The Life Of A Racing Greyhound - Online Betting

Strange "Murders" Website uncovers Russian Conspiracy in the US

So, I've been part of what I thought was a game for a long time- it's this series of puzzles and stuff. I've posted about it on various "gaming" forums, because I thought it was a game.
Then a user who's been a friend of mine for a while posted this in our public forum. Our discord thread has been spammed with a bunch of Russian shit. Like, WHAT THE FUCK MAN. Here's his post:
Blood smells like copper. That's the part you don't think of. The smell. And it gets sticky fast.
A month ago I was working at a beer distributor in Chicago. Decent, easy, happy life. A little boring, maybe. I manage the sales team that makes sure thirsty Chicagoans keep drinking our beer, instead of the other guys'.
I was poking around reddit. I'm a big magical realism fan, I usually traverse /nosleep and /thetruthishere just for shits when I'm bored at work. I didn't know what it would....well. You'll see.
I found this weird link: "Study: University seeks to Crowd-Source Cold case murders," or something. Look back in my history, you'll see what I'm talking about.
Anyway, I play along. I figure it's some kind of game, or something. It's the internet; people do all kinds of weird shit. I was bored. Winter is easy at work- people in Chicago don't need an excuse to drink right now. It's fucking cold.
I get in. Weekly puzzles. Some hard, some not. All with this weird premise. Fine. Then, I get the dm on reddit:
"you dont' know who you're fucking with."
Throwaway account. I message back, something like "who is this?" and get: " твоя кровь " "Your Blood." or "it's your blood" as in "it's your ass" in Russian. It's a saying, apparently. There's a Russian dude at my office that tells me that. I don't know. Google translate isn't always the best.
Whatever. At this point, there's several hundred people playing at least. People are talking about it across a few different threads in reddit. That's a pretty active DM if this is a game, sending private messages, but sure.
I should mention at this point that I'm ahead in the Leaderboards for the "game." I solve these puzzles fast. There's a lot of stuff that's either just wordplay, brain teasers, math problems, and cipher shit. I've always been good at that kind of thing. I've made the Leaderboards 3 times, top spot once.
Maybe that's why I'm getting messaged. The fucked up thing is that my reddit handle isn't the same as the username I'm using. So....how would they know? I'm not using my real email on the site, for obvious reasons. There's nothing linking the two. Unless they're tracking my IP?
I'm intrigued. a little creeped out, but intrigued. This is more sophisticated than I was expecting.
So, now I'm intrigued. I get deeper in. There's a discord thread with a quite a few people trying to solve this, I'm on there, following along mostly. When the questions drop, I pipe in when I've solved something.
We get through question 4, last week, and it gets weird. The voice the site is written in changes. It becomes sarcastic, mocking almost- not the voice of a Grad student running a survey (not that this was ever that). Chiding us for working together.
How would it know?
It also splits up into three different storylines- one for Chicago, New York, LA. Weird poetry, strange imagery. A dead end in the puzzles.
I should also mention that at this point I'm spending way too much time on this shit. My work performance is suffering. My wife is mad. But this is intriguing enough to know.
That week I'd been yelled at by my boss for falling behind on a sales report. Two days late, and those are important for our metrics. I'd been on discord, de-ciphering. Good thing they don't track our internet usage.
I keep going, keep digging. There's a little "staff login" button on the site. I click. Needs a username and password. Fine. We find it, on the first site. It's in plain site. It wants to be found.
The second site, the "HQ" is even more fucked up. Weapons caches. A hit list, charts connecting members of white supremacist organizations, with their eyes photoshopped out. A series of communications between what looks like a secret organization. A manual for battlefield medicine.
I leave work. I'm reading on my phone in traffic. I'm reading at home, at dinner. My wife is angry. I keep reading.
Fucked up shit. Discord is saying it's promotion for a video game or something. I agree, it's probably that. But whatever it is, it's well done.
Then I get the phone call.
"I told you. You don't know who you're dealing with. Stop now" The voice is accented, eastern Europe. My blood goes cold. The line goes dead, and I sit there looking at the phone in my hand.
My wife sees my face, and asks what's happening. My infant son cries.
I tell her. I tell her everything and she's angry. Wants to know how they got our phone number. I tell her I don't know.
We fight. She's really angry. She says I'm putting our family in danger, says I shouldn't be messing around with whatever I'm messing with. Says I should call the police. And tell them what? She cries. I don't apologize, when I should. She asks me to leave, says she needs to think.
To be fair, it's been hard recently. Money's tight, the kid keeps us up. We haven't had a night to ourselves in over a year. Maybe we need a little break. Just for a night.
I pack a small bag, book an Airbnb on my phone. My wife watches me leave, holding our son. It's just one night. We need time off. Just one night off.
It's not far away, so I walk, and leave her the car. As I walk, I swear there's someone following. I hear footsteps, behind me. Glance back- Someone in dark clothing. When I turn back, I swear I see something flicker and flash in the shadows. Two quick golden flashes, like cat's eyes.
I stop, and stare into the shadows. Nothing moves. My breath steams in the night. I turn, and finish the distance at a half-jog.
Wifi password, computer, discord, the sites. We've found locations, that the organization has left for us. Three, in NY, Chicago, LA.
The group of solvers asks if there's anyone in Chicago. I'm in Chicago. It's been blindingly fucking cold- polar vortex, and all. But tomorrow? Tomorrow it'll be warm.
I stay up most the night, reading and re-reading the communiques on the HQ site. A group of people, friends. Violent conflict, skirmishes all over the US. Near-misses. A kill count. Blood.
The next morning I get up, and call in sick to work. It's 30ish degrees. Warm enough to go out. I call a Lyft, get to the location of the Chicago "drop."
I take my keys, snow boots, heavy coat. After a moment, I take a small paring knife from the kitchen. Just in case. Just to feel a little safer. The host won't notice. If they do, they can complain about it in their review of me.
It's out in the woods, in a park. There's a running trail, and lots of snow- black tree trunks and white snow- the world is an old photo. It's snowing again, soft, fat flakes floating down and deepening on the ground. They stick to my coat. The air is crisp.
I follow the trail. I have a photo on my phone- the drop is along this trail, at a crossroads. I've never been out here before. I'm alone.
Walking, my feet crunch. I stop momentarily, to take another look at the drop location photo on my phone, and notice another crunch.
One more footstep, after mine have stopped. Soft, careful, and barely audible. Not close, but not so far away I can't hear it. I freeze, listening. Trying not to give away that I've heard it. Trying to keep whoever watching me from knowing I know about them.
My hands shake, not from the cold. I chance it, and look back. The woods are silent, but for the soft whisper of falling snow. I can't see anyone, or hear anyone. I shout "Hello?!"
My voice sounds muffled by the snow. I hear no response.
I turn and run, sprinting down the path. I hear the footsteps then, on the path behind me. Not just one pair, multiples. Many. I reach into my pocket, feel the small knife, pull it out. I should have brought a bigger one.
My thoughts race- I need a plan. I don't have one. I slip on snow and ice, and regain my footing. Ahead, I see it- the crossroads.
The drop is supposed to be in the center of the crossroads. Hopefully it isn't deep. I drop to the ground, and begin to dig, my fingers and the knife scrabbling over the icy snow.
Behind me, the footsteps are getting louder. I stop for a second to listen...they're gaining. The site says these drops are weapons caches. Maybe there's something in here that can help me.
I dig, desperate. The tip of the knife strikes something metal with a clang. I stop, and utter a cry of joy and relief. A black metal container, like an ammo box, with a handle on top.
Then they round the corner. Two men. In black coats, black shirts, black jeans. And ski masks.
But, that's not what stops my heart cold. It's their eyes. Their eyes glow, like cat's eyes.
They stop. I stand. One says something to the other in a different language- sounds like Russian, but I can't be sure. I palm the knife, and say something like:
"We can work this out."
I take a step forward, kicking snow over the top of the drop I've uncovered. They don't seem to notice.
The one on the left rushes me. I don't think. My hand comes up, burying the knife in his throat, just below his chin. His glowing eyes bulge. His grip on my arm softens. He opens his mouth as if to speak. Blood comes out, dripping down the front of his shirt, and staining the snow a bright crimson.
Copper. It smells like copper.
The other one is on us. He hasn't seen what's happened to his friend yet- he's a few steps behind. He steps around and a stumble backwards, and go to the ground.
Bright red blood sprays across the snow in an arc as the knife comes away from the first man. He clutches his throat, goes to his knees.
The other one roars something in Russian, and turns to me, shining eyes ablaze. He comes towards me. I scrabble back. He straddles me, leaning down....it sounds like he's growling. Like an animal.
He reaches down. Grabs me by my coat.
I bury the knife in his boot. He howls, and leaps aside.
I jump up, and run. I run and don't look back. Trees fly by, snow crunches. My view blurs as tears from the cold stream down my cheeks. I run until the woods are gone, and I'm among the endless row-homes of Chicago's west side.
I stop, and vomit into the snow. A dog-walker across the street yells something like "are you okay?" I wave him away, and keep walking. I don't want him to see the smattering of blood on my coat and jeans.
I walk for a long time, my brain trying to piece together what has happened. What to do next. But I'm stuck in this loop. Footsteps. Eyes. Blood. The hot feel of blood on my hand. The copper smell.
I stop on the sidewalk and scream. A dog barks. The snow keeps falling.
I get a text from my wife: "I'm sorry. Please come home at lunch, we should talk." She doesn't know I'm not at work.
Then I get another notification on my phone. An email, from a protonmail account. I'm not familiar with that service.
"There are wolves, sheep, and sheepdogs. Welcome to the pack."
It has instructions about finding a bus ticket in a locker getting me out of town. Meeting in a small town in Nevada. An apology.
"Welcome to the pack."
I'm posting this from the greyhound station. I have to keep my family safe, and that means leaving town. Whoever came after me won't just send the two guys. I need allies, and the greyhound ticket I'm holding is my best bet.
My phone is dying. I just texted my wife "I love you more than anything. I'm sorry."
If anybody's reading this, don't play games you're not prepared to lose. "Welcome to the pack."
submitted by vlinden to conspiracy [link] [comments]

Don't play games you're not prepared to lose.

Blood smells like copper. That's the part you don't think of. The smell. And it gets sticky fast.

A month ago I was working at a beer distributor in Chicago. Decent, easy, happy life. A little boring, maybe. I manage the sales team that makes sure thirsty Chicagoans keep drinking our beer, instead of the other guys'.

I was poking around reddit. I'm a big magical realism fan, I usually traverse /nosleep and /thetruthishere just for shits when I'm bored at work. I didn't know what it would....well. You'll see.

I found this weird link: "Study: University seeks to Crowd-Source Cold case murders," or something. Look back in my history, you'll see what I'm talking about.

Anyway, I play along. I figure it's some kind of game, or something. It's the internet; people do all kinds of weird shit. I was bored. Winter is easy at work- people in Chicago don't need an excuse to drink right now. It's fucking cold.

I get in. Weekly puzzles. Some hard, some not. All with this weird premise. Fine. Then, I get the dm on reddit:

"you dont' know who you're fucking with."

Throwaway account. I message back, something like "who is this?" and get: " твоя кровь " "Your Blood." or "it's your blood" as in "it's your ass" in Russian. It's a saying, apparently. There's a Russian dude at my office that tells me that. I don't know. Google translate isn't always the best.

Whatever. At this point, there's several hundred people playing at least. People are talking about it across a few different threads in reddit. That's a pretty active DM if this is a game, sending private messages, but sure.

I should mention at this point that I'm ahead in the Leaderboards for the "game." I solve these puzzles fast. There's a lot of stuff that's either just wordplay, brain teasers, math problems, and cipher shit. I've always been good at that kind of thing. I've made the Leaderboards 3 times, top spot once.

Maybe that's why I'm getting messaged. The fucked up thing is that my reddit handle isn't the same as the username I'm using. So....how would they know? I'm not using my real email on the site, for obvious reasons. There's nothing linking the two. Unless they're tracking my IP?

I'm intrigued. a little creeped out, but intrigued. This is more sophisticated than I was expecting.

So, now I'm intrigued. I get deeper in. There's a discord thread with a quite a few people trying to solve this, I'm on there, following along mostly. When the questions drop, I pipe in when I've solved something.

We get through question 4, last week, and it gets weird. The voice the site is written in changes. It becomes sarcastic, mocking almost- not the voice of a Grad student running a survey (not that this was ever that). Chiding us for working together.

How would it know?

It also splits up into three different storylines- one for Chicago, New York, LA. Weird poetry, strange imagery. A dead end in the puzzles.

I should also mention that at this point I'm spending way too much time on this shit. My work performance is suffering. My wife is mad. But this is intriguing enough to know.

That week I'd been yelled at by my boss for falling behind on a sales report. Two days late, and those are important for our metrics. I'd been on discord, de-ciphering. Good thing they don't track our internet usage.

I keep going, keep digging. There's a little "staff login" button on the site. I click. Needs a username and password. Fine. We find it, on the first site. It's in plain site. It wants to be found.

The second site, the "HQ" is even more fucked up. Weapons caches. A hit list, charts connecting members of white supremacist organizations, with their eyes photoshopped out. A series of communications between what looks like a secret organization. A manual for battlefield medicine.

I leave work. I'm reading on my phone in traffic. I'm reading at home, at dinner. My wife is angry. I keep reading.

Fucked up shit. Discord is saying it's promotion for a video game or something. I agree, it's probably that. But whatever it is, it's well done.

Then I get the phone call.

"I told you. You don't know who you're dealing with. Stop now" The voice is accented, eastern Europe. My blood goes cold. The line goes dead, and I sit there looking at the phone in my hand.

My wife sees my face, and asks what's happening. My infant son cries.

I tell her. I tell her everything and she's angry. Wants to know how they got our phone number. I tell her I don't know.

We fight. She's really angry. She says I'm putting our family in danger, says I shouldn't be messing around with whatever I'm messing with. Says I should call the police. And tell them what? She cries. I don't apologize, when I should. She asks me to leave, says she needs to think.

To be fair, it's been hard recently. Money's tight, the kid keeps us up. We haven't had a night to ourselves in over a year. Maybe we need a little break. Just for a night.

I pack a small bag, book an Airbnb on my phone. My wife watches me leave, holding our son. It's just one night. We need time off. Just one night off.

It's not far away, so I walk, and leave her the car. As I walk, I swear there's someone following. I hear footsteps, behind me. Glance back- Someone in dark clothing. When I turn back, I swear I see something flicker and flash in the shadows. Two quick golden flashes, like cat's eyes.

I stop, and stare into the shadows. Nothing moves. My breath steams in the night. I turn, and finish the distance at a half-jog.

Wifi password, computer, discord, the sites. We've found locations, that the organization has left for us. Three, in NY, Chicago, LA.

The group of solvers asks if there's anyone in Chicago. I'm in Chicago. It's been blindingly fucking cold- polar vortex, and all. But tomorrow? Tomorrow it'll be warm.

I stay up most the night, reading and re-reading the communiques on the HQ site. A group of people, friends. Violent conflict, skirmishes all over the US. Near-misses. A kill count. Blood.

The next morning I get up, and call in sick to work. It's 30ish degrees. Warm enough to go out. I call a Lyft, get to the location of the Chicago "drop."

I take my keys, snow boots, heavy coat. After a moment, I take a small paring knife from the kitchen. Just in case. Just to feel a little safer. The host won't notice. If they do, they can complain about it in their review of me.

It's out in the woods, in a park. There's a running trail, and lots of snow- black tree trunks and white snow- the world is an old photo. It's snowing again, soft, fat flakes floating down and deepening on the ground. They stick to my coat. The air is crisp.

I follow the trail. I have a photo on my phone- the drop is along this trail, at a crossroads. I've never been out here before. I'm alone.

Walking, my feet crunch. I stop momentarily, to take another look at the drop location photo on my phone, and notice another crunch.

One more footstep, after mine have stopped. Soft, careful, and barely audible. Not close, but not so far away I can't hear it. I freeze, listening. Trying not to give away that I've heard it. Trying to keep whoever watching me from knowing I know about them.

My hands shake, not from the cold. I chance it, and look back. The woods are silent, but for the soft whisper of falling snow. I can't see anyone, or hear anyone. I shout "Hello?!"

My voice sounds muffled by the snow. I hear no response.

I turn and run, sprinting down the path. I hear the footsteps then, on the path behind me. Not just one pair, multiples. Many. I reach into my pocket, feel the small knife, pull it out. I should have brought a bigger one.

My thoughts race- I need a plan. I don't have one. I slip on snow and ice, and regain my footing. Ahead, I see it- the crossroads.

The drop is supposed to be in the center of the crossroads. Hopefully it isn't deep. I drop to the ground, and begin to dig, my fingers and the knife scrabbling over the icy snow.

Behind me, the footsteps are getting louder. I stop for a second to listen...they're gaining. The site says these drops are weapons caches. Maybe there's something in here that can help me.

I dig, desperate. The tip of the knife strikes something metal with a clang. I stop, and utter a cry of joy and relief. A black metal container, like an ammo box, with a handle on top.

Then they round the corner. Two men. In black coats, black shirts, black jeans. And ski masks.

But, that's not what stops my heart cold. It's their eyes. Their eyes glow, like cat's eyes.

They stop. I stand. One says something to the other in a different language- sounds like Russian, but I can't be sure. I palm the knife, and say something like:

"We can work this out."

I take a step forward, kicking snow over the top of the drop I've uncovered. They don't seem to notice.

The one on the left rushes me. I don't think. My hand comes up, burying the knife in his throat, just below his chin. His glowing eyes bulge. His grip on my arm softens. He opens his mouth as if to speak. Blood comes out, dripping down the front of his shirt, and staining the snow a bright crimson.

Copper. It smells like copper.

The other one is on us. He hasn't seen what's happened to his friend yet- he's a few steps behind. He steps around and a stumble backwards, and go to the ground.

Bright red blood sprays across the snow in an arc as the knife comes away from the first man. He clutches his throat, goes to his knees.

The other one roars something in Russian, and turns to me, shining eyes ablaze. He comes towards me. I scrabble back. He straddles me, leaning down....it sounds like he's growling. Like an animal.

He reaches down. Grabs me by my coat.

I bury the knife in his boot. He howls, and leaps aside.

I jump up, and run. I run and don't look back. Trees fly by, snow crunches. My view blurs as tears from the cold stream down my cheeks. I run until the woods are gone, and I'm among the endless row-homes of Chicago's west side.

I stop, and vomit into the snow. A dog-walker across the street yells something like "are you okay?" I wave him away, and keep walking. I don't want him to see the smattering of blood on my coat and jeans.

I walk for a long time, my brain trying to piece together what has happened. What to do next. But I'm stuck in this loop. Footsteps. Eyes. Blood. The hot feel of blood on my hand. The copper smell.

I stop on the sidewalk and scream. A dog barks. The snow keeps falling.

I get a text from my wife: "I'm sorry. Please come home at lunch, we should talk." She doesn't know I'm not at work.

Then I get another notification on my phone. An email, from a protonmail account. I'm not familiar with that service.

"There are wolves, sheep, and sheepdogs. Welcome to the pack."

It has instructions about finding a bus ticket in a locker getting me out of town. Meeting in a small town in Nevada. An apology.

"Welcome to the pack."

I'm posting this from the greyhound station. I have to keep my family safe, and that means leaving town. Whoever came after me won't just send the two guys. I need allies, and the greyhound ticket I'm holding is my best bet.

My phone is dying. I just texted my wife "I love you more than anything. I'm sorry."

If anybody's reading this, don't play games you're not prepared to lose. "Welcome to the pack."
submitted by beautrain to nosleep [link] [comments]

Abducted by a furry.

I'm from Ironton, Ohio. My name is Chris. (On ICQ, Yahoo and Aim I went by Blaze). This ~is~ my life's story, so it's pretty long. I'll pretty much be writing everything down in the order that I remember it happening.
My mother had me when she was 16, my dad was illiterate and had pretty severe bipolar as well as paranoid skitzophrenia. Childhood was hell because of the constant fighting and my dad flipping out and breaking things. Anyway, my mother had me put on SSI when I was maybe 7 or 8. I was diagnosed with ADHD but it was actually autism (they didn't know much about it or how to detect it back then), they put me on Ritalin, which I personally think is wrong and there are a lot of side affects to giving a child something like that such as hormonal changes and prostate issues later on. Kinda made me become sexual at too early of an age. Was always grinding against stuffed animals and I was only 8 or so, having messed up sexual fantasies.
Oh, I was also molested by a neighboor friend when I was 11, so that also could have had some effect on me.
My mom was the typical "battered wife" - when my dad had his flip outs she'd hide me in the closet. He'd break everything in the friggin' house. When I got older I tried to defend my mom, it was like a kind of contest between me and my dad to out-crazy each other. I'd come to her defense and basically want to beat the snot out of my dad and she'd just say "he's your father, it's not his fault, he's just got the devil in him." I hated hearing that.
I'd go to school and wonder if when I came home the house would be on fire or something. Life was pretty much go to school, come home, go upstairs to my room and try to avoid drama. I'd hear my parents fight and I'd just put on music.
My dad and I would work on cars when he wasn't being a crazy destructive bipolar nut job. He'd get salvage cars to fix up and we'd pull out the dents and fill the rest with Bondo and paint over them. Fun stuff, when he was being normal. Not so fun when he'd break whatever he was working on. That was my cue to go back upstairs and play Nintendo.
Oh yeah, he was working at a Junkyard under the table (he too was on SSI) my mom "managed" his money for him.
Went to a redneck Highschool, hated everyone there except for a few actually decent people. The place I went, you had to be racist to fit in. Everyone chewed snuff and bragged about having relatives in the Klan. I didn't have many friends, maybe enough to count on one hand. I made it a point to keep my real self hidden so I wouldn't face even more bullying. Everyone already harassed me enough for being a spazzy nerdy kid, the last thing I needed was for anyone to know about me being gay... (This fear of being outed prevented me from opening up to people I knew who might be gay, and Ironton is such a small place that once information leaks it travels rapidly).
There -was- a cute guy who was in the marching band who very clearly was gay, but I never had the courage to approach or out myself to him. Kinda wish I had slipped him a bit of paper with my phone number on it, but then also my mom listened in on my phone conversations by picking up the other receiver.
Got a computer maybe sometime around 10th grade. Started spending more time on that than hanging out with "friends" - I got acquainted with "furries" pretty much by accident, I was hanging out on a Tails (Sonic fandom) message board and through that I got into furry stuff.
I started getting on ICQ a lot, talking to all these strangers who shared a common interest in cute characters. I didn't get into the pornographic side of it til much later, though I had been having those kinds of fantasies in my head for a long time and quite early. Aside from ICQ I used Furcadia a lot. Furcadia was a graphical chat "game" sorta like what Second Life is, except it's all very basic and in 2D. You pick a species and clothes and walk around talking to other furries.
I got into Yahoo Groups and traded furry "yiff" pics (porn) with people.
Got into Vocational for my 11th and 12th year of school. Took computer classes. Didn't do a whole lot with it. I couldn't afford to take A+ cert test and took C+ cabling which I did nothing with after I graduated.
Oh yeah, the summer I graduated my dad hit my mom with the telephone reciever. Gave her a big bruise on her temple. I had already taken off for my uncle's at the start of the fight because I didn't feel like sticking around. We only came back because I was scared he'd kill her. We get back and she stumbles off the porch and we get her in the car and take her to the police station. Took pictures of her bruise.
My dad tried to file for divorce then changed his mind. My mom basically made me sugar coat him on the witness stand so he'd get off light with community service instead of jail time. I started spending even more time on the computer. I didn't want to be around either of my parents because of the drama. I hardly had any local friends, I envied people who lived in better places that WEREN'T Ironton, Ohio.
Despite being graduated, my mother did not try to encourage me to "leave the nest." She didn't even try to push me to get a job or become independent in any way. She would have been content to have me live upstairs for the rest of my life. She was most definitely a "helicopter mom" - hovering over everything.
I had a few visits from some furry friends in nicer cities. Cincinnati, Cleveland, Columbus. My mom's opinion of "internet people" was that they're all serial killers.
When I had my first visit she asked him a whole bunch of questions. It was rather embarassing.
The same guy came back down again with some of his friends to take me to Anthrocon (2001). Told my mother it was "just an anime convention."
They all came to my house and we hung out, went to Jo Anne Fabrics so they could throw together some pretty terrible looking fursuits. Then we got in the guy's car and he drove us the 18 hours to Pittsburgh.
Got to the con and I was pretty overwhelmed. I'd hardly been anywhere outside of Ohio. There were so many people, so many suits. At one point my friends ended up ditching me to go into the "headless lounge" where the suiters go to cool off and they told me I couldn't go with them. I hung out by the piano feeling dejected. Along comes "Cal" ... A guy twice my age, not attractive in the slightest, but someone was being nice to me so I didn't care....
He started rubbing my shoulders out of nowhere, I felt creeped out but I was also lonely and felt like my friends left me, he bragged about being a trained masseuse and offered me a massage if I came up to his room with him.
I did and things went a direction they shouldn't have. It went from me getting a massage to him biting me and penetrating me... I went back to my friends' room at the con with bite marks and was promptly made fun of. Felt bad.
Despite this, when I got back home I still kept talking to the guy via his ICQ number. He wanted to keep seeing me.
He'd mail me little gifts, call me on the phone.
He even came to visit, which completely creeped out my mother since this was a 32 year old man visiting her, at the time, 20 year old son (who also still looked 16).
My mom got hold of his wallet to do background checks on him suspecting he's a pedo (she wasn't far off).
Still she didn't do anything to stop anything.
He came back again to take me and some much cuter "local" friends to King's Island. (Local being like, 45 min away in Charleston, West Virginia) I should have stayed and tried to pursue things with Villicent, the local furry who had a crush on me, lol.
But instead I'd eventually end up leaving with C. I wanted out of Ironton, badly. Enough to leave with a guy I wasn't even all that attracted to. I just wanted to get away.... Away from my parents, away from the fights, away from backwards racist homophobic redneck Ironton.
The day I was to get on a plane to leave with C to go to Washington state is also the day I learned from my mother that I had been on SSI for most of my life... The fact she never told me infuriated me. I used to skip lunches to save up my money thinking $20 was something big.
I used to go with her to donate plasma to try to save up just to afford going to the convention, and here I was getting a check I didn't even know about, that she was using... "For bills" she says... But between her cleaning house for old people and dad's SSI + junkyard job + reselling fixed up cars, there is no way we could have been that poor.
She was also taking diet pills like Adipex and Phen-Phen "for energy" she says... That makes me think "was she using my SSI on those pills?" It makes me angry because I could have been given a chance - after I turned 16, or 18 - to learn financial responsibility and manage my own finances. Instead I was kept in the dark and the only thing that forced her to tell me was me moving away.
And even then, when I moved there was a 4 month period where she was only sending me half of my check. What did she still need it for? The house was paid off.
Welp... On to C. (2002 to 2004)
He had me paying what he said was "half" of rent in a small converted basement room -- my part was 300 dollars, so his part also would have been 300 dollars... 600 for a room? - doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
He had me set up a joint account with him too, visa debit. Also a bad idea because it meant he had access to my money any time he felt like it.
When he got layed off from his job at Boeing, there was a good 6 month period where he had me paying rent for both of us, while he was drawing both Oregon and Washington unemployment checks.
He showed himself to be a schemer and abusive. He had me pretty brainwashed too. The "emotional drug dealer" talk... "I'm the only one that's going to take care of you and put up with you, everyone else hates you" kind of stuff.
I had friends I would meet at the furry meets and they'd try to save me or get me away from C but he always pulled me right back to him...
C was also a pederast. Very much the ephebopile. He would bring over underage furries from the meets and try to bend them to his will, usually with alcohol. Kids as young as 14 sometimes. If I said anything in protest it was usually ignored or he'd tell me to mind my own business.
I eventually told him I felt like he was too old for me. His reaction to this was to make a suicide threat. He had his dad's Colt 45 always sitting on the nightstand, he put it to his head like he was going to kill himself, I pleaded with him to stop. He then pointed the end of the gun to my temple and acted like he was going to shoot me instead... Click nothing happened. He had taken the bullets out.
He then laughs at me for being so gullible to think he'd kill himself over someone as worthless as me.
Why did I continue living with this person? Because I didn't want to go back to Ironton, Ohio.
I didn't want to go back to where I had no one. Hardly any local furries at all. In Washington there were so many and so close. None of that was back in Ironton.
C and I "broke up" but I still had to live there...
Eventually I ended up talking to someone in Lansing, Michigan (Loopy Foxtail) who wanted to bring me out there to visit and also go to Anthrocon again. I stayed at his place for maybe 4 months. All the while, C still had access to my money and was taking out my part of rent, me being under the impression that I'd still have somewhere to come back to after the visit was over (why did I still want to go back?).
C actually moved someone else in and was charging them rent while still taking out my part using the joint access... He called me and bragged about it. I felt hurt and like there was nothing I could do about it, when really I should have reported him to SSA for abusing his position as my payee and stealing from me.
I visited my parents, they tried to convince me to stay in Ironton but I wouldn't. I knew I'd hate it there.
I went back to Lansing and stayed with the two furries I knew there for a little while longer, then got in contact with a couple in Bellevue, Washington and made my plans to go back, despite Loopy wanting me to stay.
I rode the Greyhound back again, to go live with "Qba" and "Grazel" in Bellevue. (2004 to 2006).
Q was pretty cool. He liked collecting ROMs and emulators for old video game systems, so we definitely had common ground, also the same sarcastic humor. G was more of an MMO person and also quite a bit older than Q.
Qba and I spent more time together than he did with his "husband" (they got married in Portland before the whole thing where gay marriage in Oregon got reversed). G spent nearly all of his free time playing World of Warcraft.
Times were good, at least with Qba and I. We'd hang out, play old games, watch shows. But for whatever reason I wasn't satisfied with who I had around me so I did what I always did and got addicted to ICQ and other messenger programs talking to people. At least there was Pounced (furry personals site) that I could use to look for potential friends / boyfriends, but the person I got along with best was already there in the same apartment with me.
Despite this, I still searched and dated.
My mom kept in contact via phone, informed me that my dad had filled for a divorce to flex his control over her. She asked what she should do and I told her "give him what he wants."
Q introduced me to the world of Second Life and I started spending all of my time on it and so did he. It was an escape, a Virtual World where you can run around a giant sandbox and do whatever. Very addictive. Someday I bet something like this will ensnare everyone... It will be as bad as any drug.
Through Second Life, I bumped into Grue, who was another local Washington furry. Struck up a relationship way way way too quickly. We also got in a car accident trying to go to a Teriyaki restaurant. A delivery driver hit his car and spun us in circles, broke the rear axel. It was his first day out driving.
His uncle got us in contact with a lawyer, supposedly would come into some money since it was the other guy's fault.
Grue was getting kicked out of his parents' place so I let him move in, this was a mistake as he monopolized my space and would go into emo fits and lock himself in my room. He wouldn't explain what was wrong either. "If you don't know what's wrong I'm not going to tell you."
We got in a fight and unfortunately I was the one who was made to leave. I ended up moving into another house nearby with some friends, Steel and Draco. They were pretty bad hoarders, didn't really clean on a regular basis.
My grandfather died and my mom wanted me to come back to Ohio under the pretense of attending the funeral. Nah, she just wanted me back in Ironton again. And the only reason I even agreed to go back was because I knew a black furry in Cincinnati through Second Life who I wanted to see.
(2006)
I get on the plane to go back to stupid frigging Ironton.
I still remember the first thing my mother said to me when she picked me up when I got back and told her about wanting to see Kisach: "I don't think it's right for the races to mix." I replied to that with "well, thanks for reminding me why I hate everyone in Ironton."
I get back, my mom converts everything of mine back to Ohio, assuming I'm going to stay there with her indefinitely. Ironton is much too boring and depressing for me to handle, when you spend most of your life in a horrible redneck small town, then go to much nicer places, then come back... It's like you remember all the reasons you hate the small town and why you miss the much nicer cities you lived in.
The ray of light of course was getting to have Kisach come down to visit. He brought his PS2 and some games and we hooked that up to my mom's big rear projection TV. We had fun and got pretty close but we didn't fool around... I did kiss him rather shyly.
We went back to Cincinnati to visit too. Stayed at his dad's for a while, went to the Cincinnati Mall. It was nice up there. Kisach really wanted us to get a place together, and I should have. Instead, I drove my mother nuts constantly bitching about how much I despise Ironton and she had me set up to go back to Washington... to go live with a guy in Tacoma who I knew before I left. I should have stayed, I should have waited for Kisach and not abandoned him.
I should have stayed. I called Kisach from the motel my mom and I spent the night at and cried my eyes out, told him I wouldn't forget him, that I'd try to come back for him. Ugh. I should have just not left at all and toughed things out.
Got to Tacoma, lived with someone I'll call "R" ... R was okay, if just a bit hard to figure out. R collected shotacon, cub furry art and some.... other things. The situation eventually changed and R planned on moving to Tennessee to start a power washing business. I didn't want to go with, I dunno why. Too attached to Washington, I guess.
Got back into contact with "C" again and got a ride down to Vancouver, WA to stay with Bengalix. That was.... interesting. I lived with Bengalix in a very filthy apartment with him and two very crazy people (a straight couple with domestic problems that were worse than my own parents) I didn't know this at the time but Bengalix and the two other people were doing meth... Something I'm just not into.
I wound up leaving that situation pretty quickly. I also kinda tattled to the apartment complex management about the meth use and the fact the straight couple had their kids around that environment.
Left that and wound up living with Purrcival in Portland, Oregon. It was a cramped tiny studio apartment across from what was PGE Park. Portland was nice, you could bus everywhere, take the Max line anywhere. Could walk to Pioneer Courthouse Square, which was the big hangout center. Lots of food carts. I loved Portland.
During my stay at that apartment I decided on a random whim of memory to call up the number for the lawyer of my case from the accident I was in with Grue back in Bellevue. I wasn't even expecting anything, but I was to come into some money from the accident. Wouldn't-cha know, "C" would come back into my life to swoop in and take advantage.
He convinced me to let him handle the 4300 dollar accident settlement I'd be getting. Convinced me to let him use half of it to get a house in Beaverton and he'd pay me back. This of course was a sham. He got the house but he took the entirety of the money, saying the landlady wanted it all up front. I let the same person who always used me and scammed me do it yet again.
I was even being charged 400 for a room in a house that my settlement money helped him to get with no real plans on when I would be payed back.
I stayed there for quite a while. Eventually got woken up by my friend "S" about just how badly I got conned. Even though I was pissed about getting used again, I did enjoy living in the area. I liked being able to see other furries. I had a lot of good friends and good encounters.
(2007)
Eventually I met someone and moved again, I'll call him JV. I moved with him in his trailer in Clackamas. The relationship didn't last long as he was really addicted to MMO games like G and I really just don't like those at all. We got in a situation where he'd play his MMO's and I'd be chatting to people on Second Life or something because I felt lonely.
Probably same as how Q must have felt with G.
I was looking for outside attention a lot. Pounced, Aim, Yahoo, ICQ. Got on Myspace. Bumped into the guy I had a crush on in highschool but hadn't been courageous enough to talk to. He said I should have said something to him.... sigh
My dad also got in contact with me over myspace, I had not communicated with him for probably 8 years. He sent me a sort of apology gift in the form of DVDs of Knight Rider and various 80s movies we both liked. Initially I was scared he'd try mailing me some kind of bomb or something crazy.
While being on myspace I found out my favorite band would be coming to Portland - Dir en grey, a Japanese metal band I had loved since finding their music in 2003.
I went into full obsessed autistic weeaboo mode and took it upon myself to make fliers at the library with their copying machine and do promo by handing those out to random people or anyone who looked weeaboo enough.
Went to the concert and had a fantastic time.
JV and I grew more and more distant. I started sleeping on the couch that doubled as my computer chair. I developed what I believe was a torsion in my left testicle. JV took me to the ER to get looked at, they assumed it was epididimitis caused by an infection and shot me full of antibiotics (Rocephin / Ceftriaxone) was instructed to take a COLD bath, but by the time I got home I forgot this instruction.
I took a hot bath instead and my left testicle and scrotum expanded. I didn't go back to the ER even though I should have. It's possible I had an allergic reaction. Didn't think a whole lot of it since I could still masturbate without much issue. Should have gone back to ER and told them.
JV and I officially broke up and he expressed desire to have me out in 6 months.
Met someone I'll call JD via Pounced who lived pretty far out, but was willing to travel to be closer. I explained my situation and we made plans to save up and move together .
JD was probably the nicest person I would ever know, someone who truly loved me and cared for me. I didn't find this out until later, but JD actually left home on a "Wave" bus from Tillamook to Portland and slept on a park bench just so he could get closer to me. He met some other furries in the area by Sunset Transit Center by total random chance and he moved into their spare room. I finally could go visit him.
He got a temporary job doing canvassing for HRC.
Later he moved in with his friends he knew from Highschool when they got an apartment in Milwaukee, Oregon. He went from having a bed and a room to sleeping in a recliner. But he did it to be closer to me, so we could be together.
(2008)
I saved up close to 600 dollars and we pooled our money and got an apartment across from the Clackamas Mall. It was a tiny Studio apartment but fairly nice. Had a fireplace, a sectioned off "bed area" and "living area" - nice little place. Cheap at the time. We survived on just my SSI and my EBT. Amazing that we did that.
We found a sweet little kitten by the laundry facilities. Decided to keep him. Cute little grey and white kitty, mean and bitey as all hell.
I was happy even if we were struggling. I had JD, I had my computer and a nice CRT TV with all my emulators. Life was pleasant. But for whatever reason I still felt compelled to keep seeking out other furries when I didn't need to. I shouldn't have wanted anything else than what I had.
I had a good relationship with a good person. I screwed it up pretty badly. I couldn't stop being a damn internet addicted hoebag. He'd try to get random jobs to try and support us so I wouldn't have to cover everything, and I just used that time alone to slut it up online. Surprisingly he was forgiving, even though he shouldn't have been.
He eventually got on SSI himself with the help of a disability lawyer. At least then we didn't have to scrape by so much, we could each cover things pretty equally.
Despite how much he loved me I was still a bad person. I didn't appreciate who or what I had.
We moved out of our studio apartment and into a bigger 2 bedroom in the same complex with one of JD's friends who he knew since they were kids. I had everything I could want in that apartment. But I still didn't appreciate it.
JD started going to community college, begged me to start going with him because he felt scared and alone going by himself. I wouldn't listen and would just stay home, playing my old games, chat RP-ing with strangers.
(2010)
My dad got really unexpectedly ill. He had Creutzfeldt Jakob disease. He collapsed and had to be taken to the hospital. Nobody knew what was wrong with him (until after the autopsy). He eventually died. I felt terrible because he had tried really hard to reach out to me and keep in contact and I didn't keep up my end by calling him, I just waited for him to call me most of the time. CJD is also hereditary... So there's a high probability I'll develop it too.
Despite all the crazy domestic violence crap he put me and my mother through, I was heartbroken. I wouldn't get up from bed. I just layed under my blanket going over scenarios of how I could have prevented his accident, but I couldn't have.
Simple things like watching an episode of Doctor Who (the episode where Rose stops her dad from dying) would put me in crying fits.
JD took me too Multnomah County animal shelter and we got a dog, a corgi. It was to try and bring me out of my depression by trying to give me something to care for.
.......
We eventually moved from the place we were in and got into a different apartment with some room mates. JD was really sad to leave his friend behind as he didn't really want to.
Things with the other room mates were "ok" for a while, but they kept getting involved in mine and JD's disputes when they really shouldn't have. They kept trying to split us up, get me to move out. JD didn't want me to move, but he did use that kind of talking as a threat to get me to do what he wanted (like go to community college with him). It's the kind of thing I don't respond well to because I take it too seriously.
We had a "temporary hiatus" where I had to sleep in the livingroom. The room mates took this as their chance to keep pushing the idea that I'd have to move.
JD didn't really want that at all. He didn't want me to move. But since I felt like it was what everyone wanted and because I felt like JD and I were finished, I started pursuing another relationship and person I thought I'd move out with.
"K" was, ironically, someone JD brought over for my benefit to try and make me happy, instead we ended up dating. I dunno if I did it because I was mad about having to move or thinking he'd be an outlet or what. He reminded me a lot of myself, pretty helpless. I thought maybe if I could help him then in a way I could help myself. Maybe having someone to take care of would push me to have to do what needed to be done to become functional.
Poor guy had everything going against him. Parents didn't have any of his necessary documents like birth certificate and stuff, he lived in a converted two room shed behind a very gross hoarded house. I tried to help him get on the process to get SSI but it was pretty useless since he had none of the documents that would have been needed.
The relationship didn't last very long, maybe 6 months.
JD called me when I was over there at K's for a couple of days begging me to come back home and of course I did. JD gave me a stipulation, again with the ultimatums but this one actually had an option to go with it: Get on financial aid to go to community college with him + get back on anti-depressants -- or move. And since I didn't want to move, I took part one.
(2011)
Started attending community college with JD, it was actually really fun despite how afraid I was in the beginning. I got on the school paper with him and eventually snagged the position of Copy Editor, which I excelled at because I'm great at scanning text for mistakes with my eyes.
We still had occasional fights, it seemed unavoidable. One time we were trying to go meet up with a friend we knew from school and JD had me hold his phone to read directions for him. The friend called and I didn't know how to answer it because I assumed it worked like a normal button. I had no idea you were supposed to slide it a specific way to answer. He got mad at me and yelled "You're so useless, I may as well send you on a plane back to Ironton!" Hearing that hurt. I got angry, made him stop the car and I got out and threw the fidget ring he got me on the ground.
Had other roommate (M) pick me up and eventually JD and I did make up after both of us calming down.
We continued going to community college. JD graduated before I did (2013) because he started going a year before me. When I started having to go by myself, I felt a change. I missed going to classes with JD. I missed riding to school in the morning with him, getting food, being there together - riding back home together. Listening to audiobooks together.
I still went, but it didn't feel the same as before. I had to bus there on my own and JD wasn't with me, he was back home. I had late night classes and getting home after them was very rough because of the nearly 2 hour long bus rides.
My sleep pattern was already hard to maintain and getting home at 1am didn't make it any easier. By the time I'd get home JD would already be asleep.
If I didn't immediately go to sleep I'd end up staying up all night on the computer and ruining my sleep pattern again.
Even when it wasn't chatting to people I'd just stay up reading Wikipedia or doing some other pointless activity. I didn't realize it at the time but the internet was an addiction for me. I couldn't tear myself away from it. Once I got a smartphone that addiction became even worse because now I had constant connection in my hand 24/7. I honestly hate the fact smartphones even exist and that I got one. Up until the start of 2014, I had an old flip phone.
I'd be on the smartphone on the ride to and from school, on my alternate Facebook account (I kept my furry stuff separated from my main account). Eventually my alternate account got locked under Facebook's Real Name policy. I was annoyed because I could no longer access that account.
But why did I even need all these external connections? Why did I need to be chatting to people I couldn't even touch when I had a bf sitting in the room with me?
The nature of the internet.... Is numerous artificial connections. You make so many and connection loses meaning because you can always find someone who likes what you like, but is so far away so you just feel sad.
I guess maybe I was feeling alone because I felt like my interests, fetishes, hobbies and other stuff weren't shared or approved of so I was seeking out that approval and for others to legitimize things I liked. Maybe he felt the same way, as he had a lot of games and shows he liked that I lacked the attention span for. I just don't do MMO games, doesn't interest me much.
I would rather keep playing the same emulated games I collected over the years than spend time on an MMO. Emulation was pretty much the only thing I played except for rare occasions when we'd find something we both liked.
I lost my copy editor position at school as you can only have a specific position for so long. I had to switch to another position and it was website editor which I was terrible at.
My time at school started to feel less fun. I spent more and more time online, to the point I was missing days of class because I couldn't get up the next day.
JD demanded that I get back on anti-depressants, as he reminded me that this was the other half of his stipulation, and going to school was only one part. I set up an appointment with my therapist but I ended up missing it. What happened was that I had been up late as usual, even though I knew I had an appointment... by the time I got into bed behind JD there wasn't much space. At some point in my sleep I wound up laying across him diagonally which was uncomfortable for him and he woke up rather angry.
Instead of doing the logical thing and fixing my position on the bed, I just left for the couch in the living room and slept there. I didn't think to set an alarm to wake myself up. I woke up realizing I had missed my appointment, and instead of taking the responsibility for it, I tried to blame JD. That was addmitedly unfair. Naturally he got upset. "S" our other room mate stepped in to take the opportunity to yet again push the "I think you should move" agenda same as before I started going to school, and JD bought it and said "yeah, maybe you SHOULD move!" and that just opened the flood gates on my anger. I said things in response that I didn't mean just because I was angry that he would tell me to move.
And he didn't actually mean what he was saying about wanting me to move, he just wanted me to alter my behavior and the only way he knew how to do that was by frightening me with scare tactics. He thought by scaring me with the impending fear of having to move I would change, open up, tell him what's bothering me. That's not how my emotions work, when someone tells me to move I take that serious... and to outside observers it doesn't look like "I'm just doing this to scare him, I don't actually mean it."
To S, it was like "Oh good, I finally win. Now they'll separate."
I shouldn't have fucking listened. I should have just taken off, put on earbuds and went on a walk to calm down. Instead, because I felt hurt I felt the need to say something hurtful back, even if I didn't really mean it. I told JD that I wasn't happy in our relationship and that I wished I had stayed with K instead of coming back to him. This hurt JD more than anything... Probably more than being told to move hurt me.
He said "God damnit, Chris. I would have spent the rest of my life with you" hitting his knee with his fist and falling to the ground crying. I didn't expect this. He told me to move. I thought that meant that was it. Over. I don't like you. That's what those words meant to me. "I hate you, get out."
But he didn't mean any of it. It was S influencing us both. To JD it was a tool to get me to "shape up" but to me, you don't tell me to move unless you mean it.
The next day while I was at school he was sending me Facebook messages. Saying that he was up at his dad's and feeling alone. Feeling scared he was going to die alone. That he missed me and wished I was there with him on the coast. The coast was where we always went to wind down.
But I didn't see a "I don't want you to move" or a "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." Our conversation continued and I was just flat out resistant, still upset, heart still hardened from anger.
JD decided he would sleep out in the living room like I did the first time we broke up. I monopolized the bedroom and spent even more time online, talking to my stupid little internet friends. Months passed by. I forgot Christmas. Normally we'd put up a tree in the living room. That space was taken up by a tent made of fabric stick pinned to the cieling.
Poor JD slept alone on a crappy futon mattress with a foam cover while I got the bed. I would hardly talk to him sometimes. I spent more time talking to the guy in China who I met off Furgather than I did talking to JD. Occasionally we would watch a show together... Gotham. American Horror Story, An Idiot Abroad. A movie here and there.
He tried to get me involved in a Let's Play thing he was setting up with the other room mates but I was too busy hiding away in the bedroom. He told me of his plans to move and that I'd need to find replacement room mates. He begged me "don't move in some random furries, you think you'll get along because of that but you won't. Go on Craigslist or something, find normal people to live with."
He was right but I wouldn't listen. I wound up going on a Facebook group for the local furry community and posting an alert and of course I got two crazy people. H and D.
H seemed okay through talking online, but then so does everyone. It's only when you live with people that you find out what they're actually like. H used the fact she makes fursuits (full body mascot costumes based on a buyer's fursona) as a selling point for herself as a room mate. Of course I did not know this was her only source of income, as she had no job, no SSI and D was her only support.
D was the stereotypical emo kid, oh look how angsty and dark I am. He worked a security job so he was slightly higher on the totem pole than H, but he was immature as hell. The both of them were, but I didn't realize this until after JD left and I had to deal with them alone.
For the first couple of months or so, I was doing good. I was focusing on making music and building on the abilities I had learned in my electronic music classes. I was collecting gear. Making things like a neat padded microphone box, and yeah I was trying to find another relationship and I had a guy I was talking to that I liked, but eventually JD became part of my life again and I spent all my time obsessing about him. Obsessing on this idea that we'd find a place and move back in together, which in many chats he also went along with. I wrote off everyone to try and meet the standards of a person I was not even in a relationship with, nor would I ever be again. And this is why every time I'd have an ex, I'd just completely break off from them, but this I couldn't. Ugh.
I should have just deleted my Facebook, purged my phone and never talked to JD again. I should have focused on any of the good friends / potential relationship interests I had who I could be fully open about my kinks with who didn't make fun of me and make me feel like I had to hide aspects of myself. Instead I go visit JD at his new house, I visit with the dog and cat. Getting my heart filled back up with memories. Getting close again when I shouldn't. And eventually he has to move into a different place but can't take the animals... He gives them back to me and they're reminders of our life together. He shouldn't have done that, they should have stayed with him, but his "friend" who bought the house wouldn't let him keep them. Also, I didn't find out until much later after a conversation with a mutual friend that, once the dog was back with me, H and D would enter my room when I was not there to do sexual things with him. Finding that out really hurt a lot.
(Continued).
submitted by Effigy_Jones to lifeinapost [link] [comments]

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