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About The Author - Belkacem BENHAMMOU
Resume Ingénieur Internet & stats diplômé 2002 polytech'Lille : éducation financière, liberté financière, esprit critique

 

creators Howard Burd

A group of young people, guided by an app which connects living with the dead, find themselves at an abandoned castle. A place with a horrific history tied to each of them, for reasons they'll soon discover

score 288 Votes

Horror

actors Jon Abrahams, Kevin Pollak

Director Waymon Boone

If you like scary movies you should check out Apparition. I've been watching horror flicks since the 80's and this one to me fits in somewhere between the "Scream" style movies and a B flick.
In summary it's about a group of kids who use an app that connects them with the other side, revealing their past. Things however take a major turn and it gets dark real fast.
At times I felt a bit uncomfortable due to the horrible situations you'll will witness at this once boys reform school, but it adds to the overall mood and works well.
Walk into this one with an open mind a bag of popcorn and you won't be disappointed.

 

Another one of my Frightful Friday narrations for my YouTube channel. Wrote this short story awhile back. Hope you enjoy! I bring you this story from the seat of madness. Hence, there may be little credibility to be found here amongst those of sane wit in normal society. Long past are the days when I was viewed competent by my peers. Nevertheless, many stories are never told, but often are buried with the souls who lived them. My silence cannot be kept. I am determined to share the entirety of what took place in the house at the end of the lane. I awoke that Tuesday morning at four a. m. to the most putrid of odors. Along with the smell came a cold clamminess and a palpable tension, both of which permeated the manor. I gasped a bit as my naked toes contacted the icy wooden floorboards. My breath frosted the air before me though it was the middle of July. The darkness felt as though it were closing in around me, the pace of my inhalation quickening as if I’d suddenly become deprived of oxygen. Having acquired my current estate at 1200 Woolf Lane some twenty years previous in the year 1848, never had such a frightening sensation gripped me. I had originally purchased the property as a young man in hopes that it would bring me inspiration for my debut novel. The homestead had a good deal of history and I’d expected the new home and surrounding countryside would spur motivation in me to create a masterpiece. Sadly, two decades into my career mediocrity seemed to have its claws hooked firmly into me. I managed to maintain a meager income at best, just enough to take care of myself and the small family I had the desire of beginning after my recent marriage. Fortunately, my new bride was sound asleep above, safe within the confines of our bedroom. I attempted to run as far away as the soles of my weary feet would carry me. Yet I found myself unable to move, at least not in the direction I wished to flee. Instead I found myself enshrouded by night being drawn toward the basement stairs. Tonight, the house was as pitch black as an underground cavern. My heartbeat quickened, my body tensing as I continued struggling to escape whatever poltergeist the witching hour had conjured for me. My steps were slow, shuffling, as if I were pulled by some massive unseen force. As I reached the door it burst open, releasing a blast of air far more frigid than the two upper levels, sending chills anew down my spine as I stood peering into the shadows below. Suddenly a face appeared in the gloom, the pallid visage of a woman in her mid-twenties. She wore a high-collared white dress, blood staining the front of it. Her teeth bared in a hideous grin as she looked up at me. Her right jaw bone was exposed and hung slightly from her face. She spoke yet her mouth never motioned the act, the sound coming to me as both one voice and many reverberating whispers as she inquired, “Do you recall me, John? ” I was rooted to the top stair in terror as she lifted one daintily shoed foot. Then she was right before me, my head in her hands as she sneered, “How could you have done this to me, my love? ” My olfactory senses recoiled instantly upon entry of the horrid stench of that undoubtedly demonic apparition into my nostrils. Vomit bubbled into the back of my throat and I felt as my knees went weak, giving way from the absolute shock of my predicament. I opened my mouth to call for help, only to find my voice having left me along with any resolve or courage I thought myself to have previously possessed. The cold and the rage were too much to bear, such awful rage! Succumbing to the realm of the unconscious, I awoke sometime in the late afternoon, in bed, to my wife calling me down to the dining hall for supper. It was as if the events of last evening had been nothing more than the stuff of nightmares after all. Her love of formal dinners had always been my least favorite of her characteristics. I internally despised the strictness of being required to abandon my writing for any length of time while working, but had never wished to disappoint Katia or upset her in any way. So, I had early in the relationship resigned myself to the rigidity of this “dinner” practice so coveted by her, quietly suffering through simply to maintain the smile on her beautiful, slender, face. Groaning, I rolled to my feet and tried with increasing effort to ignore the throbbing headache in my temples. The pain’s intensity grew, however, as I fumbled through the oak wardrobe across the room searching for a clean shirt to don. Dizziness and nausea overtook me then, and I grabbed for the chamber pot in the corner to my left. “What’s happened, are you alright? ” Katia exclaimed, entering the room to find me heaving. Once able to respond I told her I would be fine, that a summer illness of some sort had come over me. I told her I would remain in our quarters for supper and perhaps feel better on the morrow. Then I turned to embrace her and both the smile she wore and color faded from her rosy cheeks, her eyes growing ever wider and concerned. “My God, John, who’s done this to you?! ” She cried and rushed to me, turning me to the vanity mirror. There, on each side of my face, were handprints seared into my skin! I could not believe what my eyes beheld. The comforting theory of it all having been a dream evaporated and for a moment I felt as though I were plummeting from a great height. I sat down on the edge of the bed, absent-mindedly rubbing my head. Katia began to inquire further, wanting to pry from me anything I would tell her of these strange marks. I refused to give her any new information for fear that she would delve further into the matter, though why I so feared that aspect I had no idea at the time. * * * Days passed, then weeks, months, and years. Ten years to be exact. I’d sealed the doors to the basement. Things in the house as well as between Katia and I had long since returned to normal, though there was still the rare occasion in which I would awake in the pre-dawn hours fighting the strongest of urges to return to the cellar. I’d not seen the woman in the white dress again, but could not avoid the notion that it was she who called to me from down below. One grand thing had come from the experience. Fear had become my muse for my writing. I never told anyone my own story, but used the inspiration I gained from the unexplainable phenomenon to create a very successful novel series. At long last I’d risen to fame as an author. I was finally able to give my wife all of the luxury and finery either of us could ever have dreamed, the estate being filled now with the most fashionable furniture, exquisite wall décor, richly embroidered tapestries, etc. Then I learned Katia was with child, my child! My life could not have been more magnificent. Little did I know, it was not meant to last. A week after learning of my fatherhood I began waking in the night drenched in cold sweat, the same deathly sulfuric waft as that dreadful night once again thick in the air. At first it was only the smell, and only at night. Then it filled the house during the day as well; I alone seemed victim to it, and was most thankful Katia had been disturbed by none of this. The angst to go downstairs grew stronger than ever along with the fetor, and I began catching glimpses of that horrible woman. This was only in passing initially, I would see her in the corner of my eye yet when I turned to look she had vaporized into nothingness. Things escalated quickly, however, and she soon began following Katia around the house. She always stared over Katia’s shoulders, grinning malevolently at me or giggling manically and running her fingers through Katia’s lovely, dark curls. Beginning to fear for her safety in earnest, I told her of the sightings (naturally leaving out details on what had happened all those years ago). She laughed me off, telling me I’d spent too much time writing as of late and that I should take a few days to get out of the house and enjoy the springtime whilst it remained. A large part of me, wishing and hoping she was right, took her advice. It was late April, the sun comforting in its warmth, the breeze calm as if just for our pleasure. We gathered everything we needed, stowing it in our picnic basket and strolling through the nearby meadow to the tree line where we sat in the shade of an ancient elm to take our sustenance. The longer I spent away from the house, the happier I became, and truly did feel as though Katia had been most accurate. There was still a gnawing sensation in my gut though, that longing to return to the basement or to at least look toward the house. Finally, I could harbor it no more. I pulled my flask of scotch from my breast pocket for some liquid courage and glanced up the narrow drive toward the isolated estate. I involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing all appeared to be fine, at least from where we were. When we returned a few hours later we were bewildered to find the house in utter chaos and all the servants terrified beyond their wits. It looked as though a tornado had ravaged the mansion’s interior; every single room was in disarray. Most terrifying to me though, was that the basement door had been torn open, laying splintered in the foyer. I tried as hard as I could to persuade Katia to traverse the twenty miles to Chicago to take refuge at a hotel while I took care of settling things back down. She refused, being that the baby was due at any moment she didn’t want to risk giving birth on the road along with her desire to help any way she could. I did win the argument over her resting for the evening, however, and was quite proud of myself. How my regret abounds over that decision to this day. I would do whatever it took, even if it meant taking my own life, to avoid what was to come later that night. I awoke the same as so many nights previous. The cold. The reek. That feeling of a powerful magnet in my chest, pulling me, pulling me. Unlike the other nights, though, Katia was not lying in her sweet repose undisturbed, but was gone from the room. Knowing somehow that she was down below, I flew down the basement steps, tripping along the way and crashing to a heap at the bottom landing. My forehead smacked against the hardwood, and it was as if I were transported to another time. Images flashed rapidly before my mind’s eye, memories it would seem of myself and that vile creature which had been plaguing me. Only in these memories she was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I had ever seen, far more so even than Katia. She suddenly seemed so… familiar to me, and yet still too strange to place a name to that elegant physique. The picture before me changed from one setting to another. A masquerade, a family gathering, private moments between she and I that I racked my brain to recognize. All scenes were from this house, transitioning so quickly I could no longer maintain concentration: until it suddenly halted on one. My cousin, Malcom, and the woman stood facing each other in the parlor. The expression on her face was one of both exasperation and intimidation as he closed the space between them, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist to pull her against his chest. She threw her hands up to push him back, to no avail. He crushed his lips roughly to hers regardless of her fight to free herself from his grasp. Then it all came crashing back to me. I had immediately assumed her disloyalty upon catching the two of them alone. At the time I cared not how desperately she tried to inform me of the truth. In my fury… In my fury I’d beaten her, then walled her into the basement pantry. I’d left her there, badly wounded, abandoned her to die. How I had managed to repress such a disgusting crime, committed by mine own hands, was well beyond my understanding. The blood drains from my face at the realization even today, and I shudder to think of the grotesqueness of it all. “Anna. ” The name left me as a whisper, full of disbelief though at long last I knew exactly who the phantom was and how I had wronged her. I found Katia in the corner of the cellar in front of the brick wall. She’d clawed the thing till blood dripped from her fingers and still more pooled around her. My only thoughts were of her safety and that of the baby’s as I cautiously approached. She turned on me like a rabid dog as I reached for her, producing a large carving knife I’d been unaware of. “She’s here, she’s here! You forgot about Anna, she’s always been here! ” She kept frantically repeating, backing away from each step I took forward. Her eyes darted wildly about the room. Tears streamed down her face. I stretched out my hands to reason with her, anything to get her back up those steps to make sure our baby was alright. Suddenly Anna manifested behind her, glaring at me over Katia’s shoulder. “Hello John. My vengeance is finally here. ” Her lips never moved, but the words echoed in my head. I wanted to plead, beg for forgiveness, for her to end this insanity. Before I could speak, though, Katia let out a shrill scream, and plunged the knife through her thin gown and into her pregnant belly. I fought to stop her and found myself totally paralyzed. I stood there, forced to gaze in horror as she stabbed again and again, before slumping lifeless to the dirt floor. “Dear God. ” A single whimper, at last, vibrated through my vocal chords. Having crouched to my knees, I crawled through the dust to Katie and my baby. I cradled her in my arms as the warmth faded from her body, sobs shaking my body to its core. Everything to follow was completely a blur, but I do recall the authorities upon finding me after the servants had discovered everything in a state of sheer upheaval. The knife which had been in Katia’s hand was found gripped tightly in my own. I’ll never have proof, but I know it was Anna who put it there. Needless to say, I have been blamed for the homicides of all three deceased as they also recovered Anna’s body. Nary a soul has ever deigned to claim belief in my rueful tale, and I have been confined to live out the rest of my life in this asylum. Sorrow, such unimaginable sorrow, will follow me until the day I perish. On the anniversary of her death, Anna always manifests to me, reminding me that she will never be forgotten… And that I shall never have peace again.

Free Stream Preston School of industry news. When frightening events start to occur in their home, young couple Kelly and Ben discover they are being haunted by a presence that was accidentally conjured during a university parapsychology experiment. The horrifying apparition feeds on their fear and torments them no matter where they try to run. Their last hope is an expert in the supernatural, but even with his help they may already be too late to save themselves from this terrifying force. Duration: 82 min Quality: HD Release: 2012 IMDb: 4. 1.

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Girls, girls, girls! 😂😂😂. I was a bit concerned, because my taste in scary flics is a bit picky. But this one is great! It combines today's tech with a classic scary horror story. The plot and action build to a bunch of jump-out-of-your-seat moments that took me by surprise. Great believable cast, including Kevin Pollack, who plays a truly evil sinister role. The fact that it is based on true events, and was filmed at the very haunted building where the story took place, makes it even more creepy. Not sure you want the little kids to see this, at least not at night just before bed. But I'll be watching this again. Free stream preston school of industry jobs. This could have been a lot better had they got people who could actually act... From the start I lost interest due to the poor dialog and budget must have been very for this film as nearly the same tune is played out in the entire movie and every murder happened off screen with the audience left with just the sound of the killings... I don't normally rate movies on this as you can my God this is bad...

Free stream preston school of industry. Ça se voit bien que c'est une image de synthèse. It says there are 6 reviews. Then it becomes 3 critics reviews. When I check the critic review from Rotten Tomatoes there is no actual review. When I check for reviews there are none. And yet this movie has a rating of 8.5? What is going on here. Thats one stud monk. Free stream preston school of industry education. Free stream preston school of industry art. I'd like to say thank you to u/Plucium for helping me out of a pretty bad.. funk, we'll call it. I'd also like to apologize to all three of my readers- I hope y'all are still around and haven't forgotten me- for my unexpected hiatus from posting. I went through a devastating break up back in November and have been trying to be my own person again, along with trying to determine what that means. I tried to finish this chapter a couple times in that last several months, but I just wasn't feeling it. Thanks to my friends, family, and a certain semi-sentient fax machine, I have gotten my head mostly unscrambled, but heart beats once again, and I feel like I have at least an idea of who I am once more. So thank you, u/Plucium, and thank you r/HFY, because this sub has helped me find a piece of myself. I hope you all enjoy this long overdue chapter and as always, any critiques and pointing out of errors is appreciated! [ First Chapter] [ Previous] [[Next]] Kim felt her mind spin while the world roared around her. Something stabbed her inside both ears while her eyesight slowly cleared, slowly sharpening from a dark blur into focus. Raven and Kate were holding John back from running toward... what she could only vaguely make out as a black hole forming ten feet above the street. A dome of golden light glowed brightly only a couple yards from the screaming epicenter of swirling black chaos. The pain in her ears subsided some when a new wave of energy, originating from Raven, washed over her. She could feel Greg beneath the shield a dozen yards away as he lay bleeding upon the street. Her senses swam, her dizziness nearly overtaking her, when she tried to focus on the grievous wound upon Greg's back. Jets roared by overhead while Raven's hands came together above her. Kim could see about twenty crystals forming rings around the survivors of the battle. Four were melding into the shield over Greg while eight merged over the ruined jumble of police vehicles. She sensed two blend into a wall in front of their supply vehicles while six created an opaque golden dome above her and her friends. Kim sensed more than saw the missiles as they accelerated down, a dozen streams of flame trailing tubes of volatile explosives. She reached out to the projectiles, her head reeling with her insistence on using more power. The keening wail from the dark orb reached a glass-shattering pitch and intensity. The dome of golden energy flowed down as it sought to completely cover them in a bubble, like cold syrup poured over an upturned bowl. She managed to latch onto three of the missiles high above as they grew closer at immense speed. When they were two-hundred feet from impacting, Kim had only four missiles in her mental clutches. She squoze and poured heat into the weapons, managing to force the four missiles into an early detonation only a hundred feet above their heads and the nearly-formed barriers. The remaining eight missiles hit the dome as its edges made first contact with the street. The blinding detonations nearly blinded Kim as she instinctively crouched and covered her head. The roar of the blasts blended with the wail of the detonating black sphere. Hundreds of black needles punched into the glowing barrier as Raven's face tightened with her supreme effort to hold the shields together. The raging inferno above them burned at over 5, 000 degrees Fahrenheit, incinerating the surrounding vehicles and trees that were not within the shields. The temperature inside the dome rose dramatically, and sweat began to roll down Kim's forehead. The wailing screams of the dying summoner blended with the roar of engineered high explosives above. The flames roiling overhead added their own voice, whispering in Kim's mind of their power. She moved unconsciously, cradling The Candle before her as she turned her face skyward, feeling the flames that she could no longer see through the opaque barrier. She felt the thick black smoke rolling away from the devastation, the flames burning hot as they ate their fuel, a thick goo that would burn for the next several minutes. Kim began to sway, holding The Candle at chest height, and began to focus upon the raging inferno above. The demonic scream grew in pitch and intensity once more. The cracks in the golden barrier were growing rapidly as more black spears embedded themselves in the golden shell. The intense heat above did not seem to be as detrimental to Raven's shield as the continuous tsunami of black wind and dark lightning that lashed out at them from a dozen yards. Her concentration slipped for a moment when John let out an anguished cry, his hand outstretched, reaching for where Greg had lain under his own barrier. "GRRRREEEGGG! " John roared, somehow louder than the inferno and the death wail. John slumped into Kate's arms then, and she sank to the glassy asphalt, holding him gently. Kim managed to contain the flames directly above them, pulling the burning goo into the air and off of the shield and street. In moments she had all of the burning material from between herself and the cars as well, having been unable to pull the material from between her and Greg due to the chaotic unleashed energies of the dying summoner. She gathered the burning material into a cylinder and moved it from above her to the side, aiming for where she figured the center of the street to be. Raven whimpered as the flaming material drifted away, and in a heartbeat she shifted most of their shield dome into a wall directly between them and the black energy. Kim saw blood trickling from Raven's nose and the corners of her eyes while she strained against the mass of flaming material. She managed to condense the burning substance and awe touched the edges of her strained mind. The more compact the substance became, the more intense the flames became. The thick black smoke rolled away from them, the gale-force winds pushing it down the street even as it roiled into the sky. The twisting smoke column mesmerized Kim, causing her to miss the moment the screaming of the dying summoner cut off. The winds calmed and the last gouts of flame sputtered into smoke and drifted away. Kim realized she was shaking uncontrollably as she sank to her knees. -~~~~ Greg stood before the massive canyon once more. He felt his massive back wound through the fog of memory, as though it were far away and not the source of his unconscious near-death state. A thick black cloud hung over the opposite side of the canyon, casting the massive horde across the expanse in dense shadow. The horde shifted restlessly, a tide of chitin, spikes, undead flesh, demon flesh, and scaled hides waiting to be unleashed. Deep within the distance shadows Greg thought he saw a flash of purple lights, but a crackling web of lightning across the storm clouds distracted his vision. When he glanced back to the same spot the violet light had been, only the seething mass of the horde was visible. "Hey, " came his own voice from beside him, several paces away. Standing in a similar manner, he saw a slightly older version of himself. His form blurred for a moment, and the entire vision shifted with it. Other Greg was covered in a modern set of armor that looked to be a combination of medieval full plate and a special forces infiltration suit. "Hey... Again.. What is this place? " Greg asked his other self. "I can't say much, because uhh... well, Raven told me I can't. You'll want to wake up, soon. Raven is going to be asleep for a while after this, but she'll be fine. Be sure to grab that sword, it's important to them. " Older Greg said. "How do you know? " Greg asked, suddenly suspicious of himself. He wondered if the purple eyed demon was doing this as an illusion to set a trap, somehow. "Not a trap, no illusion. We have a scar from falling into a creek on our bike. A dumb little half bat half duck looking thing on my... our, left knee. " Other Greg said, gesturing to his own left knee while eyeing the seething horde. The wind picked up, then, and began to howl through the chasm before them. The clouds whirled above, and Greg saw winged shapes illuminated by the flashes of purple lightning within the clouds. Whispers began to flutter around the edges of his hearing, speaking nonsense and howling in unspeakable agony. Sand began to pelt him in the face and across his body, stinging his flesh wherever it was uncovered. A heavy weight filled Greg's chest, and his eyes watered with the burn and sting of the winds and sand. Other Greg had to raise his voice to nearly a shout to be heard over the new wind. "We have a long fight ahead of us.. John needs to get to work as soon as you guys get to the base. " Other Greg said as he patted the handles on his right hip, both of which were the same two daggers Greg had broken and mutilated over the last several days. "Oh, and you're going to want to not thrash around when you wake up. This warning kept me from falling out, so uh.. yeah. " Other Greg gave an awkward thumbs up. Greg tried to shout back a response, but his chest weighed too much for him to manage any words, much less a shout to be heard over the growing storm. Falling to a knee, Greg managed to look up at his older, larger self and noted a scaled bandolier with several large pouches across his chest. The strap lead around his torso and connected to the side of what looked to be a massive shotgun. His vision blurring, thoughts scrambling, and breath coming with great difficulty, Greg marveled at the barrel, which was entirely too large to be a twelve gauge. He coughed and blood spattered across the sand between himself and his other self. The shadows closed in, and the canyon trembled once more, as agony swept away his awareness. -~~~~ Raven's vision grew hazy while the ringing in her ears became a dull nothing. She could feel every thread of essence around her, and felt the threads within Greg becoming weaker by the moment. She folded and twisted the energies from the shields she had barely maintained into an intricate lattice surrounding Greg. The brilliant blanket drifted around his unconcious form, cradling him as it sought out his many wounds. Golden threads wove into the massive gash across his back, sealing off the flow of blood and knitting new flesh in moments. Raven's head throbbed, her vision becoming a red haze as she realized that she was being held by someone. Perhaps two people held her. Her concentration slipped as she tried to understand who held her, and failed to understand her inability to see. Panic seized her, causing her hold upon the reigns of the incredible energies surrounding Greg to fail. A fresh torrent of wind tore up the street as the energies around Greg became wild and untamed. The ensuing maelstrom lasted only an instant before the lashing tendrils of Primal Essence surged uncontrolled into Greg. Raven realized after several quick, panicked breaths that she was flat upon her back. She scrambled to her hands and knees, not hearing her own cries of pain as broken glass and asphalt tore at her hands and knees. She reached out with her mind, hoping to understand what was happening around her, only to experience crippling pain. Her head felt trapped within a spiked vice, and fresh lances of fire tore through her eyes, ears, and body. She felt herself collapse, and felt more sharp debris begin to tear at her as she began to spasm. Consciousness fled her before she felt the hands of her friends lifting her from the ground. -~~~~ John was clutching Kate, barely standing upright with her help, as Raven's healing suddenly became a violent roiling of power. He turned his head away from the writhing energy just in time to see Raven before the massive burst of wind sent him tumbling gracelessly to the ground. Panic gripped his heart as his mind flashed Raven's blood covered visage before his eyes. Blood had been trickling down her face from her eyes, ears, nose, and maybe even her mouth. She was several feet further from him than she had been, the strong wind having more ability to carry her frail form further than his. Kate was groaning, rolling over in a crackling noise of the debris around them. She heaved herself to a kneeling position, patting John gently on his shoulder. "Are you okay, John? Do you think you can stand up if I-" Kim's questions halted abruptly when Raven began shrieking in pain. Screaming weakly and incoherently, Raven was shifting aimlessly on all fours, her screams becoming confused and incoherent. Kate shakily rose to her feet and staggered toward Raven. Kate had only taken one step when Raven collapsed, spasming and flailing wildly. Raven's screams became a whimper, which faded away before Kate could roll Raven onto her back and pull the frail girl up to cradle her in her arms. The spasms faded with her whimpers. Kate turned to face John, having heard him pulling and scraping his way over. "She's breathing, but it's shallow. Stop moving, damnit! You're ripping your skin to ribbons! " Kate put more force into her voice than she truly had the energy to back. John shivered in place before letting out a wretched sob and rolling onto his back. Something tugged at his vision, and turning his head to the side John was only inches from several glowing crystals. Dozens upon dozens more were scattered across the broken street. A deep growl drew his attention to his other side. Standing over Kim as she lay spread out like she had been making snow angels, Shadow was scenting the air, a confused air to her movements. "Mmmmggggrerrrrr, " Shadow grumbled before nudging Kim with a massive paw. Further up the street John could see the confused officers staggering among their wrecked and battered vehicles. One of them pointed in John's direction and the more coherent among them began to cautiously approach. "Kate, " John started to say something before she cut him off. "I'll handle this, John, just stay quiet and try not to move much. I'm not sure how, but I guess you haven't noticed the several shards of glass sticking out of you? " Kate said while still cradling an unconcious Raven. The lead officer had an assault rifle tucked to his shoulder and was still a good fifty feet from Shadow when he held a hand up and halted the six following him. Shadow was still scenting the air, but paused in her task to give the officers a quizzical look. Her tail quivering in the air behind her. "DON'T MOVE, PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR, AND GET ON THE GROUND! CALL YOUR ANIMAL OFF, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE! " The lead officer shouted, his voice uneven, changing pitch with nearly every word from his barely contained panick. Kate whistled, drawing Shadow's attention, and nodded her head when the large feline glanced back at her call. Shadow half-turned and looked to John, only trotting back to them when he weakly gestured to the feline with a summoning motion. "I can't put my hands up without injuring my friend, and he, " nodding her head in John's direction, she continued "is also quite wounded. My name is Kate Silver, and I am a federal agent. I need to speak to the officer in charge here! There are wounded civilians up this street behind us, and there are several bio-hazardous objects in this immediate vicinity! You need to see to your wounded and get medical attention on the civilians! " The officer was about to respond after sharing several confused looks with his fellow officers, when the low thumping of helicopter blades could be heard coming from the north. Looking first north, and then back to Kate, the officer hesitated another moment before easing his firing position to a slightly less aggressive stance. "What agency? " Another officer asked, her voice stronger and more collected than her assumed superior. Kate sighed, glanced at John, adjusted Raven's still form in her arms, and slowly stood up as Shadow slunk around her to stand near John and glare at the officers. When the officers shifted and took a nervous step forward, readying their weapons, Shadow assumed a sprinting stance with a deep growl rolling out of her savage maw. "Easy girl, " Kate whispered to Shadow before lifting her head and speaking up to the officers. "Not one you would recognize. Those Reavers will be here any moment, though, and if they see you pointing your guns at me you'll be on the very bad end of a very bad debriefing. " The noise of approaching helicopters was definitely drawing closer, and caused the officers to once more stare at each other uncertainly. With an agitated sigh, Kate ground her teeth, drew in a deep breath, and let loose her frustrations upon the confused and wild eyed officers. "YOU HAVE JUST WITNESSED THE BEGINNINGS OF AN ALL OUT INVASION OF OUR WORLD AND ARE UNCERTAIN HOW TO PROCEED WHEN DOZENS OF WOUNDED CONTINUE TO BLEED OUT WITHIN YOUR AREA OF OPERATION! PULL YOUR SNIFFLING HEADS FROM YOUR ASSES AND GET YOUR FUCKING SHIT TOGETHER, OFFICERS! GET YOUR FUCKING MED KITS OUT AND START RENDERING AID, OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL PUT YOU IN THE FUCKING GROUND MYSELF! " John was in awe of how red Kate's face had turned during her tirade, but had forgotten himself and began to sit up as if to set to the task of rendering aid himself. He winced and gasped in pain when several large shards of glass and glassified asphalt shifted with his movements. Kate's head whipped toward him, her cybernetic eye glowing a brilliant blue at its center. "NOT YOU! " With a slightly embarrassed cough, she repeated herself more softly. "Not you, John. You're one of the wounded right now. Stay still and try not to move, help is coming. " John nodded, and upon laying back down, began to succumb to his exhaustion and blood loss. He could hear officers scurrying around, several running for the vehicles up the road that the hell hounds had savaged. The last thing he saw before passing out was a pacing Shadow as she snuffed and snorted, confusion evident in her bewildered glances in every direction. -~~~~ Kate carried Raven toward the epicenter of the most recent miniaturized storm, the area around Greg being the only spot clear of debris for any appreciable distance. The officers had been stunned by her verbal assault, and spurred into action the moment she glanced back to them after telling John to lay down. The female officer that had asked Kate which organization she worked for approached with a large med kit. Kate nodded to her as she lay Raven down near Greg as gently as she could. "Do Not touch anything that glows, or looks like black metal. These two should be safe to touch. They've both lost a lot of blood and the girl's eyes are damage, so Do Not shine a light in them. " Kate spoke rapidly while maintaining eye contact with the woman, Officer Boe by her name tag, and nodded to her before shifting to examine Greg. Face down on the torn asphalt, Greg was barely breathing. Kate shifted the debris beneath him just enough to make it easier for him to breath. His back had been torn from shoulder to waist, ripped horrifically by the serpentine claymore their enemy had wielded. That very sword lay only a few feet away, somehow barely disturbed by the winds that had ripped through this area moments ago. Raven's healing had been incomplete, and the wound showed horrific scarring in a random web-like pattern, while still oozing blood in several places. Muscle and connective tissue was easily visible in many places where the blood still trickled out from. His pulse was weak, but steady for now. Rushing winds forced Officer Boe to hunker down over her med kit and Raven as a dozen large helicopters swayed to a levitating halt above them. Reaver class helicopters had been developed fifteen years ago, and proven in the wars across Africa and Australia. Combining the assault power of the old Apache class with the ability to carry eight fully armed operatives at incredible speeds, they were a fearsome platform. Thick black ropes uncoiled from the side doors of each Reaver before the helicopters were even done stabilizing over the area. Operatives in black armor and bristling with weapons slid down the ropes, landing with such force that Kate heard some of the impacts over the noise of the rotors overhead. Each Reaver paused for mere heartbeats, disgorging their assault crew and veering off to assess the situation around them. In less than a moment ninety-six heavily armed operatives were rapidly taking control of the area and situation. Kate had been shielding Greg's wound from the flying debris and dust with her own battered body when the wind died down and the noise moved off from overhead. Heavy footsteps approached her and sturdy combat boots crunched glass and rock. "Agent Silver? " A man asked, a deep baritone behind an armored black face mask. The faceplate was completely opaque, looking like a single smooth piece of metal, giving the Reaver Leaper, as she called them, a sinister mechanical look. Kate looked up at the man as he casually stepped over the massive black sword, and stared at where she assumed his eyes would be. He swiveled his head left and right, pausing for a breath longer when he was looking in the direction of the civilians in their hound ravaged vehicles a hundred yards up the road and further. "I am, " she told him, nodding slightly before getting back to tending Greg's wounds. Ripping open a back of QwikClot, she poured the powder onto the worst of the still-bleeding areas. The large man reach into one of the many pockets on his tactical vest and pulled out an earpiece. Handing it to her, he said "Already cued to local ops. We have our orders, so don't get in the way. Chinooks are on the way with more medical and containment. My men won't touch the hazards, and they're already tending to survivors. I'm Seargant Hammond. Glad you made it out, but I'll be looking forward to hearing about the how on this. " With a nod, Hammond turned on his heel in a sickening grating crunch of glass, and jogged down the road. Kate spent several minutes tending to Greg, getting a saline bag set up to rehydrate him some, among stopping the flow of blood from a dozen other wounds she had to look for. The puddle of blood she crouched in was horrifying in size, but part of her was reassured that it couldn't have been truly enough for a ten-foot wide puddle. The burst of wind must have spread the blood out from his body a considerable distance, and the multitude of splash marks reinforced that idea. Kate listened in to the reports coming in from the operatives, and heard the medical and containment chinooks chime in with a three minute ETA just as she had finished what she felt she could do for Greg, which was putting a second bag of saline on his drip. She took in the situation around her as she stood. Shadow was pacing anxiously nearby, sniffing at the ground, air, and people whenever they drew close. Officer Boe, her jet black hair a disheveled mess, had acquired help with Raven's wounds from one of the operatives, and was dressing Raven's left hand, a pile of bloody glass sitting on a medical cloth at her side. Nodding to the officer and the operative, seeing that John was being tended to by three people, Kate decided to ease Shadow's tension. Take several painful steps toward her, Kate called to Shadow. "Shadow! What is it, girl? We got them all and help is here. It's okay, girl. C'mere and let's look at you, your side is injured, I can tell. " Shadow glanced her way, uncertainty plain in her eyes, before grumbling as only a large cat can and trotting over. The noise of a Reaver flying over the street in the direction the police had earlier arrived from drew Kate's attention. She glanced across and between wreckage, seeing the police blockade had been filled with spectators and that most of the officers had been put on civilian containment. Beyond the horde of people milling about, pressing for a better view, Kate caught a glimmer of purple as sunlight reflected off of a man's sunglasses. She started to look away, but her synthetic eye automatically focused on the man, the tactical programming of the eye mistaking the reflection for an enemy optical sight. Kate saw that the man had a thin, sardonic smile on his rotund face. His suit was finely tailored, but seemed a size too small for him. He stood next to the open rear door on a dark luxury sedan, his hands clasped atop an antique looking cane. Kate, focused on the man, missed when Raven mumbled something. "Kate! " Officer Boe called to her. "Your friend is saying something... about a man? Purple... glasses? " Kate's eyes widened, and she reflexively whipped her head around to face Raven and her two caretakers. Raven's lips were barely moving, repeating whatever it was she was saying. Officer Boe leaned in more to hear her better. "She says stop the man in purple glasses? I think she's going delirious from blood loss and trauma-" Officer Boe was saying more, but Kate had already begun to run. "Weapons up! Weapons up! " Kate called into the channel, causing heads to whip up and guns to materialize in the hands of every operative. "Hostile contact east! Purple sunglasses, business suit, black luxury sedan! REAVERS! DO NOT LET THAT VEHICLE GO! " An operative tending to a wounded officer had his weapon slung across his back. An AR-45 with an extended barrel, and more accessories than Kate ever cared to put on her own guns. She ran toward him, gesturing for his weapon. The man unclipped his sling, and tossed the bulky weapon to her as she ran by. Leaping atop an overturned police van, Kate brought the rifle up to a firing position. Two Reavers raced by overhead as another tore in from the south. The man had climbed into the vehicle and it was speeding away, nearly out of sight already. Kate flipped on the laser sight, and held it steady on the rear of the car. "Target is painted, weapons free, Reavers. " Kate ordered calmly. Two rockets tore away from the lead Reaver, screaming like birds of prey as they accelerated rapidly, diving a mere hundred feet onto the vehicle below and ahead. The explosion could be heard an instant later, and the people that had been pestering observers became panicked distractions. Kate kept her borrowed optics on the burning wreckage, having watched the vehicle tumble and roll to a wrecked halt. "This is Reaver six, target is down. " The pilot reported over comms. Just as the pilot's mic clicked off, a lance of energy, jet black and crackling with purple arcs of lightning, tore through the wreckage and punched clean through Reaver Six. The other two reavers banked hard and began pummeling the burning wreckage of the car with rockets and their 20mm cannons. Reaver Six, in the meantime, hung in the air for a single breath before detonating in an explosion that sent a gust of wind across Kate's grim face a moment later. After hundreds of rounds and a couple dozen rockets had reduced the area into a flaming crater nearly fifteen yards wide, the reavers backed off and began circling, looking for signs of movement. "Reaver three here, I think we got the bast-" one of the pilots began to say after several tense moments. Kate saw a brilliant flash of purple from within the orange flames, and two burning lines were etched across her vision as both of the remaining Reavers were pierced by spears of energy identical to what had brought down Reaver Six. Kate felt her heart stop before dropping into her stomach. That much firepower would have reduced an entire armor column to slag. Her organic eye stung from directly observing the brilliant beams, but she continued to watch the flames. "Reavers three and.. unsure of the other's designation.. are down. Requesting immediate evacuation, this is out of our ability to take down on sight. I repeat, immediate evac-" Kate cut herself off as a figure began to emerge from the burning crater. At first the figure appeared to be massive, four arms and several horns jutting out from a large head atop shoulders belonging to a giant. Kate centered her targeting on the shadow visible through the flames, her eye syncing with the gun's own optics to put her hit rate at 99. 9% for current focus. An instant later though a man stepped from the edge of the crater to her right, his eyes gleaming with a purple light. A pair of bent purple sunglasses hung from one of his hands. His ill-fitting suit was torn on both sides and smoldered in several places. The man bent down as Kate caressed the trigger. The bullet split the air behind his head as he stooped, picked up a large square object from the rubble on the street, and turned to face her. From nearly three hundred yards he looked straight at her, and smiled sardonically. Kate caressed the trigger again. The rotund, vile man gave a careless wave of his hand and a purple spark flared up in the center of his forehead. He smiled, brought what looked to be a massive book up to his portly chest, and tapped his fingers across the edges of the book. His smile grew inhumanely wide. Kate fired a three round burst at his chest. Two more arms came up from the man's side, longer just as inhuman as the needles filling the grin that split his head in half. The creature dropped through the street, a black portal seething where it had just stood. Three bullets ripped through empty air. Kate took a shuddering breath, realizing that she had heard alien whispers in her head in the last moments of eye contact. Shadow roared her dismay, having mounted the overturned van with Kate. People screamed and continued to run, film, or pace and babble in panic. The Chinooks landed and began their evacuation of the wounded. Hazmat teams put every last crystal and relic into sealed, armored cases. The black sword was wrapped in a lead fabric tarp and placed beneath the pile of armored cases. Shadow paced anxiously. Following each medical team as they carried first Raven, then Greg and John nearly in tandem, and finally Kim, onto the troop transport. Kate had to reassure both the medical teams and Shadow that they, and she along with her people, would be fine. Convincing the crew to allow the cat on board took some doing, but convincing Shadow to stay still upon takeoff had been more challenging. Kate had a team load everything from Raven's SUV and the stolen Suburban onto the final transport. Everyone that had been injured and still alive when the Reavers arrived was in stable condition. The death toll had been high, with nearly one hundred people perished, not counting those used in the creation of the 'shamblers' as Greg and his people had called them. Or, she thought to herself, perhaps it's Kim and her crew? Patting a nervously shaking Shadow on her matted shoulder, Kate settled into the webbing of her chair, watching the dozen medics tend to the eighteen injured on this flight. The chinooks lifted off, leaving behind the Reavers and their special forces operatives to clean up an awful mess and await the true cleanup crew. Kate wondered how long it would be until they wouldn't be able to clean up any more messes. Kate wondered how big the next one would be. She stared out of the small round window, watching the landscape streak by below her. -~~~~ Kim shook all over. Her body spasmed and writhed, shaking hard enough to fracture her bones when her limbs came down on the street. She thought she hears shouting at one point, and then figments of people were nearby. The world seemed to be ringing like a bell beneath her. She shook as the bell tolled. Or did the bell toll to her shaking? Whispered words flitted into her ears. Or perhaps the whispers were in her head? She felt fire coursing through her veins. Heat rolled across her entire body in waves separated by an arctic chill. More people were around her. She felt something calling to her nearby. So many little whispers almost within reach. Hot magma formed within her head, but when she opened her mouth to scream the heat escaped and she quivered harder from the cold. A voice said something to her, one of the people figments surrounding her. She registered the fact that her arms and legs were restrained, and began to thrash at her bindings. Felt heat gather in her palms, and heard more whispers from within and panicked whispers from without. Poooowwweeerrrr It caaan Be Yoourssss Taaaaake it Allll of iiiit Mooore pooowwwer sssshould be Yoouurss Suddenly, two bright yellow eyes filled her vision, and Kim quivered once before falling into oblivion. -~~~~ John dreamed of swinging an ornate hammer, striking glowing metal that had rested within the bed of coals beside him. His stump ached, but his arms weren't tired yet, so on he swung. Trading the bar into the coals for one that glowed bright, he swung the hammer. He did not seem to notice the large figure standing behind him, observing every strike. Not once did the observer have to tell John when to switch the metals, nor where to strike. Tears fell from the giant's eyes in small rivulets, cutting through the soot of ages upon the apparition's cheeks. John paused his swinging of the hammer as a warm droplet fell upon his right shoulder. He swapped the bar her was working on for the hottest one, but before he could swing the hammer, another warm droplet landed on his left shoulder this time. "Find the Light, primal one, " a voice whispered in his ears. "Fight back what my people could not. Fare thee well. " John looked over both shoulders, and when he didn't see anything he slowly looked around the dark smithy. The glowing coals illuminated the entire space. Orange light reflected off of hundreds of metallic surfaces. A cold breeze surged into the otherwise empty smithy, and John turned back to his work, a confused thought settling into the back of his head. Goodbye, Danival. Until we meet again. -~~~~ Kim stared at Raven as they stood facing each other in the old woman's home. The creaking rocking chair sat empty and silent. No wind rustled the curtains, nor the bushes outside of the open window. Raven held a hand out to her reaching for Kim as she leaned forward, eyes beginning to squint as though to focus on her. Raven stepped forward and Kim followed suit, reaching for her friend. The house vanished in a blast of acrid, fetid wind. The heat began to wear at Kim's endurance instantly. A storm surged out from Raven, pushing Kim away. She saw Raven's face grow tight with worry, and then panic. Raven was groping blindly at the air, her mouth opening and closing in soundless pleas and screams. You cannot sssaave her You aaare weak Yhooouu cannot sssave anyone You are NOTHING Kim fought against the wind, forcing herself to take one more step. Kim reached out, almost grabbing Raven's wrist as she slowly spun and wobbled in place. One more step would let her save her friend. Kim strained against the unnatural, and screamed with all of her rage against the storm and the whispers. One more step. -~~~~ Raven stared at Kim, but her vision began to blur. She reached a hand out, but was quickly unable to see the features of Kim's face. Her brilliantly crimson hair streaked with gold fading to a muddy blur. Kim's sharp eyes gleamed red and gold before fading into the tan blur of her face. The blur of Kim shifted, and Raven's world was suddenly filled with a raging storm. All light faded from her awareness, Raven groped the air around her. Whispers made no sense at the edge of her hearing. She turned in place, hoping Kim could find her still. The cold began to settle in at her feet first. The wind tore at her clothes and skin, stinging her face and clogging her ears. Her eyes felt nothing. Her eyes saw nothing. Her feet had gone numb so that she could not even feel the ground. She began to cry as she screamed, unable to hear her own voice in the tumultuous roar of the storm around her. She spun slower as she groped blindly outward, feeling like hours or days had passed in this awful place. She had to place each foot very carefully, and he legs had grown numb in the last few heartbeats. The wind began to push her around more easily. No sound escaped her lips when she screamed as she fell. Toppled over perhaps by the wind, or perhaps by a misplaced foot, she fell. Raven fell, and she felt no ground beneath her. Raven fell, and the void around her laughed.

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Walang alinlangan tunay ang mukha ni Mama Mary. Kc hinabilin nya n iukit ang mukha nya na kailangan n kung ano ang nkikita sa kanya Yun ang dapat makita ng tao. Hindi sya kathang isip lamang. Super scary! Me and my friends loved it. You don't see many movies like this.