Left Right Game Pt. 2 | Creep Cast
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Welcome back to Creepcast!

Let's go baby! How you doing? How you doing? Left right game, I'm so excited! We are completing the left right game today. We are on part two. This is getting a lot of excitement here in the comments. We've been seeing a lot of people asking for it in my videos especially. I see you guys. Also, I say especially. Especially, I see it on my Papa Meat videos about people, they're hounding me. They're barking. They're at

the back door barking. That is true. I uploaded a main channel video earlier this week and half the comments were about the video. The other half were like, what do you mean we gotta wait another week for the left right game? Why? Why?

I think, you know, we have not read this yet, which just want to also get... So this is a 10-part series. The first episode, if you have not listened to the first part, I strongly suggest you do so because we covered the first five parts. From this episode on, it's going to be 6 through 10. And I just want to give a shout-out because also during, like...

During the lapse between these episodes, the author of this, Neon Tempo, whose name is Jack, reached out and he just wanted to say that, you know,

Oh, yeah.

Absolutely. I also want to say, since I now know the creator of this story is watching, Jack, you don't know how satisfying it is to find a story that's about really weird stuff happening and people getting picked off and it's creepy, it's absurd, it's unexplainable. It's perfect. I love it. Put more of this into my veins. Thank you for the left-right game. Yeah, seriously. So for those who weren't here for the first part, basically...

There is a reporter. This story is about a girl named Alice Sharma.

who goes on this excursion with a guy named Rob who has discovered something called the left-right game. And it's pretty simple. You get into a vehicle, you take the first available left turn, then the first available right turn, then the left, then the right, and you continue that until eventually you cross over into what seems to be another plane of existence where there's these very weird creepy towns, there's these weird hitchhikers, there's these unexplainable monsters...

A lot of strange stuff happens. And we started out with seven people, right? Seven or eight people. And we're down to five now. If I remember correctly. Two people should have died. Which, God, our fallen soldiers. Apollo, my boy. Who you definitely didn't say you hated in the previous one. Now, listen, listen. The death was very sad. Apollo, I thought his jokes were a bit...

you know i could have done without them but as a character he really proved himself to be a selfless go-getting good guy so his death was extreme i mean it's you know i could do nothing but a nice royal salute to our fallen lad but i will say it was pretty cool watch like he died kind of falling on the sword you know to keep her safe the tragedy of it is she died too that's

That's really heartbreaking. Yeah, it almost felt like it was not in vain, which at least one of them survived. Now, we're talking about the two girls that were with each other driving in their car. Lilith and Eve, yeah. One of them, yeah. I believe Lilith survived. Yes, and Eve's the one that died. And now she is hellbent on getting to the end of this because she doesn't want both of their deaths to be in vain. But I will say, too, with Alice Sherman, this story so far has been really, really fun because I love...

I love, love, love horror stories where, and now I didn't say whore. I know I don't pronounce it very well, but I love stories that have a skeptic coming in and thinks that they know everything, and then the kind of universe gets flipped on their head. And Rob has been a great...

Like, basically, like, buddy protagonist in this role. You know, and even his name being Ferryman, and he is taking them to what essentially is purgatory. Yeah. Almost, like, I mean, I feel like there's going to be a parallel there somehow. Yeah.

Oh yeah. It's really fun. He's taking them across the river sticks for sure. Yes. Yeah. It feels that way. And I think that there's been so many moments that are so subtle and nice. Like it's really been building. Like, I mean, so far the highs are the crazy lady that is just like waiting at the specific turn. I think it was like turn 34 or 39. Um,

And then even the hitchhiker was probably my favorite part so far. Honestly, my favorite part, I think, was the town they drove through. I was going to say that too. Oh, it's so good. The visual of it, yeah. We've lost a total of three people now. We've lost Ace, Apollo, and Eve. But we also have...

who spoke to the hitchhiker and now she keeps talking about Winterby that they need to get to this town, right? Yeah, there is something going on there. Definitely a can of worms was opened with her. And I mean, every death has been horrible. I mean, like Ace driving around in his cool Porsche, which it is cool!

But, you know, getting strung up on a tow truck and then driven away is horrible. And then Apollo and Eve pretty much just like drowning in tarmac.

That's such a cool death. That's such a cool. Yeah. Very, very cool. I was thinking about this, like with characters and stuff like that, when a story ends, unless you're going to make a sequel or something, the character is effectively dead, right? Like if, even if they get a happily ever after, you're never going to read about them again. So that character is dead to you. So one of the best things, an odd,

an author can give a character is a good death because then their exits, not only final in the mind of the reader, but it's impactful. It meant something. So like I was thinking about Apollo's death, like it is tragic, but as a character, that is the strongest way he could have exited the stage. Right. Yeah. Well, I think that it's, it does something good where we've seen that this universe, that this kind of game they're playing has, um,

You have these characters... Like, you had the townspeople come out, right? And you're like, okay, crazy townspeople, so we're safe. But now it's getting to the point where they deviated off the path, the specific game that they were playing, and now almost like it dips into surrealism. And now he is getting taken over by the road. Or like, the world itself will devour you whole. And there's all these other rules and...

things that you don't even understand are now able to get you and kill you. I think that's really fun. And especially, it's such an unfortunate thing that the most positive character had to be the one to show us that kind of rule exist. So, you know, like I said, rip Apollo. There's also almost a...

a nihilism to Apollo dying after, or sorry, the person Apollo sacrificed himself for dying right afterwards. It's almost like a narrative statement of, no, you can't, there are no good guys here, right? Like it's, this world is so outside of the rules of our own. Don't, don't try to be the hero.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Very reminiscent of like Michael Haneke's funny games where it's kind of, it's like this world or the situation is all about, you know, you have to live in the violence kind of thing and, you know, there is no escaping it and it's really haunting. But man, I, you know, I'm curious because I'm wondering, we're going to get to a point also, and this is, I know we're preambling a bit before the reading here, but

we're going to get to a spot where I think Rob is going to let people know, like, I've never been this far because that has to happen at some point. Rob is, Rob is seasoned. He's been in this world before and no one else really has. And also even one of the characters is also another skeptic. And she's like a writer who came in and she thought it was all stupid, but now she is also pretty much shell shocked. I mean, I think she's fully bought in now. It seemed like at least by the end of part five,

Rob just starts messing with them like they're about to get in their cars. He's like, oh yeah, watch out for the flesh puppet. And then he like gets in the car. Skids off. Yeah, watch out for that flesh puppet by the way. Okay, bye.

Also, don't forget, it's like he's also like giving DDR. He's like giving DDR like instructions to people. He's like left, right, left, right, down, left, right, right, left, right, right, right, left, right. He's like, all right, guys, have fun. The whole community game through walkie talkie. What's so hard to remember? Gosh, I don't understand why it's so difficult. It's simple. Left, right, left, left, left, left, left, right, left, right, left, right, right, left.

Okay, do you got that? We're going to be driving for seven and a half hours today. I really need you to understand that that's going to happen. Go ahead. I was going to say, we also forgot to mention that these are being uploaded from somebody who is transcribing. Was it emails? No, it's remember he got a document, left.right.as, and it was a text file with all this in it. Yeah.

Right, so he's been transcribing this, our narrator basically has been transcribing this, but I wouldn't even say narrator, it's just somebody who preambles and it's kind of fun, it's just like a little thing like being like, hey, sorry it took me a bit. Yeah, exactly. So we still, you know, doing the same kind of thing that we see on r slash nosleep a lot, which is our kind of realistic person, or like real life person giving us these stories. How did it get to the board? Yeah.

I will mention that the details I'm most looking forward to are Rob's character arc. I want to see where Blue Jay goes after what she just witnessed, what her realization with it is. And, of course, the scares. I can't wait to see how weird this gets. I'm excited. And I will say, I've been voicing a lot of people. I do not expect the voices to be the same from last time.

I cannot promise that they will be. And I also, I see all the memes about people. I saw a lot of people talking about my British accent. I'm sorry. She said she was from Britain. I think it's good. I think you should turn it up more.

You know what? At some point, I'm just going to do cockney stuff and you're going to have to just bear with me. I see the memes and how dare you? I look at all of your memes and I say, how dare you? I saw someone saying it was a comment that was like, Isaiah seems to be like Hunter's psychiatrist watching a man go through a multiple personality breakdown. That's what it felt like. That's what it felt like.

Yeah, that's what the show is. And I get to make money off of it. So anyway, I will say... I'm just glad that you're at least doing Rob. It gives it nice... At least there's one voice that isn't mine in there. Yeah, yeah. Although it would be funny to watch you struggle through it, but... Now I'm even Rob. You did good. There it is, yeah. Yeah, that's right. What did I say? Is that your Wendigoon impersonation? What would you do if you did my voice?

What would I do if I... You're kind of up in this register a little bit, and you have a little bit of a southern twang to it. So sometimes you're kind of up here, is what I hear. That's pretty good. Hello, gentlemen. I'm here to talk to you about a story. It's like I'm talking to a mirror. Hearing it now, I'm like, that is the worst impression I think I've ever gotten. No, I think that's pretty good. We'll see what they have to say about it.

Anyway, we need to get to the story. Last thing to mention before we get started is we're on all audio platforms. Like the big ones, please. So like Spotify, Apple Podcasts.

So if you're if you'd rather hear it over there than YouTube, go check it out. Or if you have a friend that listens over there, check it out over there. And all the likes and the shares and stuff on there really help us grow to a new audience. It isn't just on YouTube and it really does mean the most. So, yeah, it does. It does help. That's what they say. So please go over there and download and like and all that stuff. So on that note, we are now on to part six. Part six! The left right game. Are you ready, Hunter?

Oh, I am stoked. Let's get it. Let's go. Part six. So once again, we have an introduction from our person compiling this, uh, the stories on the subreddit. Hi guys. Sorry. It's taken a while to get this posted up. I've been busy chasing leads with us missing persons. I won't waste more of your time. Log us below. If you have any information, then please send it my way. Thanks for your help guys. It means a lot.

So now we begin with the left-right game. Which, yeah, I forgot that he's saying that he's...

he's also been doing this thing trying to see where Alice is even at. Yeah. He's trying to find her. Cause there's like people in the comments. Like, I think I know that turn that gas station near Phoenix, you know? So it's been an interesting thing. So yeah. All right. So we're now on to February 12th. I can't remember the dates, but they've been in here like what? Four or five days at this point. I want to say that they, I want to say that it was, they've definitely been at least four days. Like I want to say the eighth, like I think she got there on the seventh. And I think the first night was on the eighth. If I'm, if I remember right. Uh,

You're correct. She got there on the 7th. Yeah. God, I'm good. Yeah. All right. Don't. All right. Anyway. No, no, no. I'm good. I'm good. Next time he mentions the Jeep, I'm going to need you to calm down. Okay? Yeah. Oh. All right. Back to the story. And again, for everyone, this is right after Yven, Apollo just died and they started driving. Yes. Yep. Silence used to be an absolute. That's something I definitely miss.

Back in the real world, I would stand as self-evident that a group of people saying absolutely nothing, by definition, could not be saying any less. Maybe things are different on the road, maybe I just never encountered it before, but it's clear to me now there are degrees beyond silence. A pervasive realm of deafening quiet which, following the loss of Eve and Apollo, our group has unreservedly embraced.

Constructed out of our collective trauma, cemented with a cruel mixture of grief, guilt, and harrowing self-doubt, it quickly becomes apparent that this silence is stronger than all of us. The challenge of breaking it remains unmet for the rest of the journey. We spend the next few hours burrowing through a featureless corridor of maze. The stalks rise far above the Wrangler, leaving only a thin strip of clear sky visible like the painted ceiling of a Renaissance church.

Everybody knows Rob. Rob's the god! Ha ha!

I won't be able to do that much more, so I'm stoked that I got to do it at least one more time. Well, don't worry. He's dead, so he'll be good. Okay. I listened through Apollo's first interview, making notes for the closing paragraph. I'll now be forced to write about him. When I have everything I need, I listen to the interview again, and then once more.

It's not lost on me that I just want to hear his voice, to lose myself in a pleasant digital echo, far removed from the frantic screams that followed him into the asphalt. I listen to Eve's interview next. She bristles with excitement as she talks about her upcoming visit to Roswell, steadfastly attempting to recruit me to the effort. She had no idea what she was heading into when she stepped out onto Rob's front lawn. Then again, none of us did. The thin strip of sky is turning deep orange as I reach our encounter with the hitchhiker.

It's chilling to hear his voice after the fact, to revisit the conniving, veiled pleasantries he employed against us. I cringe as I hear Rob's hand grasp my arm, ashamed that I let myself fall for the hitchhiker's trickery. You did good. I'm sorry for grabbing you. I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret. No, it's fine. I was going to. Do you know what happens if you talk to him? Not sure. Came close myself once, a few years back. The way he looks at you when he thinks he's got you.

I don't think I want to know. Rob, I- I pause the audio file, clicking back ten seconds before pressing play again. No, it's fine. I was going to. Do you know what happens if you talk to him? Not sure. Came close myself once, a few years back. The way he looks at you when you think he's- I certainly didn't notice then at the time. I'd been so shaken by my run-in with the hitchhiker, and so curious about the abandoned car that I'd been completely blind to anything else that had come my way.

Maybe Rob misspoke. Maybe he meant to say weeks or months, but if it wasn't a mistake, if it was a truth carelessly uttered, then Rob has some explaining to do. The Left/Right Game was posted online in June of 2016.

less than a year ago. Not to kill the vibe while you're listening to something horrific, I wanted to take a moment to talk about something fantastic, like today's sponsor, Rocket Money. I'm sure we've all gone over budget on a project or expenses than we originally intended to, or we had a recurring subscription that was charging us every month that we just didn't know about. Well now Rocket Money is

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Hope you all check them out. Link is in the description and we are back to the show. Oh, oh, I see. He, so he claims he's only been doing the left right game for the past year. And then he says, came close to myself a few years back. Interesting. A few years back, yeah. I will say something else that I don't know if I expect it to happen or I just think it might be more. It's what I could imagine happening in this scenario, but.

I feel like the group should be more mad at Rob because even if they were skeptics, right? Even if they were going into this, like, yeah, the left right game isn't real, blah, blah, blah.

Rob knows that it's real, right? And he invited people in, knowing they might die. That seems reckless. Like, for example, Hunter, if I was like, hey, Hunter, there's this cool cave on my property, and it has this, like, giant spider in it that wants to eat people, right? You may not believe me, but what if I was like, hey, Hunter, you wanna come see this cave? What?

Yeah, I'd be like, hey, you really should have told me about the fucking eight foot tall spider that's in there that's been eating people. And then I'm like, well, I told you it's kind of dangerous. Yeah, exactly. Well, you wouldn't believe me. So what's the point? You were going to think I was lying. Yeah. Well, that's why I'm surprised. I think that that will probably arise. But I'm just I Rob's intentions are.

Like, I think... I do wonder how much of it is deceit to try to make sure to, like, get as many bodies as he can to... Yeah. For something. I'm starting to turn a bit on Rob. I think he's malicious. It's a bit suspicious. Yeah. Between what Alice just pointed out about the gear thing...

I'm scared. I'm afraid of him all of a sudden. Yeah. I don't know if I can trust him. And what sucks, too, is that he is the ferryman. I mean, he knows where to go. He knows what to do. And you're kind of following his lead. I mean, what are you going to do? Leave?

If you do find out he's bad, right? Cause then also he, he, he, he stages it in a way where he's like, well, you can turn back now, but just remember you have to go exactly the way. Yeah. For days. And then you have to go out there by yourself at night. Yeah. Have fun at night. And then, Hey, yeah. Also be sure. And, uh,

you know, be sure and remember exactly how you came back in. It's like, I doubt people were actually marking which way they were coming in. Like it's unrealistic to go to even leave without his guidance. Yeah. So, so he's kind of, it's kind of got him stuck. Not much you can do. You can't get mad and kill him. Right. Cause then you're up a Creek without a paddle. So, Oh, and I do want to say too, cause I saw some comments saying, where do they fuel up? There was a part in the story we were, we read last time where like this fuel just does not burn.

as quick when it still happens but everything requires less energy it's like they're in a stasis almost the farther they go in the less like the fuel burns like they don't have to eat or sleep really it becomes like yeah like i i don't know i wouldn't be surprised if when they come back out time hasn't passed at least not to the same degree it has on the outside

That's what I was wondering is if he says a few years back as in like in a perceptive time, it's like it's only been a year. Oh, that's a good point. If he was like, oh, I was in here six years. Oh, that'd be pretty cool. That'd be a cool turnaround if that's what happened. Yeah. Okay, cool. I glanced sideways at him. A wall of corn rushing past us as we approached the rest stop. Throughout this trip, every emotion Rob's displayed has seemed genuine.

The sadness, the anger, the concern. They tell a story of a man who cares deeply about the welfare of those around him. Yet at the same time, it's strikingly clear that there's something he isn't telling me. With every new piece of the puzzle, the car, the text message, the faceless creature with the ringing phone, I'm left with the dilemma of when to confront Rob Guthard with what I know. I feel I've gathered enough to bring before him, enough to demand an explanation, but there's no way I'd be able to truly verify his answer.

I have a collection of strange and perplexing notions, lacking in the common thread that could bring me to any workable conclusion. If I'm going to confront Rob, I need to uncover that thread. Much like the greatest journalist of our time, I should know the answer before I ask the question. The Jeep pulls up onto a large green space. Staring straight ahead, I find myself puzzled by the way the ground seems to stop, as if the horizon lies only 20 meters away from the car.

As soon as the engine cuts out, I unbuckle my seatbelt, climb out, and walk towards the grassy verge. The rest of the convoy pulls up behind me as I go. I stop a few steps short of the edge, realizing we found our way to the top of a sheer cliff. A sudden swaying vertigo takes over, forcing me to take a few steps back.

It doesn't feel like we've been heading uphill. The road has been level since Jubilation, yet somehow I'm standing at the edge of a 400-foot rock face descending straight downwards, the distant earth shrouded by stalks of corn. That's the truly strange thing about this monolithic precipice. On either side of me, the maze runs to the very edge of the cliff, and at its base, the endless harvest continues until it stretches beyond the darkening horizon in every direction.

It feels like I'm standing on the cliffs of Dover, staring over a golden ocean, its waves governed by the evening breeze. I wonder for a moment where it ends, then, taking consideration of the world I now occupy, I start to wonder if it ever does. A belligerent scream rips me from the view. The source of the noise is blocked by the wrangler, and the first thing I see as I circle around are the shocked, wide-eyed faces of Bonnie and Clyde.

Once I make my way past the Wrangler's hood, my expression mimics theirs. Lilith has pinned Bluejay up to the side of the jeep, a locked forearm pressing her chest against the door. Her other arm has been grasped in Bluejay's hands, desperately stopped before it can strike her across the face. The two of them yell through gritted teeth as Lilith struggles furiously against her, vying to cause her any conceivable harm. ''Fuck off me, bitch! Get off!''

I take a few quick steps over to Lilith as Bluejay attempts to kick her away. "Lilith, we can't do this. Jin!" Lilith doesn't even register my presence as she continues her assault, deafened by the bubbling vitriol and every growling breath. "Jin! We are not doing this now! Not after-" Before I can comprehend what's happening, I'm staring at the sky, my head knocked back by the force of Lilith's flailing elbow. A hot, raw ache radiates across my lower lip as I stagger back, raising my hand over my mouth.

Before Lilith can continue her assault, Robb swings open his door and takes two short strides over to her. He puts one arm around the girl's waist and picks her up, carrying her safely, but firmly, over to Bonnie and Clyde's Ford and planting her back on the ground. I seem to always forget how strong he is. "Dammit, this is not the time!" "Take it back!" Bluejay has lost her usual snide demeanor, yet her aura still radiates an unbridled scorn.

In response to Lilith's demand, Bluejay walks back to her car and sits on the hood. She takes the Marlboros out of her pocket along with her lighter and ignites a cigarette. I imagine the burning embers are the only company she's comfortable to accept right now. By the time I look back to the rest of the group, Lilith has stormed away. "What did she say?" "I didn't hear it all." "What did she say, Bonnie?" "I heard something about… she said Lilith was… that we were complicit."

God damn it. Bristol, can you... I watch Lilith as she sets on the grass and looks over the cliffside. She begins to cry. Yet I get a strong notion that it's not something I should interrupt. It feels like something between her and Eve. A final act of reactionary mourning reserved for them and them alone. Yeah, don't worry. I'll handle it. Okay, I'll cook us something up.

An hour passes, Lilith grows slowly calmer, drifting from cathartic release into a cold, wordless melancholy. Finishing up my dinner, I make my way over to her. "It's a strange view." Lilith looks up at me. Her face falls. "I cut you. I'm so sorry." "It's fine. You should see the other girl." "Yeah. I bet she looks like shit right about now." I help myself down onto the cool ground, staring alongside Lilith into the ocean below. "Bluejay thinks I'm complicit. And what happened to Eve?"

I heard. She used to think we were morons. Now she thinks we're all in on it. Doesn't make sense. I think she just... I think she has to believe this place is a lie. She needs to make sense and make it harder. And the harder it gets for her to rationalize, the more she... Anyway. She shouldn't have said what she said. She just... I guess the word is troubled.

She's a fucking thundercunt. Um, uh, okay. She's right, though. I killed her. I killed Apollo, too. I looked to Lilith, concerned, not quite sure what she means. Her eyes remained locked on the impossible horizon. Sarah, she wasn't cut out for this. And she knew it. She wanted us to turn back this morning, but I didn't want to. That wasn't just your decision, Lilith. Yes, it was. She...

She followed my lead. Always. Through everything. And I knew why she was doing it. I knew. But I let it continue. Because it was convenient. Because it was easy. Because deep down, I liked having someone around who jumped through fucking hoops for me. God, it's so fucked. Lilith rest her head in her hands. She was weak. She was anxious and shy. But that should be okay, right? You're allowed to be weak, that's... But I made her come here. I dragged someone who couldn't swim into the fucking deep end...

And the last thing I did was lie to her and she fucking knew it. Willis takes a few deep, frayed breaths. What do you mean? I'm not... I didn't... I loved her, you know? As a friend, it was always this fucking one-way street and I don't think she minded, but then suddenly she's vanished right in front of me and she says she... I mean, how else was I supposed to respond to that? I had to say it back, right? Uh-oh.

Lilith maintains her composure as a steady stream of tears rolls down her cheek. I don't know what I'd do in that situation. I could see in her eyes that she didn't believe me. I wonder how many people have died while do- I wonder how many people have died while being told, like, comforting lies. How many of them fucking knew? I think you did the best you could, Jin. I think you did better than most. You don't need to tell me that. Are you tired? Do you need to go to bed soon? No, I don't need to. There's some beers in here and- and Apollo's bag-

Lilith laughs briefly and finally smiles. She walks over to Bonnie and Clyde's car, returning a moment later with a four-pack. We spend the next hour and a half slowly drinking them. Lilith can't muster the right words for a toast, so we just say thank you to Apollo, raising out cans to the open air.

We talk about his tireless humor, his attempts to keep us all up during our first night on the road, how caringly he spoke to everyone, even at the edge of death. We talk about Eve as well, about the pair's misadventures, awkward college parties, and the future of Paranormicon. Lilith smiles and tells me there's always a place for me once radio dies out. After everything that's happened on the road, the night can't help but feel bittersweet. But for once, on a solitary cliff side in the middle of nowhere, it's more sweet than it is bitter.

That may not be much, but at the end of an awful day, it's more than either of us could have hoped for. Man, that was a rough conversation. The whole, like, she was dying, so I said the things she wanted to hear, but I guess I wasn't good enough. Like, dang, dude. That's pretty rough. Definitely that she, that Eve loved her in a different way, and Lilith just kind of

I think she feels like she kind of played her a bit. Yeah, that's what I get from that whole interaction. To kind of conveniently... Because I think Lilith really wants to be here. I don't think Eve did. But I think that because she was stringing her along, I think that she feels that it is her fault. Eve maybe didn't... If she would have told her the truth, I don't think Eve would have probably been there. You know what I mean? Yeah, yeah. I don't think Lilith...

did anything expressly sinister it was more so like oh well i want her to come with me and she's into me so i'll i'll kind of like let her flirt do her thing you know if it well it keeps it yeah well i think that's the problem is that it's not entirely sinister until the person the repercussions of this trip yeah because of it wouldn't have been had it not been so drastic yeah and yeah i

Man, that's hard. That's rough. Yeah, that's pretty rough. I sympathize with Lilith. I mean, I don't think that she's like a bad character. Yeah, I don't hate her. I actually like her character. I think that's an interesting... She's one of the more diverse out of the group, I think. Yeah. I think like her being conscious of that kind of thing and having it weigh on her, I think shows her...

a bit more to her character because I think before I kind of read her both, not really both of them, but being a bit did see maybe or just kind of like, oh yeah, we're just here. It's like a good time. So it's, it's kind of interesting to give another little emotional, uh,

to her as a character. And I think they did enter it kind of hapless. Their attitude of like, oh, we're going to get this footage and put it on YouTube and we're going to get this footage and stuff. I mean, so did everyone else because you expect this Rob guy to be right that you're going to enter an alternate dimension. Well, yeah, no one expected someone to be buried into asphalt. That was never there. Rob's just like, well, just stick to my rules and you'll be fine.

Yeah, what else is happening? No, don't worry about it. You know hey look at that bird You're like what if we don't and then like a giant like plant fucking your body enough Oh should have focused on the bird

Yeah, there's no tactical precedent for the pavement eating someone. There's no rulebook on that. There's no play-by-play. Do you think also that he hasn't said any of this stuff because he thinks that, like,

If he would say that, not only would people not want to come, but also people would just be like, this guy's a nut. And they were like, I think so. You know what I mean? Like, I think like, I wonder how much of it is him being like, well, if I would have told you, you would have like thought I was crazy and you wouldn't have even wanted to go. Think about this way. Rob knows everything and more of what's happened so far, except the only thing that seemed to surprise him was jubilation being violent.

But other than that, everything seems to be new, like familiar to him. And the way he explains it to Alice in the beginning is, oh yeah, weird stuff happens. Like, yeah, I mean, he definitely, he for sure undercut it. Yeah. Yeah. Anyway. Um, yeah. Bye. Like Lilith. I hope she, I hope she lives so that the tragedy means something. I hope she makes it out.

Yeah. Yeah. You, I hope that there's a purpose to it, but we'll see. Yeah. Either, either Lilith lives or everyone dies. Either of those scenarios could work. Uh, but I hope, I hope Lilith makes it anyway. The next morning goes quickly. It's amazing how efficient a group of people can be when none of them feel like talking. Not only that, but breakfast has become a noticeably brief affair. I managed to get through half a bag of trail mix before I find myself uncomfortably full.

Rob's words about the road's sustaining properties ring in my ears as I look around the group. Everyone leaves their bowls half empty. Lilith hasn't eaten a bite.

By this point, the launch protocol has been drilled into us. Despite our preoccupations and the fractitious rifts developing between us, the cars line up like clockwork as they merge onto the road. In fact, the mood of the group seems strangely procedural. All radio contact starts with the starting of a call sign, followed by that of the recipient. The cars maintain an even, careful distance between one another.

We've seen all too clearly what happens when the rules are neglected, and no one wants to take chances anymore. How far away are we? From where? You haven't gotten to the end of the road, right? I mean, you're still charting it. That's right. Well, how long until we get to, you know, to uncharted territory? To be honest, not too long. What's going to happen once we reach that point? We're going to keep driving. Until we get to the end? That's the plan.

You know I won't judge you if you want to turn around. I'm sure you could talk someone into it. Could I talk you into it? Rob smiles. Afraid not. This trip ain't like the others. Road's kicking back like never before. I think it knows I'm coming all the way this time. What is this place, Rob? Rob sighs as he slowly takes the next left on a quiet, rural T-junction. I think it's a stray thread running off the spoil. The radio crackles. Rob, you just took the wrong turn.

An instant drum of fresh panic hammers in my chest. I stare at Rob, and he stares right back. I know he's feeling the same thing I am, though he's doing a much better job of keeping it off his face. He thinks carefully for a moment. "No? No, I've been down this road before. We took a right last time." "Uh, yeah, yes. The turn before this one was a right, I remember."

Fair men to all cars, thanks Bonnie for giving us the fright of our lives. We're on the right- we're on the correct road. No, no that can't be, it's- that's wrong. Martin, tell them. Our mistake, Rob. Let's keep going. Bristol?

There's concern in Lilith's voice. I lean over to my wing mirror, attempting to gauge the atmosphere in the car behind me. There's clearly some commotion between Bonnie and Clyde, with the latter attempting to gently remove the walkie-talkie from his sister's hands. Oh, yeah. Yeah, because remember, she's losing her mind. What I'm saying is, I feel like because she talked to the hitchhiker, that she, I feel like it's the road trying to fuck them up. Yeah, she's like a conduit for the road at this point. Yeah, I think so. Yeah.

There's something else, however. Past Bonnie and Clyde, past Blue Jay, an old dilapidated road sign made of weathered timber stands by the side of the road behind us. I can't read all of it as the peeling letters grow even ever smaller, but I can piece together what it probably once said.

Winnery Bay, five miles. Ooh. I'm excited. So that is what Bonnie... Well, what's interesting, too, about that, man, is Rob was like, oh, it's not too much farther till we get an uncharted territory. Oh, that's a good point. And of course it's Winnery Bay. That's a good point. I didn't think of that. Yeah. Do you think that means Rob has been or that's where he turned around?

I'm wondering if that's where he turned around, is what I'm thinking. Something had to have happened. I'm so excited to see what Winnery Bay is. Honestly, I know that you all wanted to see part two of the Left Right game last Saturday, but honestly, I don't care about you. I was upset...

I didn't get to read the rest of it because like I like all week was thinking in my head like what is wintery bay what is wintery bay especially putting such a notion on I mean like my favorite part was the hitchhiker and to I love that that interaction with him is still ongoing in this story like there's still repercussions exactly yeah how fun I'm pumped all right wintery bay five miles

We're gonna turn around, right? Uh, one second, Bonnie. I'll check... er, I'll... check the map. I promptly switch off the radio. Are we not passing through Winnery Bay? Rob turns to me, a puzzled look in his eyes. Through where?

In the wake of those two innocently inquiring words, my mind reels back to the morning of our third day on the road, watching Bonnie and Clyde wander over to Rob to confess their transgressions with the hitchhiker, the quiet conversation that passed between them. Rob's seemingly comforting response. I'd felt wretched in those moments. A few minutes prior, I had tricked and deceived Clyde, yet I never once considered he might have done the same to me. Is it safe to pull over? What? Why?

Is it safe, Rob? Uh, yeah, yeah, it should be. Then pull over. I switch the radio back on and grab the receiver. As I make a connection to Bonnie and Clyde's car, it's clear that an argument is brewing. Lilith is asking for me, a helpless passenger, caught in the middle of something she doesn't understand.

Bristol to all cars. We're stopping up ahead. I want to add that Alice pulling this is one of the smartest moves in the story. The moment she puts the pieces together that Clyde and Bonnie did not tell Rob that she's been talking about Wintory Bay. The moment Alice finds out, she's like, all right, we're doing this now. We're doing it right here. That's smart. That's very smart. Well, what's also interesting is he felt like he didn't understand. And if I remember right, Alice did have some interaction with the hitchhiker, right? Yeah.

Like one little thing? Or almost? It was almost because randomly the hitchhiker goes, you're just a disappointment, aren't you? And she turns around real quick. Doesn't she say what, though? What did you say? She says...

The way it's written is it says, what? And then it says, right before the words leave my mouth, Rob grabs me. Oh, I see. Yeah. Okay. Because I was just wondering if she could only see it because she also slightly interacted with him. I mean, she looked at him. She made eye contact with him. Yeah, but I don't know if that would count as the same thing as, like, conversating with him. She never spoke to him. She never spoke to him, though. Right, right. Whereas Bonnie straight up said, bless you. Yeah, Bonnie had, like, full conversation with him. After he sneezed. And then she just started talking to him after that. Yeah. Yep.

um which the sneeze is a clever way to get someone that's very devilish yeah that is good all right rob seems acutely aware that i'm not messing around as soon as we roll to a halt i throw my door open and jump onto the dusty roadside striding over to the rest of the convoy who are just starting to get out of their own cars i'm conscious of a driving anger behind each step i take you didn't tell him bristol i what's going on bristol rob marches up behind me more than a little restless to get a grip on my motives clyde

Clyde looks around a circle of expectant eyes. He delivers his answer. He's unable to meet any of them. Bonnie, Bonnie, talk to the hitchhiker. Rob's expression shifts, his confusion degrading into a solemn understanding. Damn it. You knew about this, Bristol? I told them to tell you in the morning of the third day. I saw them go over to you and I thought they did. Bonnie thought you'd turn us around.

Well she was damn right. You've seen what happens when the rules get broken. You should have seen me as soon- hold on. You should have told me as soon as you saw me and headed right back home. That was before Ace. Before everything. I didn't know this place was- The rules are the rules, Clyde. Is anything even wrong with Bonnie? You said she gets confused. Was that a lie? Clyde doesn't answer, avoiding Rob's glare. As I process what Rob's just said, I have to say I'm surprised by the deviousness of the two siblings.

Wow.

The group turns to Bonnie. She speaks in a tone more decisive than I thought her capable. I'm sorry for worrying everyone. Please don't make us turn around, Robb.

Rob stares at them both. His position has been made crystal clear. We're stopping a little early today. Come the rest of the way with us. Rest up, and tomorrow, you both go home. You should count yourselves lucky you get the chance to turn around. Rob marches back to the Wrangler, signaling that the discussion is over. Lilith, you're with us. Lilith doesn't even try to hide her relief as she shuffles away from Bonnie and climbs into the back of the jeep.

It's a little heartwarming that Rob still has the awareness to look out for her, angry as he may be. As well as his surprising strength, I also tend to forget how perceptive he can be. Bonnie, Clyde, and Blue Jay climb back into their respective vehicles. I catch Bonnie's eye the moment before she returns to the Ford. She appears truly disappointed, but otherwise resigned to keep going, satisfied to let Wintory Bay fade into the distance. It's comforting to hear that she's ready to put the place behind her.

It's just a pity I don't believe a word of it. Yeah, of course. Of course she's not going to forget about it. Yeah, duh. Absolutely not. Yeah. That's an interesting interaction. I feel like Bonnie... My prediction is Bonnie is going to get her and Clyde killed somehow. Yeah, I mean... I mean, you know, I don't want to slow the story down too much, but I do think that...

Even if they do leave, I think it will not be the last we see of them. I don't believe that they are going to just go back. They're going to come back as those weird scarecrow things later on. All that beautiful emphasis on that sea of corn and the giant hill. I don't know. I think that there's going to be something in there. It feels like a concoction for a great scene. I'm curious. Someone's going to die. I can't wait.

Also, no, we're going to see Wintory Bay. We have to see Wintory Bay. I think so. I'm excited for that, too.

I think so. I think that the only thing I'm wondering is why does it Rob know what it is? Like, well, because he's never driven through it. Right. Because it sounds like even the sign. Right. Well, I mean, maybe, maybe like, I'm sure there's a ton of road signs. They pass by like fake road signs. Oh, sure. So whenever he's like, she's like wintery Bay, Rob's like, what? That sign back there. What are you talking about? You know? Sure. Okay. I mean, that's fair. Yeah, that's fair.

Lilith, this is Lilith speaking. It was fucking weird, Bristol. But I swear she was basically like crying, like...

She didn't understand how we could be going the wrong way. But then like, as soon as you pulled us over and she just stopped. Like I mean, stopped. That must have been... that must have been disconcerting. You have no idea. So Rob, when are these cornfields gonna fucking end? Soon. We're gonna rest up for the night in a few turns, then tomorrow it won't be long until we're on a track through the woods. The fucking woods? Are you kidding?

Are we talking like sleepy hollow bleeding trees or what? Wish I could tell you. Wait, what do you mean? I ain't been that far yet. It's new territory. Oh, great. Maybe the cornfields aren't so... Lilith goes quiet, transfixed by something in the rearview mirror, before quickly turning around to get a better look out the back window.

The car behind us is out of control. Wow, who could have guessed? Here we go. Bonnie is fighting to wrestle the steering wheel from her brother. The Ford swerves erratically behind us, driven mad by the dynamic power struggle taking place inside it. Rob sharply accelerates out of the way as the car behind lurches drunkenly to and fro before skidding to a shuddering halt.

Rob hits the brake hard, and by the time I've turned in his direction, he's already slammed the door of the Wrangler, storming across the tarmac to Bonnie and Clyde. "CUT THE ENGINE!" The Ford's engine goes silent, and in the absence of its rumbling growl, new sounds emerge. Sounds of a struggle, and of a wild, desperate screaming. Stepping out of the car for the second time today, I jump onto the road and cover the distance between us.

Rob is attempting to pull a screeching Bonnie from the car. Even with his impressive strength, it seems to be a challenge. Bonnie claws at the walls, trying with all her might to regain her grasp on the steering wheel. Please! Please! Let me go! Let me go! Rob extracts Bonnie from the car and attempts to subdue her amidst a flurry of flailing hands and elbows. She rise and kicks as he pins her arms to her sides. Bonnie! Bonnie! Calm down, okay? Let's talk through this!

He told me it was on our way. He said we passed through. He lied, Bonnie. No! No, we're going the wrong way! We're going the wrong way! Bonnie lashes out again, striking at Rob's legs with her own. Rob holds her firmly, hit teeth gritted through every impact. It's clear that Bonnie isn't going to let up. I run back to the Wrangler and open up the trunk. After a few moments of rummaging through my bag, I find the first aid kit and pull out an unopened pack of white zip ties.

Clyde, open the back door. Rob, they're gonna cuff her. You're gonna have to. There's not much else you can do, but it's funny to be like, all right, you're going in the hidey hole. You're gonna have to get zipped up. Sorry. Rob sees me standing with the zip ties. Even in the midst of Bonnie's incessant struggle, he looks at me with an almost questioning air as if he's wondering how we ever arrived at this point. As if he's asking whether we can really do what I'm wordlessly suggesting.

Bonnie answers the last question for him. In the slim few seconds of distraction, she slams her head back into his nose, eliciting a disgustingly loud thud and a pained growl from Rob. Dazed and confused, his nose immediately fountaining blood, Rob manages to keep his arms wrapped around her. But it's clear this isn't going to be sustainable, and that she isn't anywhere close to calming down. Clyde has opened the door, stepping back and looking on like a frightened child as we carry Bonnie over to the backseat of the Ford.

I lean in before him, adjusting the headrest until it's pressed against the ceiling, ensuring that it can't be removed from the bracket. I then loop a zip tie around each bracket and fasten them. What the fuck is going on? Blue Jay has stepped out of her car, making her way towards us. I realize that, to someone who is fighting to not believe in any of this, the following scene would appear to, at best, a melodramatic farce, and, at worst, as the attempted detention of an innocent and distressed woman.

Sadly, I don't have the time to field her questions. Climb into the car, Bonnie working constantly against us as Rob eases her in after me, his hand on her head to prevent it bumping against the top of the doorframe. Once she's inside, I loop a second zip tie around the one I've already fastened on the right bracket, forcing her right hand inside it, I pull the plastic tab over the sleeve of her jumper. I hope it's not too tight, but at the very least it's secure enough to keep her in place.

Bonnie continues to pull against the zip ties, but it's clear her strength has been sapped from her spirited battle with Rob. Not quite able to look her in the eye, I push a pile of luggage out of the way and climb out of the other side of the Ford. Rob and I are both getting our breath back, the former pinching his nose and adjusting stoically to the fresh pain. Hey, what the fuck are- you're not just gonna leave her like that, are you? Get back in your car, Blue Jay.

I walk back to the Wrangler, tuning out Denise's coarse protest. Rob reaches into the Jeep's still-open trunk and pulls out a pile of blankets and pillows. In the rearview mirror, I can see him placing them on Bonnie's lap, giving her a place to rest her elbows. She leans her forehead against the back of the headrest. Even with her face blocked from view, I can tell that she's crying. We arrive at the rest stop some 20 minutes later, the vague outline of a deep green forest blooming on the horizon.

It's earlier in the day than we would usually stop. Rob tells us he wants the entirety of tomorrow to chart the woods, as well as good time to turn back before nightfall should the need arise. I'm not complaining. I'm glad of the chance to rest up following today's events. For the rest of the day, we take it in turns to keep an eye on Bonnie, making sure she has everything she needs. When the Ford pulled up alongside us, Lilith, Rob, and I expected to see a quivering wreck, tugging ceaselessly against her bonds.

We were all surprised, and more than a little disturbed, to find her smiling. By the time my turn comes around, the sun is already dipping in the sky. Rob has prepared a small pot of miso soup in case anyone can bring themselves to eat. I finish my bowl, all too aware of how unnecessary each meal now feels, and pour out a helping for Bonnie. I find her in good spirits. How are you doing, Alice? I'm fine. How are you doing, Linda? Oh, I'm okay. Sorry for giving you such a fright earlier. I feel terrible.

It's fine, honestly. I'm sorry about all of this. I gesture to the zip-tied restraints. Rob has reapplied them, fastening bandages underneath the straps to afford Bonnie a modicum of comfort. Still, the scene rings with a sinister barbarity, which no kind consideration can make up for. It's okay. I wasn't myself. I brought you soup. I know you might not be hungry. No, no, I'd love some. Thank you. Everyone's been so lovely.

Well, we just want to make sure you're all right. The way you're reading this scares me. I want you to know it's good. I feel like that's how she is, right? No, no, that's the correct tone, but it's scary. I submerge the spoon, drench up a measure of warm broth, and begin to raise it towards her. Oh, no, you don't have to. I can feed myself. She gestures to her bound hands, the clear implication hanging in the air. No, I don't mind. I think it's...

What are you doing with her?

Bluejay storms across from her car, angrily drawing from a Marlboro and forcing the smoke draconically back into the air. Nothing, just an accident. It's okay, Bluejay. It's okay, Bluejay. It was my mistake. Did she get any on you? Bluejay leans in, placing her hand comfortably on Bonnie's before turning to fix me with a murderous stare.

It's almost impressive how, even when caring for someone, Blue Jay still manages to be simultaneously venomous to those around her. No, no, it's okay. It was my fault. It's fine. I'm sorry for causing trouble. Blue Jay laughs at Bonnie's submissive apology, unable to believe what she's thinking. Her eyes remain fixed on me. You're a fucking coward. Look at what you're making you do. Look what he's making you do. Look! Look!

My eyes follow where she gestures. I have to admit, the helpless figure of Bonnie, restrained in the backseat of the Ford, rings with an innate inhumanity. Being forced to stare my actions in the face makes me feel utterly ghoulish. The choices I've made seem insane to Blue Jay, but that doesn't mean hers are not.

Despite her pretensions of rationality, I can't help but feel that Blue Jay's actions are simply being governed by a different insanity. An insanity born out of the desperate need to explain the unexplainable, which has morphed into an ugly cocktail of paranoia, self-grandeur, and fervent antagonism. Blue Jay notes my silent expression, most likely taking it as a personal victory. Without another word, she returns to her car and shuts herself inside, festering silently and alone. Do you want to know what's wonderful, Alice?

Bonnie leans towards me, lowering her voice so no one else can hear. He told me there's a house waiting for me. My home by the sea. I'm sorry, Bonnie, I don't think there is. It's going to be such a beautiful place. Such a beautiful place. Bonnie flashes me a broad grin. It's been lovely knowing you, Alice.

Uh, at some point I'd walk up to Rob and be like, Rob, we gotta kill her. We gotta-

Hey, Rob? Yes? Bonnie is pretty sure she's gonna kill us. I'm almost positive she's gonna kill us. Well...

"We got a lot of territory to chart!" And Clyde's just like, "I don't know why you guys are being so weird to my sister! Stop being so weird to my sister, she's fine!" She's like, trying to eat her own face in the backseat of the car. She's just weird like that! She's vibrating, speaking Latin behind the scenes. "Ula, mosca! Ula, ula, ula, ula, ula!" "Alright, so do we have to go home then, or what?"

I don't know what the big deal is. She does this. I don't know why you're being so weird. It's that time of the month. She gets like this. She talked to a demon. Who cares? God. You know, I really thought when you were being Alice just said that you're going to go, Rob, you're going to want to see this. Rob, yeah, you're going to want to see this. She's right behind me.

Yeah, you get it. You know what I'm saying. Yeah, yeah. Rob, she's right. Yeah, all right. Before you move on, I mean, she's going to escape, right? She's going to escape. Well, I think what she's doing is she's manipulating emotions to turn everyone against each other so she can't escape somehow. Yeah. So after removing my fleece and laying down,

I'm wearing. So this is the end of the day kind of thing. There's a little bracket here. So this is the new day. I'm expecting that they're, they're going to be gone. I feel like Clyde's going to be missing as well. Possibly. Oh no, let's find out. Let's see. When I wake up, the Wrangler's moving. The air mattress reverberates and my body rocks. As we make a sharp U-turn, I sit bolt upright. Lilith waking up next to me, similarly bleary eyed and confused. Rob is behind the wheel. The gear stick shakes as he transports us down the road at incredible speed.

"Rob, what's happening?" Bonnie got herself free. Of course! Of course! What did we say? "Why not?" Bonnie got herself free. She's headed for the turn. I pull myself into the passenger seat, suddenly wide awake. "What? How did she get free? Is she with Clyde?" She hit him over the head, dragged him out of the car. I couldn't wait for him, but he's catching up. Wait, what?

She hit him over the head. She hit him over the head and dragged him out of the car. So I'm guessing that she took their car. So I'm guessing that he's catching up in terms of like, maybe he's riding with Blue Jay. Yes, that's what I bet it means. So Clyde, so Bonnie is by herself in that car. Bonnie is by herself going to that turn. Yes, correct. All right. Right. Lilith and I turn around. Blue Jay's car is gaining on us. A distant pair of high beams steadily drowning the rear window in light. Why is Blue Jay helping him?

She probably wants to keep an eye on us. Rob, do you think we'll catch up with Bonnie? I'm working on it. The Wrangler continues to rocket through the darkness. We keep our eyes fixed forward, scanning the very edge of the horizon for any sign of Bonnie's forward. When Blue Jay pulls alongside us, I get a look at the pair. Blue Jay is not but steely determination, dedicated to reaching Bonnie before we do. Clyde looks mortified, rocked by his sister's actions, a small contusion on his head to mark her vicious betrayal.

Rob screeches to a halt once we arrive at the junction. Bluejay's headlights are already illuminating the road to Winnery Bay. And Rob's lighting rig coats the entire area in an artificial twilight. In the middle of it all, we see Bonnie, standing next to her car, smiling. She's already beyond the threshold of the turn. Linda! Linda, please! Come on back now, okay? You can all come with me. There's a place for all of us. He told me.

There's a place for everyone. Please, Linda, you have to come back. A strange trail of black dust is streaming off Bonnie's skin, rising into the air and dancing in the breeze. After a moment, it becomes clear that the edges of Bonnie are slowly degrading, converting quietly into dark ash and drifting into the atmosphere. I love you very much, Martin. You're always welcome. No, please, please. Bonnie turns around and climbs into the car.

Without looking back, she pulls away down the road to Wintory Bay. The trail of black particles rise from the Ford as she goes, with greater and greater volume as the entire car starts to wither away before our eyes. Less than a minute later, the Ford, with Bonnie inside it, gradually dissolves into dust and scatters to the winds. Clyde doesn't speak. His entire being is quiet. Lilith immediately runs back to the Wrangler.

Rob waits a while, staring at the dancing clouds of dust, before putting his arm around Clyde and gently escorting him to the jeep. As I turn away from the road to Wintory Bay, I take note of Blue Jay's reaction. She looks absolutely petrified, more so than I've ever seen her. She impulsively removes the pack of Marlboros from her pocket and holds them in her hands, before quickly returning them, unsmoked.

The night passes slowly after we return to the rest stop. All of us are exhausted, and more than willing to surrender to the escapism of sleep. Rob rests in the driver's seat, giving up his space on the air mattress to Clyde. Everyone drops quickly enough into a quiet slumber, leaving me awake with only my thoughts for company. I find myself thinking of Bluejay, of how she could possibly hope to rationalize the disintegration of Bonnie and her car. I wonder how I'd feel if the left-right game were exposed as some unparalleled magic trick.

Would I feel foolish? No, I don't think so. Impressed? Maybe. Relieved? Most definitely. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I miss the innocent days when I believed the game was a hoax. I suppose I see why Blue Jay is so adamant about dismissing the place. Trickery, however, elaborate is... Wait. Trickery, however elaborate, is almost always a preferable alternative to genuine horror. The Jeep Stores opens and shuts.

Part of me tries to ignore it, to wash my hands of any other developments in this harrowing night. However, exiled as I am from the kingdom of sleep, I slowly find myself sitting up, quietly putting on my boots and letting myself out. I step out into the cool night, observing the figure before me. Where are you going, Clyde? Uh-oh. Clyde turds to face me. I initially interpret the look he gives me as one of resignation, but the word doesn't quite fit.

Resignation is a defeat. The world exacting compliance from you against your own wishes. But the man before me is as calm as the night air around him. His wishes are clearly his own. There's no defeat in his eyes, but something else entirely. Peace, maybe. "You know where I'm going, Alice." Clyde speaks softly, a quiet conviction behind every word he says. I briefly glance towards the wrangler, wondering if I am really equipped to handle this on my own. "Don't call Rob. I made a mistake coming back to the rest stop.

Clyde's gentle stare renders me silent. I gotta be honest...

Even after all we've been through, everything you and I have seen, I never felt like I was in a new world until now. I don't think I can let you do this, Clyde. I'm sorry, Alice, but it's not up to you. Clyde breathed in the cool night air, exhaling through his nose. I yelled at her to come back. When she ran off to rob that ice cream parlor, I kept calling out and calling out. I spent so much energy trying to get her to come back to me. After all, I realized she wasn't coming back, that I'd have to follow her. I should have realized it earlier.

That's all I can do. Follow where she goes. Clyde looks at me, almost apologetically. Goodbye, Alice. He turns away from the convoy and wanders back down the road. Clyde. He turns around one last time. Do you want company? It takes roughly an hour for us to walk back to the junction. In the time we have, I'm treated to the story of Bonnie and Clyde. The warmest fragments of their life together. The moments that built them. The waves that rocked them and the places they once called home.

I don't think I'll ever agree with what Clyde is doing, but the more he talks, the more I understand. His stories stand more than half a century, supported by a transient cast of acquaintances and friends, but at the core of each tale is a pair of siblings who met the world to one another. The pair existed as two relative souls, quantifiable only in relation to each other. In the absence of one, the remnant was indefinable. A drifting point, unanchored in space. The story ends just as we reach the junction.

Clyde smiles at me one last time before turning to face the road. He steps over the threshold, past the old wooden sign. In the silence of the night, I hear nothing but his soft footsteps and the quiet breeze, which, after a few minutes, carries the last of him into an open sky.

It's a long walk back to the convoy. My mind is numb to fear as I make my way through the dark, the corn rustling in the wind beside me. It's been four days since I arrived at Rob Guthrid's house, sat down at his table, and listened to him speak about the new world he'd discovered. In that time, I've seen things I can't hope to comprehend, sights that exist beyond the spectrum of our reality, things I wouldn't have deemed possible.

For all I know, there is a wintery bay, and Bonnie has already arrived at her house by the sea, standing at the door, waiting with confidence for her brother's arrival. I may never know, but I do hope they find each other, wherever they may be. Dang. End of part six. I'm sad now. That's crazy. That was sad. That's crazy. It's also, it's a crazy thing of this chapter, we lost Bonnie and Clyde.

Bonnie and Sam, we saw how she is lost, but Clyde is pretty much just like, there's no life without my sister, and pretty much gives his life at the end there. Pretty unbelievable. Like, just sad, but then also, like, in a way, it's like... I don't know. I would be...

It's 60 years is a long time. You know, those are people who definitely depended on each other forever. And in a way, that relationship is like their life. So one can't exist without the other. But yeah, I don't know. Also, it's kind of exciting too, because now we're getting to the spot where Rob has never been through these woods, which I was going to ask you, when he's drafting these things, right? Does he go and he, like, I wonder, I'm curious because he's known where to go each time, which means that he's probably gone down roads, right?

And he's like marked which is the correct left and which is the correct right. So I'm wondering how he's going to draft that in real time if he means to get to the end of where he's going. Because now he doesn't know which left or right to actually take. I'm so sad. That was so sad. That last part about the being insufferable and then like him knowing that it's almost like... I feel like Clyde knows there's no like...

There's no wintery bay, right? There's no, like, betterment to what's happening here. I think you always hope for the best thing. In a way, I mean, like, it is sad, but in a way, I don't know. Like, I definitely... It's not like I'm, like, advocating for his suicide in that way, but... Or unaliving. Sorry, YouTube. But I think, like...

I don't know. The part about a person caring about somebody so much that he just wants to be with them in this place, even if he doesn't believe that it's there. I think that, like, there's a bit of peace to that. And I think even Alice kind of understands that in a way, too. Like, if he kept going, it's like he's just going to be lost and miserable and stuff. I don't think that, like, justifies really, like, this kind of, you know, reality that he's getting ready to face, but...

It's very sweet in a way. In a very odd way. At least that's how I read it. Man, that was... Yep. I like... This is such a good story. I like the character moments. I like how it's able to turn. I also suspect Blue Jay let Bonnie go. That's my theory. Because the last person who was talking to her was Blue Jay. And then somehow she's out of the zip ties and steals the car, right? Oh, that's true. I think Blue Jay cut her loose. You...

What's frustrating is that she still has this level of, which I know that this one ended with even Alice being like, you could see that she was like petrified of what she saw. And even Alice makes the thing of like, it'd be hard for her to not realize this is real. Especially if she was responsible for it.

Oh, exactly. Like, she's like, oh, fuck, I caused this. Kind of a very similar thing that Lilith was facing at the beginning of the episode. Yeah, yeah, that's a good juxtaposition. Yeah, Lilith felt responsible, but in different ways. Yeah. Very interesting full circle kind of scenario. But yeah, no, I mean, even at the beginning, though, when she was, like, guilting Lilith, like, look what he's making you do or whatever. Yeah.

It's like, yeah, but did you not just see the person drowning in asphalt before this? Yeah, I was thinking that. It's weird. Why is the ash the unbelievable step, but the asphalt drowning and all that wasn't? I mean, maybe it's just the... I know we've said this before, but the hundreds of miles of unpopulated road. You haven't had to fuel up in how long? It's just like, it doesn't make...

Her speculation doesn't make any sense. I mean, I guess to a point of like maybe to her character, it's trying to be like, oh, well, I'm right. And this guy is a phony. Well, that's kind of what Alice pointed out when she was like, I feel like Blue Jay's gone to a different kind of insanity.

Yeah, total denial. Total and absolute denial is what it feels like. But she might have just got Bonnie killed, so we'll see. I like the way that they go about this, too, of every time people die, it's one less car in the caravan of their group. So once there was five cars, now there's probably only going to be two. Yeah, there's only two now.

Now you have the Jeep and Blue Jays car. That's it. Yeah, because we lost Aces Porsche at Jubilation. We lost both Apollo and Lilith's car at the Asphalt, and we just lost Bonnie and Clyde's car. So there were six, and now we're down to two, just Blue Jays and Rob's.

Yeah, and all that's left is Rob, Alice, Blue Jay, and Lilith. So it seems like each trial, there's just people one by one that are getting kind of picked off. So really interesting. And I mean, you know, we still have 7, 8, 9, and 10 to go through. I'm very curious to see where this goes. There's a lot of story left, so buckle up, our dear listeners. Yep, I'm excited. All right, so...

Opening with part seven. Once again, this is an intro from the person compiling this. Hi guys. Apologies for the... That's such a funny intro after what the text says. Well, yeah. Hi guys. Welcome to the channel. Be sure to hit the sub. Be sure to like, hit that sub button, subscribe, hit that bell for more. Hit the bell. Okay.

Hi guys, apologies for the delay in getting this post up. Events conspired against me, it seems. Please let me know if you have any information. Actually, that intro sounds a bit more worrisome than the previous ones, right? There's no conversation there. He's just kind of like... Well, he's been very nonchalant the last couple ones, but I think like...

I don't know. Like, I mean, like there's sometimes that he says like, Oh, I'm working with the missing part. I'm like, I'm working with the department of missing persons. And then sometimes he's just like, Hey, sorry, I was taking a shit. My bad. And like, it's as casual as that. Like, yeah, I don't know. It's, it's, it's an, I'm wondering if it has any ties in with him at the end. Oh, I did want to mention the last thing I wanted to mention for that last part before I became so depressed when he said 60 years, that took me back. Did you know they were that young?

That young? What do you mean? I'm sorry, that old. That old, I mean. Yeah, they were an older couple. Or an older pair of siblings. I don't think they're as... I was thinking they were like 30. I think Rob is older. No, no, no. I pictured them, yeah, like in their 50s or whatever. Because I think that when they described him, they said they had gray hair and stuff. I still think Rob is the oldest person, though. Yes, because he was in Vietnam. So he's got to be pushing 70, more than that, probably. Yeah, definitely. Yeah. All right, anyway.

We're now on to February 13th, 2017. Left, right game. Woo! All right. Which is the same day, right? They've been on the same... That was the same day as last time, right? Well, a night... Are the days getting longer? Oh, that's a good point. Maybe. But a night did... Wait, a couple of nights passed in the last one, right? Because it was the Eve and Lilith... Or, sorry, the Lilith and Alice part. And then that was the next night we just saw. So, I don't know. Something to keep track of. Okay, we'll see how many days pass in this one.

Part 7. I'm followed back from the junction by an overture of birdsong. I'm grateful for the company. In the wake of Clyde's departure, I'm welcoming of any sound that distracts me from my own solitary footsteps, grasping for any conceivable antidote to the palpable silence he's left behind. I am not, however, as welcoming of what the shrill, melodic warbling represents, the first symptom of impending daybreak.

I'd only been up at this hour a few times before, stumbling back from Nidri Street and down Sweet Market after an unexpectedly heavy night out. My housemates, Molly, Craig, and Tom, would spend the walk joyously discussing the evening scandals, leaning against one another as we all stumbled away from a night of horrific excess. This time around, the circumstances couldn't be more different. I'm quite alone as I make my way up the road, and the only excess in my night has been a restless torrent of stress and melancholy.

There's one similarity, however, resting in the back of my mind as much now as it did then, the nagging feeling that the day ahead will be one of bitter and immediate consequences.

I mean, yeah, she's got to walk back and be like, oh, Clyde's dead, by the way. Yeah, Clyde killed himself. Sorry about that. And I also was there and facilitated it. So that's me present. But I heard his life story, and it was beautiful. But don't worry. He wanted it to happen. As he was disintegrating, he just kept chanting Pog over and over again. It was very...

It was very, very cool. And then finally, as he drew his last breath, he just said, based. And then he immediately disintegrated into fine ash. Pog! Pog! Pog! She's writing in her notes as he's disintegrating. Chat, is this real? Yeah, chat. Chat, is this real? Is this real, chat? Is this real, chat? Is this real, chat? I don't know, chat. I can't believe what I'm seeing. I can't believe what I'm seeing, chat. Is this real? Have you seen the... Oh, okay.

Oh my gosh, I was about to ask if you've seen the animation of XQC. Yeah. Yeah, I've seen it. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, I'm so stupid. For those that don't know, I was just about to ask Hunter if he's seen Hunter's animation. Yeah, I've seen it a couple times. That that meme comes from. Oh my gosh. Alright. Oh, Chet. Chet, I can't believe it's real, Chet. Oh my gosh, Chet.

Wow, Jed, wow. I forget that you're important. Okay. Anyway. As somber as this night has been, I still find myself clinging to it, reluctant to witness the harrowing developments that sunrise will bring. In a few hours time, the convoy will wake up to find that they have suffered yet another loss.

It won't be the brutal, heart-wrenching feeling that they experienced with Eve or Apollo or Bonnie, who perish in front of our eyes, but a muted sensation of gross unfairness. Less immediate, yet all the more insidious. As much as we hate to face the horrors in our lives, it can be far worse when they strike us without our knowing. To find out only the next morning that you have been affected by cruel forces acting in complete disregard of your presence and taking without concern of you.

it's not going to be a pleasant morning nevertheless i glad to see the convoy when it finally comes into view and i will say too i feel bad for rob lilith and lilith not really blue jay because whatever she's a stuck-up bitch but the uh but the uh robin lilith this is now the second time where someone has approached him by being like hey you just woke up someone's gone like someone's dead they had to experience that with bonnie and then now they even had to experience with clive but they didn't get the chance to like try and stop him so yeah

I think it's fair if they're a little mad at Alice. Sure, sure, I think so. I would be. The hulking wrangler rests by the roadside like an old relic. Right now, I can think of nothing more comforting than climbing into its secure, rugged shell. For a moment, I find it strange how an object built for transit has become the one fixed point in my world. Then again, it's not exactly the strangest thing that's happened on this road. Bluejay's car is parked sideways on, laid out across the tarmac.

The windows are shrouded in darkness, yet for the briefest moment, I think I see the red dot of a smoldering cigarette igniting behind the glass, glowing momentarily before dropping out of sight. I fix my eyes on the Wrangler and keep walking, resolved to ignore the ominous flicker of embers and attempting to ignore its uncomfortable implications. Even still, I shudder to think of the grim conclusions that are being drawn within that acrid, smoke-filled echo chamber.

I rest my hands on the jeep's passenger side door, pausing briefly to gauge the sun's progress. I probably have less than two hours before I'll be expected to step over that nascent horizon to let Rob carry me into unknown territory onto the unexplored section of the left-right game. Whatever lies at the end of this ordeal could very well be two roads over. Then again, it could take a whole lot longer. I suppose there's only one way to find out.

I climb quietly into the car and gently position myself next to Lilith. It's cramped, and now that she's had the space to move around, it takes a modicum of contortion to properly lie down, but it feels more comfortable than the prospect of resting on the open space that had been reserved for Clyde. For tonight at least, it would feel like a little too much like resting on a fresh grave. The morning does come quicker than I'd like. Surprisingly, once I awake from a blissfully dreamless sleep, I realize I'm not tired at all.

Perhaps it's going to hit me later in the day, or perhaps the need for sleep is yet another casualty of the road's odd sustaining quality. It's unsettling to think that the road is exerting some metamorphic influence over me, however convenient the effect. After losing most of my need to eat and drink, and now starting to require less rest, I can't help but feel that something wants us to continue on the road, removing everything else that might distract us from the journey.

It's a notion that intrigues and terrifies me in almost equal measure. When I open my eyes, I find myself staring directly at Lilith, who has turned to face me in the night. I can tell she's already awake, quietly resting her eyes, understandably reluctant to face the morning without someone at her side. "Hey. Hey, good morning. How'd you sleep?" "Uh, yeah, not too bad. This place isn't so comfortable. Yeah, you get used to it." The moment of silence passes between us.

I'm already aware of the empty space on the other side of the jeep, hidden just beyond a pile of luggage and jerry cans. It would be easy for me to act surprised at Clyde's absence, to say that I had slept through the night, to throw myself into a fruitless search effort, and to realize the truth alongside everyone else. Part of me wants to avoid the weight of recent events, to step aside and let all the blame fall against the road. That even if I wanted to,

I know it wouldn't be right. I'm not going to contribute a new set of secrets to this journey. Anyway, for all I know, Blue Jay saw me return from the junction. I won't want to give her the satisfaction of catching me in a lie. If I'm going to tell them what's happened, then the conversation will need to happen immediately. Certainly before they have a chance to discover Clyde's absence themselves. The words don't come easily. They're impossible to form into a delicate order, and I quickly realize that any attempt is just delaying the inevitable. In the end, all I can bring myself to say is...

Clyde's gone, Lilith. It takes a few seconds of quiet comprehension before Lilith sets Bolt upright, alarmedly peering over the luggage to Clyde's side of the jeep. Rob! Rob! Lilith. What? What? What's going on? Something took Clyde. Rob is suddenly wide awake as he twists around to view the back section of the Wrangler. I can see the realization dawn on his face as he understands what's happened. He turns back around and fumbles with the ignition. His eyes in the rear view are burning with desperate intention.

He still thinks he can catch up with Clyde before he crosses the threshold. Nothing's taking him, Lilith. Hold on. Rob, he's gone. We don't know that. We just gotta... Rob, he's gone. He already passed the junction. Rob's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, meeting mine. The engine stays running as he turns around to face me. How do you know that? The urgency is drained from the car, replaced instead by a palpable air of inquiry.

Lilith and Rob are both looking at me intently and for the first time on the road, I feel like a figure of a legitimate suspicion. I was with him when he crossed over. What the fuck? When was this? Last night, about 3, 4 AM. He said that he... In response to my words, Rob swings the driver's side door open and leaves the Wrangler. I watch him march out into the center of the road, his entire body tensed and strained by a swell of anger. I quickly climb out behind him. Damn it, Bristol! Why in the hell did you let him?!

You weren't there, Rob. We were fucking yards away, Bristol. You didn't think to wake us up? Of course I did. He told me not to. Oh, okay. Well, that's just fine then, is it? He made his decision, Lilith. None of us were going to stop him. Well, I certainly wouldn't have just let him fucking kill himself. You tie Bonnie to the fucking headset, but let Clyde waltz over the road without telling us? That's a false equivalency. A false... Are you serious? Yes, of course it is.

Bonnie wasn't herself. Clyde was capable of making an informed decision. His sister has just died. Of course he wanted to join her. That doesn't mean you let him fucking die. You might as well have helped him blow his fucking brains out. Lilith! Rob speaks the name harshly, forcing its owner into an immediate silence. After letting the group breathe for a moment, he speaks calmly. Bristol? Are you sure? There was nothing we could do. I look Rob in the eye. His words hit me harder than Lilith's impassionate tirade.

Standing before the both of them at the intersection of their expectant stairs, I feel first inkling of doubt creep into my mind. What would have happened if we'd talked Clyde back into the Wrangler? If Rob had forced him to stay? Could he have found some reason to move forwards if we had kept him for a night? A day? A week? All I could do is hold on to my recollection of the night before, reminding myself of the sense of calm, finality that radiated from Clyde when I confronted him. All I can do is trust that I made the right call. No. No.

No, they wasn't. This is the time when you decide to- I told you it was going to drop at some point. Thank you for not doing it as Clyde was walking off last night. Yeah. Did the thought come to you? Be honest, did the thought come to you to do it then? No, I was honestly waiting to see if you could go to an even way, way down the road kind of thing. And just be like, robot, I think I'm going to make it.

Rob, I think I might need a pint in the bloody way of a bloody skull, mate. Come on. Like, in that moment, so in my head, the, like, I don't know about you, but to me, Bristol slash Alice looks like

the actress who plays her in the Tessa Thompson in my head like it's Tessa Thompson the moment you spoke in that voice it became like Peaky Blinders Cillian Murphy like yeah it just ends up being Cillian Murphy just like transformed no Rob no I don't think there was a thing me could do by order of the Peaky Blinders by way yeah way okay

all right thank you for that yes yes all right so yeah rob just asked his confidant if there was anything they could do about their friend who has decided to take that action and rob says okay well there ain't nothing more to say rob walks back to the wrangler cutting the conversation short through the quiet resumption of his usual morning routine lilith storms back to the car and shuts herself inside i'm left standing in the center of the road wondering if i could feel any more wretched

I know what you did. Blue Jay has devolved into like a goblin. I hate Blue Jay. That's how I picked it. I mentioned her hair's all greasy and she's just like chain smoking cigarettes. She's like, I know what you did. I was going to give her credit if...

Like, after the death of Apollo and them, she had, like, a turnaround. But she's just, like, reinforced her already annoying... She has a narrative that she refuses to back away from. And you know what? Sure, I get it. Real world, it'd be hard to believe this kind of thing. But, like, I mean, like, you know, Alice said, when you're presented with this much evidence, like, okay.

I think you have to have a character that you can hate, and I think that Blue Jay is a fun character to hate right now in the story. It could very well change. I think it will, but we'll see. I think Blue Jay's going to get someone else killed before this is over. Probably Lilith, I'm afraid of. Well, she's already... I mean, I think your theory's right. Like, I think that you find that

She did let Bonnie go. If we count that, then her current kill count is three. Because she killed Ace, because she took her time, right? And they couldn't help him. She got Ace killed, I should say. And then if she released Bonnie, that led to the death of Bonnie and Clyde. So, yeah. You're right. That is three. Yeah. She's a terrible person. She's a terrible person. Yep. Anyway.

Well, at least that answers my question. It seems that while I had been struggling to defend the validity of my actions to Rob and Lilith, Bluejay had very quietly climbed out of her car, waiting patiently for the rest of the convoy to scatter before directing a victorious smile towards me. "Can we not do this, Bluejay?" She responds to my words by ignoring them completely. "I was up in the night, watching you all. What a surprise when I saw you leave with Clyde and come back alone. Calm as a fucking grave."

I don't know if Clyde was in your little game, but he sure as fuck wasn't happy with how far you've taken it. He had to go, didn't he? She's totally delusional. She's like, "Smeagol." She's like, "Smeagol, man." You've killed Clyde because he wouldn't play your game. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like, okay, whatever.

I don't want to dignify her words with a response. In point of fact, I'm not entirely sure what I'd say to such an absurd accusation. Her statement rings with all the trademarks of paranoid conspiracy, the unnatural confidence, the vague language, the frenetic conclusions, which are so obvious to her, yet seem impossible for me to grasp. In the end, Bluejay doesn't wait for my response. I just want you to know that I'm not falling for your fucking game, but you will not turn me around.

And if you try anything like that with me, I will fucking kill you. I stared at the woman before me. Her pupils, two dark pools of venom. Her smile curled into a crooked smirk of an adulterated contempt. That's a great line. Yeah. It's great. I love her pupils, two dark pools of venom. Yeah. Why didn't you talk to the Hitchhiker, Blue Jay? Oh!

Oh, slam dunk! Boom. Boom. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. And boom goes the dynamite. And boom goes the dynamite. Oh, that was good. Bluejay's brow furrows. The smirk degrading from her face. I don't wait for her response. I mean, now that we've seen what happens to people who spoke to him, it's fair to assume you didn't. Or am I wrong?

Bluejay presses her lips firmly together, glaring at me. Yes. The veins at her temples embosed against her taut skin. It's alright, Bluejay. I was scared too. What a fucking dunk! Get shit on, Bluejay! Bro literally had a...

I love that. I love Alice. I love how calculated Alice is whenever stuff starts. Like she doesn't let her emotions get in the way of her. Like she's sitting there saying Blue Jay's like, you killed that person. You're awful. And then Alice is like, you know, come to think of it. Why? When all this started, why were you playing along?

I thought you were a total hypocrite. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. She's she, she believes it, but she's like, like I said, she is completely deranged. She's delusional. And she's like stuck herself to this narrative of like, it's a lie. So it's always going to be a lie. But at the same time, you can tell that she's like fucking horrified. Yep, man. That was good. That was dope.

I really like Alice's character. She's like a smart protagonist. Oh, yeah. I've always said that horror movies are so much more effective to me when the characters are smart. Because when they're dumb, it's easy to write off a lot of the deaths and stuff. But when they're doing everything right, it makes it worse. You know what the thing about that? I don't think that she's done everything right. I think that she just...

she's consistent as a character. I think that she has, she isn't swayed by her motives. And that's the interesting thing. The juxtaposition between blue Jay and Alice is that they both came in with these kinds of motives. And yet blue Jay will refuse to like drop those motives and like kind of give this a chance or be able to like, I think move on. And I think it'll lead to her demise while Alice is, uh,

is not so easily in the camp that she's aware of everything and she's like open to the idea of basically humanity in the situation which I think is why she appears to be such a more compassionate and effective character yeah I agree

uh so after that after that you know bell ringer of a statement yeah i walked to the back of the wrangler where rob has pulled out the stove and four camping chairs after helping him set them in the middle of the road and allowing him to cook me a bowl of steaming hot rice i sat down next to him and eat what i can we can't think of anything to talk about and the two remaining chairs stay empty for the rest of the meal when i climb back into the wrangler lilith seems quiet

She's less angry now, and, as I've seen before with her, is now being forced to confront the feelings her fury had been overshadowing. She shares a look with me in the rearview mirror, a look of being genuinely lost. I find myself reflecting the same expression as I stare back at her, and in that small sliver of glass, I think we both find a glimmer of understanding. An understanding that...

There have been no easy choices on this road and that we should forgive each other and ourselves for the decisions we've had to make. After all, I wouldn't be surprised if there are harder choices ahead.

And not to derail us too much more, but I think it hit Lilith a lot more, too, with Eve being gone and stuff. And I feel like she's in this place where it's like, learn from my mistake. Yeah, when she said that whole phrase that was like, well, his sister just died. What? Do we just let someone do that to themselves? She was kind of talking to herself there. Yeah, she was. Yeah, exactly. Yeah.

Yeah. So I guess that's just what I wanted to say is I just picking up on that. Like I said, we can keep going, but I just, I think that it's, it's why I think it's affected her so much more. And also it's just, I mean, as a ethical, like a morale or ethical situation, it's, it's obviously going to be very divisive. Yeah, I agree.

It takes us less than an hour before we reach the woods. The drive has been predictably bereft of conversation. However, as the cornfields merge into deep green woodland and the thin opening we're supposed to take draws nearer, Rob breaks the silence with a customary all-cars address. Ferryman to all-cars, I just want to say it's an honor taking this next corner with y'all. From here on out, we move slow, port anything unusual, and stay on the lookout for the next turn, okay? Alright, here we go.

Oh, fuck. Here we go. Rob twists the steering wheel. We turn in a slow, deliberate arc towards the gap in the forest. The tarmac disappears below us, giving way to a rough dirt track. A towering legion of knotted trees eclipses the convoy, the sun all but disappearing behind the thick canopy. The significance of this small turn in the road isn't lost on me. We had finally crossed the threshold, into the unknown reaches of the left-right game.

For all we knew, we were the first people to ever have come this far. The first explorers of an entirely uncharted world. I'm not surprised when I realize I've been holding my breath. I examine my compatriots closely. Lilith isn't even looking out the window, lost in her own tumultuous thoughts. Rob is reacting exactly as I expected. Looking out of every window with an air of mystified wonder. Well, I'll be. It's beautiful, ain't it? As I look away from him and back out the windshield, I find myself smiling.

Even after the stressful mornings we've all had and the uncertain day that lies ahead, Rob's statement rings with a joyous sincerity which I can't help but appreciate. I also can't help but agree with him. In its own eerie way, it's a beautiful place. The wrangler moves at a crawl for the rest of the day. The woods are vast and untamable. Thin, swooping branches hang lazily over the road, clattering against the light rig as we pass beneath them.

Many of the trees stand at strange, crooked angles, their various disparate inclines making it impossible to see too far in either direction. Rob spends every moment scanning the sides of the road. The trees that flank us are so thick, so tightly packed together, that it's easy to denote an upcoming turn. I suspect Rob simply doesn't want to take any chance, paranoid as he is about the road's deceptive qualities. He needn't have worried. There are only four turns across this entire afternoon.

Each one is identified far in advance and navigated perfectly. Before I know it, we've entered the early evening with no discernible end to the woods in sight. We've been traveling uphill for a short while, plateauing onto a thin stretch of road, an endless expanse of forest to our left and a dangerously steep bank to our right. With one less side of the road to look out for, Rob seems a little more comfortable holding a conversation. So what are you going to do if you get to the end of the road?

Document it, bring it home, hand it over to the world. And after that? I guess I might take a vacation. Maybe I should visit London. You want to show me around? You've never been to London? I just passed by, carrying packages. Never liked cities so much. Try to stay out of them when I can. I'd go if I had a tour guide, though. Okay, well, that's my next story then. Rob Guthard takes on London. I don't think folk would want to listen to that.

I don't know, I think people would tune in. Or are you just too worried you'll grow to like the place? Junior would never let me hear the end of that. Fair enough. Wait, sorry? My son wouldn't let me forget it. He's always been a city boy. I stare out into the pitch black forest, suddenly thinking back to my arrival in Phoenix, Arizona just five days before. I recollect my formative meeting with Rob Guthrie and how I'd been treated to the briefest overview of his life.

I didn't push for too much detail, wanting to hear the story in his own words, and under the assumption that I could get more background after a short stint on the road, after four days of intrigue and horror and stress, I haven't had time for a follow-up. In all honesty, it's only now I think back on it that I realize just how little ground we covered in our first interview. How eager he was to skip past the formative details of his existence. I didn't know the names of his ex-wives or anyone who wasn't directly involved in his work with the paranormal.

For example, I didn't know he referred to his son as Junior. Often used as a general nickname for a child, it can, every so often, mean something much more specific. "Is... does your son show your name?" Rob turns to me, confused. "Yeah, did I never... Look out!" Rob snaps forwards as a fleeting blur darts across the road, before tumbling down the steep verge to our right. Over the engine, we can hear rustles and thuds as it disappears down the steep hillside and into the deep forest below.

What was that? Was that a deer? That's what it looked like. It went straight off the edge. Why would it do that? Ain't too bright is all. Guys, can we get moving? This is... I'm interrupted by the sound of faint rumbling, emanating from the woods on the left side of the road. What is that? We ain't waiting around to find out.

Oof. Rob kicks the car into gear and pulls down the track. Less than five seconds later, he slams the brake on once more, stalling the car as a small group of three or four deer burst out in front of us. A few more can be heard skittering behind the Wrangler, slamming against the back of the Jeep as they hurriedly negotiate the gap between us and Bluejay. As Rob works to restart the car, I stare out of the window and into the forest, finally aware of what I'm hearing in the trees.

The thunderous sound of hooves hammering against the earth, brushing past the undergrowth, struggling over rocks and branches on their way towards us. In no time at all, the forest erupts from an empty darkness into chaotic, violent life as an unbroken horde of frenzied deer burst out from the trees. Rob tries to tell us to hold on, but he doesn't have time. The path ahead floods with hundreds of stampeding deer, an unbroken torrent that blocks out the headlights beam.

Lilith jumps back from the passenger door as deep, thudding nails vibrate through the Wrangler. The deer, locked in a desperate sprint with little space to maneuver, are running headfirst into the side of the car. One of the smaller deer bolts out of the forest, hits the deep green metal just below my window, the reverberation shaking the glass. I think I hear its neck snap.

the ones i could get past the car aren't faring better locked in a frantic state and forced along by their equally desperate cohorts i can only watch as they spill over the edge of the steep hillside countless bodies crash into the darkness carried down into what i can only assume is a quickly developing mass grave of twisted interlocking bodies rob get us out of here we ain't moving through just stay down what the fuck is somebody help

Bluejay sounds terrified. The wrangler is taking a beating from the onslaught of desperate creatures, but is still managing to hold firm. When I look back towards Bluejay, I see a different story entirely. The car is lying at an angle, pushed towards the edge of the hill by the sheer force of the herd's collective impact. The passenger side is on display, riddled with slick red marks and heavy, craterous dents. The creatures rush past her, clumsily clambering over the hood and hammering into the doors of the car.

Bluejay screams into the receiver, placing a hand over her eyes. As one of her front tires passes over the edge, the car's chassis dropping down into the dirt. Luckily for her, when I turn back to the forest, I can see it's empty dramatically. The flood has subsided, and the last few deer are pelting through the trees and across the road. They're positioned at the back of the herd, providing them with more than enough space to maneuver around the convoy. "Ferriman to Bluejay! Get yourself over here! We gotta go now!"

What the fuck was that? What the f- It was just a herd of deer. Blue Jay, but they were running pretty hard and I ain't looking to meet whatever they were running from. We don't have time to get you back on the road. Get over here now. Nothing more can be heard from Blue Jay's radio except for static and a few intermittent gasps for breathless fear. Ah, damn it. Stay in the car, you two. Lilith, hand me the rifle. I ain't taking any chances out there.

Lilith finds the rifle and hands it over to Rob. Grabbing some supplementary ammo from the glove compartment, Rob climbs out and slams the door, marching through the dirt to Bluejay's ruined car. I clamber into the back of the Wrangler, struggling over a pile of empty jerry cans and surveying the scene as it unfolds. In an almost Herculean effort, Rob wrenches the passenger side door open and holds his hand out for Bluejay to take.

I look on as she unbuckles her seatbelt, climbs out unassisted, and immediately launches herself at Rob, crying her eyes out and lashing at his chest with two clenched fists. She looks distraught, terrified, and violently angry. Rob stands there and takes it, whispering vague assurances to her as she unloads her terror and frustration into every wailing blow. Come on, Blue Jay, we gotta go! Lilith talks under her breath, willing Blue Jay's catharsis to speed itself along.

I look at her, silently sharing her impatience. Then something catches my eye. Something in the distance behind Lilith, slowly making its way through the trees. I turn around and scramble to the front of the car, returning with the radio transceiver. Rob, get back here! There's something in the forest! Hearing my warning crackle out from Bluejay's car, Rob turns in my direction before alarmedly staring into the forest where a pale figure is winding its way towards the pair.

For what I can ascertain, as it briefly leaves the obscuring undergrowth, it seems to be small, tremendously thin, and crawling unevenly on its hands and feet. The creature stops in a clearing ahead of Rob and Bluejay. In view of me and Lilith, but shrouded from everyone in the shadow of the forest. Bluejay separates from Rob, pulling a head torch out of her bag. Slowly, and with trembling fingers, she points the beam towards the creature and switches it on.

The resulting sight is incomprehensible. The beam instantly illuminates the light frame of a thin, almost emaciated child. It's barely over a year old, deathly pale, covered in dirt, its skin stretched taut over frail limbs. It stares up at Blue Jay, reflexively holding one arm over its eyes to shield itself from the bright LED light. Oh my god, what's happening to it? I know exactly what Lilith's talking about.

My hand raises to my mouth as I watch the child struggle through this stream of harsh white light. With every step it takes, the child's form starts to shift and change. Its limbs elongate in jagged, lurching bursts of growth. Anything exposed to the beam develops with grotesque rapidity. It's as if the child is aging before our eyes. Letting out a tortured cry, the creature darts towards Blue Jay, angrily swatting the torch from her grip.

Bluejay screams in shock and pain as she holds her stricken hand, her attention transfixed on the child who has seemingly aged almost three years in a matter of seconds. Even in the fresh darkness, with her head torch fractured on the ground, I can tell that Bluejay is paralyzed with an abject, consuming horror. Rob doesn't hesitate. He reflexively grabs Bluejay and pulls her backwards into the path of her headlights. The creature reaches out for them as they go, one hand passing after them into the light.

It pulls back quickly, its eyes full of heart-wrenching, juvenile tears. The finger of its left hand aged beyond the rest of its body. Its cries begin anew. As ghastly as it seems, the child doesn't seem malevolent or demonic. In fact, as it looks back towards Bluejay, it seems genuinely upset, unable to comprehend the actions of those around him as it stares sorrowfully back at its newly malformed fingers. It's not much of a stretch to assume the transformations are as painful to endure as they are disturbing.

Stay in the lot, Blue Jay. Keep moving. Blue Jay breaks away from behind Rob and sprints towards the Wrangler. As soon as she begins to flee, the child lets out a high-pitched scream and strikes the hood of Blue Jay's car. The impact of the blow is impossibly forceful. In less than an instant, the chassis crumbles into a mass of jagged metal. The one remaining headlight disappears from view as the car is launched off the path and rolls into the valley below.

With Rob and Blue Jay now returned to the darkness, the child skitters quickly towards Blue Jay, grabbing her foot as it lifts off the ground and yanking it backwards. With all her momentum immediately halted and one foot taken out from beneath her, Blue Jay has nowhere to go but down. She slams into the earth, her chin bouncing off a sharp rock.

Blue Jay looks up at us with stunned pleading eyes. Lilith and I have only a few seconds to meet her gaze before she is dragged backwards along the ground. She screams in pain, her ankle caught in the child's iron grip. It doesn't even break pace as it walks back towards the woods, pulling Blue Jay along like a rag doll. Rob reaches out for her, snatching for Blue Jay's hand as she rise and thrashes against an unstoppable force. They connect briefly, but Rob's effort to keep a hold of her is futile.

Oh god.

Lilith turns away from the window, cowering away from the insanity outside the car. I can barely watch myself as Rob places his finger on the trigger. The shot never comes. Bluejay shrieks as the child reaches the tree line, pulling her into the undergrowth. Rob's hands are shaking, unable to do what needs to be done. Cursing loudly at the air itself, Rob lets the rifle fall to the ground. He stands immobile as Bluejay's screams continue to emanate through the trees.

His expression has been worn by everyone on the road. Like all of them, he's no longer present, lost to a realm of hopelessness and bewilderment. But unlike many others, he doesn't stay that way for long. Unlike the rest of us, Rob Guthrid manages to bring himself back. Bristol, there's a torch in the green bag! Get it now! I don't have time to hesitate. I scour the contents of the Wrangler desperately. Bluejay screams, growing increasingly distant with every passing second.

Locating a large green bag in the far corner, I crawl across the wrangler, unfasten the straps, and spill its contents into the car. A heavy-duty LED torch clangs against the cabin floor, and I snatch it up before it can roll away. Returning to Rob, I swing the back doors open and jump out onto the dirt track, throwing the torch behind Rob's outstretched hand. As soon as he catches it, Rob sprints out into the forest, leaving me and Lilith behind. The events that unfold among the trees are told to us in sound and light.

After almost a minute of silence, the torch's ray bursts through the trees. Bluejay's distant screeching intensifies as the child breaks into a gut-wrenching cry. A large crash echoes through the night air, the sound of bark cracking as the very trees shatter into splinters. The light dances chaotically as Rob lets out a cathartic, damaged roar. Suddenly, the child's desolate wailing grows more distant, retreating deep, deep into the woods. Then suddenly, silence.

"Bristol, what's happening?" "I don't know. Stay in the car!" We wait for what seems like an age, lost in worry, before the gentle rustling of undergrowth calls our attention back to the treeline. A moment later, Rob emerges from the trees, holding Bluejay's arm around his shoulder. "Oh, thank god! Oh, thank god!" The pair stumbles over to us, slowly and painfully.

Bluejay walks with a limp. Her ankle is already horribly bruised. Rob sports a series of cuts across his face, but seems otherwise unharmed. He calls back to us, utterly exhausted. Nothing to it! Yo!

badass just when i think i'm out he pulls me back in just when i think rob's like maybe evil or whatever that was so cool well for a second i thought he was just gonna like not i thought he was just gonna let her go or something like that i think he did the math that the shot may not do anything but he's like flashlight the light is gonna be and then he like goes over the tree line and you hear screaming and shouting man that's cool uh not to do it oh man

Maybe I'm back on. Maybe Rob's wanting me back over a bit. That was really cool. Okay. Okay.

Bluejay falls to the floor, slipping free of Rob's grip and unable to hold her own weight. Rob turns around to look for where she's fallen, finds her crawling slowly towards the steep verge. Bluejay! Denise! You okay? Bluejay stops crawling, places her hands on the ground, and rises unsteadily. Oh no. I suppose she can stand on her own after all. When she's finally upright, she turns back towards Rob, raising his rifle to her shoulder and fixing it on his torso. Oh my god.

If this happens, I'm going to be furious, okay? My smile vanishes. Denise, what are you... Put it down. It was a child, Rob. It was a child. What did you... Oh my God, Bristol, what's happening? Stay in the car, Lilith. Denise, you've seen it just as much as me. You saw what it did. It tore at my... It broke the skin. How? Why are you doing this?

Denise, Denise, you know what you saw, okay? You know this is real. We ain't doing this to you. It's happening to all of us. It's Rob stares at Blue Jay, then down to the rifle. The sight's boring onto his chest. Okay, okay. How about we turn the car around? Right now. I'll turn this around and I'll take you back home and I'll drop you off outside the tunnel. Safe and sound. Just want to get you home safe. What do you say? Okay.

Bluejay looks into Rob's eyes. The rifle quivers in her hands. We all wait, scarcely taking a breath, for Bluejay's response. "No." "I don't believe you." "Oh! I'm- I'm- I'm actually upset. I'm- I'm like- I'm- I'm pretty mad, okay." The shot echoes around us. Rob falls to his knees. A look of surprise and disbelief carved into his face.

A plume of dark red blossoms around his shoulder. There's no air in my lungs. My entire body is paralyzed by the shock, by the rank unfairness, the sheer impossibility of the scene before me. I still don't understand how it could possibly be happening. Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! No! Bluejay quickly paces up to Rob, snatches a handful of ammunition from his breast pocket, and reloads the rifle with practice deficiency.

She stops shaking. In fact, there's a calm conviction to her movements, which convinces me with shocking immediacy that I might be about to die. Where's the, bring the baby back, bring the baby back and take her back into the woods. Let her die. My God. I'm so mad right now. I can't even form. I hate her. I hate her so much. I'm just going to keep reading. Okay. Yeah, go ahead. I dive back into the Wrangler slamming the door shut behind me. I find Lilith gripped by an immediate immobilizing shell shock.

Oh, thank God! Oh, she shot him in the shoulder. Okay. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. His left shoulder. Okay.

I thought, sorry, hold on. I thought Rob died like that. No, no, no. I was going to start throwing stuff. I was about to be. No, no. He got shot in the shoulder. Okay. I think he's just in pain. That's fine. That's fine. Yeah. This is okay. Hold on. But still, I don't know what she's going to do. I need to breathe. I'm so. While you breathe, I'm still in a state of like, I'm worried for Lilith. I feel like Alice is going to get out of this, but I'm worried that something's going to happen here where.

So I don't feel good about this situation. There's no way she can do this and move on. Like, I think something is going to happen still. Blue Jay's going to die here, I predict. I think either Lilith or Alice is going to die. I want the child to come back and rip her fucking face off and drag her back into the woods. That's what I want. That was like... Okay, so she's had a series... Blue Jay's character has had a series of opportunities to be redeemed, right? From...

watching Eve and Apollo die to, uh, witnessing what happened with Bonnie and stuff. She's had a series of chances and she keeps rejecting them. So this is her final, like there's no forgiveness for what she's doing here. Right. Right. No. Well, she's totally, I mean,

I mean, we have seen her go completely full circle and she's completely delusioned. I mean, like, she's horrified. You feel like there's a bit of humanity of, like, Rob going and, like, you're like, okay, she's going to be sympathetic towards him now because he, like, saved her or whatever. I was going to give her a break if she, like, was saved or died during the deer or the baby dragging her away.

I was thinking it would be like, okay, that's her last chance to come back to the story. And she didn't. So now she has to die. Like narratively, she can't be allowed to continue. Right. Um, I don't think so. I don't think in a reasonable way. I don't think so, but we have to push on. We have to say, I feel so much better that he's not dead. Okay.

Okay, because I really like Rob's character. I was going to be so mad if he dies in part seven to her. Anyway. All right. Continue. Sorry. I'm going to go back to the lion for Aliso. She says, no, no. She was going to shoot Rob in the chest, but she aimed away last minute. She's just bargaining. Bargaining? She wants us to out of the car. I think she's going to take the Wrangler. If she leaves us here, we'll die anyway. I know. Well, we can't fight her. One of us will. Get the fuck out of the car. Both of you. I want your hands where I can see them.

It's okay, it's okay. Here, take this. I reach down and grab the walkie-talkie, pressing it into Lilith's hand. It's a short sprint to the tree line. We need to get around the hood of the car, then we get into the woods as soon as there's an opening, okay? I can't do this, Bristol. Uh-oh, we're getting... Oh, here it goes. Here we go again. I can't do this. Very similar thing to Eve. I'm sorry, Lilith. You're going to have to.

I gently open the driver's side door, climbing out and edging along the muddy verge, keeping low to avoid Bluejay's line of sight. Lilith climbs out after me, closing the door softly behind us. Without making a sound, conscious of every rustling leaf that passes underfoot, I gesture for us to make our way around to the wrangler's hood. Lilith goes first, staying below the windows, working her way to the front of the car and passing around the corner. From the hood of the wrangler, we'll be able to make a beeline to the trees. Don't play fucking games with me.

Before I can make my way around to join Lilith, Bluejay's impatience boils over. I can hear her footsteps on the rough ground as she makes her way over to the Wrangler. The situation rapidly spiraling further from my control. There's only one thing I can do to stop her discovering the both of us. We're coming out! I raise my hands and stand up, making my way to the back of the Wrangler. Bluejay stops walking before she gets far enough to notice Lilith.

She turns to face me, raising the rifle to her shoulder. A moment later, I hear Lilith burst out from her hiding place, sprinting into the trees. Bluejay quickly realizes what's happened, and with a yell of violent frustration, turns the rifle to face the tree line. Lilith has already disappeared into the dark forest, out of range and out of sight. I chose not to attempt to rush Bluejay in the midst of the distraction, and I'm right not to. Realizing Lilith is lost to her, Bluejay quickly spins back towards me and levels the rifle at my chest. "I knew you were all into this together."

You fucking monsters. Her eyes are practically bulging from their sockets. Her entire face contorted into malicious, sickeningly righteous hatred. After all these days on the road, I've never seen something quite like this. You're not well, Blue Jay. No. No. I'm just not willing to fall for your fucking tricks. How could this all be a trick, Blue Jay? How? Apollo, Eve, Bonnie. You saw what happened to them. It's beyond our understanding. Mine and yours. There's no such...

There's no such thing as fucking magic. Only fools and fucking frauds. There it was. In one sentence, the trigger for Blue Jay's creeping insanity. The inflexible belief that had broken her mind against a maelstrom of contradiction.

As far as Blue Jay was concerned, we were the only monsters on this road. This wasn't madness. It was self-defense.

She laughs, a sarcastic, ugly chuckle, holding the rifle tight against her shoulder.

I step back- I step backwards, allowing gravity to carry me over the threshold of the steep, dark slope. Oh! In the last few seconds before I topple- wait a minute. I clen- hold on. I- I toppled into darkness. I clenched the fingers of my left hand.

... ...

End of part seven. Okay, hold on. The reason I was laughing at the end, I thought, you remember the C4 she took at the beginning of the story? Yeah. I thought she was about to blow up Blue Jay, is what I was laughing about. You lack imagination. Exactly. That's what I thought was happening. And she blows up a woman.

That's why I was laughing. What's interesting about this one is nobody... So we have by far our coolest looking creature of when it's in the light, it ages and grows rapidly. And it's like this pale creature walking along and like thousands, hundreds if not thousands of deers run across and it's like haunting this extensively dark forest, right? Yeah.

yeah but i like the character of blue jay um not as a character i hate her but i just mean in in the aspect of a completely deranged monster like she is now an inhabitant of this road exactly yeah i view her the same way i view the hitchhiker or something at this point yeah um now what's interesting about the end of this is we're going into part eight there's two parts left after this um

is that we don't know essentially now Rob is at the mercy of Blue Jay and the gun Lilith is hiding in the forest as well and now Alice is just like kind of just falling over the edge and just being like whatever is over this edge I'm gonna die either way but I would rather just like get away from this and see if I can survive yeah so she dropped over the cliff holding the key ring so now Blue Jay cannot steal the Wrangler Rob's on the ground

And the two others are now laying in the woods. Okay. Sick. All right. So now we're into part eight here. The continuation. I'm just ready to go full into it. I'm extremely interested to see what happens. Part eight. Here it goes. And then I'm very curious after reading that what the main guy says. The guy who's uploading the stuff. This is my favorite part after having tragic endings. He's like, hey guys, so...

Um, just went to the store today. Have a nice day. You're like, okay, what? Are you reading this? I'm still laughing over the idea of Alice being like, you lack imagination. Boom! You lack imagination. Boom! Kills Blue Jay, herself, Rob, and the jeep. Yeah. In. It just says Finn. Yeah, that's the end of it. You lack imagination.

You lack imagination. Yeah, just... Yeah, do you want to know how I got these scars, Blue Jay? Denise, do you want to know how I got these scars? You see, my father was a bit of a drinker. Which do you prefer? Actually, here's the thing before we get into it. Do you prefer Joaquin Joker or do you prefer Heath Ledger Joker? They're two different instruments for two different jobs. Well, that's not the question. Which one...

Which one do you like more? Say it with your chest. Gosh, they're such different characters. I guess I like the ledger one more because I feel like it's more timeless. I really love the Joaquin one, but to be honest, you

You don't have to sway me, man. I prefer Ledger Joker as well. That's all we need to know. To me, walking doesn't do anything that a character like Travis from Taxi Driver doesn't do. But I feel like Heath Ledger's Joker is more of a full flamboyant interpretation of just chaos. Wants to crumple the system, whatever it costs. I used to have a...

a Heath Ledger poster in my room that said, why so serious? Written in blood. Yep. Classic. So, you know. That, I don't have a, let me just say I don't have a Joaquin poster, so. I think that speaks volumes. Tells you things. Says some things, you know, I don't know. Anyway, where are we? What are we doing? Oh yeah, left right game. Hello. Left right game.

Next time you see Blue Jay, she's wearing Joker face paint. Yeah, she has a purple trench coat. Yeah, going through the trees. I'm a pariola running the game and I'm just here to throw a wrench in your plans. Why so serious? She's dragging Rob by his ankle. He's like bleeding all over. They drag through the woods. Why so serious? She can't stand the sight of me anymore.

And then, uh, and then what the fuck's his name? Who's the British guy in that movie? Michael Caine. Michael Caine's like, Some people just want to watch the world burn. I saw a baby holding an emerald the size of a tangerine. Some people just want to watch the world burn. Your British accent. They revolve towards, like, unintelligible. That's exactly what Michael Caine sounds like in those movies. Mashed to white. Mashed to white.

There was a jewel thief down in Panama. Okay. All right. All right. Party. Here we go. All right. Anyway. Introduction. Hi, guys. Mr. Rufflewaffle is here. Hi, guys. Apologies for the removal of this slog a second ago. Not sure why that happened. And I should also apologize for the delay in posting recently.

Well, this guy's dead.

hope yeah he's definitely going to die part 10 is going to be a sad day for him yeah hopefully once i'm there i might be able to make some real headway in the meantime please keep any and all insights coming however small i really do read all of them okay here's the next log all right we are now on this one's valentine's day funny enough february 14th 2017 now into a new day in a new day in a new forest in a new land yep here we go

Also, for the next one, since you know he's British too, for the next two, since it's the last two, can you read the first part in a British accent? So I'm not the only one. Okay. I'll read the last sentence for you so you can get a taste. No, no, no. No, no. Just wait until part nine. Okay. Here's the next log. I can't...

Hold up, hold up, hold up. G'day, mate. That's Australian. You know what? It's close. I might. It's close. I can't. I can't. Hey, okay, mate. It should be Australian, isn't it? Okay. All right. Okay. Here's the net. I can't. I'll try. I'll try. We'll see what we get there. Good lord. Whew.

I'm gonna, you thought, they thought your British accent was offensive. They haven't seen anything yet. I'm gonna make them completely. There better be some justice for me in the comments, Dan. I'm gonna make them completely indiscernible. Okay. All right, here we go. In the brief interlude before I hit the ground, I find myself alone with the stars. As I fall backward towards the slope, my gaze rising to meet the night sky, I feel a sudden weightlessness take hold, as if I'm being granted an audience with the heavens.

The rich and endless firmament shines down through the canopy, with no earthly light to dull its glow. Despite everything that's happened, I'm unable to ignore how magnificent it all is, how gracefully detached from the ugliness below. Though the moments last no more than a second, it feels longer, like I've been gifted some pleading respite, a transient sliver of time in which to appreciate the calm and quiet cosmos, a moment to escape, however briefly, from the events that are to come.

I don't know how much longer the moment might have lasted. I suppose I never will. It's with a sense of genuine sadness that I turn myself away, twisting my body around in midair. The stars disappear from view, and I am left staring down the slope into the valley's dark, uncompromising depths. My commune with the heavens has ended, and I return to the cold, unforgiving earth. It doesn't welcome me back.

I hit the slope. Man, she must have been falling for a while, huh? Yeah, I mean, if she had glide time, I'm gonna guess... To have that kind of... Yeah, I'm gonna guess she lives because the dead deer break her fall. Or she impales herself on all the antlers. Yeah, she's gotta break a bone or something. At least, right? I hit the slope. Yeah, she's gotta break a bone or something, I think.

Definitely. Is that me? Is that what you're doing? Is that me? Is that my voice? Stop that. Cut that out. Hey! You kids quit that. Hey! No, I don't like the direction. It's funny when we're making fun of the British people. Cut that out. I hit the slope, immediately bouncing off one shoulder and landing on the other. That's what I think of immediately bouncing. Boing!

Thank you. Thank you. That's the sound people make when they hit the ground really hard. Yeah. Yeah. Minecraft Steve noise. Okay. Barely forcefully and unstoppably downhill. My entire body is thrown into chaos, tossed into a frenetic, uncontrollable dance swept along by the rushing earth towards the impatient Valley floor.

The back of my ankle flails against a hard, jagged rock. My face rolls into a small bloom of stinging nettles, their caustic leaves scraping against my cheek. I battle to bring order to my descent, my hands grasping at the undergrowth, clawing through loose soil in a frenzied search for stability. Rocks and dirt cascade around me as I pull myself onto my back, finally managing to descend with my feet pointed downhill.

Oof.

I can make out the bodies of the deer who made this hazardous journey before me. I can hear the pained brain of the survivors moaning and how in hollow resignation as they struggle to stand on broken legs. A moment later, I joined them. The slope doesn't level out gradually just before the bottom, the sharp incline I've been hopelessly traversing drops off into a sheer rock face before I can stop myself. I'm launched from the slope, kicking dirt into the air.

I spend the final three meters in freefall before landing on my hands and knees, my whole body subject to a complete bone-rattling halt. My body tensed and aching, I pick myself up off the valley floor. The second I stumble onto my feet, a harsh beam of torchlight strikes the ground to my right. My muscles groaning, I jump back against the natural rock wall as the light swings my way, sweeping directly over the spot where I just landed. Bluejay is looking for me.

I would have expected nothing less. The beam glides along the ground, scanning the base of the slope, lighting up the twisted bodies of countless deer. Fortunately, the shadow cast by the rock wall offers a measure of sanctuary, shielding me from the torch's restless glare. About half a minute after it arrived, the beam rises through the trees and cuts out.

I don't expect her to come after me. I certainly don't expect her to drop down the slope. Perhaps she could walk back down the road, taking a gentler route downhill, and pursue me through the valley once it levels out, but the walk would probably take half an hour each way. If I were her, I wouldn't want to leave the wrangler unprotected for that long. Despite the fact that she's showing no signs of entering the valley, Bluejay is clearly eager to locate me. The torch suddenly illuminates the damp soil ahead of me as she points it back down into the valley.

I suspect she turned it off just long enough for me to feel overlooked, allowing me to consider stepping out in the open. I also suspect that, should the torchlight find me scrambling around on the valley floor, a bullet will quickly follow it, putting me down to lie with the deer. From that point, all she needed to do was walk down and slip the wrangler's key from my cold, limp fingers.

Catching my breath, my back pressed against the rough rock wall, I run through my current priorities. I need to stabilize Rob. I need to lure Bluejay away from the Wrangler. And most pressingly, I need to contact Lilith. Okay, so one second. So she is off the beaten path of this thing, which before when Apollo did that, he was sunken away. Well, the difference is that's a wrong turn.

She hasn't made a wrong turn. She's still on the roadside. It's if you start heading the wrong direction entirely. Now, if she takes off and just runs directly into the valley, then she'll probably get something. But it's like the road senses your objective almost. If you make a wrong turn, you're dead. Yeah, but she hasn't turned per se. I see. Okay.

Catching my breath, my back pressed against the rough rock wall, I run through my current power- oh wait, I already read that. I reach to the back of my waistband, my hands searching for my personal walkie-talkie. My fingers touch denim, finding an empty space where the transceiver should be. My stomach drops as I search along my back. It's gone. I'd had it with me when I dropped onto the slope, but at some point during my furious descent, it must have gotten away from me. The torchlight swings back around once more.

The torchlight disappears once more.

Yeah, so, yeah, Blue Jays got it.

The entire car has been stopped mid-fall, resting precariously on its side, the vehicle's crooked undercarriage crumpled around the trunk of an old and battered tree. If I'm gonna get in touch with Lilith, I'm gonna have to climb up there. I edge along the rock until Bluejay's car is almost directly uphill from me. Turning around and running my hand against the damp, shrouded wall, I'm able to discern a few passable handholds. Placing my fingers into a large grove above my head, I jam my boot onto a small outcrop just above the wall and push myself upwards.

It isn't an easy climb. My hands are cold, my arms are tired, and I'm certainly not wearing the right shoes. My boots repeatedly slip from their holds, causing my arms to throb as they're forced to bear my weight. After painstakingly scraping up the first two meters, I run out of places to put my hands, my outstretched fingers falling roughly 10 inches short of the top.

I take a quick breather, letting both arms straighten as I lean back and observe the wall above me. As the torch sweeps past overhead once more, it illuminates a small twisted root on the very edge of the cliff. I have no idea if I can reach it, and there's every chance it will give way immediately, causing me to topple helplessly back to the earth. However, I can feel my grip weakening, a noticeable ache running up my forearms. I'm not going to be able to stay where I am much longer, and I suspect I won't have the energy to make it this far again.

edging my feet up, scrabbling the side of my boot against the wall until it sticks in place. I bend my legs slightly, poising myself to make the jump. Gritting my teeth and with a sharp, tentative intake of breath, I swing myself up into the air and let go of the wall. I feel grossly vulnerable, hanging in the air with nothing but a harsh fall below me and harrowing climb waiting above. I throw my arms forward as I hit the peak of my jump and just manage to catch the root with both hands.

A heavy jolt wretches my shoulders, threatening to yank me back to the ground. Fear and adrenaline alone sustain my desperate grip, my arms on fire as I swing my leg up to the ledge, hooking my heel over the top after a few clumsy attempts. I force myself over the edge and onto the soft soil, just in time for the torchlight to start circling back towards me.

With one final surge of effort, I push my aching body upright and struggle over the nearest tree. Failing at its base and pressing myself against the bark, the light travels quickly. The tree's darkening shadow swings over from the right, covering me, and then fading again as it stretches out to my left. The light leaves me in darkness, certain to return soon as Bluejay continues her frenzied surveillance. It's started to rain a little. A few sporadic droplets fall through the sparse canopy and land on my outstretched palm.

It doesn't take long before these scouts are reinforced by a steady downpour, drumming against the leaves and grass, soaking through the loam. The already punishing incline is going to prove completely unclimbable if the rain has enough time to slick in the grass and pound the soil into mud. I also doubt I'll be able to make the initial climb again, especially if the rock wall becomes coated in a layer of cold rain. As much as I have to move quickly up to the car, I also need to move carefully. It's becoming increasingly clear that this will be my only attempt at reaching the radio.

The vehicle is only a short climb away. I can see its undercarriage laying against the tree, and the entire left side of the vehicle is pressed into the ground. Only now I'm nearby do I hear the ominous creaking sound that emanates from the car, as it rocks almost imperceptibly around a thin focal point.

I wait for the torchlight to swing past me more before pulling myself out from the shadow of the tree. My dirt-covered hands grasping at any conceivable purchase, I crawl up to the bank towards Bluejay's vehicle. My feet slip on the grass with every other step as the rain seeps into the ground, soaking through my fleece. I'm completely exposed as I make my way on towards the car.

Though it remains a constant concern, the torch seems to be exploring another section of the hill as I arrive beneath the chassis, the undercarriage looming imposingly over me. I briefly glance up to check on Bluejay's movements, then, slowly, setting myself against the incredible incline, I climb out into the open once more and pull myself up until I'm in line with the warped, twisted hood.

Blue Blue Jays transceiver is still fastened within its dock. Despite the car's battered condition, the windshield is frustratingly intact with nothing more than a small jagged irregular hole near its center. It will take a bit of maneuvering, but it should be just big enough to reach through and pull the radio free.

Slowly and tentatively, I thread my arm through the center of the opening, shards of serrated glass encircling my skin. My hand reaches the dashboard, slowly brushing along its surface towards the walkie-talkie as I lean into the car. The torchlight starts to swing back across the hill. Bluejay is walking along the ledge in a frantic mission to find me. In my current position, out in the open and trapped in a slow, delicate procedure, there's no way I can get out of the way in time.

I hand grasp the transceiver as the light reaches me. Though I'm ashamed to admit it, for a brief moment, drowned in the revealing glare of the torch's beam, I'm stunned into inaction. The light has stopped moving, fixed directly on me, casting my stark shadow down into the valley. I can imagine Bluejay's triumphant glare as her desperate search is finally rewarded.

Returning to my senses all too late, I grip my teeth and wrench the walkie-talkie from its dock. With no time for grace or care, I retract my arm from the windshield, inhaling sharply as an apparent shard of glass scrapes across the back of my hand. Turns out I have greater things to worry about, as I hear a loud bang from up on top of the hill, followed instantaneously by a disgusting zipping sound that flashes past my ear. I flinch instinctively from the noise, my sudden reaction causing my boots to give way beneath me.

I slam into the earth and career down the hill. What little control I have over the slope, I give away in a desperate bid to roll into the car's shadow and out of the light. I don't have time to right myself as I'm dragged chaotically down towards the valley and cast over the edge once more. The base of the valley flashes into view mere seconds before my body slams into it. The air is ripped out of my lungs, my pained cry forming a visible plume of steam that dissipates into the cold night air.

I lay on my side, cradling the walkie-talkie in my hands. At the very least, I'd managed to keep a hold of it. The torch dances erratically around my position. I pick myself up and drag my body the last few meters, collapsing against the wall as a torch beam lights up the ground in front of me. As I raise the radio, I realize my hands are violently shaking. I don't think I've ever been as close to death as when the bullet passed by me. And although the noise itself died quickly, its horrific implications echo in my skull.

This is Bristol to Lilith. Bristol to Lilith, do you copy?

The radio cackles as I release the button. I wait 20 interminable seconds for Lilith to respond. She doesn't. This is Bristol to Lilith. Can you hear me? This time I let a minute pass. Still nothing. Everything I've been struggling for since I jumped into the valley has come up against a wall of silence. I feel a well of frustration inside me. It isn't fair. Jin! Jin, are you there? Another minute goes by.

I sit in silence the whole time, watching as the radio I risk my life to collect transforms into a useless hunk of plastic. After a while, I loosen my grip and let it drop to the wet soil. I bring my legs up to my body, wrap my arms around them, and rest my head against my knees. In a moment of rest, my breathing becomes shallow. I set a fresh tear swell up behind my eyes, spilling out down my face. The rain falls around me as I quietly cry, sitting in the middle of a dark forest, muddied, injured, and alone.

I'm ripped out of my melancholy as the rain is blasted in every conceivable direction, whipping against my face and splattering against the rock with incredible force. The air is whipped into a furious maelstrom, and a familiar, booming sound crashes through the aether. "I've watched you struggle." As soon as it arrives, the voice is gone. The wind quiets down and the rain begins to drop vertically once again. "Hello? Hello? Who is that?" The air is still, absent of everything but the rain.

I wipe the tears from my face as I call out to the air. Can you help me? Please, can you just... The voice has disappeared, and I suspect I won't be hearing it again anytime soon. Perhaps it just wants me to know that it's watching. One thing is certain, if the voice is attempting to bring me comfort or make me feel less alone, its methods are horribly misguided. Alice, are you there? My eyes fixate on the crackling radio.

Alice, are you still there? I'm sorry I couldn't- Jyn! Jyn, are you okay? Are you safe? Yeah, I'm okay. I thought you were- What happened to you? I jumped down the hill, got Bluejay's walkie. She shot at me. How have you been? She's gone fucking crazy. I made it to a clearing in the woods. It's straight on from the car. Or at least I hope it is. I still haven't seen that- that thing anywhere. Well, it's a big forest. Maybe it's gone-

Yeah, you too, Jyn.

I fasten the radio to my waistband. My body still aches from the fall, blood dripping slowly from my hand, and my fingers are almost numb from the cold. Yet, hearing Lilith's voice on the other end of the radio has brought back something I lost in the valley. A sense of resolve that jumpstarts my tired muscles, pushes me to my feet, and sets me off to rejoin Rhode.

Question. Where is Rob at this point? As far as we know, bleeding on the pavement next to the Wrangler. Okay. Alright. As far as we know. I mean, maybe Bluejay's dragged him. The way Bluejay's acting, they're going to get up there. Rob's going to be crucified on a cross she built. Yeah, like upside down or something. Yeah, exactly. Can't you see? I'm the sane one. I'm the only one that gets what's coming. You guys are acting crazy! Yeah, yeah. Pretty much.

As far as we know, he's still on the ground, though. Yeah. Okay. I'm still stuck in the middle of a dark forest. I'm still muddied, bloodied, and injured, but I'm no longer alone. It isn't long before my boots hit asphalt. I follow the road, sticking to the tree line as I work my way back up the hill. I'm reluctant to place myself within sight of the Wrangler, where Bluejay will almost certainly be camped out and waiting.

Unfortunately, it's the only point of reference in an otherwise unknowable forest. The only location from where Lilith's location can be divined. Once the road levels out, I take the precaution of heading deeper into the trees. The road is almost impossible to see now, but I'll need the cover if Bluejay is still on the lookout. Even though I'm only a few meters deep, the woods fill me with a palpable sense of unease. Every shadow feels predatory. Every twig that snaps under my foot sounds like the crack of a whip. When the wrangler comes into view, Bluejay is nowhere to be seen.

Hmm.

Yeah, I mean, I figured that would happen. Yeah. Yeah.

When I'd reached the bottom of the hill, I'd correctly calculated that the number of active radios arriving at the conclusion that only me and Lilith would be able to communicate. Technically, I'd been right. We were the only two who could talk, but that didn't mean we were the only ones who could listen. I'd forgotten that the CB radio in Rob's car had its own independent battery and inbuilt speakers. Most importantly, he'd been using it throughout the trip to broadcast and receive across all our frequencies.

I switch the frequency of the walkie to a random channel, lift the receiver to my mouth, and hold the talk button. Bristol to all cars. My voice crackles out of the CB radio. Bluejay must have known I was going to contact Lilith, and she'd broken into the wrangler to spy on the conversation. I can't believe I didn't think about it before now. I switch the radio back to Lilith's frequency.

She's a super villain. "My heart sinks." "Now it makes sense why Bluejay wasn't guarding the Wrangler." "She'd eavesdropped onto my conversation and, instead of waiting for me to get back up the hill, she gone after Lilith."

Despite all my efforts, all my good intentions, I let Blue Jay write to her. Blue Jay, where's Lilith? She's here. I hear a refrain of quiet sobbing in the background of the call. I can hear Lilith meekly calling my name. Okay, okay, let me speak to her. What? No, no, no. You're not going to trick me again, Alice. You don't get to confer. You get to bring me the key to my fucking car. And then you get to walk yourselves back home. Now what about you do-

Now what about that do you need fucking discuss? Bluejay, this is... We're not your enemy, Denise, okay? Please, you have to believe me. You think I'll ever believe a fucking word you say? Bring me my fucking keys, and if you pull any more tricks, I will put a bullet in your fucking skull. Now do you believe that? She waits patiently for my answer. I suddenly feel like we've entered an entirely new realm.

Bluejay has the upper hand, and under the threat of fierce, unthinkable consequences, we've become the subjects of her domain. Reason, diplomacy, and sanity no longer hold sway over proceedings. As long as she has Lilith remains at the end of that rifle, I'm beholden to her madness. Fine. Okay, I'm on my way. Good. You need to remember, Alice, I didn't want any of this. You brought me here. Bluejay lets go of the button, returning me to a familiar silence.

If I keep the keys from her, Lilith will be at her mercy, and although Bluejay can't really afford to kill her bargaining chip, I have no doubt she'll be willing to hurt her as much as she needs in order to force my compliance. If I let her take the Wrangler, however, we're both dead anyway. I take a moment to think through my options. It doesn't take long. There aren't that many left. My journey through the forest is uncomfortable and rings with an unsettling finality, like a guilty child heading towards an unavoidable reckoning.

I'm overcome by a pervasive dread which builds with every shuffling step. I do my best to keep the wrangler behind me, carving a straight line through the woods. All in all, it takes less than five minutes before the clearing opens up ahead of me. Bluejay is planted in the very center of a large glade, leading too much exposed ground in every direction for me to even contemplate an ambush. Rob's torch lies at her feet as she keeps both her hands firmly wrapped around the rifle.

Lilith kneels beside her, the barrel of the gun placed against her temple, her tear-stained face contorted by a mixture of despair and vitriolic anger. Her hands rest against her lap, her wrists bound by the same brands of cable ties I'd use to restrain Bonnie. I can imagine Blue Jay bristled with the poetic justice when she ordered Lilith to fasten the bands around her wrist. They both see me as soon as I step out of the trees. You're late. I got turned around. Lilith, are you okay? Stop walking. Stop walking!

Bluejay grips the rifle more tightly, sending me an unignorable message. She keeps me at a good distance, she knows it takes her a second or two to reload the rifle, and she wants me far enough back to allow time for at least two consecutive shots. Everything she does, every action she takes, demonstrates that she's preparing to act swiftly against us, should anything untoward take place. Lilith, are you okay? I'm okay, I'm okay. Hand over the keys, Alice. Bluejay, take her back with you, please.

You don't have to let her- You can drop her off at a police station as soon as you're home. But just... take her home. Hand me the fucking keys. Fine. I have it in my bag, let me- Hey, hey! What are you doing?! Bluejay snaps at me as I reach into my bag, pointedly jabbing the rifle against Lilith. Lilith cries with distress as the barrel repeatedly prods her temple. I take my hand out of my bag and slip it slowly from my shoulder. Every move I make is being considered a potential act of subterfuge. Fine, fine! Here!

I swing my bag in a slow arc and throw it over to Bluejay. It lands in the wet dirt about a meter in front of her. "That's better." Bluejay steps forward, momentarily letting the gun's barrel slip from Lilith's temple. She quickly bends down and places the bag over her shoulder, reaching in, extracting the key to the wrangler, and placing it in her jacket pocket. In the fleeting seconds of distraction, I watch Lilith raise her hands high above her head and swing her elbows down to her sides in a single fluid motion.

The zip tie snaps open and without wasting a second, Lilith launches herself at Blue Jay, grabbing her wrist, her waist from behind and trying to force her to the ground. Shocked at the suddenness of it all, but aware that this may be our only chance. I find myself sprinting across the clearing towards the pair of them. Blue Jay is taken by surprise following Lilith's assault, but she adapts to the situation quickly. Planting one foot in front to brace her sudden momentum. She stops herself from being brought down. At the same time, she swings the stock of the rifle down to her side where it meets Lilith's face with a sickening crack.

You fucking bitch! Lilith is knocked onto her back, dazed and hurt. Without hesitation, Bluejay swings the rifle down and fires a shot into the girl's stomach. I find myself trapped in the moment, as if reality itself is stunned by the madness taking place before it, unsure how it will continue on. The sound of the shot thunders through my conscious, yet at the same time seems distant, otherworldly. I can't bring myself to speak, my lips uneasily parted as Lilith's fitful cries resound, uninterrupted through the clearing.

What have you done? What have you... Bluejay is backing quickly away from Lilith, putting space between the two of us while she struggles to reload. She was right to keep me at a distance early on. She's given herself more than enough time to drive a second bullet into the chamber and click the bolt into position. No more tricks, Alice.

Before I know it, I've broken into a final, desperate sprint, casting wet mud behind me as I dash towards the shelter of the treeline. I can imagine Bluejay leveling the rifle, lowering her eye to the sights. Another shot echoes through the cold air, flying wide and perishing with a distant thud. As I reach the edge of the clearing, I throw myself behind the thick trunk of the nearest tree. My back presses against the rough bark as I listen for any movement behind me. Twigs snap beneath Bluejay's feet as she advances towards me. You did this to yourselves.

You did this with your lies and your tricks and your fucking games! Well I'm not fucking playing anymore! A shot grazes the tree, ricocheting off into the woods. I can hear her beginning to strafe around my position, poised and ready to fire as soon as she gets an angle.

From the moment she'd first opened her mouth, spilling her bitter dogmatic cynicism into our group, I'd been waiting for Bluejay to realize she was wrong.

Every so often, in a quiet moment, I'd catch myself fantasizing about the stark and esoteric phenomenon that would stop her tongue and force her to accept the truth. I realize now that there was never going to be such a moment, that nothing lies beyond her powers of self-delusion. She was lost to us, lost to the road, a twisted woman, driven mad by her own rationality. My hand slips into my pocket. You know what, Blue Jay? I believe you.

The next thing I hear is a faint, nostalgic ringtone. A sudden, deafening bang.

in the brief time I was afforded following my tense call with Blue Jay I had taken one of Rob's knives to the block of C4 cutting away almost everything around the blasting cap the block was less than a pound in weight when it slipped into a compartment of my satchel and buttoned it up when Blue Jay had asked for the key I made sure to reach into my bag enthusiastically I had a feeling she'd see my eagerness as a potential trap allowing me a chance to throw her the satchel she didn't trust anything I did and it made her predictable

I was... I was...

Hey Jen. Hey Alice. Try to stay awake Jen. You're gonna be alright, okay? We'll stop the bleeding and we'll get you patched up.

Back at the Wrangler. We've got Roswell in the spring, and once you're better, we'll go there together, okay? Jin? Jin? When she manages to open her eyes once more, the look she gives me is kind, heartbreakingly knowing. I can't help but think back our time on the cliffside, overlooking the vast ocean of fields. She'd asked how many people had died, being told comforting lies. She asked how many of them knew. I can't speak for anyone else, but as she stares up at me, hushing me with a look, I can tell that she does.

I wish we could have been friends for longer. Aww. I can't bring myself to speak. Every word seems too small, too insubstantial, too wholly insignificant to be the last thing she might hear. All I can do is stare into Lilith's eyes as her faltering breath rises in clouds of pale steam, clouds that grow slowly thinner and thinner until nothing rises at all. I lay her hand on the ground and let her fingers slip gently from my grasp.

My legs carry me over to Bluejay. My hand reaches into her pocket and lifts out the key to the Wrangler. The metal is irreparably bent, with no hope of fitting back in the ignition. This was the potential outcome which had rendered the C4 as a last resort, only to be used if my life was in immediate danger. It had done its job. I was alive, but I was also stuck in this forest. I can't bring myself to care about that right now. My mind is numb to the concept of future suffering, with no space left to contemplate tomorrow's potential trials.

The horrors of the present are hard enough to face. My mind eclipsed by more darkness than I can process. The only glimmering shred of solace I can muster comes from the wishful belief that I've now seen all the terrors this night has to offer. So I turned towards the wrangler. I find myself proven wrong. Once again, I stand stock still as the child's crooked form. Ah, dang it. There he is. I was wondering if he was going to come back. As the child's crooked form staggers out from the tree line.

It looks markedly different. Now a patchwork malformation of adolescence, adulthood, and old age. The face, however, is still juvenile and filled with an innocent sorrow as it lurches towards Bluejay on uneven feet. It doesn't seem to have noticed me. I back away from Bluejay and step slowly towards Lilith, where Rob's LED torch still lays on the ground. The child reaches Bluejay, observing her silent, mangled frame. Through my damp and tearing, I could just make out a heartbroken whine.

I continue to back away as it lifts Bluejay's limp arm, shaking it wildly as if attempting to imbue it with some semblance of animation. Frustrated tears dripping freely from its chin, the child throws Bluejay's wrist back down against the ground. As it looks away from her broken body and turns its face to me, I watch as the soft, innocent features contrast into a scowl of juvenile rage, signifying the inceptive throes of a tantrum that could eviscerate anything in its path.

In the last few seconds of calm, I feel my boot brush up against the torch. Bending slowly, keeping my eyes on the child for as long as I can, I reach down with my right hand and lift it from the ground. My hopes that I wouldn't have to use it are dashed instantly. The child drops onto its hands and legs, letting out a tortured, furious scream and races towards me with staggering velocity. I dodge out of the way at the last possible moment, hitting the soft dirt as the child skitters to a stop behind me. In the time it takes to turn itself around, I've already switched on the torch.

Once again, the child is hit by a powerful beam of light. Its body lurches and spasms, its skin pulling and stretching over elongated bones. Crying out in pain, its voice deepening with every passing second, the disjointed figure dashes in my direction, clasping my right arm in its hands and slamming me down onto the ground. The torch swings wildly as the creature climbs on top of me, tearing the fabric from my right sleeve, digging its nails into the skin just above my elbow. It doesn't stop at the skin.

I feel the hot, electric agony of scraped nerve endings, hear the sickening snap of breaking bone. Before I lose my chance forever, I throw my torch weakly from my right hand and catch it in my left, pressing the beam directly into the child's face.

It screams a scream of decades. The child's eyes roll back into its head, overpowered by the brutal onslaught the light has wrought. I look on as its face melts and flickers through the adolescence, through adulthood and middle age. The tortured scream grows hoarse and weak as its skin wrinkles and sags, rushing beyond human years into an untouched realm of decrepitude. Eventually its eyes glaze over, and its once powerful scream becomes nothing more than a grating rattle.

I let the pitiful, lifeless creature fall to the ground beside me as I roll myself onto my knees. I stumble along the ground towards Bluejay, falling repeatedly, a stream of red soaking into the soil behind me. Once I reach her, I use my left hand to unfasten the rifle's leather shoulder strap. I clumsily form the strap into a loop, passing it beneath my right shoulder.

My head feels light, struggling to maintain focus. I grab a stick from the ground and place it through the knot of the loop, using my teeth to draw the knot securely closed around it. My left hand twists the stick over and over again, each turn tightening the leather strap until it bites into my skin. The bleeding lessens, but not nearly enough. Picking up my tired frame, barely able to keep myself upright, I place one foot painstakingly in front of the other, struggling over the damp ground, out of the clearing, and into the trees.

I need to get back to the Wrangler. I can feel everything starting to fade. Even the ringing in my ears is dulled. My vision blurry. I lock the stick under my armpit, freeing up my left hand to brace me as I start to stumble against the trees. The more I lose my faculties, the less capable I am of perceiving their decline, but I know they're slipping away all too quickly. As I struggle further through the woods, a figure steps out from the trees, stopping me in my tracks.

I sway on my feet as I try to identify what I'm seeing, the very act of standing now requiring constant dog-detention. I have never seen the figure before. It seems to be composed of a constantly shifting maelstrom of crackling monochromatic sparks. An electric cloud of black, white, and gray formed into a humanoid shape. As soon as it sees me, the humanoid creature falls backwards, scrabbling away from me across the ground, more terrified of me than I am of him.

I don't know if the entity is malignant or benign, but in my current state, my mind softly screaming against the dying light, I can't make the distinction. As it backs up against a mound of earth, I try to ask it for help. The requisite words have already been lost to the advancing fog, and all I can do is reach out my hand towards him, attempting to entreat some spark of humanity within the fizzling, shifting figure.

In response to my vague plea, the entity scampers off into the forest, tripping over itself before disappearing from view. As I watch it leave, a single dim beacon ignites in the far corners of my swiftly vanishing mind. A single light whose implications kickstart my fading reason. It forced me on through the forest. I can see the wrangler through the trees. It's close by, yet at the same time, impossibly far away. There's something wrong with my eyes.

The car shifts in and out of focus, but every time it comes back into view, the image is less sharp, till it exists as a pulsing dark green blur against a dull, slowly swaying backdrop. My boots kick up against one another, a final stumble that brings me down to earth. When I try to get up again, I find that I'm completely unable. There's no strength left in my body, and no amount of resolve can raise me back to my feet. Though it may be my imagination, I think I can hear a steady rustling through the undergrowth, as if something were making its way towards me.

soon after my senses start to die anyway, leaving me with nothing more than the cold and the silence for company. The dim light shines until the end, however, the single strand of revelation, a solitary thought that I attempt to hold aloft for the all-consuming fog. It's a memory, a vague recollection from my first interview with Rob J. Guthrie.

It was the day we met. The day he told me about his long and meandering life. Japan, Hiroji, Akiogara, and the strange phenomenon which he saw which sparked his obsession with the supernatural. The singular event that started him down the road to the left-right game that led this excursion, the moment that brought us here. It walked up to me through the trees. Looked like static you see on a TV screen, but it had a human shape almost. Almost? He was missing an arm.

Hmm. End of part eight. All right. So do you think that she has just seen the thing that he has saw back in all those years ago? It was missing an arm. Wait a minute. Isn't that the static? Didn't that? Did she say the static was missing an arm? I'm trying to read back and see just to make sure that or is it referencing? Trying to see. Hmm. What do you think? Hold on. The torch. Here's a sickening.

It did. Okay. The child, the child didn't rip off her arm. Did it? No, I don't think so. Okay. I was going to think maybe it's something like he saw her. She saw him. Um, it could have been something like that. I mean, she's only using her left hand, but I thought that she was just using her left arm because, uh, when she reached in, it cut her hand really bad, um, to the front windshield. I think what happened is just then, all right, this is a theory.

I think that Rob, the thing that led him to find the left right game, his first experience with the supernatural, I think he saw her in this moment now. And then she sees Rob. I don't know. Like time is weird. Stuff's weird. It's the mention of like, she said she implied her arm was being ripped so much. She could hear the bone tearing as the child was digging into it. Right. And then she stands up, puts a tourniquet on it. And like, she's about to die from the bleed out to her arm.

So if it's, if not off, it's nearly off. Right. That are the perception of it to this character in the darkness could be that it looked like it was missing an arm. Yeah. Cause it's like in a tourniquet across her chest probably. Right. I think that's what she's getting at when she thinks about the situation she's in. So almost the static is like an aberration from a different time of like Rob, maybe from a different time.

I think Rob saw Alice at a different time, all the way back when he was in Japan. Remember how he said, like, 20 years ago? Yeah. Yeah, that's what I'm wondering, is that... Is this the... Is this the same forest in Japan, whatever...

perceived through that and is that and is the static is that like him from a different time and she would have appeared differently to him as well right i think it is and i think this is all done by whatever entity or ethereal controls this left right game world because it wants it wanted rob to be a part of it it wanted all them to come into it i think that all everything that's happened has been puppeteered for a long time i think that's what that's implying

Well, also the amount of like how this universe works. I mean, time is irrelevant. Like it's kind of like even the way like how the energy kind of works or how like, you know, you don't have to eat really. You don't have to sleep. Cars don't burn fuel. Like it seems like it is in it. Like time is almost non-existent in this place. It's just kind of like there's day and night cycles, but I don't think that means anything. Like I think it's just...

the earth is moving in a, in the mirth, the earth is moving in a normal way, but the parent, like the peril universe you're in operates in a completely different light that like time is nothing like there is no, which is even like a good point here with like, now you have this like baby character who is the coolest monster. I love that by the way of just like this frail thing. And then it grows into painful, painful,

painful ways there, uh, into an old man. And, you know, the decades of screaming was a great line. Um, but it's just like time and everything else doesn't, you know, isn't the same. I mean, we're coming up here to part nine, right? Part nine out of 10. So we're coming up and now the only character left theoretically is Alice. I mean, I think we're going to see Rob again, but now it's just two characters, but at this point only one. Yeah. I'm sure we'll see Rob again. Um,

A lot happened there. I was getting into the stories I just kept reading and didn't stop, but man, a lot went down. Lilith is dead, which is tragic. I hate that. Blue Jay is finally dead, though. I kind of accidentally predicted it with like, haha, what if she blew up Blue Jay? Yeah. Yeah. I'm waiting till the end. I've been writing stuff down on this note, little notepad, but...

I'm curious to see the end before I really give any kind of, uh, any thoughts about it. But I mean, I'm, I'm down to keep just pushing. Yeah. Let's keep running. I want to see where it goes. All right. Yeah. Part, part nine. So he just, so this is once again, our little transcribe English transcriber. So like I said, this is the, should be in British accent here. So let's read this first part here in a British, nice British accent. Sorry. I've not been in touch guys.

It's been a busy month. However, I'm pleased to announce that, as of yesterday night, I've finally touched down in Phoenix, Arizona. I'm posting this log from my first American hotel room, which offers a gorgeous view of both the state hospital and a local prison. Auspicious times. Drop me a line if you're in the city or if you have any information at all.

Okay, so I want you to know that's a better British accent than I've been doing, but you did sound like either AI or a robot butler. You know what? I had to align all of my chakras to get that out, okay? I think it worked well. It worked very well. Good. I hope so. So now here it says that it's February 15th, a whole new day. Which, yeah, one day's passed, so that tracks. Yeah. All right, whatever. Let's get into it. Let's do it.

Part 9. As the darkness closes in, I find myself dragged deeper and deeper into the depths of my own subconscious until I sink through the back of my mind into an indescribable place. A featureless, directionless, timeless void that exists at the weakest point of life. I can feel myself drifting away, surrender to an almost imperceptible tide, carried slowly but inexorably from the world. The rest of the night unfolds in fleeting snapshots.

I briefly feel my body lift up from the ground, gravity pulling at my limbs as I am conveyed through the forest. An unknowable stretch of time later, I feel a distinct burning sensation to my right. In the world I currently inhabit, only an echo of the pain reaches me, but I can tell that it was once substantial, unable to divine its purpose. I let the sensation fade away before descending once more into the placid darkness.

When my eyes finally work themselves open, the sun is beginning to rise. Without an ounce of strength left in my body, all I can do is peer through my eyelashes, taking in the vague scene before me. I'm in the back of the Wrangler, propped up against a soft pillar of luggage. There's somebody kneeling beside me, tugging at my right shoulder. When I try to address him, I discover that my voice has withered to a spectral whisper, so frail that it hardly exists at all. Rob...

Hearing my voice, the figure shuffles around and kneels before me, staring into my eyes as they slowly regain their focus. You just lay back, Ms. Sharma. I just finished patching you up, but I gotta make sure it's good work. There we go. That's my boy. I love his back. Here he is. He's back. He's so back. What happened to you?

niece had me at gunpoint had to act like i was all but dead when she went into the forest i got free took the med kit into the trees fixed myself up a little i was coming to help when i heard this awful noise went to check it out that's when i found you is the engine running wanted to warm the place up for you you were in shock and since the battery don't run down anymore i thought no i mean how the key it got you think i'd risk getting out this far with only one copy of my car key

Yeah, that makes sense. Yeah. Duh. Rob seems almost insulted and thinking back to everything I've learned about him over the course of this trip, I could see why he might be. Even in my weakened state, I can't help but laugh, though it admittedly comes out as a stilted wheezing, just cruising quietly. No, that's, that's actually very you. Yeah.

I think Blue Jay would have appreciated that information last night. Yeah, well, she didn't ask. I'm glad you made it, Rob. Glad you made it too. They're building tough down in London. I rest my head back against the luggage. I'm from Bristol. Of course. Yeah, of course. That's, uh... Sorry.

Rob tries to recover his smile, but it slips quickly from his grasp. In its absence, his presence cringed into sudden, uncontrollable sadness. Ms. Sharma? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Rob Guthrid's weathered face bursts into a heaving mess of tears. He repeats those two words as he lumbers towards me, throwing his arms around my waist and resting his head on my left shoulder. My hand feels like lead as I raise it up and brush it against his hair, holding him against me.

I'm able to fully assess the extent of my injury.

Everything below my right elbow is gone. Oh, wow. Okay. That doubles down to my point about the apparition. Yeah, definitely. Yeah. Yeah. It feels almost like a dream. My upper arm is practically unblemished, save for a few dark bruises from last night's fall. Yet it descends an impossibly short distance before ending in a blunt, surreal stump. The wound itself is hidden from view, swaddled in fresh white bandages.

I can't seem to figure out how I should feel and, consequentially, I don't seem to feel anything. It's okay, Rob. It's okay. I never- I never meant for any of this to- I know. I know. I know. Rob pulls back, his eyes still watering. I'll take you home, okay? I'll find somewhere to turn around and we'll get you home. I can tell Rob's offer is genuine and, to be honest, I'm a little surprised.

I still remember our verbal agreement, forged at the mouth of the tunnel, that he would not be turning his car around until he reached the roads end. I never expected he'd be the one to renege on the deal. I'm aware this could be my best chance to leave it all behind, to flee from the horrors of the road before they take even more of me. I know the way back. I know that leads to safety, to family, to blessed normality. However, as an insidious voice in the back of my head quietly notes, it doesn't lead to answers.

I'm still game if you are. Yeah, let's go. Let's go. How much blood has been shed at this point? Your arm is gone. People are dead. Like, what the hell? We're going to back down now? Like, come on. Like, I've got more for the road. I've got some road brews ready to go. What are we going to do? Went out now? Come on.

Realistically, in real life, like life or death, sure, I'd be mad at Rob. Sure, I'd want to go see my family, stuff like that. But in the realm of this, when you're that locked in, that much has already been cost. You have faced death how many times? You overcame... I mean, at this point, it's just like it would all be for nothing if you just turned back around. Like, I mean...

You have to go. You have to push forward. You have to do it, yeah. It's like, to me, it is the same mindset as, like, sailors who, like, went to discover new lands and, like, half the crew died on the voyage. Like, what are we doing? Yeah, well, let's just turn around. Yeah, yeah, what are we doing for if we don't hit land, right? I also like to imagine Rob has his hands, or his face in his hands, and he's like, I can take you back around if you want. And he's like, his fingers are open, and he's, like, looking at her to see if she's, like, falling for it. Oh!

I can take it back if you want.

oh no i i definitely i take you back if you ask no i think he's genuine about it but uh yeah no well cool it goes on i do need robbed for me to like fully like his character i do need him to feel some guilt and express guilt for what's happened because it is reckless to again see this cave spider reference it is reckless to invite people even if they don't believe you um

But I also get wanting to carry on here. My thing, too, is I think that from this point, he's done this so much that I think that maybe he didn't think it was as dangerous. Well, I think he knew the dangers of it, but I think he's just like, I'll tell him the rules and nothing bad will happen. So I'm wondering if it was his own ignorance, too. And to his credit, it has never been this dangerous, right? No. Well...

Well, I get, I mean, there's been a hitchhiker, but he said no one's died in a long time. So unless he's lying about that, you know, well, I guess, I mean, people have disintegrated. People have fallen into a asphalt. Not, not before this trip though. Like he said, sure. Well, that, that, that we, that we know of that we, again, unless he's lying. Yeah. Yeah, sure. All right, cool. Rob sends me a heartbroken smile, which I would return if I had the strength.

At that moment, a somber understanding develops between us. An understanding that, after everything we've seen, everything that's happened, we're both still choosing the secrets of the road. The decision reveals something about us, exposing a driving force behind our actions that negates our concern for survival and overshadows the imagined protest of our loved ones. It's a decision only two broken people would make. Rob spends the morning packing up the Wrangler, giving me time to rest.

The notion should bring me comfort. Instead, it makes me feel like a lobster in a tank.

A few hours later, Rob carries me out of the car, letting me rest in the doorframe. In front of me lies three mounds of dirt, raised slightly from the surrounding earth. Two are headed by crosses, formed from knotted sticks bound slightly together. The grave on the far left, bare, bereft of any religious affiliation. Is that Bluechase without the cross? Didn't think she'd want one. She wouldn't have done that for you, you know. Good thing I ain't her then. I buried what I can, but...

That was some state she was in. Did the child kill her? Rob goes to throw a foldable spade in the back of the car. For a brief moment, I consider letting his statement go unanswered. No, it didn't. I did. Rob immediately marches back around, his brow furrowed in confusion. I hit a C4 charge in my satchel. Once you took the bag, I... well... I gesture to the bear grave. Rob looks as if he's seen me for the first time. Where did you...

From your son's car. Oh. That's what I figured. Yeah. Yep. Yep. And I also had the suspicion that the child... Rob mentions he has a son and then the child shows up. I wonder if that has some... Maybe symbolically. Maybe not literally. Um...

but I felt like there was some connection there. And then someone went with Rob. That person hated Rob. Rob mentioned he had a son. I thought maybe it was his son C4 that was there. So I guess that kind of confirms it. Yeah. Yeah. Yep. I watched as my quiet assertion strikes Rob's ears as its meaning burrows through his consciousness, its implications contorting his features into a look of shame and damning revelation. Wait, hold on, hold on, hold on. Freeze. What, what's the third grave?

Did he bury the child? I guess, right? He said, I buried all that I could. Yeah, just Lilith and Bluejay died there. Yeah, I'm guessing that it's the child. Huh. That's an inner... Okay, anyway, that's just a weird... Yeah, I mean, I think that the child thing is still human. I don't know. I mean, I assume that he maybe treated it with respect also. I mean, I don't know. That's fascinating. Yeah, that's an interesting... Okay. Okay.

Its implications and stories features, um, I can tell from his reaction that I've got it right. We haven't had a chance to speak since I learned his son's name. That piece of information formed the crucial thread, stringing together the strange and seemingly incongruent discoveries I'd encountered on the road. Earlier in the week, I may have been worried to confront him with this information, but things are different now. We've come too far, we've been through too much, and if he's truly faring me somewhere with malicious intent, I'm powerless to stop him anyway.

I raise a weak hand towards him, a quiet request for assistance. I think it's time we had a second interview. Following a tense and guilty silence, Rob simply nods and helps me into the passenger seat. And then we cut into our conversation later. Okay, so we're about to figure out information about Rob and his son and all that stuff. Do you think Rob knows people get contorted into these creatures? If that's the case. I don't know. I mean, are you saying that just based on the fact that he buried it? Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah, I mean, we have had no... It would be easier to say if there was another kind of monster or body that he disposed of or he was just like, just leave it, it's trash. But there's been no other kind of burial so far. You remember that caved-in, lanky face thing that ran at them on the main road right before Apollo died? Right. Wasn't his reaction to that like he was kind of scared of it a little bit and let it run by? I know he fired at it, but...

He fired at it, but it didn't do anything. Well, I thought he fired at the tow truck and it didn't do anything. I think he fired both. I don't know. I'm curious. I don't know how much. I think he knows more. I think that we're getting ready to see. Yeah, let's get into the conversation. Yeah, I agree. All right. It wasn't military. It was commercial. The Wrangler continues to crawl through the forest. I've stayed quiet for almost half an hour, letting Rob formulate a response for his own words and in his own time.

Commercial? Yeah, explosive charges for control demolition. Bobby was in the business. Had his own firm. You must have been proud. Yeah. Yeah, he built that place up from nothing. Touring his office was one of the best days of my life. So, how did he end up out here? Rob grows quiet, reluctantly accepting that he'll have to start from the beginning. Bobby was a smart kid. Smarter than I ever was. Could have run the farm at 15, but country life didn't take...

Steady moved to Phoenix, picked up a college degree, got himself a steady career. A steady career? That's pretty rebellious for a Guthrid. Well, we were pretty different people. Didn't always get along. I was still a courier in those days, always jetting off somewhere new. Of course, I went to Japan, stayed there a while, then... Aokihara? That's right. Changed everything. Came home after five years with a new hobby. Bobby didn't take care of the stories, but...

his ma died sudden while i was away we both wanted to start over being each other's lives more so he came with me to the pacific northwest tracking down sasquatch creature dance show but bobby had a good time camping so kept joining me before long he was doing the research himself organizing trips picking up rumors and strange stuff all over the country sounds like a nice time for you both it was so was it bobby who discovered the left right game

He called me up one day, out of the blue. This was about three years ago. Said he'd found a set of rules. Said we should try out. To be honest, I thought our trippin' days were over. I was back in Alabama, and he was starting up a family of his own, but suddenly he's telling me to meet him in Phoenix, so of course I went along. And this time, you both realized it was real? Bobby knew as soon as we reached the tunnel. He passed that way every day. Knew it wasn't supposed to be there, but there it was.

He said that was the most amazing thing he ever saw. We charted over the next year. Never we could get the time together, but we moved slow. Map the place out, turn back on the regular. It took us a while before we got the courage to stay on the road overnight. Both of us were terrified the tunnel would disappear or something. I could tell Rob is replaying the events in his head. The reminiscence almost makes him smile. Bobby's wife was a real doll. Used to work in his office. Kindest girl I ever met. Funny too.

There's a decade between them, but you could tell they were good for each other. He shared everything with her, including the road. In fact, once Bobby got a little more secure with the rules, they started to map it together, exploring their own little world. After a brief pause, Rob's expression sinks slightly. The reminiscence is growing darker. A few months go by. I'm hearing from Bobby a little less, but I expected that. Then one evening, I get a call from the hospital saying,

Told me my boy had walked into some ER in Phoenix. Was he okay? No. No, he was in a bad way. Leg all busted up, delirious, asking for Marjorie. They found her bag in his car, but she was nowhere to be found. Bobby lost her on the road. Yeah. Yeah, that's right. On our second night here, after we lost Ace, you told me the road had never hurt anyone before. Well, that wasn't a lie, at least. It wasn't the road that got him. What do you mean?

They made it to the forest. None of us had got that far before, but this time they pushed a little further than usual. Do you know why? Oh, no, man. Oh, boy. Oh, gosh. They were going to have a kid. Marjorie was almost due. Wasn't traveling so well. I think they knew they wouldn't be hitting the road for a while. It was like a last hurrah, I guess. But only Bobby came back. They explored the woods till nightfall.

When Bobby said they had to turn back, Marjorie didn't want to. Never told me why. Never told me what happened. By the end of that trip, Marjorie was still out there, and he was in a hospital bed. Rob takes a moment to collect himself to put the facts in order. The trees are starting to grow thin. Sunlight bursting through the widening gaps in the canopy. Looks like we're nearing the forest end. Bobby took a month or so to recover. Boy was desperate to get his wife back. And, uh, of course he'd become a suspect in her disappearance.

Needless to say, first thing he did, set onto the road to find Marjorie. But he didn't. Nope. No, no, he found her. Just a little sooner than he thought. I take a moment to process Rob's implication. Suddenly I feel a stone drop in my stomach. She was on the 34th turn. Oh! Oh, dude. Oh! Wow. This story is suddenly making me, like, emotional because...

I realize it's like a father who feels like he could have done more for his son. So everything he's doing now is just like him trying to correct the mistakes he could have corrected back then. Yeah, exactly. And also he has literally nothing to lose. And now he's probably, it's probably an attempt to, you know, do this for a son. It's an, it's an attempt to make his son mean something, you know? Yeah. Yeah.

Man. That's a great reveal, though, for the 34th run. I'm sorry for everything I said about Rob. I'm sorry. Boy was suspicious, let's be honest. Yeah, he was, but I get it. It's kind of poetic now. We haven't heard the rest of his interview, so who knows? He honestly kind of got me a little bit when he was talking about

The way he was talking about his son's wife, he was like, she's the kindest woman I ever met. It's like the way my dad talks about my wife. And it like, it hit me a little bit that that was the moment reading the story. I'm like, oh, okay. I see what Rob is. I get it. Okay. Yeah. Yeah. Now, now I'm like sad. Yeah. All right. Wendigoon sad. Take two. Yeah. Literally. Yeah. What's new? What's new with this stupid, stupid nightmare we made for ourselves. Yeah.

I don't like, what did you say the creator's name was? Jack? Yeah, Jack on Reddit's Neon Tempo. Neon Tempo, I don't like you making me feel things. I hate emotion. Yeah, it's stupid. Zero out of ten. I hate the story anyway. Wasn't the woman he knew, of course. Stood there all day, just mumbling about the road. Didn't even recognize him. I remember he called me up right after he first saw her there. It's heartbreaking. He tried almost every day from then on.

always stopping at that turn. He'd yell, he'd plead, he'd bring pictures and gifts, but, man, she never responded. Don't know if it was really her, but whatever was on that corner, it belonged to the road. Bobby lost something of himself on that corner. After a while, his fascination with the game turned sour, turned to hate. He thought the road was something evil, that it had no place linking into our world.

I'll check it up on him at that point every few days or so. Oh, so he was going to blow up the tunnel. Yeah. Yeah. Yup. One weekend. He said he wasn't doing better. Even said he'd been into work. I thought maybe things were turning around, but, uh, then he went quiet. Didn't pick up his phone for three days. I had my place in Phoenix by that point and a spare key to his house. That's where I found the note telling me he'd gone back through one last bid to find his wife. And, uh,

And if you couldn't bring her back, well, uh... He was going to destroy the tunnel. Cut the road off from the world. I played the game in Phoenix, Chicago, a few different places, but that one tunnel is what links you to the road. I looked around his garage, found the box for a phone, a lot of electronics all over the place. Pretty clear what he'd done, so I jump in my car. Oh, I think I know where this is going.

We pass out of the forest onto a long, narrow road. In the distance, I can see our route winding up a towering wall of sandstone disappearing onto a set of rolling mountains. He passed me on his way back just before I hit Jubilation, thundering down the road at full speed, driving like crazy. That's when I knew he hadn't found Earth, that he was going to take out the tunnel, end the game once and for all. But he never got that far. I tried to talk to him, called his cell, tried the radio frequencies...

You ran him off the road. Oh. Yeah. So Rob killed his son so he wouldn't destroy the game.

well, is that what you're reading or what do you think? I think, you know how the bombs go off if you call them? Yeah. I guess the, you ran them off the road. Well, he never confirmed that. She's like, Oh, you ran them off the road. Did you? Okay. And Rob hasn't said anything yet. I think what happened is Rob tried to call a phone that the bomb was hooked up to and it blew him up. Oh, I see. Okay. Cell service. Don't work through the tunnel. He knew that.

he's either going to blow it up on this side or while he was in there so you were trying to save him or save yourself neither i was trying to save the road okay maybe you are right maybe you are right maybe i gotta have you say what you want about this place miss sharma but it's a doorway out of everything we ever known it's the road out of out of reality it may be the most significant frontier we ever crossed and that's part of me now part of me knew that was too important for one man to take away

for the okay so you you were right that it was to save yeah yeah i think that he because i think the thing is that he there's also a level of guilt that he basically killed his son in the process to save this thing this thing that he loves also so i think there's a lot of different things i yeah i don't think he's he's definitely not the innocent person sure obviously but gotcha um

For the second time today, Rob battles back tears. For the second time, he fails. The road silently did down his cheek as he continues on. He was more injured than I thought. He'd hurt himself bad before he reached me. That's why he was headed to the tunnel so quick. He wanted to destroy it while he still could. The road had taken almost everything from him. And then I took the rest. I denied him his hope. Took away his chance to leave the world on his own terms. In the end, he didn't even seem angry.

He just asked after Marjorie, asked me why she did it, why she left. I laid him to rest there. Visited the place often, but I never had a good answer for him. That's when I started prepping the next turn. So you posted his logs online and pretended to discover them? Thought people would ask less questions that way. And where did we fit into this? Why did you bring us here with you? I guess I thought it was time the world knew. Didn't want all this to end up an old man's secret. Honest to God, if I knew the road was going to

I swear I never would have brought you here. Rob's features tighten, all his shame and guilt rising to the fore. I can't say it isn't deserved. Despite his intentions, despite his penitence, the man had blinded himself to clear dangers, hurt those closest to him, and, on a road where secrets had killed so many, he kept the most significant one of all. Well, perhaps not the most significant. You didn't bring us here, Rob. Rob turns to me, confused. I met someone in the forest last night. A figure...

Just like the one you saw in Japan. Looked like static you see on a TV screen. I think it was you, Rob. I think I saw you and I think that all those years ago... In my current state, the mechanics of the event and their stunning implications lie beyond my explanatory... Oh, sorry, I was doing Rob's voice. In my current state... No, that's okay. Yeah. In my current state, the mechanics... In my current state. In my current state, the mechanics of the event and their stunning implications lie beyond my explanatory capacity.

In the end, I just raise my lost right arm and wait for Rob to make the connection. A moment later, the car screeches to a halt. Rob stares straight ahead, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. I'm aware that beneath his stone-set features, every square inch of gray matter is fighting to process the fresh revelation. If it's true that, in those quiet woods, I somehow reached across decades to a young Rob Guthrid, then it changes everything.

The twisty narratives that led us to this point, Rob's burgeoning obsession, his son's tragic fate, they all took root in that single moment more than a decade prior to my own birth. I'd placed us on the path which would lead me to this door. As chaotic as the road often seems, that moment in the forest hints at something deeper, something intentional. Rob sets out of the car for a while before wordlessly climbing back in and firing up the Wrangler.

From that point on, we continue as two silent passengers, lost in thought, disappearing into the sandstone mountains. We travel across the thin mountain road for the next two hours, a wall of crooked rock hemming us in. When we pass onto the other side and the outcrop falls away, the landscape below us has changed completely and we're treated to a strange and breathtaking sight. The Wrangler is traversing the cliffs above a vast, flat desert.

There's a city. There's a city on the road!

Despite the epic majesty of the cityscape below us, I can tell that his mind is elsewhere. That he's still digesting the contents of our interview. In the end, I think it's best to leave him alone with his thoughts. We stay on the mountain for another 20 minutes before finally winding down to the desert floor. The space ahead of us is two-tone. The sharp saffron of the desert and the deep blue sky separated by a thin, even horizon.

The only objects that cross this perfect boundary are the hulking gray towers of the city, rising from the sand and bursting through into the heavens. We snake along the desert road, the city looming ever larger as we make our tentative approach towards the border. There's an eerie contrast to the threshold as we cross it. The cuprous glow of the sand switches to gray, the scorching heat instantly cools, and perhaps most notably, the little sound there was is negated entirely.

It's quiet. That's fine by me. I don't know. Maybe whatever brought us here. Could be that no one built it. Maybe just is. I wonder if he's right.

It's hard to think such a place could exist for any practical purpose. The city looks off somehow, as if it was built from conjecture, by an architect who had only heard of cities through poorly translated rumor. All the broad features are present: skyscrapers, lamp posts, window cleaning platforms, but nothing deeper. It's an empty shell, an ornament in the middle of the desert. As we turn down the next few roads, I stare up at the monolithic structures, each one standing at least 100 stories tall.

Mai's tracked back down the countless strata of dark windows as I contemplate what it might be like to live in such a place. When I reach the ground floor, I present him with my answer. There's a young man standing at the ground floor window, his hand resting against the glass. He's wearing a dark gray suit and a look of almost mesmeric shock. His mouth open, his hands shaking, his unblinking eyes staring past us as the wrangler rolls by.

Mize quickly track back up the skyscraper's glass facade, scrutinizing each row of windows in turn. I naively hoped the buildings would be empty, that this place would be nothing more than a colossal ghost town. Now that I know otherwise, each pane of glass feels like a dark pool of water, still on the surface, but with sinister potential lurking within its depths. A few seconds later, more of them arrive.

There aren't many at first, just a few scattered figures stepping up to their windows, pressing themselves against the glass. However, like a light sprinkling of rain that erupts into a downpour, the frequency of their arrival quickly doubles, then triples, until not a single space lies unoccupied.

Rob, there's...

As the final column of windows slips by us, I glance back, hoping to see them return to the depths of the building. Instead, in those last few moments, I witness their collective demeanor fracture into a desperate frenzy, their mouths open in a silent scream as they slam their fists against the glass. Turning back around, I stare into the buildings that currently flank our vehicle. The figures have already arrived at the windows, and their calm is already fading. Rob, we need to go faster. I'm on it.

The Wrangler growls with renewed ferocity as Rob plants his foot onto the gas. We lurch towards the next corner, accelerating down the road as Rob scans for any hidden turns. I achingly shift in my seat, keeping an eye on the scene developing in our wake.

Shards of broken window begin to rain into the asphalt. Watching the shattered pieces tumble through the air. It's apparent that the quiet in the city is simply due to lack of activity. The torrent of splintered glass is completely silent even as it crashes against the impervious ground. Oh, sorry. The quiet in the city isn't due to a lack of activity. Yeah, yeah. Nothing in the city makes a noise. Nothing except us. The thunderous engine of the Wrangler has never sounded so loud.

Looking up, I witness hundreds of hands gripping the shattered window frames, unable to turn myself away as thousands of polished black shoes step over the threshold. The figures stream out from every floor, forming an incomprehensible deluge of humanity. The first wave strikes the ground, with more and more landing against them, a heap of tangled figures struggling to separate themselves. Much like the residents of Jubilation, and everyone else we've encountered on the road, they appear impervious to the fatal harm such an act would impart.

Those that landed on their feet hardly even stop, turning towards us and sprinting after the Wrangler. It doesn't take long for the rest of the writhing mass to resolve itself, its constituent individuals joining the frantic stampede, their chaotic charge and desperate screams bereft of any perceivable sound. Even in the midst of the frenzied pursuit, as a foreboding shower of glass falls from every building we pass, the world outside remains silent, the chaos made even more incomprehensible framed against the ungodly stillness in which it takes place.

Rob screeches around the corner, drifting onto a long and open street. The roadway ahead is flanked by skyscrapers, disappearing to a narrow vanishing point. As we race down this next stretch of road towards a large intersection, the ever-growing mob bursts onto the street behind us, taking the corner with supreme coordination and continuing tirelessly in our direction. A split second later, I'm struck by an abrupt and pervasive idea.

It feels unlike any thought I've ever had before. Less of a notion and more a prescient hybrid of intuition and deja vu. As if the course of action we must take is obvious to me, despite my not knowing why. I force my voice above a grating whisper. Rob, we need to drop something behind us. Something loud. What are you thinking? I, uh...

You just have to trust me, okay? We still have most of the plastic explosive, could you? We still have most of the plastic explosive, could you? Nah, if you took out the plastic caps, I ain't got time to make a new one. Rob glances into the rear view, then back to the road. I can almost hear the gears turning in his head. That the only explosive on board? Think you can drive? I guess we can find out. The car thunders across the tarmac as I clumsily grasp the wheel, shifting myself over and working my foot onto the accelerator. Rob lifts himself up.

away and climbs past me into the back of the Wrangler. In my weak state, every shuddering motion makes my bones rattle. With each subsequent gear shift, I'm forced to take my remaining hand off the wheel and reach across to the stick. The effort is precarious and awkward, my aching limbs puppeteered by willpower and adrenaline, every passing second a battle to maintain control. The windows up ahead are starting to fracture, the noise of the Wrangler is carrying, and the entire city is starting to preempt our arrival.

Behind me, I can hear the ripping of duct tape, the tearing of fabric, and the clattering of falling luggage. I'm not sure what's taking place behind me. I just have to trust that Rob has a plan. I hear the back door swing open just before we reach the intersection, a metallic scraping along the wrangler's roof, and a pained grunt for Rob as he throws something onto the road behind us. Reaching the crossroads, I slide my hand along the wheel and twist it sharply to the right. As the car lurches round and onto the next road, I feel my heart sink dramatically.

We've been overtaken. The windows ahead of us are shattered, the front doors lay broken on the street, and the building's desperate inhabitants are rushing towards us, blocking off our only means of escape. I slam my foot onto the brake, and the Wrangler shudders to a halt, the engine stalling and cutting out. The streets are now spilling over, an overwhelming swarm converging on our position from four directions. I look back to Rob, and he meets my gaze, his eyes brimming with dismayed finality.

An explosion shudders through the air behind us. I look out the back window to see a shattered jerry can, one of Rob's now superfluous fuel reserves. Its dark green shell violently compromised, its contents spilled across the road and cast alight. Now that the engine isn't running, the echo of the blast and roar of the primal, balletic flame fills the afternoon air.

The trajectory of the maddened crowd changes instantaneously. The silent wranglers fall in from their collective attention and they refocus onto the smoldering flames. Those up ahead continue to rush past us, streaming around the wrangler as they scramble to the spilled pool of gasoline, digging their hands into the blaze, grasping hopelessly at the fire. Delicately, careful not to make a single shred of noise, I climb out of the driver's seat, joining Rob in the back of the wrangler. He addresses me in a confused whisper.

Why don't they care about us? What are they doing? It's the sound. They want it for themselves. I don't know how I'm so sure, but I know that it's the case. The jerry can creaks and screams as the city dwellers tear into it smaller and smaller pieces, frantically examining every jagged scrap. With each passing second as the fire dies down, the crowd grows increasingly distressed, as if a precarious commodity is slipping through their fingers. They don't understand it.

They'll put it apart, they'll pull it apart, they'll pull it apart trying to figure it out and they'll never get any closer. And then, it'll be quiet again. Where are you getting this from? I don't know, it's just a, just a feeling. Well, pretty sure they would have pulled us apart too. I'd say we're pretty lucky. Heh, yeah, pretty lucky. As the last of the gasoline's eaten up and the fire dies away, the city dwellers remain in the streets.

Devoided their momentary sense of purpose, their prize vanishing into the aether, the crowd's desperation fades into a hushed despondency. I watch them as they pass by, countless faces wracked with sorrow, their aimless shuffling forming a lonesome sea, a grayscale ocean that spans the desolate city. The Wranglers now drift in the center of the ocean. It's clear that any attempt to start the engine would bring the entire city down on us, reigniting their futile hope, causing them to tear through the car and anything inside it.

For the foreseeable future, we're completely stranded. Don't worry about it, okay? I don't think they're going to leave, Rob. They'll leave. They'll leave. Okay, and what then? They'll still be everywhere. Hey, we're a smart pair. We'll think of something. In the eerie, pervasive calm that surrounds us, I set myself down next to Rob and leaned back against the wall.

Without else to do but wait for our situation to change, after watching the figures outside for over an hour, the only thing that's different is a strange, needling sensation that feels like it's emanating from our absent forearm. My, uh, my arm hurts. How's that possible? Don't worry, that's, uh, it's called phantom limb. You got some sensation, right? Like, still got something there. A lot of people get that after amputations. Here.

Rob reaches into his medical kit and retracts a blue jar of tablets. Twisting off the cap, he shakes two pills free. "You're gonna need these for the pain." I stare at the tablets for a moment before collecting them from his open palm. He passes me his canteen and I swallow them down in two weak gulps. "You have a lot of experience with these amputations?" "More than you think." My brow furrows. Though I'd meant my remark as a passing jibe, Rob's response rings with a strange sincerity. It takes me a moment to realize why that is.

I forgot. You were drafted. You never talked about it. Been thinking about it a lot, though. Bunch of strangers brought together under false pretenses, told that we were serving a grand purpose by some old liar. Guess it's interesting how time repeats itself. Now that I think about it, he drove a Jeep, too. That's pretty good. Rob, I told you. You didn't bring us here. That don't change nothing. Don't change what I did. To you, to Bobby, to any of them.

Maybe you were there in the forest, but I was the one who started this. The one who kept asking what was at the end of the road. What do you think is at the end, Rob? Starting to think that ain't for me to know. I've been moving from place to place so long, seeing everyone else settle down. Far as I could see, the end of the road is just wherever you decide to stop. I rest my head on Rob's shoulder. He gently places his arm around me. It isn't long before medication starts to take effect.

Quietly overtaking my already weakened constitution, the pain subsides, dulled along with the rest of my senses. The sun is still streaming through the windshield as my eyes begin to drift shut. I watch the figures past the window, my eyelids getting weaker. "I don't want this to be the end, Rob." "I know, Ms. Sharma. I know." The last thing I see before I fall into a dreamless, artificial sleep is Rob Guthrid's hand reaching for the rifle.

Alright, well that's the end of that day. Man, that was a WILD interaction!

Yeah. Kind of has a vibe of like, I don't know, my mind went to, like aesthetically, it went to I Am Legend. Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking. Oh my gosh. Yeah, yeah. It had that kind of feel to it. Also, it kind of makes you think that Rob brought these people here so he could have people that knew about it. But I think also he is so determined to get to the end and come back so that also he could, in my opinion, I think that he was going to blow up the tunnel as well in a weird way. I think like,

I think he wants to see what's at the end. So I think he could have that piece is what I think. Just because I feel like knowing that he can go back, I think that his obsession will never stop until he knows. Maybe. I don't know. I think I kind of believe him for now when he's like, I just want to tell the world. I want the world to know what's in here. Oh, I think that's that. But in my opinion, I think that it would lead to him blowing it up.

Or something. Like, I feel like he would carry out his son's wishes. Maybe he hasn't said it, but in my opinion... Like, it hasn't been said, but I just... I see that kind of future, I guess. Of like, you... It's like an itch. Like, an itch you have to scratch or whatever. Alright, cool. Let's... Just keep going. Yep. When my eyes work themselves open, the sun's beginning to set. Oh, I think I know what just happened. Oh, bro...

Do you want me to tell you what I'm thinking is going to happen, or do you want it to be a surprise? I mean, I think Rob sacrificed himself. I think he's going to. I think he's going to go make noise with the gun so she can keep driving. Yep. Yeah. If that's where this goes, that's a good death. I talked about it. If that's where this goes, that's a good way to out of character. Yeah, I mean, he has to... Once again, it's kind of the thing you said earlier of, like, he kind of has to...

I think to be effective, I don't think he can survive. Correct. And also there, there's a whole thing in fiction, right? Like care somehow a character has to atone to be satisfied. Right. So regardless of how much we like Rob, he did, his actions did lead to the death of these people. So either he has to do something great with it, or he has to make a similar sacrifice and service or something. So,

That feels like a good end point. Earlier, I was upset when I thought Blue Jay killed him because it was a pointless death. But if it happened, and we hadn't had our answers yet. But if it happens here, don't know it will. But if it happens here, this is a good death. Okay. Yeah, we'll see. When my eyes work themselves open, the sun is beginning to set. I've been moved. As my vision adjusts, it becomes clear that I'm still in the Wrangler. My head resting against a pile of fresh clothes, a soft travel blanket laid across me.

I glance around to find that Rob's nowhere to be seen. Momentarily, forgetting the situation outside the car, I attempt to call out for him. The syllable catches in my throat as a shambling figure passes by the window, wringing its hands in despair and casting a long shadow through the car. With a renewed sense of caution, I slide the blanket to one side and slowly make my way up to the front. The cabin is similarly empty, except for a single scrap of paper.

Rob? I'm, uh... I'm sorry, Ms. Sharma.

Rob, where are you? Down the road a little. Got myself to one of the rooftops. I know I always hated cities, but once you're above it, the view's really something. Come back, Rob. Come back, please. I wish I could. But we both know those things ain't leaving. And you need the car to get wherever you gotta go, so all I can do is make some ruckus, draw him out of your way. Yeah. I rest my head against the steering wheel, bracing myself against the weight of his words. I can't do this without you.

Oh, I don't think that's true, Miss Sharma. I think whatever's on this road, it wants you to make it all the way. All I was meant to do was bring you this far. Now, you don't have to listen to it. You can turn around and head home, but either way, only one of us is driving out of here. So I guess the only question left is, which way you want to go? Well, are you ahead of me or behind me? That which way you want to go got me a little bit, because that's what he said to her at the beginning. I can be anywhere.

Your choice, Ms. Sharma. In the wake of Rob's words and the shadow of the decision, I'm cast into silence. Not because the choice is hard, but because I'm ashamed that it's so easy. It was made the moment I first stepped into the Wrangler and renewed in every perplexing moment since. The need to know, to comprehend, to uncover the truth has been with me all my life, but I never knew its roots ran so deep.

that it would endure so ardently when everything else, everyone else, had been stripped away. I stare into the rearview mirror, seeing myself for the very first time, and I have to admit, I'm scared. Stay where you are, Rob. Okay, Ms. Sharma. You ready? Yeah, I'm ready. All right, then. Suppose it's about time this thing did some good. The shot explodes through the radio before a faint, booming echo reaches me on the quiet city air.

Its effect on the city dwellers is immediate. Their collective melancholy shatters in an instant, replaced by a renewed fixation. Before I know it, the desperate crowd unites once more into a stampeding horde, rushing past the windows of the Wrangler and back down the road towards the source of the noise. They on their way? As the last of the city dwellers disappear behind me, I run my hand across the steering wheel down to the ignition. Yeah, yeah, they're on their way. Okay then, what are you waiting for?

With a fateful twist of the key, the Wrangler roars back to life. The wheels kick against the asphalt, transporting me through the streets of the city. As I barrel away from the intersection, I see a small contingent of pursuers rushing around the corner behind me. Rob fires the rifle again, maintaining the attention of the majority. The stragglers fall away in my rearview mirror, losing ground against the Wrangler. I take the first left, then the next possible right, and another left.

A few minutes later, I eventually find myself on the last stretch of road leading me back into the vast and empty desert. So, you gonna make it? Yeah, I'm gonna make it. Good, that's good. Ms. Sharma, if you find Marjorie, if you get a chance to let me know, well, it's more than I deserve, but... Of course. Of course I will. I appreciate that. Okay, they're gonna be here soon, so I'm gonna go radio silent for a while.

If I call, you'll know I made it out. And if I don't call, you just assume I made it out, okay? Please tell me you're going to be alright, Robin. It's been a real honor driving with you, Ms. Sharma. The sound of a final shot reverberates through the radio. It's echoed drowned out by the roaring engine of the Wrangler. The world shifts around me as I burst out of the city and back onto the desert road. The way ahead is laden with immense possibility. And as I disappear into the vastness of the desert...

I can only think of what I've left behind. Rob J. Guthrie had his flaws. Marked by loss, driven by obsession, his good intentions often paving the way to tragedy and heartbreak. As the tears begin to roll down my cheeks, I decide to remember him differently, as a valued friend, a good man, and above all else, a great story, no matter how you tell it. Yeah,

man yeah that's a great yeah that's how you said that's great that's how you send out a character like that yep yeah wonderful yeah yeah absolutely wonderful and now this that was part nine of part 10 i mean this is the final this is the final one so whatever whatever kind of mysteries are going to be solved here i mean what do you think i mean i guess before we get into the final part do you think um do you think that he was right when he says that the road

wanted her to be the only one to kind of go through and that like maybe it showed that aberration you know all those years ago to him i think so a little bit uh i mean he's the fairy man right he's the one who transports everyone he's got her to the destination or at least far enough that she can get herself the rest of the way i think it was her um i think she's the she's the storyteller in all of this

So yeah, whatever prophecy this road wants to be out here, whatever the left-right game is capable of, I think it wants...

to be the survivor. Even if not the survivor, the one who gets the message out here. Which it seems like, according to the bookend of this, the person sending out these messages, she was, right? She sent out... That's what I was going to say. At some point, we're going to have to see that she sends this out. Also, she's having to transcribe this with one fucking hand, mind you. So, I think that I don't... Part of me... I don't know. Part of me thinks that there is...

something like that she decides to stay or something like that's where my mind's at now i don't think that's true but part of me feels like there is a finite solution to what has happened and how she's able to get stuff i don't think she's gonna outright die there may be some thing similar like she joins the aether she becomes a part you know something like that i don't think she gets out though maybe i mean she got maybe but i don't think she got out

If she got out, I feel like she'd be the one telling this story. Yeah, why would she send it to this guy and not contact him while he's looking for her? Yeah. I think she stays in there. I'm so stoked, though. Yeah, I am too. Man, that was such a good ending. That whole setting was great. Could you imagine, like, people jumping out of buildings and running, but it's completely silent? Like, they're sprinting, like, thousands of people, and there isn't a decibel.

Yeah. That's such a cool visual. That's so cool. It is really. It's very, very cool. That's why I'm like, part 10, let's just get into it. Yeah. We can talk about it afterwards. I'm ready. I think our viewers are probably ready, too. I agree. So part 10 opens with our final word from the guy who is transcribing all this. So here it goes. This is also long, so I'm not going to do that awful British accent. All right. All right. Fine, fine, fine. Well, then, here we are.

I have to be honest, while I posted the first of these logs from my bedroom in North London, I didn't think I would go very far. After all, why would I? I wasn't a regular contributor to this site, nor a seasoned veteran of the paranormal. I was just a man who missed his friend. Seeking a few words of wisdom from an online message board, open to the idea that it wouldn't lead anywhere. Suffice to say, I couldn't have been more wrong.

Over the past two months, the incredible advice I've received from this forum and the amazing leads you've sent my way have opened up entire worlds of possibility. It's thanks to all of you that I'm where I am now.

Sitting in a rental car on a quiet street in Phoenix, Arizona, posting the last of Alice's records. Oh shit, is he going to start the game? He's going to do the left-right game. You stupid son of a bitch. I realize I've written more than usual for my part. Apologies for this. If you want to skip straight to Alice's section, that's fine. Otherwise, please consider this the prologue to the epilogue. It's very, very early in the morning over here, with only the gravest of the graveyard shift out on the streets...

By all rights, I should be in bed, and not wasting petrol on an aimless drive through the city. The ritual helps me think, however, and I'd recently given to a lot to think about, courtesy of a young woman at a local bar. She was a forum member who contacted me over direct message. When we met up earlier in the night, it was clear she'd gone a great deal of research, charting every mirror shop in Phoenix in an attempt to reconstruct the route Alice took on February the 7th, 2017.

We spoke for quite a while about the game, about Alice, and about life in general. Once closing time rolled around, she handed me a printout of the most likely route, with all the key locations circled. Then, in the final minutes before we parted ways, she nervously asked me two questions. The first put me in a rather sour mood. The second provided the fuel for my 3am drive. Question 1. Are you sure she wants you to find her? I've been hearing the same query from a few of you recently, especially since Part 9 was posted.

People commenting that Alice made a clear choice when she left Rob behind in the Silent City, that I was searching for someone who wasn't seeking return. I'd like to take a moment to respond to this, as I responded to it earlier tonight. To be clear, the Alice I know wouldn't do that. She was planning to come back. She told us as much. I'm not going to waste your time with my theories, but we've seen what the road can do to people's minds. Now I can carry them away against their better judgment."

I understand why it's being asked, but if those sort of questions are all you have to offer, I'd kindly ask you to find another way to help. Question two was less clear-cut. What are you going to do now? It's something you guys have also been asking me, but that was the first time I'd heard the question out loud. In the awkward silence that followed, it became obvious to her, and in some ways to me, that I didn't yet have an answer. I decided to take a drive while I figured it out. I've been in my car for the rest of the night. Sigh.

After an hour of aimless meandering, I realized I was close to one of the marked locations, Alleyway, where Alice first entered the underpass. The moment at which she first disappeared into the road, turning into the side street just after a large intersection, I was briefly relieved to see no sign of the tunnel.

The part of me that still hoped this game was a fiction swelled at the sudden lack of evidence. My reaction was short-lived, of course, as I quickly realized that the tunnel wouldn't have shown itself to me anyway. Even if the game were real, I'd hardly been sticking to the rules on my way here. There was no denying that the place resembled Alice's description, however, and with a long time to go until I'd feel remotely tired, I decided to work my way back along the route, retracing Alice's steps towards Rob Guthard's street.

Okay, so I have to admit at this point, I suffered from a momentary lapse in intelligence, and a fog of distraction, residual jet lag, and general dullardry. I drove for longer than I'd cared to admit under the misconception that I wasn't playing the game. I thought this because I was heading in the opposite direction, and had started my run with a right-hand turn, when the rules explicitly state that you begin by turning left.

Of course, as I'm sure you all would have realized immediately, that didn't mean I was out of the game. It just meant I started playing with my first left turn one road later. Alice was always the smart one. What I'm trying to say is that, due to this fairly mindless oversight, I wasn't exactly looking out for the woman in gray as I drove past when she would have been her corner. It wasn't a mirror shop this time, of course. That's only the 34th turn when you're coming the other way.

In fact, I'm not sure which of the many passing streets it was. It is strange, though, as I think back through my journey. I feel like I would have noticed her. The streets were practically deserted, so much so that any pedestrian stood out immediately. I know I should have been looking more closely, but if you ask my honest opinion, I don't think she was there at all. The moment I realized this, I felt it again. The faint, perverse hope that I'd been misled, that the entire story was nothing more than a twisted, elaborate fabrication.

It wasn't long until I passed an old mirror shop and, 34 turns later, arrived on what must have been Alice's starting street. It was an inner-city neighborhood whose residents were all fast asleep. From the moment I realized that the game was in play, I'd been thinking less and less about this particular road, and more about the one directly after it, resting just beyond the crossroads. I'd come halfway across the world on the strength of Alice's account, but I'd seen no first-hand proof of the left-right game.

If the whole thing was a hoax, then the next road should just be another street. If it was real, then I'd know soon enough. I crawled up to the junction with my heart in my throat. With every inch of road that passed under my tires, I found myself hoping more and more that it wouldn't be true. Let someone be playing a prank on me. Let the logs be counterfeit. Let Alice be anywhere else but on that road. I took the corner in a wide arc, parking myself in the center of the crossroads, my headlights facing down the next turn.

ahead of me was a quiet residential street lines of neatly parked cars rows of well-kept yards and squarely drawn windows and at its center and under defiance of the modest surroundings the road sank into a deep and dimly lit corridor cutting beneath the street and disappearing into complete darkness i'd always known it was true

In the presence of the grim confirmation, the question I was asked earlier that night started to ring in my ears. As if echoing out of the tunnel itself, after an entire night's driving, after two full months of searching, I still didn't have a response. In the end, I just left the engine running, as if turning it off would somehow be a sign of retreat, and decided to type up the notes you're reading now.

I thought maybe the process of putting it all down on paper would bring me clarity and leave me with either a note of farewell or a note of apology to Alice for not having what it took to find her. And now, here I am. Still undecided, still writing, still sitting in this rental car on a quiet street in Phoenix, Arizona. Though perhaps the street's not as quiet as I thought. I've just looked back to the previous road, down the street where Alice began her journey.

Did you hear that? Yeah. What did you hear? Like a... What was that? Oh, my wife's home. Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh.

That was my wife doing stuff. Oh my gosh. I thought it was you just moving a cup on your desk. No, no. Okay, I'm sorry. Hold on. What a great time for that too. The rugged features of this weather's face, half lit by the moonlight, and then what was that? Ah, okay. Half lit by the moon. I've never seen this person before, yet he bears a striking resemblance to another man. A man whose description has been well recorded within the pages of Alice's logs.

He watches me in silence, staring through the window of my still-running car. I wonder if he can help. Interesting. So yeah, he did the route backwards, which means he's about to enter the tunnel, which puts him, because he started at the mirror shop, it puts him right next to...

the house. And I guess if someone is lost in there, they can become a, or at least their body can become an agent for the left, right game. So now Rob's body is one of the agents. Yeah. I mean, that's what I'm, that's what I'm thinking for the gray woman as well. I think that now Rob is basically taken on that role as well. Yep. All right. So like you said, we are main guy. He's dead. The guy recording all this super dead. You think so?

Yeah, dude. He either went into the tunnel or the Rob guy attacked him or whatever. If he gets out of the car to go ask him for help, he's super dead. You think the Rob's entity is just like this mindless monster? Well, remember what Marjorie's entity was? It was like trying to break the glass to get to her, like punching it and everything. Yeah, that's true. I'm sure it'd be violent if it got a hold of you. So if this guy walks out of his car, it's kind of funny that the guy said, I wonder, I wonder if he can help. And the guy's just like,

frowning at him looking through the deal. This guy seems chill. I wonder if he can help me. Yeah, he has an impossibly big frown. Yeah, he's like, one second, sir. Let me hit send on my Verizon hotspot. Whatever, so I can upload this to Reddit. All right, perfect. Now, sir, could you help me? And then just immediately gets strangled to death. Yeah.

There's an update later that's like, whoever was posting this, we found his phone. This is the last message, and the message is like garbled text while he's getting gored alive. Yeah, he's saying like, owie, owie, owie. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Just wanted to make sure you guys knew that's what it said. Hiddingson now. Thanks, guys. Be sure to upvote. Let the mods know. Put it in the vote. Okay, anyway. So we're now on to the end. The final entry of the Left Right Game.

February 20th, 2017. The Left/Right Game was once nothing more than a nine-page document peeking out of a yellow envelope resting quietly on my desk. I remember reading it on my lunch break. I remember it made me laugh. The submission had arrived with the first post, quietly making its way around the office, treated by everyone as a short-lived novelty of little journalistic value. The story was easy to dismiss, appearing all too similar to the rambling ghost stories and blurry UFO sightings that filled our mailbox on a daily basis.

and which most of the senior staff had learned to instinctively ignore. Doomed by association, the document was quickly passed over, my desk merely a pit stop on its way to the rejection pile. I was curious, however, and after an uneventful few months of my new role, I had no compunctions about fishing from the scrap heap. Placing the envelope in my satchel, alongside a misfit crowd of similar rejects, I slipped away to a local coffee shop, reading it in an armchair by the window.

Somewhere around page three, between the description of the game's rules and the exhaustive list of required skills, my mouth started to curl into an irrepressible smile. They'd been gloriously wrong about this one. It wasn't some paranoid diatribe, nor a sensationalist plea for attention. Within those pages lay an introductory glimpse of a man's passionate obsession. As I read on, something about his earnest eccentricity, incredible thoroughness, and unquestioning confidence made it impossible to put down.

When I turned the final page, reading the last of Rob Guthard's charming and refreshingly well-formatted submission, I knew that this was the story I wanted to tell. Later that day, I found myself in the editor's office, making a case for it. They didn't quite see what I saw, but I was intent to win them over regardless. I told them the story would be characterful, colorful, thought-provoking, and, at the very least, that I wouldn't be gone long.

It's been 12 days since then, 10 since I first entered the Wrangler in Phoenix, Arizona, 5 since I commandeered it myself, leaving Rob behind in the silent city. I haven't updated much recently, save for a regular set of notes made for my own benefits. In all honesty, after I finished writing up my account of the city, I was struck by an overpowering sense of needlessness. There was no one left to receive these logs, no friends to proofread, no editor to hand them to. It seemed pointless to maintain the same prosaic format as before.

I still largely agree with this assessment. It's only due to a set of exceptional circumstances that I've chosen to type up the following account in full. Whoever this reaches, I want to thank you for reading up to now. I'm quite sure this will be my final installment. Here we go! Alice Shorma! You fucking rule! Let's go, Alice! Woo! Let's go, Alice! Woo! Yeah, you're probably gonna die! Let's go!

But she is the final girl. She is. She is. She is. So congratulations. I love it. It's a, yeah, it's a fun way to incorporate the classic horror trope. It's very fun. Yeah. I dig it. The moon is broken. And in my entire life, I've never witnessed an evening. So still the air is cool and quiet and the Wrangler cuts cleanly through it. As I glide down a stretch of even tarmac, the scene is defined by calm absence, not a cloud in the sky, not a solitary whisper of breeze, not a single blade of grass stirring on the dark green banks beside me.

Yet even on a night as peaceful as this, I can't help but feel far away from home. The city had served as a turning point in that regard. Before we reached those titanic monoliths, the landscapes we passed through generally resembled the world I once knew. A few obvious exceptions aside, there is nothing about the environments that look truly divorced from reality. That's all changed now.

The apparent... The aberrant aspects of this new world are unignorable, constantly hanging at the corner of my eye, passively injecting a sense of wonder and disconcertion into the otherwise silent night. A few days ago, the moon started to crack like old porcelain. I hardly noticed at first. My eyes fixed on the road as it loomed above me, quietly splintering into three jagged pieces. As of tonight, the empty space between each fragment has significantly increased."

If I focused on the sky for a little while, I can almost see them falling away from each other, charting infinite and loathsome trajectories through a barren cosmos against a backdrop of foreign constellations. The stars themselves fall further than they should. The night sky travels down past the horizon and continues below it, wrapping underneath the grassy bank. It's as if the road and the narrow plains on either side are suspended in the middle of a vast abyss, a platform in the middle of open space.

At least, that's what I thought it was at first. It didn't take long before I noticed the broken moon was appearing twice in the sky, both above and below me. A pair of orbiting satellites, identical and in perfect alignment. That's when I realized that there were no stars below me. I was merely staring across a flat surface so flawlessly mirror-like as to cast a perfect reflection of the heavens above. I was driving through the center of a lake. The water is impossibly still. Since leaving the shoreline proper yesterday night,

I've seen neither a wave nor a ripple across its placid surface. It's also undeniably vast, reaching beyond the horizon in every direction and continuing further still. Without being sure how I know, I'm aware that the waters carry for an unspeakable distance, that I would sooner reach the stars themselves before setting foot on its opposite shore. I lean over and switch gears. The act of driving the Ranger was a daunting one at first, but after the first two days I've managed to make do.

An old scarf wrapped tightly around the steering wheel serves as a makeshift handle, allowing me to navigate corners one-handed. I don't have an elegant solution for the gear shift, but I've quickly grown used to the process. If I've learned anything from the road, it's that grace is the first casualty in the fight for survival. Adaptability, no matter how clumsy, outlasted at every turn.

A few minutes later, the wrangler pulls up to a spacious verge, a large circle of land surrounded entirely by dark waters. At the far end, the grass seems to fall away, dropping sharply into the lake with a dead stop. The road continues, of course, but that's the only thing that does. With nothing on either side, it forms a narrow bridge of perfectly flat asphalt raised on a bed of mud and rock.

I press my boot onto the brake pedal, easing the Wrangler to a steady halt at the center of the clearing. For the first time today, I open the car door and climb out of my seat. The dull tap of asphalt shifts to a soft rustling as I make my way over to the lakeside. There's something on the shore. A barely discernible object, almost entirely concealed by a shock of verdant undergrowth. It's a miracle I'd managed to spy it from the road, though perhaps something about the stark uniformity of the landscape had made it stand out.

As I advance toward the water and the object draws near, its indeterminate form solidifies in my mind. It's a human arm, reaching out from the water and onto the bank. I crouch down to examine the few pertinent details. The fingers are still embedded firmly into the soil. The thumbnail is broken, colored by a peeling coat of faded varnish. There's a pallid, emaciated quality to the skin, spreading down the arm until it disappears beneath a thick, woolen sleeve.

At the point it meets the surface, the water soaks into the fabric, turning it black from the original gray. With a sad exhalation, I rise to my feet and lean over the water's edge. The body of Marjorie Guthrie lies against the silt, her cheek resting on the lake bed, her wide bewildered eyes staring out into the open lake. Hold on. Let me make sure I'm qualifying all that right. Her cheek is on the lake bed. Her wide. Okay. She's been almost perfectly preserved.

save for the striking tautness of her skin and it's malt malt malted gray paler she looks exactly like the woman i saw in the 34th turn who tried to repel me from the road it's spoken of a lake drinking her wounds clean so okay so that's so then definitely it's like it basically chews you up and spits you back out into a different likeness into like a new character that's what the road does like that's pretty much what happened at rob at the beginning as well yeah so she's the gray woman

Yeah, do you want me to see what the Grey Woman's lines were while we were here? I have it pulled up. Yeah, we can. Go ahead. Yeah, so when he saw... Might be a good refresher. Yeah, the Grey Woman said, So that's referring to them, right? And then Grey Woman says, Oh, is that talking about the baby? Yeah.

Seems like it. Read it again. He wanted to leave me, so I cut him out. The lake was hungry. It drank the wound clean. How did she make it from the forest all the way here? If she cut the baby out in the forest? Maybe it didn't happen in the forest. Maybe it happened at the lake. I don't know. We'll see as we continue reading. And then she says, as the gray woman...

What do you think you're doing if you got mad? And then the last phrase is, would you dance down the lion's tongue? It will shred you, you whore. It will shred you down to your sins. The lion's tongue. Interesting. Anyway, things to consider. So yeah, here's... Anyway, here's Margaery's body.

It seems her ramblings weren't completely void of fact. It's clear to see that Marjorie has been exsanguinated so completely. In fact, that the only evidence that blood ever flowed through her veins is a large dark stain across her shredded blouse. Does it take long? That's gotta be, that's gotta be where the baby came out. Yeah. It doesn't take long before the perpetrator makes itself known. As I stare into the water, a steady, Oh, wait a minute.

Yeah, so the giant deformed thing that came running at them, that kept running down the road, that was Rob's son. Yeah, seems like it. So the only three monsters we've seen, like actual monsters, have been the three Guthrids. It's been Rob Jr., Marjorie, and their unborn child.

What about the hitchhiker, though? That's what I mean by, like, monsters. Like, it's a monstrous, like, you know... Deformed creature thing. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, true. I consider the hitchhiker to be more like the people of Jubilation. Like, thinking entities. No, no, that's fair. I think that also, like, the monsters are the only odd anomalies not from this world, is what it seems like. Yes, correct. So it seems like everything in this world has this kept, like, physique to it. Whereas...

The humans that get contorted become these things. Yep. Interesting. Cool. Okay. Okay.

I find myself entirely transfixed by the still water as a myriad of generous offerings unfold in throughout my consciousness. The whispers suggest an end to the phantom pains in my absent arm, perhaps even a completely restored limb, stronger than it had been before. Furthermore, it shows me a glimpse of its incomprehensible span, its furthest bank reaching across countless worlds, its deepest point lying below everything.

i'm offered total knowledge of every league every fathom every inconceivable shore my hand reaches down as the whispers continue every bargain steeped in sweet benefit beneficence a moment later my outstretched fingers brush against the soft grass wrap around marjorie's exposed arm dealing my heels into the ground i lean myself backwards and pull the water ripples and splashes as i drag marjorie's lifeless body slowly onto the bank

I feel the voices in my mind grow louder, erupting in anger as I back away from the lake. The promises had been convincing, each quiet solicitation undeniably persuasive. But after seeing Marjorie's wretched fate and the look of eternal betrayal in her vacant eyes, I found myself aware of a subtle undercurrent behind every syllable. A sense of desperation and timeless hunger emanating from beneath the lake's surface.

I already have a clear understanding of what would have happened if I'd lost myself to those waters. I suspect it's no coincidence that of the countless shores it showed me, all of them appeared to be deserted. Marjorie wouldn't have stood a chance. She'd left the forest alone, grievously wounded and without a vehicle. She'd walked the whole way here, bleeding endlessly, the road's rejuvenating power battling every moment against her body's natural inclination to die.

i suspect the road's influence wasn't strong enough and when a whispering voice promised ever so sweetly to mentor she would have been in no position to refuse okay so she gets to the forest the child is c-sectioned right maybe i don't know what happens from there maybe he okay so when bobby showed up to the er his leg was damaged right

Maybe he C-sectioned the child and the child became the monster. Maybe he thought both of them died, that the child was stillborn and she died or something. Yeah.

Maybe something like that, but she keeps walking and then she gets to this lake that goes on forever. The lake shows you promises of infinite shores, basically tries to entice you to come to the waters. I like how Alice describes it as being hungry, almost like it's trying to trick food into coming into it. But Marjorie, who had been broken for this long, let herself go to it.

Yeah, I mean, probably in agony the whole way there. Yeah. I mean, granted, I mean, the Wrangler, she had to walk through the Silent City and everything. Yep. Go through all those places. Probably, I mean, just also mentally probably just completely gone. Yeah. I don't know how you could do that. I mean... But the lake drank the wound clean, or licked the wound clean, I should say. Her other sleeve brushes against dry land, her body leaving the water for the first time in decades. I keep pulling until my boots hit asphalt, laying her down on the grass just behind the Wrangler.

After a moment of sober visual, I walk back to the car and fetch Rob's foldable spade. A long few hours follow. I've never dug someone's grave before, and my injury is hardly conducive to the task. My fleece tied around my waist, pearls of sweat running down my brow, I manage to slowly chip away at the damp earth.

Five hours later, my back cramping, my hand raw from gripping the shovel, I attempt to lower Marjorie into the rough pit with some semblance of grace, her legs dropping limply into the soft soil despite my best efforts. It takes over an hour to shovel the soil back. It's a sobering and ugly task. As a layer of dirt covers her face, I realize this will be the last time a living person lays their eyes on Marjorie Guthrie.

Burying her suddenly feels disrespectful, as if it's an act I don't have the right to perform. Once it's done, I drop onto my knees, a dull ache in my muscles, as I smooth out the disturbed ground with the back of the shovel. Ew. I was just about to remark how kind this is of Alice to bury her, but then... Yeah, much like Rob. Even before I turn to face her, I can hear a scowl in her voice.

There's an odious depth to that once-accurate syllable, a potent witch's-brew of contempt and accusation that feels like it's been festering in her drowned lungs for decades. Reluctantly, I rise to my feet and turn around, finding myself face to face with the woman I just buried. She looks different now. Her clothes are dry, her skin clear, for nothing to be seen of the deep, dark gash in her blouse. "Marjorie!" Unlike the empty vessel below us, the woman in front of me is by no means at peace.

She shakes and wretches with the same indignant fury I witnessed when we first met. When she speaks, her words shudder under the weight of her own turbulent emotions. I chased you. I ran to you. I gave him up for you. I'm sorry, Marjorie. I don't know what you mean. Tell me what you mean. The things I saw, things so beautiful. And I saw her walking along through the new world. I gave everything up for you.

I don't know quite what to say. It's pointless to ask her what she means, to try and understand her frantic ramblings. In the end, I can only try to speak her language. Marjorie, I didn't mean you to. Marjorie's trembling breaths burst into a despairing fit of laughter. No! Yes, you did! Yes, you did! And now, now you're here! Marjorie's wild and volatile demeanor shifts once more, her laughter degrading further into a desperate crying panic. And what do I do now?!

"What? What do I do?" Margaery cringes with the terror of the self-imposed question, placing her head in her hands and repeating it over and over again. As I watch her wrestle with despair, I'm struck by an idea I've never before considered: the disconcerting notion that, in death, we are not transported to a set destination by some ethereal attendant. That, in fact, nothing is decided for us. Perhaps the manner in which we spend our afterlife is down to us, a decision we have to make ourselves.

Archery is standing over her own lifeless body, still lost, still entirely unmoored. There's no sign of boundless paradise, inescapable damnation, or everlasting nothingness, and the common thread they share, a final release from the weight of our own agency, is similarly absent. Perhaps we never get that freedom. Perhaps we continue like we always do, accompanied by all our imperfections, uncertainty, and discontent. Perhaps we must choose our eternity.

After all my time on the road, that's possibly the most terrifying notion I've encountered. He never stopped looking for you, you know. Marjorie snaps out of her wretched despair, instantly aware of who I'm referring to, staring up at me with an expression I've never seen her wear before. I saw him, walking on the road. He didn't stop. He was never going to stop. I think he was looking for you, Marjorie. He still is. Marjorie stares through me.

For the first time since we met on that quiet Phoenician corner, I could see the faint spark of something other than misery and rage across her tear-stained face. I hold her gaze for a moment more before pulling my phone from my pocket. In a single sweep of my contacts, I delete every number except for one. A number I pulled from an Ikea during our second night on the road. A number that connects to a lost wonder of the road. I don't know if this can help, but stranger things have happened.

She stares up into my eyes. I feel like we're finally meeting for the first time. Without a word, Marjorie reaches out a quivering hand and takes the phone from my outstretched fingers. Before I can say anything more, Marjorie Guthrie is gone. A few moments later, a refreshing breeze lands against my cheek, a soft zephyr cooling my still warm face. It's a welcome sensation and the first movement I've witnessed in the air since I set out onto the lake.

Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I stare quietly along the bridge, the breeze picking up behind me. It's a subtle wind at first, brushing stray hairs across my forehead, chilling the perspiration on my neck. Then as I reach my hand out and feel the air slip between my fingers, I'm witness to a steady rise in both strength and magnitude.

The sound of the wind grows from a whisper to a howl. Seconds later, the hanging sleeves of my fleece begin to stream sideways. My hair lifts from my back, billowing in the throes of a developing gale. I pick up against the wrangler's hood as the air finally erupts into a roaring cough in a cyclone. My hand reflexively seeks the sturdy frame of the wrangler, my fingers wrapping around the grill, my arm tensing at the unrelenting wind threatens to drag me from the road.

Squinting through the violent tempest, I focus on a single point in space. Just above the threshold of the bridge, in the midst of the storm, a jagged line of white hot light bursts out of the aether, tearing through the night's fabric, a crackling fissure that widens and yawns, forcing apart the curtains of reality as they frenetically struggle to recombine. Staring through the shuddering fracture, I'm subjected to the briefest glimpse of a boundless and impossible vista.

It is a faraway place in both distance and time. A nakedly beautiful and gloriously terrifying dreamscape endearing on the majestic shores of infinity. Every moment there spans a millennium and unfolds in countless directions at once. Every passing shadow holds a darkness beyond measure. Their edges burned by the glare of a waking sun, which looks across every conceivable word with a hollow rancorous intent.

In the midst of this maddening landscape, a singular entity approaches, gliding towards the portal with the clear intent to pass through. As it breaches the shuddering gateway and the wind dies down around it, I stare up at its grand celestial form. The being is unlike anything I've ever seen. Composed entirely from electrical arcs of brilliant, magnescent light which burst from a volatile and blinding central core, it looks like a lightning storm.

its plasmatic tendrils snapping and crackling bursting chaotically through the night air before collapsing in on themselves as they fall back into the creature's center they emit pale clouds of porous fractals that fade softly into the air somehow even as my eyes barely adjust to the stark light I realize that the entity usually burns much brighter it's dampened its glow for my benefit so that it can appear before me without scorching my eyes from their sockets it's you isn't it

You're the voice I've been hearing. You're the one who brought me here. The bristling maelstrom of light hangs in the air, crackling and shifting, its transient limbs strobing with chaotic incandescence. Part of me wants to hide, part of me wants to run, but neither are an option anymore. Releasing my hand from the Wrangler's grill, I take a single step forward, standing on my own, and staring up into the entity's smoldering core. Can I get an interview? It's gonna be kind of fun. I mean, what else are you gonna do, right? Nah.

The creature doesn't react. In the following silence, I feel it observing me. When it finally responds, its voice ruptures the night, echoing through my skull. There is little time, but you may ask what questions you have. Each reverberating syllable forms a string of literal shockwaves in the surrounding lake, emanating outwards from the being in a perfect circle. I watch the waves roll in the distance, showing no sign of ever diminishing, and I think about what questions to ask first. In the end, it comes to me quickly.

A promise is a promise, after all. What happened to Margaery? Why did she do what she did? The being pauses, as if considering its response. When it does reply, it speaks with a calm sobriety. She glimpsed an echo of the future, dreamed of the road, of the things it passed through. Like whatever's through there. I gesture through the gateway, which is now almost entirely blocked from view by the creature's spiraling form. She dreamed of untold frontiers.

Those three words, as they burst into the open air, casting three narrow waves across the boundless water, hit me with a deep and heavy force. Unbeknownst to myself, decades before I was even born, Marjorie had been driven insane by dreams of maddening grandeur, of a life of boundless possibility and true significance.

She'd given everything up to chase a shadow. A shadow that eventually turned out to be mine. I hadn't just pulled Rob into this game. I was the reason for everything. I was the cause for the tragedy that befell his entire family. "She didn't just dream those sights. You influenced her. You let her see them. The same way you made Rob see me and... Oh, Akihara. You pushed and prodded wherever you needed so that I'd end up here. Are you the reason Bobby got the rules in the first place?" "Yes."

But why? You toyed with so many lives across... across decades. Why me? Why does it matter that I traveled the road? Because across all humanity, across every conceivable permutation, you are the one who makes it the furthest. It speaks plainly, as if the statement was a foregone conclusion. Yet, its words strike me into silence. The creature continues. I've watched you work your way here, through skill and through tenacity.

In response to my words, the entity remained silent for longer than usual.

I care more than you know. There are things greater than your understanding. Forces that exist beyond the realms of your comprehension that you would consider a threat to everything you hold dear. My actions were guided by a higher standard of knowledge. Your protests are predicted on false understanding. You're saying I don't understand death? You don't. That still doesn't make it right. Regardless, my influence is necessary. That which is necessary must be. What even are you?

I cannot answer that question in any way you'd understand. That's good enough. That's not good enough? Oh, that's not good enough. Yeah, that's definitely a different hit. That's not good enough. The creature doesn't respond, as if it doesn't feel it needs to. So far, it's returned by every argument with impenetrable certainty. From the domain it occupies, knowing what it knows, my arguments must seem entirely facile.

Even if it did feel the need to justify itself, after seeing the place it hails from, I wonder if there's any way I could ever comprehend its motives. Still, that doesn't mean my arguments are invalid. And the creature's lofty dispassion does little more than stoke my desire to oppose it. And what if I don't want any part of this? You are traveling the Abarant Strand, a singularly-stabled flaw in the fabric of reality. As it carries you further from the world you know, you'll be freed from the influence of the old laws.

That's the only reason? Do you need another?

No.

No, I don't trust you. I don't. Your trust is immaterial. You will travel the road regardless. The creature's already stark glow starts to intensify. I've watched you on every turn, across every moment of your journey. One of the creature's countless protrusions lashes out at the empty air, forming another harsh, glowing fissure. It wrenches itself open in a few stilted jolts, a transparent, almost crystalline membrane stretched across the gap.

Through it, I can see myself in the center of a cornfield examining a block of C4 explosive. It's as if I'm staring into the past through a jagged shard of one-way glass. I've watched you questioning. Though we can't be seen through the aperture, I see the glass-like membrane shake with the force of the creature's voice. As the window collapses, I can see the rows of corn thrown into a frenzy. A second arc lashes out of the sky, forming a second aperture.

This time I'm expecting the sight before me. I see myself, crying in the forest. A silent radio bus by my side. I've watched you struggle. The second window closes. The creature has made its point. I've watched you fight. To make your way here, you will not turn around. You make it sound like I don't have a choice. You do have a choice, Alice. But you have already made it. As much as I've grown to detest the creature's presumption, in that moment, I know it's right. What it's saying is true.

Can I?

Do I get to say goodbye? The entity says nothing. It hangs in the air, flickering and coursing with rupturing bolts of light. The next thing I hear is a faint, mechanical hum emanating from the wrangler behind me. Turning around, I pace briskly back to the car, opening the door and reaching into the passenger seat. My notebook is booting up, seemingly of its own accord. Picking up the laptop, I lift the lid as I march back towards the bridge. I stare up at the silent being before me.

When I look down to the laptop, my email client is already displayed on the screen. How long do I have? Long enough. The entity begins to regress, its arc diminishing as the being at its core turns away. Its message has been delivered. There's nothing more to discuss. As it passes through the gateway into an unknowable world far removed from my own, I call out after it. I'm still not certain I can trust you.

The being focuses on me once more. As the fracture begins to close, a final set of waves pass across the surface of the lake as it solemnly replies, "I remember." A moment later, the being is gone. I stand motionless in the middle of the road, the entity's final remarks washing over me, its curious choice of words echoing in my mind. In the renewed silence, the faint strings of an overwhelming and terrible revelation start to form in my mind.

It could have simply said that it knew of my mistrust, that it heard the overtones in my voice, saw the disdain across my face, or otherwise sensed it in the space between us. Instead, the bean spoke as if my current feelings were a memory, dwelling somewhere within its depths. It was undeniable that my time on the road was changing me, but in all this time, I never truly considered how those changes might evolve as my journey continues.

I never thought about what I might gain, what I might lose, or about what I might inevitably become. Short while passes before I lower my eyes from the empty space above the bridge to the screen of my notebook. Lowering myself down, I cross my legs and rest my back against the wrangler. If you've been reading from the beginning, you finally caught up with me. I hope you'll allow me a few personal messages. To Rob, I hope you're able to read this someday, and I am so, so sorry for everything I've done.

for everything I may do. I hope you understand that I didn't know and that none of this was your fault. You did the best you could and the days I spent with you were the most significant of my life. It was an honor to know you and I hope that among these pages you find the answers and the peace that you deserve. To my mom and dad, I'm sorry I won't be sending this to you. In the end, I was carried along this road by a profound selfishness and just can't bring myself to face you.

I can't imagine the pain I'll be putting you through, and I won't try to justify my actions. All I can say is that I love you. I'm sorry that my last act towards you was one of cowardice. And finally to you, the person to whom this message will be addressed: I'm sorry. I always thought I'd see you again someday, that the roads I took would eventually lead me home. That doesn't look so likely now. Though I could say a lot to you, I'm not going to. But I wish we could have been friends for longer.

It feels like a lifetime since I first arrived at Rob Guthard's quiet street. I remember the uncertainty as I waited for him to open his door, with no conceivable idea what was about to transpire. Like so many other things, that's now changed. Despite being in an entirely new world, further from home than anyone's ever been, I know exactly what's going to happen next. I'm going to take a drive, take a left, then the next possible road on the right, then the next possible left.

I'll repeat the process ad infinitum until I wind up somewhere new. From there I'll keep driving. Beyond worlds, beyond time, beyond the bounds of my imagining. To a place where the lake runs dry. Where the broken moon drifts away. And the stars disappear in the rear view. To a place where everything has fallen away and the road is all there is. Hmm. End. End of story. Hmm.

What a crazy turn for the end. I expected it was... Philosophically, almost like fucking fantasy-driven ending. I was expecting it to kind of go that way because I was getting... Like, do you see all these different worlds and realms and stuff like that? I was expecting the ending of it to be very ethereal, especially because the idea of a sort of god of the realm had been hyped up a lot with the voice she kept hearing. I think it's a cool look...

I mean, I think it's a cool touch how when he opened the aperture and said, I saw you then or whatever, that was the voice she heard while she was just sitting in the field and didn't know where it came from. And the same when she was crying under the tree. So all she was hearing is her conversation with him in the future, much like how the visions they had been seen is the vision that like Rob had of her or the visions that Marjorie had of her. Everyone had been seeing the visions of her because she ultimately becomes the pilgrim who makes the longest voyage. Yeah.

There's an interesting comment on this thread here that said that, is the entity Alice? And I thought that's kind of interesting. Yeah, actually, that's a good point, because...

she says, I don't trust you. And the entity says, I remember. I bet you're right. That is, that probably is Alice at some eventual point. It's also the whole thing too about like the entity is speaking with such a sureness because they're just like, I already know you're going to go. Like I, we've already lived this kind of thing. The choice has been made. Yeah. And now she's like so far beyond these kind of, yeah. Like she's now this like godlike entity that has like traveled through space and time and you know,

All this kind of stuff. Wow. What a rollercoaster. You know what I mean? There's a bunch of different things. These are some of the things I had written down. Some of the things that I was going to see what you thought. Do you think that the bookend, the guy who is delivering this message, right? That at some point, also, some point along the way, she's able to...

send this message off right in this discernible point in time which also makes the entity thing feel more like her because he could or the entity could just like send it out however yeah and then also it's like at a time to to rob's you know kind of thing just wanting humanity to know the entity would almost want the story out there too that it's just like this thing exists right

Oh, that's also... Hold on. That also... The whole idea that she's the entity leads into the creature saying, I care more than you could know. Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, you were saying... Do I think what? Do you think that the bookend guy who's delivering this message, they made the beginning of it so casual that, in a way, it almost feels like Neon Tempo kind of gave him this purpose on the very last thing. Like, on the very last note, it feels like he...

has a bit more stake in it and him falling into the left-right game. Do you think that throughout the story there should have been more at the beginning with him divulging into that too? I think so. I think there was a little bit where he'd be like, oh, I'm going to try to get this. Oh, someone said they found where this location is.

There was stuff like that that sure technically did it, but you should... I think he needed more development until just the last entry. Sure. Because I love Rob's placement there at the end. I think it's great. But it feels like he... The author maybe came across to those pieces late. Which, you know, it's a big piece of... I mean, this is a huge text. Big story, yeah. So it's like, I wonder if he came to this conclusion...

later on and he was like oh this is perfect i'm gonna put it here because i love having rob there and being this entity of like and you kind of know that the guy who's delivering this message is going to pass or whatever even though once again it's like him saying it like you know i wonder if he could help on the road it's just how did the thing get uploaded i mean you know you can go back and forth forever it doesn't really matter but yeah i think he is dead i think that guy's definitely dead

Even if he does go straight into the tunnel, like Rob has all this equipment and food and stuff. Like sure. Eventually you don't need it, but the first few days you do, and this guy's in a rental car, like good luck. Yeah. I mean the, I think that it leads me to another thing. It's another thing I wrote down was blue Jays descent into madness is a very natural conclusion. And I liked the trajectory it went of this person who is so, who's basically unable to, uh,

unable to justify the reality that they're in now, I think is fun. Like that kind of descent into madness is cool. I just wish that we got more or like, you know, there's, it's hard because it's all from the perspective of Alice and her logs. Right. I guess there was a couple of times where we saw blue Jay kind of like, Oh, she was horrified. And they got these nice little moments of like, you could definitely tell she was creeped out.

But I'm wondering, did you feel like her turn there, do you think it felt abrupt or something? Like, do you think that her snap there felt a bit kind of... I mean, I don't think it was that bad. I get where you're coming from. No, no, no. I'm not saying it's bad. I think that the progression is there. I just wish I... Like, I'm just wondering if there should have been more signs of...

Cause there was some, right. There is definitely some signs of her going up and being like, look what you look, what he's making you do. And it doesn't feel justified. Cause you're like, what are you talking about? You're going crazy. And I'd like maybe just a couple more of those would have made her snap there. Feel like, yeah, we just knew that branch was going to break at some point. I think the moment that does it, that kind of justifies her being physically violent is,

is when she gets attacked by the child and saved and she's like oh you actually cut me so if she if she has convinced herself this is all a game then these people who are running the game just physically cut her she knows the cut and the blood is real so she's like for the first time i think in that moment she thinks her life's in danger so that's what makes her go like oh i have to defend myself now these guys are crazy they're gonna get me killed yeah i just like that whole sequencing um

The C4 thing is kind of funny. It dips into a funny, cheesy little thing just because it's funny how you said that, and it's like, yeah, she does get blown up by C4, but I like that whole progression. I am glad that the C4 went somewhere. Yeah, I mean, they were definitely prepping that up to be something. And then the last little note that I wrote here, and I'm curious what you think, is the way the story, in my opinion, parallels Dante's Inferno and that kind of...

that kind of trajectory. I did have that thought with the ferryman and whatnot. The ferryman with that Alice feels like a Dante character kind of going down each one of these worlds or these kinds of places. It feels like Alice in Wonderland is of itself kind of a Dante's Inferno, not specifically to the tears or anything, but the idea of being led into the alternate world. Yeah, sure. All the layers of hell, all that kind of stuff. Even the corn looking back on it.

Kind of has like an Elysian Fields kind of vibe to it. That golden glow and stuff. All that kind of stuff I think feels...

just an interesting parallel. I just, it feels like it's just an, it's a cool influence. I just thought, but all in all it's, it's interesting. It's weird with this kind of story, right? How do you end it? How do you put a finite into something that is supposed to be infinite? And I think that it does a good job. Like, I like the idea of these things that make you think a bit of like this entity that this maelstrom, this kind of just like embodiment of energy through time and space is, is,

potentially Alice from, you know, who knows how many years or, you know, inconceivable amounts of time into the, you know, however future or whatever comes back to guide her into this thing. And also, you know, even the next part to like almost like the end of the road feels like the spot of like this, this like landscape, this, this, this kind of, uh, beautiful, almost unimaginable, uh,

that's in front of her. Kind of feels like a heaven, in a way. Like, it kind of has that kind of vibe of being beautiful, and I don't think she's necessarily afraid of it, and she's even able to go. Like, she's gonna just keep driving until there's nothing, you know? And it seems like she did get there, eventually. Yeah, I think it, um...

it's somewhere outside of our reality, somewhere understandable. Like I like that mentioned the end that she started thinking of the impossible. There was, that was hinted in the city where she understood how the creatures worked without really needing to see much of them. Like ideas were being indebted to her. So I think the, the end result of that is becoming some ethereal being and whatever land that creature came from, that may be herself is also a land of the unexplainable. Um,

It makes Marjorie's tale so tragic that she got to that point and it wasn't meant for her. I think it's very... Yeah, she wasn't the Messiah. She was just a prophet, right? Yeah.

yeah and i think that there's that there's that kind of resentment she has to um alice that feels justified but yeah i mean the gutherds just got fucked in this whole scenario i mean it was like it wasn't their story they thought it was their story but it wasn't yep yeah they thought that especially rob thought that he had just something so special that's that's honestly one of the most tragic parts of the whole thing that they found it they thought it was theirs but it wasn't meant to be

Yeah. I also think it's interesting how when she, when Alice hands her the phone and is like, you can talk to him, she just disappears. It's like she was resolved, right? Like everything that was wrong with her was fixed in that moment that she could find her husband again. Yeah. Well, especially Alice delivering that too feels very poignant to like, almost like an angel, like kind of an angelic quality of some kind. It's, it's very interesting. It's such a different approach to all the other stuff that we've read too, that I think it's, um,

It was just such a fun read. Such an epic. Like an odyssey. It feels so poignant to a Greek tragedy, is what it feels like to me. Of Odysseus trying to come home in just this giant epic. Very, very visual. Very fun. And just so... It really shows...

just a lot of imagination and I think it shows a lot of like what this medium can do and just kind of the, there's no rules really. I mean, just like just such a beautiful string of ideas and yeah, I really enjoyed this one. Such a fun read. That was such a fun story. I'll say definitively, uh, neon tempo, um, hats off. That's one of the funnest stories I've read in a long, long time. Um,

Yeah. It had creepy moments, but it had creepy moments, but it felt, like I said, it felt like almost fantastical at the end. Like it felt kind of like, I almost wouldn't even say horror. Like I did. It just felt like just, uh, I can only equate it to an odyssey, like just a grand epic. Yeah. That's what it felt like. An odyssey. Yeah. Yeah.

So... Awesome. Like we said, Neon Tempo fucking killed it. That was awesome. I'm sure... Like I said, he emailed us before... In between the first episode and this episode. So ask...

made sure and asked him if there was anything new that he was working on or anything else that we wanted to plug, we were going to go ahead and put that in the description. So please, if you're fascinated by this work, please do reach out and, or please do click the link below and check out some more of his work because I know I certainly will. Yep. And I'll also mention for everyone who enjoyed this,

And like who either wants to rehear it and like a more cinematic format other than us making jokes the whole time, which I don't know why you want that or anything. Um, but, or if you want to introduce the story to someone outright who just want to hear it, one of the best ways to take in this story is, uh, so the author Jack Anderson or neon tempo, uh, similar to Boroska Q code adapted it into an entire, uh, podcast, uh,

Yeah. I think Dylan. Yeah.

which not to make it a Marvel reference, but if you all have seen the Thor movies, she plays Valkyrie or like Avengers end game and stuff like that. So she's pretty high budget actress, uh,

Yeah. I mean, these people put like an all out production behind it. It's, it's definitely like in terms of if you don't want to hear just two guys riffing and mispronouncing words and stumbling over stuff. I mean, it's like the definitive way to have a complete immersion, um, immersible, immersible, immersion experience, immersive, immersive experience. Good God. Yep. Yep. Uh, and it's got like, you know, a bunch, a bunch of other cool people to cast. Anyway, well,

We'll also link that in the description. So if you want to hear that whole story, like in honestly a better way than we delivered it, check it out there. But really like Jack Anderson, we're going to talk to him and see what all like he wants us to throw like upcoming projects and stuff. But just, I think, you know what, after that, as a rule of thumb, anything Jack Anderson does probably worth checking out.

so yeah it's always fun such a cool great author awesome artist i mean just really fun that imagination has got to have some more cool stuff in its noggin so very sweet but that's the left right game let's not let's not forget also a listener of the show which is the true above all else merit of someone's worth as that's true if they that is true that's how you know that they're good people exactly

Exactly. Which, I mean, that's the left-right game. We made it through another classic. Man. This is so sick. I mean, I don't know what we are going to do next, but that's going to be a tough one to follow. So I'm very curious. It was a banger. It was in fact a banger. Yeah.

So we appreciate you guys sticking with us for these super long episodes. We hope you've enjoyed it and we will catch you in the next one. Absolutely. Thank you all so much for watching. It means the world. Check out those links in the description and above all else. Thank you for being here. Bye bye now. Bye bye.