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Race Information

• Name: LA Marathon
• Date: March 19, 2023
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: Los Angeles, CA
• Time: 2:57:49

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Sub 2:50	No
B	Sub 2:55	No
C	Sub 3:00	Yes
D	Finish	Yes

Splits

Mile	Time	Elevation
1	6:14	-69 ft
2	6:11	-112 ft
3	6:25	-7 ft
4	6:28	-30 ft
5	6:44	49 ft
6	6:40	52 ft
7	6:28	-23 ft
8	6:32	-20 ft
9	6:39	39 ft
10	6:28	-26 ft
11	6:26	-13 ft
12	6:34	-39 ft
13	6:42	26 ft
14	6:45	30 ft
15	6:22	-157 ft
16	6:20	-39 ft
17	6:41	62 ft
18	6:39	7 ft
19	6:53	-16 ft
20	7:14	-7 ft
21	7:15	66 ft
22	7:02	3 ft
23	7:05	0 ft
24	6:58	-10 ft
25	6:53	-69 ft
26	7:30	3 ft
".2"	3:40	30 ft

Background / Training

I previously wrote about achieving my "lifetime" goal of a sub-5 mile at 38 years old in August of last year here: https://www.reddit.com/AdvancedRunning/comments/x2kr9h/sub5_mile_at_38_years_old/ TLDR: I went from 235 lbs to 170 lbs and sub-5 mile for the first time in my life in under 24 months.
I then managed to run 1:24:43 for the half in October, which gave me enough success that I thought I could train to run a good marathon. Since I had relatively little endurance training leading into that point and five months to build up, I thought I could set myself the goal of running around 2:50 for the LA Marathon (my first).
I'd like to say I followed a plan; I did sketch out my own adapted version of Pfitz before injuries had me pull back to just two quality days a week (when I could handle). Mostly one day of threshold work and adding quality and distance to my long runs over my previous training. I have my full training logs here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1yFPYbbbQ4VsOCfgINh_7qHSQ43M4LeefCXnPlyGruKM/edit?usp=sharing

Pre-race

Nutrition has come relatively easily to me on the run, and I have taken down plenty of gels without GI issues in training. I brought two 8-ounce soft flasks with a scoop of tailwind each and 8 gels (6 maurtens, and 2 caffeinated SIS since I don't like the maurten caf) to the starting line.
I was also dealing with a minor back injury for the previous two weeks, but it had felt fine on all of my runs, and I could do faster pace reps without any issues.
I was not hard-committed to 2:50 for the race and thought I could always back off a tiny bit and finish low 2:50s in the worst case.

Race

I had coordinated with someone I met through running to hopefully work together for the first half. However, we had never previously run together, and we handled the hills differently, and he pulled away from me fairly early.
Strangely, about 10 miles in, I was starting to feel soreness in my glutes. This surprised me as I had never felt soreness there in any of my training, even my hillier runs. Typically after long runs, I would feel it in my calves and, occasionally, on very hilly runs, in my quads. I was definitely feeling some discomfort in my legs, but it felt tolerable and still felt reasonably fresh overall. At about mile 15 on the steeper downhill section, I did feel like I had to hold something back and wished I could have gone even more slowly downhill, but I felt like I was braking quite a bit as it was. By mile 19 my legs were feeling rough, and even though my heart and lungs were still feeling great (my HR dropped by almost 20 bpm from peak), I was hurting. I repeatedly tried to pick the pace back up, but the problem felt entirely in my quads and glutes.
For the last 8 miles, I slowed substantially. While I did pass a few runners who had completely overcooked (some of who I tried to wave for medical attention), I was mostly getting net-passed. The good news was that other than my legs, I felt pretty good, so I tried my best to enjoy myself for the rest of the race giving lots of high fives and cheering along with the crowds. I made one last attempt to speed up when getting passed by a friend in the last mile, but my cardiovascular system wasn't what was limiting me, so it did absolutely nothing.

Post-race

I was disappointed at first, even though objectively, the result was pretty good. 30 months ago, I was 235 pounds, and 18 months prior, I hadn't started running. However, I still thought my goal was realistic (maybe it was on a flatter course??), so it took a few days to get over.
Also, the first three days post-race, my legs were in so much pain I thought I might have injured myself. Fortunately, I'm feeling much better, so I tried to feel good about how hard I must have pushed myself.
I had originally planned CIM as my next race, and I'm still considering it, but giving myself some time to decide. As for now, I'm looking forward to finishing my recovery and getting back to training for some shorter races, hoping to break 17 for 5k and 36 for 10k later this year and keep trying to find out how fast I can get.
​
Made with a new race report generator created by herumph.

Philadelphia 76ers (49-23) @ Golden State Warriors (38-36)

• Game Time: March 24, 2023 @ 10:00 PM EDT
• Venue: Chase Center - San Francisco, CA
• NBA Game Summary / Charts

Game Status - Final: Warriors Win 120-112

Linescore

	1	2	3	4		TOTAL
76ers	27	26	35	5		93
Warriors	23	32	24	7		86

Inactives

76ers	Warriors
James Harden	Ryan Rollins
Jalen McDaniels	Patrick Baldwin Jr.
Mac McClung	Gary Payton II
Louis King	Andre Iguodala
	Ty Jerome
	Andrew Wiggins

Game Stats

Team	PTS	FG	3P	FT	REB (O+D)	AST	PF	STL	TO	BLK
76ers	112	38/78 (48.7%)	8/29 (27.6%)	28/34 (82.4%)	4+34	23	20	8	10	1
Warriors	120	42/88 (47.7%)	18/50 (36%)	18/24 (75%)	10+39	27	21	3	11	0

76ers	MIN	PTS	FG	3P	FT	REB (O+D)	AST	STL	BLK	TO	PF	+/-
SF Tobias Harris	37:49	23	10/12 (83.3%)	1/1 (100%)	2/3 (66.7%)	0+6	3	0	0	0	0	1.0
PF P.J. Tucker	25:15	0	0/5 (0%)	0/5 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	0+2	1	2	0	1	3	-11.0
C Joel Embiid	37:48	46	13/23 (56.5%)	1/5 (20%)	19/22 (86.4%)	1+8	8	2	1	3	2	13.0
SG De'Anthony Melton	35:22	8	3/9 (33.3%)	0/4 (0%)	2/2 (100%)	1+5	2	3	0	1	4	-15.0
PG Tyrese Maxey	39:57	21	7/16 (43.8%)	4/8 (50%)	3/3 (100%)	0+4	5	1	0	1	4	-13.0
Shake Milton	23:22	5	2/5 (40%)	1/2 (50%)	0/0 (0%)	0+3	4	0	0	1	3	5.0
Georges Niang	29:04	5	1/4 (25%)	1/4 (25%)	2/2 (100%)	0+3	0	0	0	2	2	-10.0
Furkan Korkmaz	05:27	2	1/1 (100%)	0/0 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	0+1	0	0	0	0	1	6.0
Paul Reed	05:36	2	1/2 (50%)	0/0 (0%)	0/2 (0%)	2+2	0	0	0	1	1	-13.0
Jaden Springer	00:15	0	0/1 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	0+0	0	0	0	0	0	-3.0

Warriors	MIN	PTS	FG	3P	FT	REB (O+D)	AST	STL	BLK	TO	PF	+/-
SF Donte DiVincenzo	18:59	0	0/2 (0%)	0/2 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	1+2	0	0	0	1	3	-4.0
PF Draymond Green	34:37	10	5/11 (45.5%)	0/5 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	1+6	10	1	0	5	3	15.0
C Kevon Looney	30:16	6	3/3 (100%)	0/0 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	3+7	7	1	0	0	5	4.0
SG Klay Thompson	36:12	21	7/17 (41.2%)	6/13 (46.2%)	1/2 (50%)	0+6	2	0	0	2	1	0.0
PG Stephen Curry	38:26	29	10/18 (55.6%)	2/7 (28.6%)	7/8 (87.5%)	0+8	3	0	0	2	2	20.0
Jonathan Kuminga	15:54	4	1/7 (14.3%)	1/5 (20%)	1/4 (25%)	2+0	2	0	0	0	3	-14.0
Jordan Poole	32:16	33	10/19 (52.6%)	6/11 (54.5%)	7/8 (87.5%)	0+3	3	0	0	1	0	13.0
JaMychal Green	13:31	12	4/5 (80%)	2/3 (66.7%)	2/2 (100%)	3+3	0	1	0	0	1	4.0
Anthony Lamb	11:34	2	1/4 (25%)	0/2 (0%)	0/0 (0%)	0+1	0	0	0	0	1	-4.0
Moses Moody	08:12	3	1/2 (50%)	1/2 (50%)	0/0 (0%)	0+3	0	0	0	0	2	6.0

Eastern Conference Standings

Rank	Team	W	L	Pct	GB	Conf	Home	Away	L10	Strk
1	Milwaukee Bucks	53	20	0.726	-	30-15	30-7	23-13	8-2	W 3
2	Boston Celtics	51	23	0.689	2.5	30-16	27-9	24-14	6-4	W 2
3	Philadelphia 76ers	49	23	0.681	3.5	30-16	26-11	23-12	9-1	W 1
4	Cleveland Cavaliers	47	28	0.627	7.0	31-15	29-8	18-20	8-2	W 3
5	New York Knicks	42	33	0.56	12.0	28-19	20-17	22-16	4-6	L 3
6	Miami Heat	40	34	0.541	13.5	21-24	25-13	15-21	7-3	W 2
7	Brooklyn Nets	39	34	0.534	14.0	26-20	19-16	20-18	4-6	L 5
8	Atlanta Hawks	36	37	0.493	17.0	22-23	20-15	16-22	4-6	L 1

League Scoreboard

Away	Score	Home	Status
Indiana Pacers	95-120	Boston Celtics	Final
San Antonio Spurs	124-136	Washington Wizards	Final
Detroit Pistons	97-118	Toronto Raptors	Final
Houston Rockets	114-151	Memphis Grizzlies	Final
Charlotte Hornets	117-109	Dallas Mavericks	Final
Milwaukee Bucks	144-116	Utah Jazz	Final
Chicago Bulls	124-96	Portland Trail Blazers	Final
Phoenix Suns	123-128	Sacramento Kings	4th Qtr
Oklahoma City Thunder	97-100	Los Angeles Lakers	4th Qtr

Next 76ers Game

Saturday, March 25, 10:00 PM EDT @ Phoenix Suns (1 day)
^{Posted: 03/25/2023 12:33:38 AM EDT}

I'm based in the north Los Angeles area and I'm looking to start flight school in about a year. (PPL all the way to CFI/CFII) and I was wondering if anyone had any good school recommendations?
I took a demo flight at Orbic Air in Burbank but was wondering if anyone recommends somewhere else. I heard about some good schools in Orange County but that may be a bit far for me to commute. Any suggestions?

Ahora con el leon envejecido muchos se imaginan a los primarcas envejecidos y otros temas y yo tenia una teoria y es que varios primarcas estaban destinados a mutar.
Veran esta casi confirmado que las almas de los primarcas son el alma de dioses disformes menores, esto hace que aparte de tener cuerpos super poderosos tambien pueden manipular la realidad de manera inconsciente ademas de tener poderes disformes estúpidamente obvios.
Yo creo que el destino de los primarcas con mas fallos eran mutar o cambiar radicalmente, el emperdor estaba consciente de esto y fue lo que mato a uno de los primarcas perdidos.
¿Como hubieran cambiado? pues los marines mas mutantes dan una buena imagen
LOS PERDIDOS
Estos son los angeles sangrientos que mueren por la rabia negra estos sucumben a una sed roja masiva y mutan convirtiéndose en seres abominables y estúpidamente poderosos, sus dientes se vuelven afilados al igual que sus garras.
Unas pocas docenas de estos tipos sin servoarmadura, sin coordinacion, sin armas. Lograron frenar en seco una orda de tiranidos.
RAPTORES
Los hijos mutantes de Corax debido a un saboteo esto creo aberraciones mitad cuervo mitad marine, al igual que los perdidos estos eran poderosos y parecian reconocer a los suyos, corax tuvo que matarlos a todos.
WULFEN
Los mismo que los 2 anteriores pero furro, algo interesante es que los wulfen son estúpidamente difíciles de corromper por el caos casi como si ya estuvieran fichados por un dios.
La semilla genetica cambia con el tiempo y las creencias al igual que el dios que habita dentro de los primarcas los que tenian marines inestables puede que estuvieran condenados a caer o cambiar.

One of the most exciting aspects of any new GTA game is the setting. Fans have been speculating about where GTA 6 could take place, and one popular theory is that it could be set outside the US.
While the GTA series has always been set in a fictional version of the United States, there are several reasons why Rockstar Games might consider setting GTA 6 in a new location. For one thing, the series has already explored several major American cities, from New York (Liberty City) to Los Angeles (Los Santos) and Miami (Vice City). It's possible that the developers are ready for a change of scenery.
Another reason why a non-US setting could work is that it would allow Rockstar to explore different cultures and lifestyles. For example, a GTA game set in Tokyo or London could provide a fresh perspective on crime and the underworld. It could also introduce new vehicles, weapons, and gameplay mechanics that are specific to those regions.
Of course, there are also some challenges to setting GTA 6 outside of the US. One major obstacle is that Rockstar would need to do a lot of research and work to create an accurate and believable version of a new city. They would need to get the details right in terms of the geography, landmarks, and culture. Additionally, some fans might be disappointed if the series moves away from its roots in America.
Overall, it's unclear whether GTA 6 will be set outside of the US or not. However, it's an intriguing possibility that could open up new possibilities for the series.
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If I book a flight from my hometown to Saigon and I have a domestic connection in Los Angeles, will I have to get my luggage at baggage claim and recheck it in at the International Terminal? Or will the airline take care of that and push it through for us? And would it make it a difference if I’ll be with the same airline on all legs of the flight?

Started buying goody bag supplies for my sons birthday, and remembered I kind of loathe goody bags conceptually. Why do we do this to ourselves and other parents? “It’s for the kids!” I know, I know. It’s all for you, Damien.
But I only had an hour to myself so I decided to make a “goody trough” instead. Like a slop bucket…or treasure chest at the dentist. The children can each pick out three things. It’ll be like Lord of the Flies and build character. I took a nap instead of stuffing 20 tiny bags with Gummy Crabby Patty’s and other festive horrors they love, and I stand behind that choice.
Except I forgot to get bags. I DO however have doggy poo bags. Perfect. They can decorate them and everything.
“But what will the other parents think!?” I genuinely don’t care. There’s a bounce house, food, wine, piñata, blow up dinosaur suits -child and adult sized, if you don’t wanna get weird with us that’s on you. And If someone is unhappy after all that, and over a bag that’s gonna get thrown away (but maybe not now if they have pets or someone in diapers!) thats a personal problem. I am saving the planet over here.

Click on the link for more information and links to history.
https://www.facebook.com/mitchell.matsumura/posts/pfbid0rkEcvrQPziYZXxbneMKj7DqRUAtJju1vZJpnzaqqe6JiTRb8SN6Eg99bbseH8Ymnl
Greater Los Angeles JACL chapter presents Japanese American Support For African American Reparations
Free Virtual Program Sunday, April 16 @ 1pm
Assembly Bill 3121 was enacted on September 30, 2020 and establishes the Task Force to Study and Develop Reparation Proposals for African Americans. AB 3121 charges the California Department of Justice with providing administrative, technical, and legal assistance to the Task Force.
AB 3121 charges the Reparations Task Force with studying the institution of slavery and its lingering negative effects on living African Americans, including descendants of persons enslaved in the United States and on society. Additionally, the Task Force will recommend appropriate remedies of compensation, rehabilitation, and restitution for African Americans, with a special consideration for descendants of persons enslaved in the United States. By statute, the Task Force will issue a report to the Legislature by June 1, 2022, which will be available to the public.
Ron Wakabayashi, National Director of the Japanese American Citizens League in 1981 and former Regional Director with the U.S. Department of Justice, Community Relations Service will be presenting. The presentation is for the purpose of requesting endorsement of the AB 3121 mission. An endorsement campaign has been initiated to support broad community engagement with this issue.
For a Zoom link to the program, please RSVP to email: [email protected]

It was a beautiful day in the fall, and though being in the middle of nowhere in Ohio isn’t exactly my ideal setting for an assignment, it could have been worse. Opening my windows, listening to music, and getting a good whiff of country air is a nice contrast to being cooped up in cities like I’m used to. The sight of brown stalks of corn populating the miles of fields along the road was welcome, as was the cool and clean smell of the air. It’s a good thing these jobs don’t involve much interaction with people. Unfortunately, some level of interaction is inevitable.
​
On my way to this one, I got a speeding ticket from a cop at some little local department. Though I was, in fact, speeding, I got the feeling that he also didn’t so much like seeing a fed in his neck of the woods. The local police aren’t a fan of us, so I’ve come to learn. They tend to get suspicious of us, thinking we’re up to some top-secret mission behind their backs. I guess they would be right.
​
I kept driving down the gravel road until the navigation let me know my destination was coming up on the right. Turning down the radio as I approached, I glanced toward the empty fields and the woods that met them beyond. I then turned into the long dirt driveway leading to our civilians’ house and garage.
​
I rolled up and parked with my trunk facing the porch. Stepping out, I got another whiff of the fresh country air and looked at the area of operations that lay before me. I was surprised at the amount of land and space that I had at my disposal. Space is good for these jobs. Additionally, I was informed that there weren’t any neighbors close enough to worry about. I couldn’t have asked for a better setting.
​
After stretching and letting out a light sigh, I decided it was time to get to work. I pulled the keychain out of my pocket and unlocked the front door. It seemed like a nice enough place. It was certainly nothing worth complaining about given the conditions of houses I’ve faced in my previous assignments. I went back outside to my massive, government-issued vehicle and opened the trunk.
​
I pulled the first couple of duffel bags worth of equipment out and brought them inside. The kitchen was as good a place as any to set up. After making five or six trips of dragging heavy bags and boxes of my junk into the house, I went back outside to open the garage. Thank God we were able to catch this case early and the civilians were able to make it out in time. It also meant I got room in the garage to park this thing. All that remained in the truck was the large metallic box, but I wasn’t going to need that until later.
​
I shut the trunk and pulled my vehicle into the garage, closing it on my way out. I stepped back into the house where I changed from my suit to my gear. Wearing the suit all day annoys me but I suppose the higher-ups want us to look like good, “friendly” feds to the public. The public has no idea the kind of monsters we are.
​
I unpacked box after box of equipment and weapons. I loaded up my Glock 17 with its extended 30-round magazine just as I did with my standard .556 rifle. I checked the laser sights on both. All good. Next was my favorite, the.338 with the best scope you could ever ask for. It sure is nice having a virtually infinite budget. Perks of working for the US federal government I suppose. The final firearm I brought was my personal .357 magnum revolver that I kept holstered on my chest. I figure it’s never a bad idea to have one more gun, just in case. Maybe I should have brought more on this one. If things got too close, I always had my hunting knife. I sharpened it that morning before heading out.
​
The next few hours consisted of me going out into the woods near the house in various places and setting up dozens of my little cameras equipped with motion sensors. They were there to give me an idea of the location of anything that got brave enough to get close to the fields that surrounded the house, I would be able to know about anything that was coming to me. I didn’t take too much caution in setting them up. Things never get interesting until nightfall.
​
I returned to the house where I turned on my laptop and assured that all the cameras were connected and working. I could see every single one of them from there and would know if anything so much as moved. I then got situated on a chair by the kitchen table, where I opened the window and set up my .338 rifle to watch the fields with.
​
I suppose it would be worth mentioning why I’m out here, setting up fancy equipment in the woods and loading up an arsenal of guns while I’m alone in a farmhouse that isn’t mine. Let’s back it up.
​
March 1st, 2017, 3:33 am, Iowa
​
Dispatch gets a call from a local farmer. He claims to be looking at a figure standing still at the edge of a treeline on his property. The description given by the farmer was that of a man of average stature and build, clothed in a loose black or grey shirt and trousers and a large-brimmed hat.
​
The farmer tells dispatch that he had awoken abruptly roughly an hour earlier, unspecified as to why. He spotted the figure outside his kitchen window soon after. The figure had been standing near the edge of a row of trees. It was facing the house and hadn’t moved a muscle since the farmer noticed him. The farmer quickly retrieved his rifle and walked out onto his lawn, proceeding to brandish his firearm and tell the trespasser that this property was his and to leave immediately. The farmer, seeing that the man remained unthreatened by his warning and display of a firearm, retreaded back into his home to retrieve his phone and call 9-1-1 as he continued to watch the figure from his porch.
​
During this call, the farmer’s voice was noticeably nervous and frightened. The desperate tone and quivering speech continued to worsen as he went on explaining the situation to dispatch. Dispatch instructed the farmer to remain where he stood and not to approach the trespasser. Dispatch reassured the farmer that the police were on their way. A few quiet and uneventful minutes passed. Then, without warning, the farmer let out a horrified scream through the phone. The call was disconnected seconds later.
​
The police began their over 40-minute drive to the residence. Halfway to their arrival, multiple new calls were coming to dispatch from the farmer’s neighbors. They reported seeing a large stack of smoke coming from the farmer’s home, and the closest reported seeing the house on fire.
​
By the time police arrived, the house had burned to the ground. The fire department arrived shortly after but oddly enough, the fire had completely subsided. What remained was the charred crumbs of what was once a house. The firefighters that arrived on site were bewildered by how quickly the fire must have burned the house. There was no explanation they could fathom.
​
The police searched the nearby fields and woods for the farmer and alleged trespasser to no avail, however, their search was quickly called back upon the findings of the firefighters in the house. The man’s charred bones were found beneath the rubble but not as they should have been. It became clear after further investigation that the man’s limbs were ripped from his body before it was incinerated at an impossible speed. 4 .308 bullet casings were found where the porch of the house used to be. The rifle was found just outside of the house, unscathed despite its proximity to such a violent fire. Forensics confirmed that the rifle had fired these casings but the bullets themselves were never found.
​
This was the first, but far from the last.
​
October 28th, 2017, 11:07 pm, Montana
​
Dispatch gets a call from a rancher who spotted a woman in an old-fashioned black and white dress and wearing a linen cap. The rancher claimed the woman was standing amongst his cattle and not moving. The rancher expressed no panic or concern for his safety over the phone, but rather a concern for the woman in the field. The rancher also noted that his cattle kept their distance around the woman.
​
An ambulance arrived at 11:29. Paramedics found no trace of the alleged woman. They walked to the entrance of the rancher’s house and discovered his door to be unlocked and open. After calling for the rancher and getting no response, they stepped inside to be greeted by the corpse of the rancher, hanging from a noose in his stairwell. The man had no history of mental illness and none of his relatives or acquaintances had any reason to believe he was suicidal. Additionally, an autopsy report concluded that both arms were broken in multiple places as well as every finger as if they had been crumpled together by a great force. He could not have tied the noose himself.
​
November 29th, 2018, 2:06 am, Wisconsin
​
Dispatch gets a call from another farmer. He had spotted a woman in an old black and white dress and linen cap. The woman had been standing in the long driveway from the road to his house, lit by the lamp that covered it. She stood motionless in the cold, windy, and heavily snowing weather. The farmer and his wife were later found under a collapsed wall of their crumpled house with stones placed on top. They had been placed in a seemingly orderly fashion until there was enough weight to crush their bones.
​
This happens to be the first incident we have on record with photo evidence. A trail cam owned by the farmer and his wife a few acres away from the house caught a picture the night of the incident. It caught a picture of the woman exactly as the farmer had described. Black and white dress, white linen camp. It looked as though she had stepped through time from hundreds of years before and placed like a mannequin in front of the camera.
​
May 30th, 2019, Minnesota
​
September 3rd, 2019, Nebraska
​
January 4th, 2020, South Dakota
​
I could go on but the point is that these incidents have been happening more and more frequently and they aren’t stopping. We do know what they are, or at least what they’re supposed to represent to us.
​
Every single one of these “people” lived in North America during the witch trials. We don’t believe they were the ones who were executed. We believe they were the ones who made the accusations, the ones who got their neighbors killed, the ones who carried out the executions and now they’re back to kill again.
​
Luckily, my department picked up on these patterns early on and designated a team to deal with them. There are a few hundred of us. I am in the dark about what everyone does exactly. I haven’t met many but I do know that some find potential incidents, some investigate, some deal with the cover-up and handling the publicity, and then, of course, there are the ones you send in to eradicate the problem. That’s where I come in.
​
I am here to hunt them down, to put them back in their graves so it would seem. Sometimes I get here before they’ve claimed a victim, sometimes after. But their reign of terror comes to an end with me. They’ve never gotten away from me, and I have never failed an assignment. I didn’t plan on this night being any different.
​
A beep sounded from my laptop screen as an outline from one of the cameras lit up, indicating that the motion sensor detected movement. It had been quiet since I set it up, there was not even the slightest sign of wildlife. No deer, no squirrels, nothing. I leaned forward and intently examined the camera that had been triggered. There was nothing to see. Another sensor triggered. Again, the camera showed nothing. My eyes darted from camera to camera, looking for motion. Another camera triggered, though all that I caught sight of was a shaking tree branch. There was no wind today. Another. This time I saw it. A dog-looking figure darted across the camera in only a few frames, but I knew it was no dog.
​
I turned my attention from the cameras to the field in front of me, where the movement had come from. I got behind my rifle and looked down the scope to the treeline in the distance. My heart began to pound in my chest at an intense tempo.
​
I could feel the adrenaline kicking in while I scanned the edge of the field for movement. All that greeted me was the orange glint of the setting sun on the treeline and the tiny shadows of the little stumps of corn stalks in the otherwise empty field. It was silent. Not even a wind accompanied me this evening, though I can’t complain. It’s better for shooting.
​
For a few minutes, I continued to run my scope along the treeline, occasionally getting a peek with my own eyes. It was during one of these peeks when I noticed a color out of place, in between a couple of trees on the other side of the field—some sort of black-and-white spec that was there not a second before. I lowered my head down, back behind the scope, and centered it. As I steadied the scope, a man-like figure standing at the edge of the field came into focus.
​
It wore black, tattered rags of clothing that hung loosely on its rigid frame. It stood still, stiff as a board. Its eyes were fixed on something ahead of it. It took me a moment to realize it was focused on me. It didn’t move a muscle, not even blinking as it stared.
​
I came to my senses and prepared to do my job. I flipped the safety off of my rifle and centered my crosshairs on its chest. I began to breathe deeply, my finger on the trigger, ready to pull but I didn’t take the shot, not yet. I saw it start to move.
​
Even with the distance between us, my scope made the picture of this figure clear as day. The movement came from only one part of its body; its mouth. First, its crusty lips detached from one another and the mouth began to open. Steadily, it opened more, and more all the while the rest of its body and head remained fixed. Its jaw sank to what should have been all the more it could, but it didn’t stop. It fell further, dipping down below its chest, its skin like a stretched rubber band waiting to snap, though it didn’t, it kept stretching.
​
Still stiff as a board, the man-like thing remained with its eyes locked on me while its mouth sat open, impossibly wide. It stood still with its hanging jaw for a moment, a moment I shouldn’t have given it. Now I knew I had my target. I began to apply pressure to the trigger before I was stopped, shaken by a force.
​
A scream, like a choir of souls in despair being dragged off to hell, with the power of a thousand horns sounding the start of a medieval battle rung through the fields. Its volume caused flocks of birds in the nearby trees to fly away in a panic, its bass shuddered through my chest and left me too hypnotized to pull the trigger. I’ll never get used to hearing one of them scream.
​
“Here we go”
​
I muttered to myself, the only thought I could conjure from my brain at the moment.
​
Closing its mouth, it leaped forward and reached for the ground in front of it with its hands fixed like claws. As soon as they met the ground, the feet followed and planted themselves quickly so that it could boost itself forward once again. It had begun its terrible charge. All the while, its face remained fixed on me, rotting teeth exposed and clenched in rage. The speed at which it rushed across the empty field would make a deer running for its life look lazy in comparison, but I was the prey here.
​
Though my heart began to race at the sight of this abomination barreling toward me, this anomaly of hatred and hunger bound to flesh, I remained calm. I began to steady my breathing, taking control of each breath, in and out.
​
Inhale. Exhale.
​
Inhale. Exhale.
​
Inhale. Exhale.
​
Squeeze.
​
The crack of the shot rang out through the dimming sky and the field before me, my response to its enraged scream. I remained fixed on the target, observing the spatter of blood as it shot from its back. It began to scream again, this time rapidly and desperate in tone. I quickly moved the bolt and chambered the next round, accompanied by the soft ring of the brass bouncing on the floorboards under my chair.
​
Although I managed to land a clean shot to the chest, it didn’t do much. It kept running, keeping on at its same speed. Though now it changed its direction and was running adjacent to my position in the house. It was trying to flank me. It wanted to find a way around my line of sight. I couldn’t let it.
​
Again, I took control of my breathing. Slowly, I drifted my rifle on the bipod until the creature came back into view. Its limbs pounded at the ground with speed and power as it propelled itself across the field. I’ll never get used to seeing one run either.
​
Starting behind it, I continued to move the scope, just fast enough to begin gaining on him, just fast enough to let the crosshairs catch up. Inhale. Exhale. The crosshairs slowly began to overtake it. Inhale. Exhale. Squeeze.
​
I chambered the next round quickly. This shot brought him to the ground, but it didn’t keep him there. After a short tumble, it rose and began to run again, this time back towards the woods it came from. Inhale. Exhale. Squeeze.
​
The third shot grazed its back. Frustrated, I chambered another round and took aim, but it was far too late. Before I could even begin to line up my fourth shot, it had taken one final leap from the field back into the treeline it came from.
​
I let out a sigh and hung my head in disappointment. I knew what I had to do next but I sure as hell didn’t want to. The last flickers of sunlight shone through the open window and lit my .338 rifle as I reloaded the magazine. I sat and stared blankly at the screen in front of me, hoping a camera would pick up some sort of movement that could clue me into wherever it ran off to. Knowing my luck, I shouldn’t have expected it to.
​
After coming to terms with reality, I stood up and grabbed my .556, slinging it around my body and letting it hang in front of me. I aimed it down, looking through its sight and testing its laser again before checking the chamber. Good to go. Next, I adjusted the night vision set to my head before picking up my .338 and heading for the door. As I stepped outside, I let out another sigh, this one of stress. Hunting these things at night, on their own turf is never as fun, nor as easy as finishing them quickly from a distance but what choice did I have? I just wanted to get it over with.
​
I flipped down my goggles and switched them on, illuminating the dark field in green and white. I began my long walk across. It took me longer than expected. The speed of that monstrosity caused me to underestimate the size of the field. Each step I took was slow and quiet. I didn’t want the crunch of my feet meeting the dirt and remnants of corn stalks to disturb my hearing. If that thing made a noise, I needed to hear it. If only I could have quieted my incessant heavy, nervous breathing too.
​
I was not even halfway to the treeline when I reached the first pool of blood, where I had shot it for the second time, and it decided to retreat. Bits of flesh were scattered about the ground, but I didn’t care to stop and look. Instead, I focussed on the blood I could see that led back into the woods.
​
Any experienced hunter has had to track a deer or two. It can be very frustrating. The trail isn’t always so clear, and you never know how far it has gotten. In my case, I knew this thing was still alive, and it was angry.
​
I continued my walk, splitting my attention between the blood trail on the ground and the treeline in front of me, scanning for movement and listening. If I was lucky enough, it would have gotten bold and tried to take me down in the field. Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky. Silently, I followed the trail until it met the woods. I stopped walking and calmed myself.
​
I didn’t want to go past those damn trees, but there was no avoiding it. I had a job to do. I extended the bipod of my .338 and lowered it to the ground before raising the stock of my other rifle to my shoulder. I took a deep breath and resumed my walk, now even slower and more cautious. At least now my heavy breathing would be drowned out by the sound of snapping twigs beneath my feet.
​
Immediately upon entering the woods, I spotted the next sight of blood. It came from a tree branch, its leaves covered in the dripping crimson liquid. I walked up to observe, only to notice more blood on the branch above that one. And the next. I noticed the pattern and followed each branch up, one by one, each with its leaves covered in blood. Suddenly a mass moved on top of the tree next to the one I was looking up at.
​
I swung my rifle up, pointing above me at the top of the trees. The mass turned and into view came two glowing eyes, like white lights in my night vision. It opened its mouth again to let out another deafening scream but I raised my rifle and took aim. Its scream was cut short by a bang from my barrel and the thud of the rounds meeting flesh. I was only able to squeeze half a dozen rounds off before it leaped away, to the tops of the neighboring trees.
​
I kept shooting as it jumped from one tree to another, though within seconds it was out of my line of sight. I charged through the woods after it and watched it leap impossible distances, shaking trees so hard I thought some might snap. All the while I kept trying and failing, to line up a clean shot. The ones I did manage to squeeze off were either misses or ineffective.
​
Even at the full-on sprint that I managed to sustain for a good few minutes, I was barely able to keep up. I almost abandoned the chase entirely before I saw an opportunity. There was a clearing ahead. A trail. The distance across was far too wide for it to jump. It took a sharp right once it realized this and began jumping from tree to tree along the trail. I rushed into the opening before kneeling to line up a shot. I followed it with my sights, tracking the timing of each leap, and letting t it land and leap once more before it settled on a new tree. I shot off two more rounds as it braced to leap again.
​
They were perfectly placed and its body tumbled in the air and crashed violently to the ground. Having lined up my sight, I squeezed the trigger again to hear the absence of a gunshot, replaced by the click of the firing pin in the empty chamber. I screamed curses at myself as I quickly exchanged magazines. By the time I looked up, the body was already gone.
​
I got to my feet and continued down the trail at a jog-like pace with my rifle at the ready. I was beginning to get frustrated more than anything. I’ve put dozens of these things in the ground before, I didn’t understand why was I having such a hard time with this one. As I approached a curve in the trail, I slowed my pace and brought the stock of my rifle back to my shoulder. I approached the curve from the outside of the trail, trying to get a clear view of what was beyond when my head violently snapped to the left.
​
My vision went suddenly dark and it took me a few moments to realize that I wasn't dead, nor was I unconscious. Something hit my night vision goggles and knocked them clear off of my head, breaking the mount they sat on. My eyes were only beginning to adapt to the dark when another object came flying towards my head, narrowly missing as it whistled forcefully past my ear. It was a rock, around the size of a football. I couldn’t help but glance behind me in astonishment at the object that had nearly decapitated me before turning my attention back to what threw it.
​
Sure enough, there it was. Standing behind the trees at the corner of the path. I let my anger take control and began to fire rapidly at its torso. My disregard for accuracy hardly mattered at this range. Regrettably, it meant I was now closer than I would have liked and it began to charge. I landed shot after shot. Blood spurted from its back and painted the tree branches and leaves that it passed as it barreled toward me.
​
Again, my magazine went empty. Instead of bothering to reload a new one, I quickly drew my Glock and continued my rapid fire on the beast. It broke into the clearing and fell to all fours before it leaped forward and ran as it had done in the field. It closed the distance between us in seconds.
​
A hand clenched around my throat and I was lifted off of the ground like a feather. It kept running, past the edge of the clearing and carrying me into the woods. I continued to pepper it at point-blank range with my pistol. Between shots, I could hear its hysterical laughter directed at my futile efforts. Its face smiled with a look of sadistic insanity.
​
I continued shooting until my magazine went dry and I was stuck with an empty gun. With nothing else I could do, I began to beat its face with the empty pistol. This seemed to piss it off. It violently threw me through the air. I felt my body snap dozens of branches before I met the ground and rolled uncontrollably.
​
Recovering quickly, I grasped the rifle still slung around me and replaced the empty magazine with a new one. It was mere feet away from me when I started to fire. I got a few shots off before it grabbed my arm. This time I whipped the barrel of my rifle up, clubbing it hard across the face. It let out a short, irritated scream. I thrust my barrel at the top of its head, knocking it back as it emitted another angry grunt. It reached up with its left arm and tried to grab the barrel before half of its fingers were blown off by my next shot. It recoiled its arm in pain before swinging it back at me.
​
Upon contact, my rifle flew out of my hands and the sling came undone from my body as it was thrown far into the woods behind me. I attempted to retreat before he grabbed me with his right hand, and what remained of his left around my neck. Again, I was picked up and it carried me, this time only a short distance to a tree. My back cracked as I was slammed into the bark.
​
It looked up at me and smiled again.
​
“We killed our sinners, we brought justice to our land. We brought justice for God”
​
I ignored its foul speech, lifting an arm and hooking it across the face with a firm punch. It had no effect.
​
“You are all sinners, and you will die for your sins as they did”
​
Again, I struggled and pummeled its face with everything I could muster but it still did nothing.
​
“Now go and burn in the lake of fire”
​
It shouted, before laughing with a dozen sadistic voices all coming from its mouth.
​
It opened its mouth and its jaw was once again stretched to what should be an impossible level. It lowered me until I was level with it. It moved its open mouth toward my head, shaking with rage. Its teeth now inches from my face. Its breath, foul. With my left arm, I drew my knife, slashing it across the chest before plunging it into its neck. I hooked a punch with my right arm that finally caused it to stumble. It wound up its own punch and let it loose. I narrowly escaped, ducking out of the way before its fist met the tree and went right through, splitting it in half before the wood tumbled to the ground.
​
I took this opportunity to draw my .357. He recovered from its punch and faced me, pulling the knife from its neck and letting blood spurt and gush. It stared me down as it slowly approached, ready to deliver its finishing blow.
​
Its head was shaking now, harder than ever in anger, its mouth hung open to half its capacity where it showed its rows of rotting human teeth. I raised my revolver and attempted to steady my sights but I was too shaky. I quickly collected myself. Inhale. Exhale. The front sight became level with the rear. Squeeze.
​
The recoil caused the gun to rise enough for me to get a look at the damage. I clipped its mouth, in the corner of its jaw. It hung open, with one side detached completely. It wailed in pain as it gargled its blood and crumbled to the ground. I aimed again, cocking the hammer. Squeeze. With the second round, I detached its jaw completely.
​
“Let’s see you bite me now, fucker”
​
I painfully muttered with anger. It dropped my knife and was now laying flat on its back, breathing heavily. I approached, cocking the revolver again as I did. It reached out with its mangled hand but I kicked it away before placing my barrel to its skull. Squeeze. And then silence.
​
After dragging the body back to the field, I spent the next few hours retrieving my lost and damaged equipment, as well as tediously finding every one of my cameras. I then retrieved my vehicle and drove it to the edge of the field. There was just one more thing to do.
​
I opened my trunk and pulled out the metallic box. I don’t understand why they make these things so goddamn heavy. I opened it and placed the corpse inside before securing the extremely heavy-duty lock. Next was the hole. It wasn’t easy digging after I had been roughed up and tossed around by an undead religious maniac with superhuman strength, but at least this was the last thing I had to do.
​
I finished digging the hole, placed the metal casket inside, and covered it up. From there, I collected my equipment, packed it up, and took off. Supposedly there’s a cleanup crew that comes in after we’re done with these missions and destroys any bizarre evidence.
​
I suspect they take the body as well. Where do they take it? What do they do with it? I have no clue but I’ve been strictly reminded to not ask questions on the matter and to just stick to doing my job. Still, I always find myself wondering.
​
What I have even more questions about is why these things exist in the first place. What the hell is going on? Why them? Why now? Has this been going on for longer than I know? Am I being lied to? What happens next, in the future, if this keeps going on? It’s only been getting worse. They’ve only been popping up more and more frequently. When does it end? Does it end?
​
I have more questions than I do answers but what I can tell you is that this problem isn’t going away anytime soon. It’s only going to get worse. There are only going to be more of them, not less. The death toll will only continue to rise. People are going to find out sooner or later. It might as well be now. Maybe we will stop them. Maybe this will all come to an end one day, or maybe we are the ones who are all going to meet our end. Either way, I’ll be there to see it.

Hiya, fragheads! I'm looking to trade these catch-and-releases for indie house samples or low partials, and I'm open to designer or niche as well. Decants were obtained from trusted sellers in this group or from wholesalers.
I included prices if you'd prefer to do it that way; add $5 for shipping if that's what you want to do.
[The goods]

Banana Republic 06 Black Platinum (bottle)	12/15ml	$10
Banana Republic 17 Oud Mosaic (bottle)	13/15ml	$10
Alexandria Fragrances 2019 NYE Ltd Edition	25/30ml	$25
Tom Ford Tuscan Leather (decant)	4.5/5ml	$20
Tom Ford Fougere d'Argent (decant)	9/10ml	$40
Dolce & Gabbana The One for Men Parfum (decant)	4/5ml	$8
Creed Original Vetiver (sample)	1/2ml	$3
Creed Green Irish Tweed (sample)	1/2ml	$3
Creed Aventus (sample)	1.9/2ml	$6
Louis Vuitton Au Hasard (decant)	1/2ml	$3