to download speeds of 40 Mbps and upload speeds to 5 Mbps. Rules regarding net neutrality will be congressionally set to as they were in the Open Internet Order back in 2010 following an act proposed by Representative Kennedy III, (D-MA)
 
submitted by EleventhTry to GlobalPowers [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 08:54 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:07 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to welcometohell [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:06 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to TheChills [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:06 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to stayawake [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:06 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to SignalHorrorFiction [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:05 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to Odd_directions [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:05 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to libraryofshadows [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:04 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to Horror_stories [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:04 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to foulweather [link] [comments]


2020.04.12 07:04 rhonnie14 They’re Gonna Send You To Milledgeville

We hadn’t talked in a long time. Not since high school in Stanwyck, Georgia. But that was the beauty of the internet, right? To reconnect.
Reddit led me back to u/Traque90 and u/Anuacyl. Then Facebook solidified our friendship. To my relief, we still had the shared love for writing and horror. For exploring haunted locations. The chemistry was still there. We met in Atlanta a few times after that. And for the first time in over ten years, we went on a road trip.
Now here we were. All three of us crammed inside my silver Camry. Anuacyl right beside me, Traque in the backseat. We had our sights set on exploring the Tate House in Milledgeville, Georgia. A haunted house dating back to the nineteenth century. We also planned on visiting other nearby paranormal hotspots like Samford Hall and the Old Governor’s Mansion.
Beneath the smooth April sunlight, our journey was joyous. Aside from stopping at the occasional convenience store for booze and bathrooms, we partied hard along the way. The Killers and other 2000s rock a constant on the radio. With cups of beer and wine, there was no rush for Milledgeville… especially when we had each other’s company.
On my fourth beer, I looked over at Anuacyl. Her pale complexion and sly dimples. Her free spirit well on display with the long brown hair and Doctor Who tee. On the other hand, Traque was more reserved. Behind the big glasses, his bright eyes studied us with a writer’s gaze. Not that we were complaining… I have to admit, if I was single I’d have been quite smitten with these two.
Anuacyl faced my slender frame. My angular face. “Are you sure they’ll let us explore?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, the Tate House at least.” I flashed her a goofy smile. “Milledgeville likes their ghost tours.”
“I bet,” she replied with a laugh.
“Sounds like every small town,” Traque commented.
We turned to face his smirk. Traque’s dry humor always on point. He held up his cup of wine.
“I wouldn’t wanna find ghosts with anyone else!” Traque added.
“Same,” Anuacyl replied. “Have you seen any before, Rhonnie?”
“I haven’t but know people who have…” I said. I looked between the two. Enjoying their pretty spotlight. “Especially at night.”
Excited, Anuacyl grabbed my arm. “Can we sneak in tonight then?”
“Of course, we can,” Traque said with confident snarkiness.
I nodded. “He’s right. No one gives a damn.”
“It’s that easy, huh?” Anuacyl quipped.
The Milledgeville city limits sign greeted us.
I brushed my emo swoop to the side. “Yo, we made it!”
Leaning in closer, Traque revealed a pearly smile. “Where we going to first?”
I stared on at the highway. After the rear projection of endless forest, I was glad to finally see houses. Small stores and restaurants. “I don’t know. I was thinking we could get a flavor of the Tate House before sneaking in tonight.”
“I like the sound of that,” Traque replied.
We both looked over at Anuacyl. Our peer pressure so charming.
“Sure, let’s go!” she said.
But Milledgeville was different. Different than how I remembered. The stores looked unfamiliar. Abandoned if not for the fact customers were still at the full service gas station. At SweeTreats, a random ice cream shop. But the buildings were so old and desolate. Too hideous to be kitschy.
“Where’s the house?” Anuacyl asked.
Then I saw it on the horizon. Like a haunted castle on the hill: Milledgeville’s Central State Hospital. The brick buildings all spread out on the sprawling property. The hospital’s driveway so long and spiraling... leading all the way up to an even longer stone staircase. To the towering pillars. The entrance to what appeared to be the world’s largest mausoleum.
All three of us looked on at the eerie sight. Totally fucking creeped out.
I was more frightened than the others. Because I knew. I knew Central State was supposed to be further down the road. In the darkness on the edge of town. Not this soon… Where were the familiar parts of Milledgeville? The parts I always passed before reaching the asylum.
“Yo, what the fuck’s that!” Traque said, unusual excitement in his voice.
Battling the rising fear, I turned my gaze back toward the road. In desperate search of anything recognizable. Anything that could explain the disappearance of both the town and my memories. “It’s the old state hospital,” I said. I flashed a smile at my fascinated friends. “My dad told me back when he was a kid, they’d always say don’t do anything crazy or we’ll ship you to Milledgeville!”
“Oh shit!” Traque said.
Anuacyl turned and watched the hospital vanish in the background. “Wait, is it supposed to be haunted?
Keeping a firm grip on the wheel, I didn’t slow down. Too eager to leave this fucking place behind. “They say it is.”
Traque leaned in toward us. “It looks fucking haunted. We should go in.”
“Oh, I was gonna surprise y’all.”
A blue sign cheered me up. Its Crayola-style letters a beacon of hope amidst the anxiety: Downtown Milledgeville! Straight Ahead!
Now relaxed, I slowed down a bit. Of course, I knew the downtown. Milledgeville had a cute square, cute gazebo. An All-America Utopia. And we were so close.
“I just wanted to show y’all the Tate House and Old Governor’s Mansion first,” I continued. “They got some people patrolling the hospital, but it won’t be as guarded at night.”
“Gotcha,” Traque replied. “Both that and Tate at night. I’m down.”
“Save the best for last,” I said with a forced smile. I looked over at Anuacyl’s eager eyes. “I think Flannery O’Connor was inspired by the hospital.”
Traque cracked up. “I can only imagine. It looked scary as fuck.”
“It really is...”
Curious, Anuacyl turned her focus toward the highway. Toward the forest. The stray warehouses. Toward downtown’s arrival. “So is the Tate House downtown?”
“Yeah.” I leaned in closer. “It should be coming up…”
Then horror crashed my brief buzz. There was that oldass full service gas station again. SweeTreats. All those bizarre businesses. Buildings that were tombstones in this Georgia graveyard… No different than the same customers that were still there.
I shivered in the sunlight. “What the fuck…”
“Didn’t we just drive through here?” I heard Traque say.
“Yeah.... I don’t understand.” Struggling to keep my composure, I turned down The Killers. Tried to focus rather than panic. “I must’ve missed the turn.”
Next to me, Anuacyl entered an enthralled silence. She stared on ahead. A smile creeping across her face…
“Maybe it loops around or something,” Traque commented. Getting drunker and drunker, he slouched in the backseat. “All these weirdass Georgia roads…”
Now I saw what Anuacyl was admiring.
There on the left lurked Central State Hospital. They’d sent us off to Milledgeville, alright… And with my nerves hitting a wild fever pitch, I probably belonged there at this point.
“Shit…” I muttered. I wanted to zoom on by… but deep down, I knew there was no escape. Not now. I felt anxiety further grip my soul. Felt it make my foot ease up on the gas pedal… The Camry now slowed to a lethargic speed. An unseen force coercing me to Milledgeville’s most notorious resident.
Traque leaned in behind me. Both our restless gazes stayed on the old asylum. No cars were present. No security. No sign of life.
“You think we should go?” he asked.
I faced the highway’s battered pavement. “Naw, we should just go to the Tate House-”
With sudden ferocity, Anuacyl snatched my arm.
“No, please!” she said.
I turned and looked into her pleading eyes.
“It’s a sign, Rhonnie,” she said.
Grinning, Traque set his sights on the hospital. We were now closer to it. Closer to its many entrances. “She’s right.”
I felt Anuacyl’s grip tighten. A chain binding me to Central State.
“Let’s check it out,” Anuacyl said.
“Yeah, I don’t see anybody!” Traque said.
“Come on, Rhonnie,” Anuacyl exclaimed. She leaned in closer.
We were now only a few feet away from the drive leading to the hospital’s pecan orchard. The easiest way to sneak in... A spot I hadn’t explored in over a decade.
“Tell us the story,” Anuacyl said.
Like a tour guide, I gave in to the audience. I drove us down that side road. On to the asylum’s haunted hallowed ground.
Along the way, I broke down Central State’s lore. The SparkNotes version, sure. But that was scary enough... Enough to creep me out for the hundredth time.
Built in 1842, the hospital never changed. Just grew over time in size and legend. Central State had issues. Nothing nefarious. The torture wasn’t purposeful. There were just too many Goddamn patients. If reports were true, the staff-to-patient ratio swelled up to around one to one hundred.
With no resources and room, the hospital had no choice but to cut corners. Crazed children were kept in cages, strait-jackets became part of the patients’ unofficial uniforms. Various “techniques” were used not so much to help as subdue… Cheaper, practical, sadistic methods ranging from shock therapy to lobotomies. Before the hospital finally shut down, studies revealed licensed psychiatrists were no longer on site. There was no rehabilitation attempted, much less possible. Central State Hospital was a tomb for the troubled. Both within its brick walls and within its twenty-five thousand unmarked graves.
In the pecan orchard, I parked behind a cluster of trees. Regardless of the high grass and dying tree limbs, the orchard was a sanctuary compared to the rest of this dead zone.
I hesitated. Scanned the property. A back building stood right before us. One of its doors wide open. But not even the bright sun could resurrect the frightening sight. The centuries of torture and victims trapped inside.
“I don’t see anybody at least,” Anuacyl commented.
“You know, I just realized something,” I heard Traque say. He laid a hand on my shoulder. His grin grabbing Anuacyl and I’s attention. “This is like the center, you know. The center of everything.”
Anuacyl chuckled. “What do you mean?”
Unable to control his enthusiasm, Traque motioned toward the building. “This hospital’s located between all of us... Like in the middle of our triangle.”
“It is called Central State…” I quipped.
Traque grabbed Anuacyl’s arm. “You’re in Augusta, right?”
“Yeah…” Anuacyl replied.
Trauqe turned his excited eyes toward me. “And you’re in Columbus still right, Rhonnie?”
Thanks to Traque, I was feeling more and more uneasy. “Well, yeah...”
With a wild cackle, Traque pointed at himself. “And I’m in Atlanta! Just think about it, man! Where we all live now.” He pointed at the hospital’s brick corpse. “This hospital’s in the middle of our fucking triangle!”
Anuacyl smirked. “So what? You’re saying this is like destiny or something?”
“Hell, maybe! I don’t know!”
Amidst their laughter, I looked on at Central State. The open door. The many cracked windows. We were now in the middle of these one thousand acres. Far from the main highway. All alone in this country asylum... And about to check in.
Everyone grabbed their booze and stepped out into the sunshine. Anuacyl and Traque had me play lookout. Not that I was complaining. I lingered behind in the orchard. Watched my two friends make their way to the ominous entrance. From here, I could tell Central State was a dark dungeon. Even beyond the grave.
“Y’all sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I hollered.
“No!” replied Anuacyl.
Holding his cell phone, Traque faced me. “You’ve already been.” He waved around the property. “Just lookout for cops! Call us if you see anyone!”
Smiling, I flashed them a thumbs up. “Will do!”
I stood there in the perfect weather. Took another sip. The beer did little for my nerves... not at this point. Once Anuacyl and Traque disappeared inside, there was silence all around me. No breeze, no sounds. Just a deathly silence reserved for graveyards. Of course, I wasn’t too far from one. This unofficial cemetery anyway.
In the orchard, I looked on at the scene. The rows and rows of trees on life support. None of them able to produce prosperous pecans.
I paced through the tall grass. Saw the surrounding wilderness. The forest a barricade between the hospital and safety. I then stopped and confronted Central State. That door was still open. Still a gateway to a disturbing past. I started to reach for my phone...
Until I saw him.
A short, skinny man emerged from the darkness. Right from the hospital. A white lab coat was draped across his nice clothes. A surgical mask disguised his face.
Sunlight shined off the man’s bald head. His huge goggles. And off the ice pick he held in one hand. The slender hammer in the other. Perfect tools for a good old-fashioned lobotomy.
I stared on in horror. Certain the man had a wicked smile behind that mask.
As the doctor got closer, I raised my iPhone. Ready to call my friends.
A sharp shot of pain made me cry out. The next one made me stagger back.
Those headaches got worse... Quick bursts in my mind. Each of them so sharp and scathing. This was a fucking braingraine.
Memories sliced into me. Me as a teen back in Stanwyck. Anuacyl and Traque watching Scream with me in Anuacyl’s living room. The boxed wine a flourish for our friendship.
Through the haze, I saw the doctor now enter the orchard. He raised the ice pick. His precise glare focused on me. His steps methodical and efficient.
More pain hit me. Grabbing my temple, I fell back against a tree. Too tormented to scream. Now I saw my left hand shaking beyond belief. Beyond my control. This Southpaw a slave to chilling sensations. To these shocks.
Call it a premonition… or even a flashback. But an image played before me like a frightening horror movie. I saw myself in a dark hospital room. A room without a window. No lighting. And surrounded by screams… How I ended up there, I don’t know. Much less how I recognized the Central State Hospital’s operating room. I was strapped to a table, paralyzed and still except for a left hand that kept shivering in fear. Helpless to a mad doctor’s touch… The same one from the orchard.
The ice pick came hurtling at me.
Crying out, I grabbed my eye. Too late to stop the sharp tip… The sadistic “treatment.”
A tight grip grabbed my arm.
“Let’s fucking go!” I heard Traque yell.
Startled, I looked on at him and Anuacyl. The sun was now fading, but I still saw their terror. The dread shared between us. .
“What happened!” I shouted. My mind racing but no longer in pain. My left hand no longer trembling. The mad doctor no longer here. “Where’d he go!”
Still clutching my arm, Traque pulled me toward the Camry. “Let’s go!”
“They’re coming!” Anuacyl said.
Struggling to catch up with their panicking steps, I let them lead the way. “Who?”
Then I glanced back. Just in time to see the doctor emerge from the doorway. His hammer and icepick at the ready.
“Open the doors!” Anuacyl screamed.
I just let Traque keep dragging me away. Too fucking terrified to move on my own.
Beneath the dying sun, I saw the skinny man march toward us. A female doctor right behind him. Several nurses followed them out. All of them holding scalpels and syringes. All of them disguised by surgical masks. Their piercing glares glued to us.
14
submitted by rhonnie14 to DarkTales [link] [comments]


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