DAY: JUNE 5 2024
6-5-2024

The phenomenon of prospective memory and how to improve it

Have you ever walked into a room and then wondered why you went there? If you’ve experienced this phenomenon, you’ve had a prospective memory lapse. Memory usually means remembering things that have already happened. But prospective memory is the ability to remember to do something in the future—such as stopping to get milk on the way home from work, calling your mom on her birthday or remembering to take your casserole out of the oven. Sometimes, errors lead to heartbreaking results—such as forgetting to take your toddler out of the
6-5-2024

How can busy people also keep fit and healthy? Here’s what the ancient Greeks and Romans did

Many people today worry about how to find time to keep fit and healthy in the midst of their busy lives. Believe it or not, but this was also a problem in ancient times. So, how did ancient people deal with it? A universal problem The physician Galen, who lived from around 129 to 216 AD, dealt with thousands of patients in the city of Rome. He used to complain some people didn’t devote enough
6-5-2024

Infant-toddlers’ play and imagination sparked by adult involvement

Adults play an essential role in helping the development of play and imagination among infants and toddlers, new research by an Australian Catholic University academic in partnership with Monash University shows. The research reveals infants and toddlers as young as four months can engage in collective imagining with the help of adults. They gradually demonstrate an understanding of the changing roles of play items such as toy trucks from being concrete objects, to artifacts, to props. Lead researcher and ACU associate lecturer Susan Yu said the findings showed the importance
6-5-2024

Pregnancy is an engineering challenge—diagnosing, treating preterm birth requires understanding its mechanics

Why are babies born prematurely? Researchers still don’t really know. Obstetricians are very good at managing the process of birth. But when it comes to predicting whether a baby will be born in a timely manner, the science is still catching up. Research on the causes of preterm birth is decades behind that of other conditions such as cancer. That means nurses, doctors, midwives and doulas don’t have the tools and resources they need to do the best job possible when babies are born before 37 weeks of pregnancy. One
6-5-2024

Smart thermostats provide sleep insights at home

A new study to be presented at the SLEEP 2024 annual meeting, held in Houston, Texas, June 1–5, offers a framework for an objective, non-invasive and zero-effort sleep monitoring system utilizing smart thermostats equipped with motion sensors. Results show that smart thermostats identified three distinct sleep quality clusters, with clear variations in sleep duration, disturbances and efficiency. Comparative analysis underscored the heterogeneity in sleep quality, highlighting the potential of smart devices and NextGen IoT data sources in identifying sleep patterns and contributing to sleep research without invasive monitoring. “Even though
6-5-2024

Why do teens have sex early? Family, neighborhood are big factors

Teens who come from close-knit neighborhoods and families are less likely to have sex at a young age, while teens’ schools have less influence on their sexual behavior, a new study led by UC San Francisco found. The findings could help educators and public health officials direct resources more effectively to prevent unplanned pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases and other negative outcomes from having sex at a young age. For the study in the Journal of Adolescent Health, researchers asked 4,001 adolescents from 751 neighborhoods and 115 schools in Alabama, California
6-5-2024

Salmonella outbreak may be linked to recalled cucumbers, CDC says

This undated photo provided by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration shows cucumbers recalled for salmonella. Cucumbers contaminated with salmonella bacteria may have sickened and hospitalized dozens of people in at least 25 states, U.S. health officials said Wednesday, June 5, 2024. Cucumbers contaminated with salmonella bacteria may have sickened and hospitalized dozens of people in at least 25 states, U.S. health officials said Wednesday. Testing detected salmonella in a cucumber distributed by Fresh Start Produce, of Delray Beach, Florida, which last
6-5-2024

Researchers find no evidence that sperm counts are dropping

The widely held view that sperm counts in men are dropping around the world may be wrong, according to a new study by University of Manchester, Queen’s University in Kingston, Canada and Cryos International, Denmark. Using data from 6,758 men from four cities in Denmark applying to be sperm donors at the world’s largest sperm bank, Cryos International, the study is published in the journal Human Reproduction. Declining sperm counts, identified by two recent and influential meta-analyses—combining and synthesizing the results of previous studies—have become widely publicized in the mainstream 6-5-2024

Brain imaging study shows how THC in cannabis disrupts brain activity and may cause cognitive impairment

A new study led by investigators from Massachusetts General Hospital reveals that the main psychoactive component in cannabis or marijuana disrupts the normal connections and activity of the brain’s prefrontal cortex, a region that is crucial for decision-making and self-control. The findings are published in the Neuropsychopharmacology. “We know that ?9-tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, in cannabis can affect thinking and behavior and potentially lead to cognitive impairment,” said senior author Jodi M. Gilman, Ph.D., director of Neuroscience at the Massachusetts
6-5-2024

Prenatal supplements fall far short in crucial nutrition during pregnancy—most women don’t even know it

If there’s one thing doctors agree on, it’s that all of their pregnant patients should take prenatal supplements. As a result, about 3 in 4 expecting mothers follow their doctor’s advice. But even though they’re crucial for the health of mother and baby alike, prenatal supplements are unregulated. There are no rules that require these supplements to contain any nutrients at all, let alone the appropriate doses. Not surprisingly, research shows that none of the most widely available over-the-counter prenatal supplements—whether they are tablets, capsules, soft gels or gummies—provide adequate
6-5-2024

Study reveals high rate of drowsy driving by teens

A new study presented at the SLEEP 2024 annual meeting found that drowsy driving by teenagers is a common threat to public safety on U.S. roadways. The research abstract was published in an online supplement of the journal Sleep. Results of the National Sleep Foundation study show that approximately one in six adolescent drivers reported having driven drowsy. Based on these responses, the authors project that 1.7 million teenage drivers have driven drowsy, and more than 400,000 teens drive drowsy at least once per week. The majority of teens pointed
6-5-2024

Getting more sleep leads to increased gratitude, resilience and flourishing

A new study found that healthy sleep has a positive impact on gratitude, resilience and flourishing in adults. Results show that subjective sleepiness and mood disturbances improved with earlier bedtimes that extended sleep by an average of 46 minutes per night and worsened with later bedtimes that reduced nightly sleep by an average of 37 minutes. Measures of flourishing, resilience and gratitude significantly improved across the week with sleep extension
6-5-2024

Study suggests parents ‘do’ have power over tweens’ screen use

For many parents, it can feel like curbing kids’ screen use is a losing battle. But new research from UC San Francisco (UCSF) has found the parenting practices that work best to curb screen time and addictive screen behavior: restricting screens in bedrooms and at mealtimes and modeling healthy practices at home. Researchers asked 12- to 13-year-olds how often they used screens for everything but school, including gaming, texting, social media, video chatting, watching videos and browsing the internet; and whether their screen use was problematic. Then, they asked parents
6-5-2024

Shared genetic links between sleep and neuropsychiatric conditions may lead to new treatments

Disturbed sleep is very common in almost all neuropsychiatric and neurodevelopmental conditions (NDPCs), such as autism, attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder, schizophrenia, and bipolar disorder. While it is understandable that the symptoms of such conditions would lead to sleep disruption and also that sleep disruption would worsen symptoms in these conditions, Irish researchers have now found new genetic associations between some of these conditions and chronotype, the behavioral manifestations of an individual’s circadian rhythm (“night owl” or “early bird)”. These findings may point the way to the development of new
6-5-2024

Babies use ‘helpless’ infant period to learn powerful foundation models, just as ChatGPT does

Babies’ brains are not as immature as previously thought, rather they are using the period of postnatal “helplessness” to learn powerful foundation models similar to those underpinning generative AI, according to a new study. The study, led by a Trinity College Dublin neuroscientist and just published in the journal Trends in Cognitive Sciences, finds for the first time that the classic explanation for infant helplessness is not supported by modern brain data. Compared to many animals, humans are helpless for a long time
6-5-2024

New study redefines how antidepressants aid in treating major depressive disorder

Researchers have established a new framework for understanding how classic antidepressants work in treating major depressive disorder (MDD), reemphasizing their importance and aiming to reframe clinical conversation around their role in treatment. The nature of the dysfunction at the root of MDD has been under investigation for decades. Classic antidepressants, like SSRIs (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, such as Prozac) cause an elevation in the levels
6-5-2024

AI camera could help doctors identify serious infections

It might soon be possible to measure a patient’s pulse, breathing, and blood pressure simply by scanning their face. This technology could offer a future tool for quickly assessing the severity of acute infection and other conditions, according to a thesis from the University of Gothenburg. The severity of an infection is assessed on the basis of vital signs, in other words, the main signs of an individual’s physical condition. These vital signs are currently measured using several different instruments. However, a newly developed method
6-5-2024

Oral insulin drops offer relief for diabetes patients

Diabetes rates continue to rise, with 11.7 million Canadians living with diabetes or pre-diabetes. At UBC, scientists have created a pain-free drug delivery method to help people with diabetes manage the disease and maintain their health more easily. Researchers at the Li Lab have developed oral insulin drops that—when placed under the tongue—are quickly and efficiently absorbed by the body, potentially replacing the need for insulin injections. The drops contain a mixture of insulin and a unique cell-penetrating
6-5-2024

Study finds that changes in daily salt intake may explain eczema flares

A high sodium diet may increase the risk of eczema, according to researchers at UC San Francisco (UCSF), who found that eating just one extra gram of sodium per day—the amount in a Big Mac—increases the likelihood of flares by 22%. Eczema, also known as atopic dermatitis, is a chronic disease that causes dry, itchy skin. It’s one of the most common skin conditions, affecting more than 31 million people in the U.S., and one in 10 people will develop it at some point. It has become increasingly common in
6-5-2024

Worried about sending your baby to daycare? Research shows they like being in groups

When parents are starting their babies in daycare, a common concern is whether it is good for little ones to be away from their primary caregivers for long periods of time. But as our recent book Babies in Groups shows, babies as young as six months respond to and enjoy being in groups with other babies. This can reassure parents their child will gain something at daycare they are mostly missing at home: opportunities to enjoy supervised time in small groups of their peers—eating, learning and playing together. Our prehistoric
6-5-2024

Could taking certain drugs reduce risk of ruptured brain aneurysm?

A new study suggests that people who take a few common drugs may have a decreased risk of having a bleeding stroke due to a ruptured brain aneurysm. The study is published in the June 5, 2024, online issue of Neurology. The results do not prove that these drugs reduce the risk of this type of aneurysm; they only show an association. “We urgently need new ways to prevent this type of stroke, which occurs at younger ages and with a higher death rate than other types of stroke,” said
6-5-2024

Early life experiences linked to racial disparities in cognition

Negative early life experiences, such as attending segregated schools, contribute significantly to cognitive decline and cognition disparities between older Black and white Americans, according to a new study led by researchers at the Yale School of Public Health. The study is the first to look at the impact of school segregation upon later life cognition using a large representative sample of the U.S. population, said lead author Xi Chen, associate professor of public health (health policy) at the Yale School of Public Health (YSPH) and
6-5-2024

Why this deadly condition is so hard to diagnose

Sepsis is initially triggered by pathogens entering the bloodstream. Tory MP Craig Mackinlay recently returned to Commons for the first time after suffering from a life-threatening bout of sepsis last year. Since his return to public duties, Mackinlay has spoken candidly about his experience with the near-fatal illness that led to the amputation of his hands and feet. Last September, Mackinlay said he’d begun feeling unwell—but didn’t think anything of his symptoms, especially after testing negative for COVID. But his condition quickly worsened throughout the night. When Mackinlay was finally
6-5-2024

Researchers report encouraging Phase 1 data for glioblastoma treatment

Preliminary clinical data for glioblastoma multiforme patients enrolled in a Phase 1 clinical trial at the University of Alabama at Birmingham demonstrated that 92% of evaluable patients treated with INB-200 exceeded a median progression-free survival of seven months with concomitant temozolomide chemotherapy. The median follow-up was 11.7 months.
6-5-2024

Researchers find a poor quality diet may lead to brain changes associated with depression and anxiety

A first-of-its-kind study into brain chemistry and structure and diet quality of 30 volunteers shows that eating a poor quality diet might lead to brain changes that are associated with depression and anxiety. Brain scans show changes in neurotransmitters and gray matter volume in people who have a poor diet,

• 6-5-2024Team reports on synergistic cytotoxicity of HDAC and PARP inhibitors and decitabine in pancreatic cancer cells
• 6-5-2024Researchers identify universal bitter blocker that could help patients take their life-saving medicines as prescribed
• 6-5-2024Skeletal stem cells in bone development, homeostasis and disease
• 6-5-2024Researcher helps advance ‘Food is Medicine’ concept to reach nutrition security goals
• 6-5-2024Study reveals role of neutrophil lipid transfer in lung cancer transition
• 6-5-2024Researcher discovers that endometriosis tricks the immune system in the same way cancer does
• 6-5-2024Immunotherapy before surgery very successful in treating colorectal cancer, trial finds
• 6-5-2024ROCK2 inhibition facilitates drug delivery in fibrotic pancreatic cancer
• 6-5-2024Study finds higher blood pressure is associated with poorer cognition in adolescence
• 6-5-2024Properly fitting face masks can help block particulate pollution
• 6-5-2024Serine racemase expression in the brain during aging in male and female rats
• 6-5-2024Researchers investigate possible rural-urban divide in HIV risk behaviors
• 6-5-2024Study suggests father’s diet before conception influences children’s health
• 6-5-2024Why new breast cancer guidelines advising against screening women in their 40s are misguided
• 6-5-2024From immunotherapy to mRNA vaccines—the latest science on melanoma treatment explained
• 6-5-2024With all this bird flu around, how safe are eggs, chicken or milk?
• 6-5-2024Children with special health needs are more likely to come from poorer neighborhoods, researchers say
• 6-5-2024Whose health matters? The diversity deficit in clinical trials
• 6-5-2024Neuroimmune interactions may help explain inflammatory pain, lead to better treatments
• 6-5-2024Sierra Leone’s bushmeat markets pose serious health hazards—Researchers offer potential solutions
• 6-5-2024Brain overgrowth dictates autism severity, new research suggests
• 6-5-2024Study shows teens with later sleep schedules are less active, eat more carbohydrates
• 6-5-2024Study reveals that nearly half of foster caregivers have given melatonin to their child
• 6-5-2024Dangerous chemicals found in teeth-whitening kits bought online
• 6-5-2024Mass incarceration may worsen gun violence in Black communities, study finds
• 6-5-2024Study looks at links between cognition, psychopathology, weight in preteens
• 6-5-2024Research indicates lowering FIT positivity thresholds improves sensitivity, specificity comparable to mt-sRNA testing
• 6-5-2024Study suggests that adding common bone loss drugs to azoles can improve efficacy when treating fungal infections
• 6-5-2024Study shows crinecerfont aids patients with congenital adrenal hyperplasia
• 6-5-2024Survey indicates most older adults don’t know about resources that can help them navigate aging and caregiving
• 6-5-2024Study reveals how ‘forever chemicals’ may impact heart health in older women
• 6-5-2024Psychologist discovers goosebumps happen far more often than we think
• 6-5-2024Triple semicircular canal occlusion and endolymphatic sac decompression may alleviate vertigo
• 6-5-2024Recommendations for athletes returning to sports with implantable cardiac defibrillators
• 6-5-2024A malaria drug may combat tick-borne babesiosis
• 6-5-2024New AI technique can identify seizure types, including rare forms of epilepsy
• 6-5-2024Prostate cancer study reveals molecular switch linked to lineage plasticity, therapy resistance
• 6-5-2024Researchers suggest that amyloid contributes to calcific aortic valve disease development
• 6-5-2024Expert shares take on bird flu and general public health risk
• 6-5-2024Study suggests preoperative antibiotic treatment in pediatric elbow fracture surgery is not necessary
• 6-5-2024Retina indicates severity of schizophrenia, scientists discover
• 6-5-2024Major cause of inflammatory bowel disease discovered
• 6-5-2024Researchers discover how networks of neurons in fruit flies transform simple commands into complex behaviors
• 6-5-2024Soft fabric necklace monitors care of preterm, low-birth-weight infants
• 6-5-2024Myelination in the brain may drive opioid addiction, say scientists
• 6-5-2024Researchers find firearm owners have gaps in their knowledge about proper lock installation on firearms
• 6-5-2024Research team finds almost a million potential sources of next-gen antibiotics in the natural world
• 6-5-2024Scientists determine how cooperative proteins help the immune system identify and attack invaders
• 6-5-2024Study finds cannabis use common among patients, with most using it to manage a symptom or health condition
• 6-5-2024Patients with a common heart rhythm disorder are at risk of vascular dementia, study finds
• 6-5-2024Experts alert doctors and the public to the arrival of hard-to-treat fungal skin infections in the US
• 6-5-2024Training cognitive control in children does not change brain or behavior, finds study
• 6-5-2024New survey shows worries loom large over safety net programs and health care affordability in the US
• 6-5-2024Panel rejects psychedelic drug MDMA as a PTSD treatment in possible setback for advocates
• 6-5-2024Phoenix using ice immersion to treat heat stroke victims as Southwest bakes in triple digits
• 6-5-2024Gene therapy trial restores hearing in both ears of children who were born deaf
• 6-5-2024Genetics study points to potential treatments for restless leg syndrome
• 6-5-2024Protein identified to reduce tumor growth
• 6-5-2024New insights on cellular clones and inflammation in bones
• 6-5-2024Dermatologist explains the red birthmark, hemangioma
• 6-5-2024Lung cancer treatment produces progression-free survival results in Phase III trial
• 6-5-2024Teasing apart sex differences in heart disease
• 6-5-2024New drug benefits patients with Sjögren’s disease in phase 2 clinical trial
• 6-5-2024The quest for predictive biomarkers and improved risk stratification
• 6-5-2024Veterans with service dogs found to have fewer PTSD symptoms, higher quality of life
• 6-5-2024How tumor stiffness alters immune cell behavior to escape destruction
• 6-5-2024Leukemia drug passes final trial phase with flying colors
• 6-5-2024Extended PSMA therapy safe and effective for prostate cancer patients, research finds
• 6-5-2024The unintended consequences of price regulation of prescription drugs
• 6-5-2024Team reports on comparative study on dual vs. single cardioversion for atrial fibrillation in obese patients
• 6-5-2024Research reveals ethnic minority heart failure patients at higher risk of death than white patients
• 6-5-2024Researchers advance understanding of mechanism linking hyperuricemia to hypertriglyceridemia
• 6-5-2024Stroke risk increases in individuals with multiple head injuries
• 6-5-2024State of Illinois a leader in legislation on perinatal mental health, study says
• 6-5-2024Researchers reveal secrets of aging beta cells and their ability to secrete insulin
• 6-5-2024Dip your toes into forest bathing—immersing oneself in nature may offer health benefits
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• 6-5-2024Report reveals barriers to providing nutritious food in early-years childcare settings in UK
• 6-5-2024Different outcomes for positive, negative pancreatic cancer patients receiving chemoradiation and systemic therapy
• 6-5-2024A promising vaccine approach to induce longer-lasting protective immunity against COVID-19
• 6-5-2024Injury prediction rule could decrease radiographic imaging exposure in children, study shows
• 6-5-2024Housing associations can be ‘change-makers’ for UK communities, says report
• 6-5-2024Women’s mental agility is better during menstruation, shows study
• 6-5-2024Commonly used alcohol-based mouthwash brand may disrupt the balance of your oral microbiome, scientists say
• 6-5-2024Allergy or infection? Scientists discover what distinguishes these two immune system responses
• 6-5-2024Researchers call for better detection of health conditions for autistic people
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• 6-5-2024Researchers find GLP-1 medications safe to continue before surgery in patients with diabetes and obesity
• 6-5-2024Study finds US drug-related infant deaths more than doubled from 2018 to 2022

I know knitting needle choice is ultimately individualized to personal taste, but I'm curious to hear people's favorite interchangeable needle sets. I was gifted a cheap set a few years ago for Christmas, as I wasn't sure how much I would knit and didn't want to make a larger investment yet. Now, I know that I'm a committed knitter that enjoys the hobby enough to invest in better needles. Mine have cables that aren't very flexible, making any magic loop work a nightmare, some of the needles have had to be glued back into the metal piece that screws into the cables, and some of the needles don't screw in securely, no matter what I do to tighten them, because of poor manufacturing. I've decided to gift myself some new needles for my birthday this year to celebrate finishing my PhD exams.
What I typically use and the types of projects I knit:
I normally use wooden needles and enjoy the feel, but often dislike how dull they are for picking up small stitches, creating nupps, etc. I would be looking for a set that is relatively smooth between the joint of the cable and the needle, as stitches currently get caught at that point on my current needles. I wouldn't be opposed to metal needles, but I am concerned about dropping stitches more often.
I tend to knit shawls and scarves as my primary projects, but I've been branching out to hats, fingerless gloves, and I'm hoping to start knitting socks and easy garments in the next year. Often, I'm using between US sizes 4 and 10.
I've heard great things from videos about ChiaoGoos, even though I know I'd likely buy one set and have to buy some individual needles to supplement my collection, since my most used needles are in between their sets. I also know Lykke is good, and there are plenty of others. I'd just like to hear from the knitting community on what they enjoy. Thanks in advance :)

"Small Mercies" immerses readers in the summer of 1974, amidst a scorching heatwave in Boston. The story centers on Mary Pat Fennessy, a mother living in the Irish American enclave of Southie. This neighborhood is known for its strong adherence to traditions and its resistance to change. Mary Pat has lived in Southie her entire life, grappling with the harsh realities of life in the housing projects. She struggles to stay ahead of bill collectors and maintain a semblance of normalcy for her teenage daughter, Jules. The neighborhood's tight-knit community, however, hides a darker undercurrent of racism and crime. Southie stands defiantly apart from the rest of Boston, maintaining a fierce sense of identity and pride.
https://newbookrecommendation.com/summary-of-small-mercies-by-dennis-lehane-a-detailed-synopsis/

Hi, I'm new to knitting and am wanting to make a jumper for my husband's 40th next year.
He's always wanted a fisherman's rib jumper, but all the knitters in his family refused to make one for him when he was younger as they don't like knitting fisherman's rib. I've seen lots of patterns with crew necks, but he hates crew necks. I've found a pattern in the right style - a high neck with half zip - which is what he likes, but it's not a fisherman's rib one. If I get the pattern, is it possible to make it with a fisherman's rib stitch, or is that way too out there for my very limited knitting ability?
I've only made fingerless gloves and scarves so I haven't done anything remotely close to adapting patterns. On the positive, I've been practising fisherman's rib and I think I have worked that out.
Any help or advice is appreciated, thanks

I've been struggling to find wool sweaters recently. It would be nice to wear something like a wool sweater in the house and not have to turn the heat on in the winter. They could also be good for going out in the winter too, but you would probably want to wear some sort of over shirt or jacket to protect the wool from stains.
Long sleeve cotton shirts, flannels, cotton sweaters or even synthetic cotton blends work well in a certain temperature range but once you reach a certain level of cold they just don't work very well for keeping you warm.
I'm someone that has not had a lot of experience buying clothes for themselves yet because pretty much most of my wardrobe has been covered by clothing that my parents or grandparents wore back in the day and don't use anymore. The two long sleeve cotton shirts I love the most are probably two Benneton shirts from my parents, and I've enjoyed using some cotton German sweaters (they say Baumwolle on the tag. This means Cotton in German) from my grandparents.
I feel like I don't want to risk buying something online and that it would be better to go to an in person store where I know I can use the changing room and find something that fits right before buying. But from what I've seen you don't see wool much in in-person stores anymore or if you do it's gonna be a partial wool and mostly synthetic or cotton blend. Finding great cotton shirts is not too hard these days and in comparison finding Wool seems a lot more complex. Also a side note, most socks seem to be synthetic and cotton blends and it seems hard to find a 100 percent cotton sock.
Online a lot of the wool sweaters are pricy, and some of the pricy ones are synthetic/wool blends if you look in the materials description. If I'm gonna be putting down $70-over $100 for a sweater it better be 100 percent wool
I tried out two Irish wool sweater items recently. One of them was a cardigan on Amazon from West End Knitwear. It has decent quality but unfortunately I got it in a size too small. Another was one of those chunky sweaters with different knitting styles that I got on eBay which still had the tag on it. It's from a brand called "Callan Country Collection". That one is alright if underneath it you wear some sort of shirt that doesn't slightly choke you since the collar can be a bit tight. But I have noticed that while it is a chunky knit that feels substantial, some of the styled and "open" weaving on it has holes that let air through them. If there is a breeze it's gonna let air in. If I get another wool sweater I want something that has a knitting style that doesn't let air in. I guess that this style is meant to be a layering tool and not a sweater you would just wear by itself. Open weave style knitting is probably not a great choice.
An odd set of wool items I have enjoyed wearing have been mathematician Cliff Stoll's wool Klein Bottle Hat and Mobius Scarf. They are a mix of sheep wool and goat mohair. I got these after watching his videos on the Numberphile YouTube channel. He is a pretty interesting guy.
I don't have the tag on them anymore, but I have some Old Navy scarves that feel really nice and I think they might have some wool in them.
Tldr: Where do y'all get wool sweaters that you've enjoyed?
I'd like something that's thick, not to thin. Maybe it's too much to ask for something like that under $100.

Episode 1: None Down, Twenty-One to Go - Part One
The episode began with the show's title card, a circle composed of various European flags on a blue background; the words 'TOTAL DRAMA' on the top row, 'PRESENTS:' under that, 'THE' on the next row, 'RIDONCULOUS' on a black bar in the middle of the circle, and 'RACE' underneath the bar.
The scene then cuts to a shot of Toronto. "This is Toronto. The capital of North America. Birthplace of funk, where the albino panther roams free," a middle aged man narrated before a panther standing on a moving yacht roared.
The man makes himself present on-screen. He had brown hair and was wearing a gray suit. "Beneath my manly size 13 brogues, twenty-one teams are arriving at this historic train station ready to embark on a race around the world," the man said as a shot of the Earth was depicted with a beam of light going around it.
The scene cuts back to the host. "I'm your host, Don, and this is, the Ridonculous Race!" Don announced before he flashed his teeth at the camera.
(Theme Song)
Don was walking down the streets of Toronto. "Welcome to the Ridonculous Race. Right now, twenty-one teams from across the country are readying themselves to embark on a race to the death."
He then winced thanks to his earpiece, and he listened to what it had to say. "Not to the death? Okay." He focused on the camera. "Let's meet the teams that aren't racing to the death."
The scene flashed to two people in their late teens. Devin, the boy on the left, was of Asian descent, his jet black hair in a spiky updo, and he wore a light green shirt with light blue trimmings and a picture of a standard power button over a long sleeve cream shirt. As he was reading a book, he didn't notice Carrie, the girl on the right, gazing at him with a blush on her cheeks. She was a white girl with wavy blonde hair and wearing a blue-ish green sweater and blue jeans.
"Carrie and Devin," Don introduced. "Best Friends."
World Interview: Best Friends
"I met Devin in the sandbox and we haven't spent a day apart since," Carrie explained as the shot cut to this show's confessional, the team sitting together in front of a map of the world.
"If anyone can win this race," Carrie continued, "it's us!"
"Yeah," Devin chimed in with a smile. "I know Carrie so well," he chuckled and she leaned over to gaze at him again. "It's like we're..." he noticed her gazing again and trailed off. "Wh-wha-what-what're you doing?" he asked.
Her eyes widened in fear. "Oh, uh, lint check!" she said suddenly, ripping off a piece of lint from his shirt. "For the camera," she laughed awkwardly.
Interview Ends
The next team was shown. The person on the left was a middle aged blonde woman wearing a white tracksuit and the one on the right being another girl in her late teens, with light brown hair and wearing a cream dress and black knee-high boots.
"Kelly and Taylor," Don introduced as the older woman applied lipstick and the younger one filed her nails. "Mother & Daughter."
World Interview: Mother & Daughter
"So 'A'," Taylor said, waving her nail file around while her mother continued to apply lipstick, "I'm really hot. Obviously. And 'B', I'm pretty much the best at everything I do. So unless my mom messes things up, we're totally gonna win this race," she said while going back to filing.
"Taylor and her friends love when I hang with them," Kelly said after putting away her cosmetics. "I'm known as the 'cool mom'," she laughed. "We're so tight, people always mistake us for sisters!"
Taylor was startled out of her nail filing. "Wait? What?"
Interview Ends
"Kitty and Emma," Don introduced over a shot of an Asian Girl in her late teens posing for her cellphone camera. She wore a red sweater over a white long-sleeve button-up and a knee-length black skirt. Her hair was done in twin ponytails each held up by red bows.
"Actual sisters," the host continued as the camera panned up to show an Asian woman in her early twenties with straight hair that falls to her waist and wearing a red jacket over a pink short sleeve shirt and grey capri pants. She scowled at her sister as she put up their things in their train compartment's overhead bin, then took her phone.
World Interview: Sisters
"I'm studying International Law," Emma said, "so that's gonna give us a real edge. Which is good, because we're here to win."
"And to see the world," Kitty said. "Meet hot guys, and have some fun."
"If there's time for that," Emma chimed in, "which there won't be. So let's focus on winning, okay?"
"Okay," Kitty sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Good," Emma smiled.
Interview Ends
"Crimson and Ennui," Don said as the camera panned up from the heavy boots of the next team, to the blood red pants of the boy on the left and blood red skirt of the girl on the right, to the blood red and black shirt with a logo of a crying circle of the boy and the blood red blouse and fishnet gloves of the girl, to their pale skin and his gold eyes and her red eyes, to the black and red hair of the boy and white and black hair of the girl.
"Two exceptionally pale teens," Don finished as lightning flashed behind them.
World Interview: Goths
The flash of lightning took the scene to the Goths both staring at the camera and not saying a word.
"Okay, that's just unnerving," Don commented.
Interview Ends
The next team featured two girls in their early twenties. The one on the right was a Latina girl with her blue hair tied into a ponytail and a bandage on her left cheek. The one on the left was a Brazilian girl with her green hair in pigtails. They both wore jumpsuits and helmets, the difference being that the Brazilian girl's jumpsuit was colored green with a green stripe on her helmet, and the Latina girl's jumpsuit was colored blue with a blue stripe on her helmet.
"France and Paris," Don introduced as the girls were writing in their notebooks. "Extreme Girls."
World Interview: Extreme Girls
"You may know us from our streaming channel called "Extreme Girls!"," Paris, the Latina girl, said.
"We're a daredevil duo. We do wicked stunts like roller skating on ice rinks, biking down steep hills, and doing parkour just so we can get to our favorite burger place," France, the Brazilian girl, explained and showed off her gap-toothed smile.
"Some of our antics do get us injured or put into hospitals," Paris added seriously, "but we manage to recover in a few days or so."
"And plus, we post our own wipeouts online just to show our fans that we're not perfect," France smiled. "And to get some extra cash."
Interview Ends
The sixth team was a team of identical white boys with curly brown hair. The one on the left wore a light blue hoodie and a helmet. The one on the right was without a helmet and wore a blue hoodie.
"Mickey and Jay," Don introduced. "Identical twins who are used to overcoming adversity."
The boy on the left adjusted his helmet and the one on the right took a puff of an asthma inhaler, and both were crushed when their overhead bin dumped its contents on them.
World Interview: Adversity Twins
"We've both been through a lot," Mickey said, "but we're not cursed. Whatever's right before cursed. That's us."
"Like when I was six, I fell into a burrowing owl's nest and one of the baby owls flew into my ear," Jay explained, pointing to his left ear for emphasis. "To this day, everything on this side sounds like…" He made owl sounds.
"We're constantly fighting adversity," Mickey said confidently. "And overcoming it."
"Sorry," Jay said. "We gotta switch sides. You're just…" The owl noises returned.
Interview Ends
The scene cut to the next team; another pair of people in their late teens. The one on the left was an Irish Canadian woman with short red hair wearing a black tank top with a white shirt underneath and brown pants with rips on it. The one on the right was a British Canadian man with gray spiky hair wearing a purple button-up shirt and blue ripped jeans.
"Bite and Bark," Don introduced as the girl punched the overhead bin and a bag of chips fell into her hand. "The dubly named tough bulldogs."
World Interview: Bulldogs
"'Ello there, mates," Bark, the male partner, started. "We're the Bulldogs, and we do not play nice. We play dirty!"
"We're both rough housers, and these wee babies we're up against have no chance against us," Bite, the female partner, chuckled.
"I've got the mouth to mock people and she's got the muscle to beat them up, hence our names, Bite and Bark," Bark grinned.
"Mind you, those aren't our real names, but it's not like we'd waste time telling you guys," Bite told the viewers.
"Yeah! Time wasting is for losers," Bark huffed.
Interview Ends
"The totally in love Daters," Don explained as the scene cut to the next team staring out the train window. The one on the left was a large and muscular college-aged man in a pink short-sleeve shirt featuring the logo of a man deadlifting a weight over his head and the much shorter girl on the left who'd shaved one side of her head and wore a fuchsia T-shirt and purple workout shorts.
"Stephanie and Ryan," Don introduced.
World Interview: Daters
"Stephanie and I met at the gym a year and a half ago," Ryan told the confessional, "and we've been going steady ever since!"
"We're so excited!" Stephanie said. "Neither of us has ever traveled before. There's so much to discover. Like, 'What do chocolate protein bars taste like in China'?"
"I was just wondering that!" Ryan said in awe.
"No. Way." Stephanie said in awe herself before they promptly began to make out.
Interview Ends
The footage skipped ahead to the train arriving at the station's fourth platform, where the next team stepped off. Or rather, they leapt off the train. A blonde Quebec man and a black haired woman, both appearing to be in their mid thirties. He wore a purple insulated jumpsuit and she wore a short dress in identical colors.
"Josee and Jacques," Don introduced as they smiled and waved for the camera. "Ice Dancers."
World Interview: Ice Dancers
"We know how to win!" Jacques said confidently. "We've won gold everywhere!"
"Except," Josee said, "the Olympics. He dropped me so we only got silver," she explained.
Jacques cried, standing up and covering his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it!" He ran out of the room.
"Jacques!" Josee cried out after him, then looked at the camera and smiled. "Silver is his least favorite color."
Interview Ends
The tenth team to step off were a pair of females, a Hispanic girl in her early teens and a white girl in her late teens. The younger girl has brown hair that was tied back into a short braided ponytail. She wore a yellow jacket with a picture of two black stars in the chest area and blue pants. The older girl has long blonde hair, a red long-sleeved shirt with a drawing of a blueberry pie in the front, and red pants.
"Windsor and Val," Don introduced as the girls high-fived, and since the young girl had a joy buzzer on her hand, she electrocuted her partner for a bit, much to her own amusement and the annoyance of the white girl. "Pranksters."
World Interview: Pranksters
"We're the ultimate pranksters," the younger girl, Windsor, said. "Me for my middle school and Val for her high school."
"Life can be boring sometimes, so why not spice things up with a thumbtack on a chair or a pie to the face just for laughs?" Val said.
"When I heard about this race, I wanted to join, but I had to be with someone eligible to be my guardian since I'm thirteen," Windsor explained.
"Being Windsor's next door neighbor and sharing her taste of comedy, that's where sixteen-year-old me comes in," Val gloated smugly.
Windsor rolled her eyes. "You don't have to lord your age over me every chance you get."
Interview Ends
The scene cut to the next team, only one of which was familiar. It was a thin and somewhat muscular white boy with blonde hair and a cowboy hat, wearing an unbuttoned pink shirt and blue jean shorts. To his right; a Hispanic teen about the same age with short brown hair and a tattoo around his arm. He wore a pink tank top and purple jean shorts.
"Geoff and Brody," Don introduced. "Life long friends and Party Dudes."
Interview: Party Dudes
"I met some awesome people on Total Drama," Geoff explained. "But they're too busy to compete this time. So boom! Entrez, my bud Brody."
Brody chuckled. "Yeah guy," the two bumped fists. "Bros forever! GnB for the W I N!" They bumped their other fists.
Interview Ends
The scene moved to the front door of the train station opening to show the eleven previously introduced teams in the doorway.
"Right this way, teams!" Don called out to them, the camera panning to the right to show him standing behind a chalk line. "Over here!"
A quick pan to the left showed the next team walking over to the host. A dirty blonde middle aged white man in a plain yellow shirt and blue slacks, and a blonde preteen white boy wearing a red backwards baseball cap, black hoodie, and gray jeans.
"Also competing, Dwayne and Dwayne Jr," Don introduced. "Father & Son."
World Interview: Father & Son
"Oh, I spend a lot of time in the old office there," Dwayne said, "so this race is a, uh, perfect chance for Junior and I," he pinched his son's cheek, "to squeeze in a little father son bonding time." He chuckled. "Right, buddo?"
"Uh, yeah, sure dad," Junior said uncertainly. "Hey, um, are there any other kids my age in this thing?" he asked while darting his eyes around.
"Oh!" Dwayne said suddenly. "Uh..."
Interview Ends
The next team was shown, a black woman with short brown hair, rappelling down a brick building with a rope and a larger white woman with brown hair in a ponytail bursting out of a nearby window. Both were wearing the dark blue uniforms of law enforcement academy students, with the white woman wearing a cap.
"Sanders and MacArthur," Don introduced as the two women ran off to the right. "Ambitious Police Cadets."
World Interview: Police Cadets
"We're tough as nails," MacArthur said, "and we'll go to the extreme to win this thing."
"Definitely," Sanders said with a confident grin. "As long as we don't break any international laws."
"I'm okay with breaking a few," MacArthur said, much to her partner's shock.
Interview Ends
The fourteenth team had arrived. Two boys, both sixteen years old, marched on screen while scowling at each other. The one on the left was a large white boy with brown hair and the barest hints of a goatee, wearing a purple shirt with the logo of a skull bat and dark purple cargo shorts. The one on the right was a skinny Italian boy with black hair and a small patch of facial hair, wearing a purple shirt with a game controller logo on it and blue jeans.
"Chet and Lorenzo," Don introduced. "New stepbrothers."
World Interview: Stepbrothers
"My dad married his mom last year," Lorenzo explained, "but we always hated each other before that."
"He hates gymnastics, and I don't like his karate," Chet huffed.
"So they're making us do this. Jerks," Lorenzo stared hatefully at the camera.
"Don't call my mom a jerk!" Chet yelled at him. "Jerk!" He shoved Lorenzo out of frame.
"Shut your wordhole!" Lorenzo got up and yelled back. "Jerk!" He shoved Chet out of frame.
Chet got up and tackled Lorenzo.
Interview Ends
"Also racing," Don said as the next team strutted on screen. A tall and skinny white man with stylish light brown hair wearing a long sleeve light blue shirt, a team of glasses, and skinny jeans and a shorter tanned young woman with black hair tied into a ponytail and wearing a light blue blouse and short dark blue skirt with a team of sunglasses on her head.
"Tom and Jen," Don introduced as the two shared a confident glance. "Highly attractive fashion bloggers with impeccable taste."
Don added in annoyance "I told you not to let the teams write their own cards."
World Interview: Fashion Bloggers
"Hey hey to all our blog followers out there!" Jen greeted. "Wish us luck!"
"I bet Jen we could win the race," Tom said with a smile, "but I didn't think she'd actually take me up on it."
"I put my mind to something and it happens," Jen explained confidently with a snap of her fingers.
Interview Ends
The next team arrived. The one on the right was taller and thinner, with long blonde hair. He wore a purple short sleeve shirt with the logo of a frog's head with horns over a long sleeve pale blue undershirt with green jeans, a team of large brown cowboy boots, and an orange bandana tied around his head. The one on the left was shorter and larger, with long curly brown hair wearing a pale blue jean vest over a similar purple shirt to his partner and blue jeans.
"Rock and Spud," Don introduced as the blonde one played an air guitar and the other one banged his head and made devil horns. "The Rockers."
World Interview: Rockers
"Spud wasn't sure about doing this," Rock explained, "'cause he's not super fit or good at much of anything," Spud nodded in agreement, "except rocking out!"
He played a brief mouth and air guitar. "So I said, 'You just rock bud. I'll carry you!'"
Spud banged his head and made devil horns as Rock continued his air and mouth guitar playing.
Interview Ends
"Laurie and Miles," Don introduced over a shot of a Monarch butterfly landing on a white hand. "Granola loving hippie dippie friends," Don finished as the camera pulled out to show two young women standing in the middle of the road.
The one on the left was white with freckles and waist length brown hair wearing a long sleeve pale yellow shirt that was a tad bit too big for her, a brown fringe jacket, pale blue bell bottom jeans, glasses, peace sign earrings, and a red bandanna tied around her head. The one on the right was biracial with freckles and brown dreadlocks. She wore a pale yellow crop top with a brown fringe jacket, a knit cap, and high waist blue jeans. The biracial girl held her arm out to stop traffic as the white girl gently let the butterfly free.
World Interview: Vegans
"We want to win so we can donate to our favorite charities," Laurie explained. "Save the Hunchback Walrus," Laurie continued as Miles nodded eagerly, "Goatmilk Eco Warriors, People for the Ethical Treatment of Ants. So many great causes!"
Interview Ends
The next team was shown walking. They were both late teens. The one on the left was a familiar face. He was a muscular African Canadian boy with brown hair, a necklace with a lightning bolt attached, and pierced ears. He was wearing a blue jersey with the number '1' on the front and gray shorts. The one on the right was another African Canadian boy with black hair. He wore a gray t-shirt with black vertical stripes on it and black shorts.
"Lightning and Usain," Don introduced. "All-around jocks."
World Interview: Jocks
"Lightning's been on Pahkitew Island," Lightning said. "However, not only did he not win the money, but he got eliminated first! That’s just sha-lame!"
"But now that he's got Usain, that's me, his best friend, with him, we're gonna be unbeatable and unstoppable!" Usain boasted.
"Those teams are gonna get struck by lightning!” Lightning grinned.
Interview Ends
The scene cut to a bus speeding away and revealing the next team. The one on the left was a young Indian woman with wavy brown hair, shorter than her partner and dressed smartly in a brown sweater over a white button-up and knee-length skirt and glasses. Her partner was a white woman with a very pronounced nose, slightly unkempt light brown hair, and wearing a pair of glasses, a gradient sweater that started off as brown at the top and ended as white on the bottom and gray stretch pants.
"Ellody and Mary," Don introduced. "Scientific geniuses who say they will use their winnings to support the scientific community."
World Interview: Geniuses
"Astrophysics has been shown to be underfunded," Ellody informed. "After doing some research, we found that reality shows offer monetary prizes. Conundrum solved."
Interview Ends
A taxi brought the penultimate team to the starting line. The first one to get out of the car was a familiar face. He was a pale boy in his late teens and had a rather big head with multiple chins and purple hair. He wore a gray jumpsuit. His partner got out shortly after. A normal skinned girl in her late teens with white pigtailed hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore an identical outfit to the boy.
"Max and Tammy," Don introduced as they drank a bottle of soda. "Dedicated villains. Whatever that is."
World Interview: Villains
"I did not fare well in Pahkitew Island, and my gadgets I made that season have been confiscated by my parents so that I would not cheat," Max began. "But with my sidekick, Tammy, by my side, I can redeem myself!"
Tammy took out her ocarina and played a villainous tune.
Interview Ends
The final team was shown. Both were men in their sixties. The one on the left had graying hair. He wore a yellow and orange trimmed polo shirt and white tennis shorts. His partner's hair was a much lighter shade of gray, and he wore a blue striped polo shirt with blue tennis shorts.
"And Gerry and Pete," Don introduced. "Retired pro tennis players and friendly rivals."
World Interview: Tennis Rivals
"We're both very competitive," Gerry said, "but for half a mil each? Game on!" They chuckled.
"Maybe we'll get some new sponsorships," Pete said. "Anyone need a pitch man for seniors' laxatives-"
"Call his agent," they both said before chuckling some more.
Interview Ends
The twenty-one teams were all gathered around Don at the finish line. On the left; the Rockers, Stepbrothers, Police Cadets, Fashion Bloggers, Pranksters, Adversity Twins, Daters, Jocks, Best Friends, Mother & Daughter, and Goths. On the right; the Sisters, Tennis Rivals, Ice Dancers, Vegans, Party Dudes, Geniuses, Bulldogs, Father & Son, Extreme Girls, and Villains with Don in between both groups.
"Welcome contestants!" Don greeted. "This is the starting line for your twenty-six part race around the world. Each part ends at a chill zone." The scene cut to a desert and focused on its chill zone. "Get there fast, because the last team to stand on the carpet of completion may be cut from the competition."
The teams all got worried by this news.
"But the first team to reach our last chill zone will win one. Million. Dollars," Don said over a shot of cash being presented inside the planet in space after it got opened.
The teams proceeded to cheer about the prize until they got cut off with "Look over here!" from Don, causing them to see Don next to a box that looked like him.
"This is our Ridonculous Tip Box, also known as the Don Box," Don described the box. "Press this button to get the travel tips that will lead you through the Ridonculous Race," he said as the scene cut to several dots being placed in multiple countries.
"Ready teams?" the host asked, and the teams began to get into running positions. "On your marks! Get set!"
The Police Cadets were shown waiting for the signal in the top left quarter of the screen, then the Ice Dancers in the top right, the Stepbrothers in the bottom left, and the Goths in the bottom right.
"Race!" Don announced. "Watch the face!" he cried as he was engulfed by the swarm of teams. "Not the hair!" he cried again as he was knocked down.
The Party Dudes, Father & Son, and Stepbrothers reached the first Don Box and pressed the button, a tip coming out from the mouth of the Don Box.
"Race on foot to the CN Tower!" Chet read before he, Lorenzo, and the Party Dudes left.
"And find the Don Box to find your next tip!" Dwayne finished and he and Junior ran off as the Fashion Bloggers and Ice Dancers arrived on the scene, Tom pressing the button for a tip.
The Party Dudes were in the lead, until Father & Son lapped them. "There's the tower!" Junior pointed towards it.
"And here comes the competition!" Jacques followed up after running past the Party Dudes.
Dwayne turns around. "Huh, where?" he wondered until he hit a garbage can and fumbled over it. The trash can then covers the Ice Dancers, stopping them from running. "Oh, my bad!"
"Whoa! Nasty! Are you guys okay?" Geoff asked the Ice Dancers after he and Brody stopped. The Ice Dancers lift the trash can off of them and keep on running. The trash can lands on the Party Dudes, but with Geoff yelling "Go!”, they ran forward, the Police Cadets, Bulldogs, Stepbrothers, Pranksters, and Fashion Bloggers following suit.
Father & Son reached the CN Tower where the Don Box is located outside the tower.
"There's the Don Box!" Dwayne spotted and pressed the button.
Junior reads the tip. "It's an "either or"," he said as the Ice Dancers leapt on the opposite side and pressed the button. "What's an "either or"?"
The two teams were interrupted by Geoff and Brody crashing into a rail and falling down.
"An "either or" gives teams the choice of two challenges," Don said as the shot cut to a staircase. "They either climb one hundred and forty-four flights of stairs to reach the world's tallest observation deck. That's just under a billion stairs."
The scene flashed to Don next to the elevator. "Or scares. Take the elevator, then get the scare of a lifetime by doing a sky walk all the way around the outside of the tower." He was now standing outside, and it was really windy. "Not to worry though. They'll be wearing helmets. And as an extra precaution, we had a safety rail installed." The rail falls halfway.
Don was now back inside. "teams must finish either task and find this local guide to receive their next tip," he gestured at the pale skinny white teen currently relaxing.
A couple of the teams have reached the Don Box and are all currently reading the tip.
"A hundred and forty-four flights of stairs?" Sanders asked as she and MacArthur glanced at their tip. Chet and Lorenzo were too busy fighting each other to read theirs, and Bark, Tom, and Windsor were looking at theirs and paying attention. The Police Cadets ran off, and the Adversity Twins were the next to arrive. "Yeah, we'll do Scares."
"Scares," Tom said.
"We're going with Scares," Windsor told her partner.
"Definitely not stairs," Bark concluded.
"Scares!" Chet announced, letting go of the tip and letting Lorenzo fall to the ground. "Called it!"
"Stairs," Mickey said weakly.
World Interview: Adversity Twins
Both twins were holding the papercut. "Mickey gets nosebleeds when he goes up too high too fast. Makes it pretty hard to take flights or, you know, go up really tall towers," Jay explained and took the tip away.
Mickey yelped in pain. "Paper cut!"
Interview Ends
Father & Son arrived at the elevator first.
"First in! Alright! Way to go, Junior! Give me a high five!" Dwayne went to slap five, but Junior ducked, leaving Dwayne to slam against the elevator buttons. This caused every button floor to be mashed.
"Whoops," Dwayne chuckled sheepishly as his son glared at him.
World Interview: Father & Son
"For a skinny tower, there sure are a lot of floors," Dwayne commented.
Interview Ends
Dwayne whistled as he and his son exited the elevator, and the camera cut to show the Fashion Bloggers, Bulldogs, Police Cadets, Party Dudes, Stepbrothers, Ice Dancers, and Pranksters running inside before it closed.
"Hey!" Chet said after seeing the problem. "Who pushed all of the buttons?"
"Guess we have to take the stairs," Bite declared, and everyone but the Pranksters and Fashion Bloggers ran out.
"I would rather just wait," Val shrugged.
"We are not taking the easy way out," Windsor grabbed her partner's arm and left the elevator.
"Meh," Tom shrugged as Jen looked at him. "This'll probably still be faster."
"Anyone asks, we chose stairs. Always stairs," Dwayne told Junior as they ran up the stairwell, the Adversity Twins following behind them.
"While Father and Son and the Adversity Twins commit to climbing the unconscionable number of stairs, more teams choose scares," Don narrated as the scene cut to the twelve other teams standing outside the elevator. "But they're in for a long wait."
Outside Interview: Fashion Bloggers
The camera cut to the Fashion Bloggers inside the elevator.
"Hey hey, fashion blog followers!" Jen greeted. "We would like to talk about today's fashion faux-pas, which is..."
The doors behind them opened to show an elderly man in overalls mopping the floor.
"Overalls," Tom said in a disgusted tone. "Ugh. Nasty." The man raised an offended eyebrow.
"I know, right," Jen said, both unaware of their surroundings. "Like, get with today."
Interview Ends
The elevator reaches the observation deck, Tom and Jen exiting with a mop and bucket on their heads. They removed them and looked around in confusion.
"I don't see any other teams," Jen said before realizing. "We're in first place!" she squealed, annoying the guide.
"Let's hit the skywalk and strut all the way to the winner's circle," Tom suggested, strutting to the skywalk with a grin.
"We are so the team to beat," Jen bragged.
They soon stared out at the skywalk. "We have to walk out here?!" Jen asked in panic.
"Oh yes you do," Don voiced over. "The Ridonculous Race will return."
(Commercial Break)

Thought I would give my two cents on the recent season ticket price hikes to those that care. And I must caveat all this by saying that I'm an overseas (Irish) fan who's on the waiting list, but never been fortunate enough to have a season ticket. So you can argue that it doesn't even affect me.
But spiritually, it does. The reason I took this club to my heart is its tight-knit, community feel, its valiant underdog status, the nod to heritage and tradition. Wolverhampton is an embattled people and city that find strength in its struggles; out of darkness cometh light. While I am enormously appreciative to Fosun, who have unquestionably given me my most enjoyable years as a Wolves fan, this feels like the moment our club's hierarchy crossed the Rubicon. This is an abandonment of 'legacy' fans, of long-term supporters that have already sacrificed so much to feed their passion, the exploitation of local fans to whom the club means everything. I've spoken to countless people from Wolverhampton. They wear their support as a badge of honour. The football club is as intrinsic to who they are as the city itself. When you step out of the train station, the first sight one is greeted with is a hand-painted mural of Molineux and a player in Old Gold. The club is not autonomous of the city and its people, nor should it be.
I can accept an increase in prices. My own cold, callous, finance background implores I acknowledge that the club is a business, a private company.Given the club's relative onfield stagnation, and considering the ongoing cost of living crisis, a price freeze would have been a surprising but very welcomed gambit. But what's happened is a kick in the teeth. More than doubling the price of children's tickets, as well as those for disabled supporters. Pickpocketing the most vulnerable in our society, mere days after the club posted its heartwarming awareness video of mental health. Have they no shame. Has the hierarchy seriously misread the situation so egregiously? Child poverty rate in the city is >40%. Football provides an essential public service, a societal outlet for thousands of local kids. It also keeps kids out of trouble, and offers them social, health and emotional benefits. This move will unequivocally price many of them out.
Jeff Shi spoke about the disillusionment of fans attending games courtesy of VAR, and he is correct. It is an enormous factor. But pricing out stalwarts, those that bleed Old Gold, that too creates the indifferent languid atmosphere we've witnessed too many times. I could accept all this if the product provided was of a supreme standard; premium rates for a premium good. But it just frankly isn't.
This polarising move should raise roughly £3m for the club. Pittance for a conglomerate worth $26bn. And those funds will be raised. Because any newly-vacated seats will be occupied. And those new arrivals will likely be too elated at their new opportunity to properly vocalise their disgust toward Fosun. Never forget; the board of directors are the custodians of this football club, but the supporters are the owners. This dynamic needs to be made explicitly clear by whatever means necessary. I love this club. I will continue to love this club. There is precious little that can change that. But I am rapidly losing confidence in this ownership, despite how supportive I've been of them in the past. This feels like a seminal moment. The well of goodwill from the exuberant early days has totally run dry, even for fans as Panglossian as myself. It will take far more than a proof-read newspaper article to replenish it. Revising the odious price hikes for children and disabled fans would be a pleasant first step on the ownership's voyage on the road to Canossa, and would serve as timely reminder that they haven't completely forgotten what it means to represent this fine club and city.
Would love to know how others feel, and for any season ticket holders on here, do you intend to renew? Can you afford to renew? And how many years have you been going to games?

This keeps popping up and it intrigues me because I only take ashwaganda and a one a day multivitamin but I wasn’t sure if this was legit and or safe for consumption

Man, the way the dynamic of this community clicks for me while listening to the civilian testimonies: John’s friends, basketball parents, Chris Albert, the bartender.
I grew up in an extremely tight-knit community on the Southside of Chicago. Much like in Canton, pretty much everyone you know is white Irish Catholic. Most parents are some type of city worker. Teachers, laborers in the trades, firefighters, paramedics or cops. They pulled strings to send you to small parochial schools until 12th grade. If you live and die there like most residents, then you know quite literally everyone’s name, their parish, and who they’re related to.
If you’re not cracking a Miller Light in someone’s garage on the weekends, you’re in a hoodie drinking at a dive bar. That dive bar has some sort of Blue Lives Matter signage: a marquee, a flag, you name it. You can’t drive a mile without seeing that flag in front of someone’s house or on someone’s bumper. You grow up knowing a minimum of like two cops in your family or close circle. For me? My next door neighbor, two of my uncles, my volleyball coach, etc. I don’t know if Canton is like this but in my childhood community’s eyes, cops are like rockstars. I’ve seen wasted, aggressive, off-duty cops run their mouths or throw first punches to instigate fights at bars/house parties.
I don’t believe there is a huge, elaborate coverup. However, I can absolutely envision how people, including investigators, in a place like this would turn a blind eye to what potentially happened in a well-known cop’s home.

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it?The soft scratching of my pencil sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh Jesus, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Sammy, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!

Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand and a nasty scar just under my eye. So, it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living off scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening while out with my friend, Graham, he mentioned something about some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.

Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up I couldn’t find any information at all. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand wasn’t good with delicate tasks so when I dialed the number I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced woman who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. Her voice was soothing, “Your credentials are excellent. If you like I can fax some forms and a draft contract over, and we can pay for you to fly on up to see us in person. I’m certain you’ll get offered the job.”

She was right. One flight and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully omitted. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rockin’ the boat,” my new boss, Sammy, said to me curtly. I’ve not discussed it since.

The part of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert. It comprised many green corridors peppered with tall wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Of course, whether or not we wanted to know the nature of the research, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists. Or maybe paleontologists. I often found different objects lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths or even fossilized remains. Others were less identifiable: a melted lump of some glimmering metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.

As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we played cards and drank Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the researchers. Most of them were mean and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies liked was a scrawny guy named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.

It was earlier, at 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited, their lab coats flapping and flowing as they made for the stairs. Soon after this, the large red landline phone near my desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Sammy’s voice was uncharacteristically anxious, “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up. They want to bring it to B.15 so I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” she grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I’ll get some of the boys from B.10 and B.14 to help you out.” I nodded, “Thanks, see you soon”

Donald, Jonesy, some interns and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we met the guards from B.10. and B.14, together we climbed the many stairs to the hangar and waited for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.09 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity, waiting in the shade of the doorway as the relentless sun beat down outside. I squinted. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter with an enormous rectangular shaped mass dangling below it.

Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto a wide wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about. The air was blaring with the sound of helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down. My colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Sammy emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. Her hair was in its characteristic librarian-bun but her eyes were glassy. Had she been drinking? We quickly reviewed the paper work she gave me and then she made her way back downstairs to her office in section B.1. She was keen to get away for some reason.

As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto a wooden scaffold fitted with wheels and had been pushed slowly into the center of the hangar. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs, leaving plenty of space for the object.

The object was a wall. It was rectangular and about twenty-five feet long, ten feet thick and twelve feet high. The wall first appeared made from boring grey stone. I even remember thinking, “It’s not even that big”. However, when I looked closer it was, alive. I barely noticed the helicopter take off and leave as I saw the wall’s surface bubble. The hangar doors began to close as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name. I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought dug into my mind: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotten clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall, “Honestly, we have no idea”.

I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled, “Guh, this thing smells like something my dog puked up”. Meanwhile Jonesy stared with eyes as large as saucers, “It looks so cool!” Once downstairs, I told Donald and Jonesy to take some forms to the admin department and I returned alone to my office to get some more coffee and file away the rest of the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the force fusing my eyelids together.

I’ve been hungover a lot, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularlyawful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses. My forehead throbbed and I was bruised. I also felt a weird pressure squeezing my head from all sides. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.

Then I froze.

A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table at the center of the room. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying there, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of dark scarlet stained his blue uniform. His eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I ran to my landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.

The line was dead.

I was so confused. We had lots of fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. I rushed back to the monitors. The cameras were all operating normally. I started to breathe heavily. I couldn’t see anyone. The corridors were green and bare. I looked at the clock. It was 1817h. I had slept for about two hours. But where was everyone? Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and my head was throbbing. My eyes narrowed with a sudden thought. Where was that wall?

I searched for the wall and found it was back in the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was absolutely enormous! Just over two times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. The hangar floor was covered in blood. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?

I spun my head to look at the security panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already racing, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized Donald must have activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did I really sleep through all this? Where was Jonesy? I looked back at Donald, my heart still racing from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.

Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that displayed the footage of room 278B and the surrounding corridors. The screens were black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I have to know. I hit play.

The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything was normal. It was 1623h when they were unstrapping the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the flesh of the wall. It wrapped around Benny and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced.

Without realizing it I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew a few inches higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched into a permanent scream. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridors outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the thralls. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray research intern to her feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.

I could still hear the pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew. More ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it reached everyone in the Facility. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison, with vacant expressions, they moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Sammy and Jonesy, and so many others I knew. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.

A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the intern he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.

As soon as Donald got close to 278B a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into his chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall to the ground. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took this opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and, still fumbling with his keys, attempted to open the ammunitions cupboard. Before he could find the right key, he cursed and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!

My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved. Why not Donald? And me? My eyebrows shot up into my receding hairline with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” And Donald had a steel plate in his skull too because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it meant the thing possesses sentience.

While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person even noticed. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.

It was 1735h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t appear to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity found only in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they did not yield. After just over half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already? I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.

Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. My eyes grew even wider and I grabbed at my hair, “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new clarity to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were sunken and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier?”, I gasped with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”

I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the twenty pounds of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”

Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves burned with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were the longest I’d ever experienced. Eventually dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.

BANG!

The door shook and bent slightly.

BANG!

Silence.

BANG!

My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. I turned to look at the screens. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as they flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thingwas in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”

I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a sawed-off shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs. I walked up the stairs carefully. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. After many minutes, I was near the hangar. Then I heard the soft sound of crying.

Someone was crying. No. Many people were crying.

I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. Once my head peeked over the top of the landing, I froze. The wall loomed gigantic before me. Its edges were now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony; tortured souls bound together. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But you will” came the sound of hundreds of twisted voices fused into one. “We are them. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.”
A deafening blast came from the wall and slithering, tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitched roar that was pure torment, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I slammed into the floor a few feet away. As I hit the ground I yelled in pain and heard something metallic smash. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. I noticed immediately that the remote detonator had been smashed beyond repair. With the creature momentarily out of sight, I kneeled and took off my backpack as fast as I could. “Only one way then”, I said quietly as I pulled out the bomb and started the timer manually. I also got the shotgun out. I needed to do this now or never.
As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was way too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into one of the creature’s mouths and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of grey chunks. These rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircrafts. The blast knocked me off my feet.
When I awoke I could see early morning light through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I coughed and lifted my head to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my mouth opened. They were melting. I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2. It was rebuilding itself.
As I stood to run I heard a groan. My blood became ice.

I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I’d shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had six legs which came out of its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my feet were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor’s closet I found and locked the door. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.

Now I lie in wait. What is that thing? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further.

So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside!

Shit! Shit! I hear keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?

Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

Any recommendations for yarn stores in Dublin? I see a lot of places that sell beautiful wool sweaters, etc but so far only found one yarn store on the map (This Is Knit).
Update: I found The Donegal Shop and The Sweater Shop both sell Donegal yarns. Limited amount but Irish :-)

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it?The soft scratching of my pencil sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh Jesus, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Sammy, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!

Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand and a nasty scar just under my eye. So, it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living off scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening while out with my friend, Graham, he mentioned something about some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.

Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up I couldn’t find any information at all. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand wasn’t good with delicate tasks so when I dialed the number I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced woman who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. Her voice was soothing, “Your credentials are excellent. If you like I can fax some forms and a draft contract over, and we can pay for you to fly on up to see us in person. I’m certain you’ll get offered the job.”

She was right. One flight and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully omitted. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rockin’ the boat,” my new boss, Sammy, said to me curtly. I’ve not discussed it since.

The part of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert. It comprised many green corridors peppered with tall wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Of course, whether or not we wanted to know the nature of the research, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists. Or maybe paleontologists. I often found different objects lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths or even fossilized remains. Others were less identifiable: a melted lump of some glimmering metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.

As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we played cards and drank Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the researchers. Most of them were mean and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies liked was a scrawny guy named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.

It was earlier, at 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited, their lab coats flapping and flowing as they made for the stairs. Soon after this, the large red landline phone near my desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Sammy’s voice was uncharacteristically anxious, “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up. They want to bring it to B.15 so I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” she grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I’ll get some of the boys from B.10 and B.14 to help you out.” I nodded, “Thanks, see you soon”

Donald, Jonesy, some interns and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we met the guards from B.10. and B.14, together we climbed the many stairs to the hangar and waited for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.09 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity, waiting in the shade of the doorway as the relentless sun beat down outside. I squinted. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter with an enormous rectangular shaped mass dangling below it.

Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto a wide wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about. The air was blaring with the sound of helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down. My colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Sammy emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. Her hair was in its characteristic librarian-bun but her eyes were glassy. Had she been drinking? We quickly reviewed the paper work she gave me and then she made her way back downstairs to her office in section B.1. She was keen to get away for some reason.

As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto a wooden scaffold fitted with wheels and had been pushed slowly into the center of the hangar. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs, leaving plenty of space for the object.

The object was a wall. It was rectangular and about twenty-five feet long, ten feet thick and twelve feet high. The wall first appeared made from boring grey stone. I even remember thinking, “It’s not even that big”. However, when I looked closer it was, alive. I barely noticed the helicopter take off and leave as I saw the wall’s surface bubble. The hangar doors began to close as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name. I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought dug into my mind: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotten clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall, “Honestly, we have no idea”.

I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled, “Guh, this thing smells like something my dog puked up”. Meanwhile Jonesy stared with eyes as large as saucers, “It looks so cool!” Once downstairs, I told Donald and Jonesy to take some forms to the admin department and I returned alone to my office to get some more coffee and file away the rest of the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the force fusing my eyelids together.

I’ve been hungover a lot, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularlyawful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses. My forehead throbbed and I was bruised. I also felt a weird pressure squeezing my head from all sides. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.

Then I froze.

A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table at the center of the room. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying there, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of dark scarlet stained his blue uniform. His eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I ran to my landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.

The line was dead.

I was so confused. We had lots of fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. I rushed back to the monitors. The cameras were all operating normally. I started to breathe heavily. I couldn’t see anyone. The corridors were green and bare. I looked at the clock. It was 1817h. I had slept for about two hours. But where was everyone? Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and my head was throbbing. My eyes narrowed with a sudden thought. Where was that wall?

I searched for the wall and found it was back in the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was absolutely enormous! Just over two times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. The hangar floor was covered in blood. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?

I spun my head to look at the security panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already racing, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized Donald must have activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did I really sleep through all this? Where was Jonesy? I looked back at Donald, my heart still racing from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was now 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.

Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that displayed the footage of room 278B and the surrounding corridors. The screens were black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I have to know. I hit play.

The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything was normal. It was 1623h when they were unstrapping the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the flesh of the wall. It wrapped around Benny and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced.

Without realizing it I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew a few inches higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched into a permanent scream. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridors outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the thralls. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray research intern to her feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.

I could still hear the pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew. More ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it reached everyone in the Facility. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison, with vacant expressions, they moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Sammy and Jonesy, and so many others I knew. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.

A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the intern he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.

As soon as Donald got close to 278B a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into his chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall to the ground. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took this opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and, still fumbling with his keys, attempted to open the ammunitions cupboard. Before he could find the right key, he cursed and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!

My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved. Why not Donald? And me? My eyebrows shot up into my receding hairline with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” And Donald had a steel plate in his skull too because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it meant the thing possesses sentience.

While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person even noticed. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.

It was 1735h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t appear to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity found only in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they did not yield. After just over half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already? I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.

Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. My eyes grew even wider and I grabbed at my hair, “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new clarity to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were sunken and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier?”, I gasped with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”

I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the twenty pounds of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”

Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves burned with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were the longest I’d ever experienced. Eventually dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.

BANG!

The door shook and bent slightly.

BANG!

Silence.

BANG!

My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. I turned to look at the screens. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as they flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thingwas in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”

I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a sawed-off shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs. I walked up the stairs carefully. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. After many minutes, I was near the hangar. Then I heard the soft sound of crying.

Someone was crying. No. Many people were crying.

I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. Once my head peeked over the top of the landing, I froze. The wall loomed gigantic before me. Its edges were now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony; tortured souls bound together. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But you will” came the sound of hundreds of twisted voices fused into one. “We are them. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.”
A deafening blast came from the wall and slithering, tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitched roar that was pure torment, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I slammed into the floor a few feet away. As I hit the ground I yelled in pain and heard something metallic smash. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. I noticed immediately that the remote detonator had been smashed beyond repair. With the creature momentarily out of sight, I kneeled and took off my backpack as fast as I could. “Only one way then”, I said quietly as I pulled out the bomb and started the timer manually. I also got the shotgun out. I needed to do this now or never.
As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was way too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into one of the creature’s mouths and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of grey chunks. These rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircrafts. The blast knocked me off my feet.
When I awoke I could see early morning light through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I coughed and lifted my head to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my mouth opened. They were melting. I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2. It was rebuilding itself.
As I stood to run I heard a groan. My blood became ice.

I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I’d shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had six legs which came out of its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my feet were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor’s closet I found and locked the door. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.

Now I lie in wait. What is that thing? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further.

So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside!

Shit! Shit! I hear keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?

Oh God! The doorknob is turning...