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Registered Phenomena Code: 997
Object Class: Gamma-Red
Hazard Types: Toxic Hazard, Geological Hazard, Sentient Hazard, Grouped Hazard, Gravitational Hazard
Containment Protocol: All tunnel entrances are to be sealed with concrete inside the tunnel to a thickness of 10 meters. Pending Incident 997, all tunnels are to have anti-personnel mines placed inside and be capped with 10 meters of concrete. Entrances are to be monitored with seismic sensors and all entrances must be patrolled regularly to inspect for signs of damage or tampering.
Shaft 6 of RPC-997-1 is equipped with a small access shaft for the purpose of deploying remote exploration vehicles within the tunnels. To deter breach attempts and give advanced warning, all tunnel seals are further embedded with explosive fragmentation devices designed to detonate upon tampering or removal. Site security will maintain a company-sized presence at the site and conduct routine patrols and manual inspections of the site's security measures. Due to the effects of RPC-997-1's environment, it is highly recommended that any hostile engagements with instances of RPC-997-2 be conducted outside of any areas of anomalous influence.
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Description: RPC-997-1 is a complex of mine shafts within a mountain in the United States Pacific Northwest. Originally the tunnels began at the peak and extended vertically and horizontally throughout the mountain. The tunnel complex was originally excavated to mine silver in the early 1900s and is mapped with vertical shafts which extend to a depth of some 1596 meters. These shafts possess horizontal and diagonal interconnecting pathways with lengths of up to 1000 meters. These tunnels are accompanied by a variety of galleries, loading areas, ventilation shafts, drainage shafts, and ore chutes.
Due to spatial anomalies and anomalous geography, the original maps of the complex are no longer useful. When the 200-meter point within any tunnel is passed, anomalous geographic effects begin to manifest extending the tunnel's length far beyond any possible limits that could be contained within the mountain. Furthermore, as one progresses farther into the tunnel increasingly hazardous reality distortions begin to manifest. The severity of the reality distortion can be identified as an increasing amount of antiquated appearing machinery within the tunnels and embedded in the tunnel walls, gravitic disturbances, and occurrences of non-standard geometry.
Water has been seen flowing upwards to flood shafts that are overhead, dropped objects may fall sideways, or "fall" down a horizontal shaft. When following adjoining shafts, the individual may find that they have traveled in a circle back to the diversion point without departing from a straight line of travel. During exploratory missions, personnel have also reported periods of intense vertigo. This is most commonly reported to be in the form of a sensation that one is not walking in a horizontal tunnel but instead falling down a vertical shaft.
At the 2000 meter point, the machinery encountered will still be in operation despite advanced age and decay. Machinery manifests as rusted and mineralized riveted iron pipes, pressure tanks, gears, and crankshafts embedded or built into the walls for unknown purpose or function. 2000 meters beyond the first encountered instance of anomalous machinery, the air within the tunnels grows highly toxic. Atmospheric testing shows heavy concentrations of carbon monoxide, methane, and hydrogen sulfide. In addition to these toxic gases, the air will become increasingly devoid of oxygen the further one progresses. 200 meters into the toxic atmosphere is the exclusion zone from which no exploration vehicles or CSD personnel have been recovered to date. No further expeditions beyond this point are permitted.
Instances of RPC-997-2 are most commonly encountered within the confines of the toxic environment. Instances of RPC-997-2 are humanoid entities clad in antiquated mining SCBA respirators and mine rescue equipment whose make and model date to approximately 1890 to 1920. RPC-997-2 appear to be capable of full coordination even within complete darkness, suggesting that they utilize alternative senses to detect and interact with their environment. RPC-997-2 do not obey the known laws of physics and have been observed walking on both the ceiling and walls without effort. RPC-997-2 instances exhibit strength on par with that of an average human but, when within the effects of the reality hazard, seem to possess endless stamina and do not tire or slow due to injury or prolonged physical exertion.
RPC-997-2 move unhindered by the weight of their bulky equipment, which consists of antiquated breathing equipment, rubberized canvas, and leather suits. Instances of RPC-997-2 have been observed walking and running through fully submerged portions of RPC-997-1 as if water were not present. Additionally, instances of RPC-997-2 have been reported to dematerialize after turning corners into dead-end tunnels only to reappear and attack from behind, trapping their pursuer turned quarry.
RPC-997-2 cannot breathe regular atmosphere and appear to be fully dependent on the toxic atmosphere within the geographically distorted region of the tunnels. Their antiquated respiration equipment does possess a limited supply of this atmosphere, enabling them to conduct activity beyond the limits of the tunnel's toxic environment for a period of time. RPC-997-2's ability to violate gravity or standard geometry does not extend beyond the limits of the spatial anomaly. When inside the influence of the spatial anomaly instances of RPC-997-2 will make full use of their abilities to stage ambushes and will almost always attack from angles normally considered impossible when in the confines of normal reality.
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To date, no instances of RPC-997-2 have been successfully removed from the spatial anomaly for testing. If involuntarily removed from said toxic environment, instances will begin to undergo rapid decay, leaving behind only their clothing and corroded breathing apparatus. However, RPC-997-2 are fully capable of leaving the toxic atmosphere of the reality distortion on their own volition. Instances of RPC-997-2 have been spotted leaving the tunnel complex in order to assault and capture personnel who are then dragged back into the tunnel complex for unknown purposes. The rapid decay seems to only occur in the event of death or capture.
Instances of RPC-997-2 appear to be fully reliant on their breathing apparatuses while venturing outside of the tunnels. Instances of RPC-997-2 have been encountered individually or in groups of up to 8 in large numbers both within and outside the tunnel complexes on different occasions. RPC-997-2 will attempt to remove any obstacles or blockages within the tunnel complex. To date, no verbal contact with an instance of RPC-997-2 has been established but a badly corroded copper plaque located shortly before the point of no return exclusion zone was discovered with a more crudely etched scrawl upon its backing. It reads:
FRONT:
Below the earth, the light forsaken
Death forgotten, Life mistaken
loathe the sun
hate the sky
In this abyss we will never die
REAR:
GOD SAVE US
GOD CANNOT SEE YOU HERE!
BEGIN REPORT
At approximately 2330 local time on October [REDACTED], seismic sensors detected activity inside the barricade of shaft 6. Seismic signature indicated a high number of individuals and power equipment. Activity increased until noon the following day when sensors detected footsteps and power equipment moving away from the barricade. In this time period, ASF was moved to the location and established a cordon around the mouth of the tunnel. At 0200 a large blast destroyed the barricade.
A large number of RPC-997-2 advanced upon the ASF position utilizing a large ore car as moving cover. Despite being armed with only a collection of mining implements and blunt objects there was a sufficient enough number of RPC-997-2 that the force’s position became increasingly untenable. After 3 attempted assaults the ASF had suffered 8 fatalities, 4 serious casualties, and 6 members of the team had been captured and drug back into the tunnel system. Demolition charges were placed and detonated to collapse the tunnel and cover the security team’s egress. A relief force drawn from several strike teams and task forces arrived as reinforcement. No less than 4 hours after the tunnel collapse the RPC-997-2 assaulting force had cleared the blockage and again began to advance towards the tunnel entrance under heavy gunfire. Repeated waves of RPC-997-2 made attempts to seize the tunnel entrance but were repelled.
The following day the entrance to tunnel 3 was also demolished and the ASF standing sentry were all killed or captured. The RPC-997-2 assault began again, this time with a smaller force utilizing the nearby shaft 3 entrances as a position to launch flanking assaults to accompany their forward push in shaft 6. By day 5 assaults had become intermittent. Instances of RPC-997-2 began launching suicide bombing attacks in which single members strapped large bundles of crude explosives to their torsos which were attached by a spool of wire to antiquated plunger-box style mining detonators activated by the second instance of RPC-997-2 farther back in the tunnel. These attacks were devastating within the confined space of the tunnel and Authority casualties mounted. By day 7 attacks had ceased altogether. All total the joint response force suffered ██ fatalities, ██ injuries, and ██ captured.
The remaining members of Authority Security proposed a counter-attack augmented by MST to attempt to recover or determine the whereabouts of the captured personnel. Permission was granted. The team assembled from a mixture of Authority security forces and MST relief forces faced intermittent ambushes and token resistance as they ventured into Shaft 6. Despite pushing as far as oxygen supplies allowed into the spatial anomaly nothing was encountered or recovered except a number of Authority issued SCBA breathing apparatuses corresponding to the number of personnel who were captured. These were reported by all members of the joint force as being arrayed in a ritualistic manner along the tunnel walls. Following these events, security measures were revised and the updated measures implemented.
For their outstanding actions in withstanding the initial assault alone and their initiative in pressing the attack in an attempt to recover lost personnel all surviving members of the ASF unit involved were awarded orders of merit and significant financial compensation. Surviving members of the MST Joint Relief Force were additionally given financial incentives for their crucial swift response in preventing the breach from succeeding.
END REPORT
Exploration of RPC-997-1 beyond the “point of no return” was conducted by an MST group led by Captain Joseph R. ██████████ who planned and led the expedition. A specially constructed vehicle designated “Tunnel Sweeper” was commissioned consisting of a tracked mobile gun platform designed to travel within the tunnel. The vehicle was equipped with a large frontal ballistic shield, a large oxygen reserve for 6 men, powerful floodlights, and a pair of modified forward facing MK.19 grenade machineguns. In lieu of 40mm high explosives, specially constructed ammunition of 40mm buckshot alternating every other round in the link with flechette loads were issued. Captain Joseph R. ██████████ led his team 3500 meters into the anomaly before hostile enemy action drove them back.
During the course of this expedition, it was discovered that the walls of shaft 6 were lined with instances of RPC-997-2 lying within alcoves carved into the rock of the shaft walls. Upon closer inspection instances of RPC-997-2 were discovered to be in a dormant state. The team utilized the opportunity to conduct a field expedient vivisection of an instance of RPC-997-2.
It was discovered that the instances of RPC-997-2 had fused with the material of their poorly constructed respirators and protective suits with said respirator masks being riveted to the individual’s skull. Within the abdominal cavity RPC-997-2 instances possessed no digestive, respiratory, or circulatory organs having instead had such organs replaced by seemingly primitive anomalously functioning machinery that was in a poor state of repair. Lungs were replaced by a crudely riveted cast iron pressure tank containing concentrated quantities of the same toxic atmosphere within the tunnel.
In lieu of a heart, a bellows style pump constructed of leather and copper circulating a viscous orange substance was recorded. This substance was comprised of high concentrations of lead, arsenic, tin and iron oxide. The digestive tract was removed completely and systems of rubberized canvas hoses were coiled within the lower abdomen. One of these rubberized canvas hoses routed through the spine and out of the specimens back in between the shoulder blades.
While observing instances of RPC-997-2 in dormancy, it was noted that these hoses connect to the machinery within the walls of the tunnel and contained an unknown black substance of a not entirely understood composition. Examination utilizing a portable spectrometer detected high concentrations of mercury, antimony, and cadmium. Samples of this fluid degrade rapidly once removed from the “digestive tract” of RPC-997-2 precluding retrieval and more intensive study.
At 3500 meters from the departure point, the narrow shaft opened into a large circular chamber. The chamber was estimated to be approximately 400 meters in diameter and 40 meters in height. The ceiling was supported by large rusted wrought iron pillars arrayed in a circular fashion around a large central mass of the rusted and seemingly purposeless machinery typically found within the tunnels of RPC-997-1. The machinery was in full operation and emitted a periodic booming sound. Severely desiccated corpses had been crucified to these iron pillars by means of large rivets.
These corpses all had been flayed and showed evidence of crude surgery. Many of the crucified victims had an eclectic mixture of the mechanical organ analogs found in the vivisection of the dormant RPC-997-2 specimen grafted into their body cavities. It appears as if RPC-997-2 may be attempting to utilize the remains of captives to experiment in integrating outsiders with their anomalous machinery.
Active instances of RPC-997-2 then attacked the team while they were gathering biological samples from the crucified remains. Faced with a vast numerical disadvantage and fearing that dormant instances of RPC-997-2 along the path of egress may become active Captain Joseph R. ██████████ ordered the tunnel collapsed to cover a swift retreat.
Based on regular dimensions and placement of the dormancy alcoves it is estimated that at least 6,000 instances of RPC-997-2 exist within the anomaly. In all probability, many more are present beyond the circular chamber. Genetic testing of samples taken from the crucifixion victims showed that some correlated with the staff members who had been captured in incident 997 a few months prior, but half of the samples taken did not correlate to any staff or missing persons reports. The implication that not all of these corpses were taken from the attempted breach implies that there are other entrances to the anomaly that as of yet have not been detected.
The expedition was deemed successful but remains highly classified. Based on the expedition’s findings it is self-evident that new more robust containment measures are required. Initial plans concerning detection and containment of alternate entrances or possible neutralization of the anomaly all together are now priority projects.
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The doors to the elevator opened and I stepped out into the lobby. I kind of wanted to stop at a vending machine, but if I stopped to do so I'd be late, and probably get yelled at. I work a dead end job down in the verification department; nobody cares. Calling it a department is a bit of a stretch; its just a dozen of us down there. You see, people act like the Authority's always leaping into action to go capture a homicidal five year old with laser vision, or do battle with some cosmic horror and force it to go put its nose in the universe's time-out corner dimension or something.
What they don't get is that for almost every hot intel report, lead, or hit off the internet that leads to something, there are ten thousand that don't. So that means they have a Verification Department, which is to say twelve people who sort out every new lead into the trash pile, the maybe pile, and the follow-up pile. Most of it's trash. Somehow I got a job here, at this incredible place that does unbelievably heroic things against the forces of chaos and darkness. Then managed to land my ass in what's possibly the most boring, pointless, unappreciated position possible.
That's okay though, I'm okay with that. I really am. I'm kind of fat, only maybe of average intelligence, maybe could be good looking if I lost some weight, which I plan to. Or, at least, that's what I've been telling myself every time I devour something ordered for delivery with extra cheese and a quadruple order of processed meat in order to make myself feel better. Point is, I'm not really what you'd consider to be gifted in much of any way. Not morbidly obese, not fit, not smart, not stupid, not lazy, but not ambitious either. I'm just content to make my sixty grand a year, run down the bulk of my life punching a clock as some office drone, and maybe retire someday so I can play all the MMORPGs that a 24 hour day can hold and not have to work anymore.
"Hi Dave! How are ya?" a perky voice to my right called out.
Jenny. Okay, I lied a little bit, I used to be perfectly content with my go nowhere, do nothing lifestyle. Then they hired Jenny and I got to feeling lonely. Jenny was just a sunny, happy, nice lady (who also had tits that were as perky as her positive attitude)- I mean, uhhh, a stunning smile. Yes. That's what I stared at in rapt captivation every time she leaned across my desk to dump off the next round of incoming leads for me to sort.
"Um, uh, good I guess" I mumbled as I tried to avoid eye contact and shuffle into my cubicle. I sighed and began work for the day.
The usual pipeline of pure, unadulterated bullshit that seemed connected to my desk had no shut-off valve. A redneck from Florida who claimed a voodoo-priest in the Everglades cast a spell on him that forced him to be sexually attracted to pigs. Trash. A clearly schizophrenic woman who believed that a subterranean race of mole people were stealing her chickens. Trash. A man who claimed to be the lovechild produced when Bill Clinton traveled back in time to have a three-way with Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe. I filed that in the "maybe" pile just to fuck with the guys who actually investigate this shit. I sighed, this shit was so boring. I closed the window and logged in to a site I like to visit to do some reading on my phone.
The hose beast wrapped its filthy, ichor dripping tentacles around the woman's heaving bosom, she squealed in terror as the soldier raised his rifle. Or was it pleasure? "WAIT!" declared Captain Max Steele as he grabbed the soldier's rifle barrel and shoved it down. "Bullets can't stop the Hose Beast, BUT I CAN!" He drew his combat knife and lunged forward to do battle with the monster. As he slashed away one of the hell-spawn's groping tentacles the woman's blouse button broke exposing her ample breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra…
The guy in the cubicle next to me backed away from his computer abruptly. His chair hit the partition, jarring my computer monitor and knocking my pencil holder over. Okay. So sometimes I read tentacle monster fan fiction on my phone at work. But only for the story. I hastily exited the smut-page's window to hide my sin.
"Hey, what's up man? I'm trying to work here!"
There was no answer. I stood up, and looked over the partition. Dale stared back at me, eyes wide. Probably because his hand was in his mouth. He bit down hard enough for me to hear bone crunch, and muttered around the bloody mess "af serph mumf buh korompf"
I blinked twice. "Wh-what?" was all I could stammer.
What the actual fuck was I looking at? He removed his hand from his mouth, and two fingers tumbled out into his lap. "I serve none but Sarkoth!" He said cheerfully, then plucked up one of the severed digits, popped it into his mouth, and began chewing. Blood spurted from his mangled hand. Somewhere across the office I heard somebody shriek: "HAIL DISCORDIA!", there was a crash. I looked over to see Tim, who was wearing no pants, beginning to attempt to make frenzied love to the coffee machine.
I've got no fight or flight reflex. Once in high school the jocks decided to beat the shit out of me. I didn't just not fight back, I took every single hit until I was curled up in a fetal position. All the while repeating the mantra in my head: "this isn't happening, this isn't happening." I don't fight, or run (I don't think I've even ran 50 feet since high school gym class). I just go into shock and gawk like an idiot. Kind of like I'm doing right now.
The office was a sea of chaos. People were laughing, shrieking, somebody sprinted by screaming "PRAISE SARKOTH, HAIL DISCORDIA!" while stabbing themselves in the face with a letter opener. Somebody else was throwing papers in the air wildly giggling and repeating in a winded, breathless voice: "We won't need pants where we're going!", over and over again.
Something flew at me from the corner of my vision and tackled me to the floor. That something was soft, and curvy, and smelled kind of like women's shampoo. "Jenny?" I gasped, the wind knocked out of me. "SHHHH" she hissed with a finger to her lips, "something happened, everybody just went fucking nuts!" she whispered harshly. I was still trying to get my mind off the fact that her boobs were pressing into my arm as we lay on the floor of my cubicle. I hoped I didn't get a boner, that would be embarrassing. Is that a funny thing to be worried about when you just saw a guy fucking a coffee machine? I hoped I wasn't going crazy too.
Somebody screamed "OUR MASTER BIDS US TO JOIN HIM IN HOLY MATRIMONY!" I heard the paper shredder start up, then something wet and meaty get shoved into it. I could still hear Dale eating his fingers next door. Glass shattered. I still just sat there, slackjawed like a moron. Jenny shook me a few times, whispered: "God fucking damn it", then shoved me under the desk, where I curled into a fetal position. Jenny crawled in next to me, knees tucked up under her chin.
The chaos and madness in the office continued, we huddled under my desk. A pair of feet clad in brown loafers slowly, casually wandered into view. There was a crunch, loud chewing. Blood pitter-pattered onto the floor in little splattered droplets. The feet stopped. Dale was paying us a visit. He knelt down on his hands and knees (well, part of one, the other was just a stump) to peer at us under the desk. Jenny was hyperventilating, I was just staring in that same, stupid, slack jawed shock that got my ass beat at least a dozen times in school with zero resistance ever offered.
The thing that used to be Dale cracked a slow, mischievous grin that had bits of finger nail, skin, and bone lodged in it, his teeth were cracked and chipped. "Sarkoth is my master, he demands you witness his glory!" Dale rasped out in a giddy, hysterical whisper. He rocked back into a sitting position, staring right at us, and began to finish eating his remaining hand. But that wasn't the horrifying part.
The horrifying part were his eyes. Despite his manic grin, you could see that a normal person named Dale was still in there. A terrified person in agony. They weren't the eyes of a crazed, senseless psycho cannibalizing themselves, they were the eyes of somebody being forced to mutilate their own body. To feel, and endure the horror of being locked out of their own motor controls, a puppet for some gibbering, stupid, hateful abomination's amusement.
Jenny began sobbing. That's what broke the spell. I'm a slightly fat, nerdy loser who reads hentai fan-fiction at work. There wasn't anything I could do about any of this, but damn it, Jenny's crying brought a slow, simmering anger oozing up like hot tar through my brain. She's a nice lady, she doesn't need to see this shit. I put my arm around her back, and pressed her face into my shoulder. For the first time in my life I stood up for myself.
"I don't know who or what the fuck you are, but that's enough of your bullshit. Fuck off."
Then, whatever it was that had possessed Dale, giggled and tried to clap. Without hands it was a bloody, flopping, pathetic display of childish glee. Dale staggered to his feet, then began shuffling away, still chewing. Jenny continued crying on me, but we stayed put. The screams became more hoarse, louder, and the destruction in the office continued at a frenzied pace. We stayed put, me staring forward grimly, Jenny weeping.
Booted feet were approaching echoing down the hall outside, lots of them. The door burst open. Gunshots, giggling, screaming, bellowed orders. It was quiet. The ASF had arrived. A man in black fatigues with lots of pockets came around the corner, crouched low, back straight. His rifle was raised, and he was strolling in that deceptivley goofy looking heel-toe-heel gait that guys who know how to handle their weapons in close combat use. "YOU. UNDER THE DESK. COME OUT. SLOWLY."
We did, on shaking hands and knees. Jenny wasn't crying anymore, just sniffling and hyperventilating in hitching breaths. She looked like a kid telling her mommy that she'd skinned her knee. The ASF goon's gun carefully tracked both of us.
"Okay, I'm only going to ask once, if you say any of that Lovecraftian bullshit you get 'yer head ventilated. What year is it, who is the President, and where do you work?"
"2018, Trump, The Authority." I answered coldly; Jenny just kept sniffling.
"Alright, 'yer good, now let's hear it from the lady."
I stood up, grabbed his gun barrel, lowered it slowly while staring him coldly in the eyes. "Her name is Jenny, and she's seen enough bullshit today, leave her alone." I tried to use my most macho growl. I was promptly rewarded for my heroics with the briefest realisation that a tactical gloved fist was flying at my face before my head rocked back on my shoulders and I staggered backwards. The bastard had just punched me! Seeing stars I was distantly aware of somebody screaming at me to never attempt to grab an ASF staff member's weapon again. Somehow keeping my feet I shook my head and spit out a tooth.
"Then keep it outta my face bitch." The words had left my mouth almost on their own.
I'm new at this not being a pussy thing, I had no idea if it would work or just get me punched again. The ASF guy, glared, then grinned and chuckled: "Okay there Liam Neelson, she is clearly not zonked out anyways. HEY, SARGE, MORE SURVIVORS OVER HERE!" Another man clad in black tactical gear gave a thumbs up, then went back to stomping one of my possessed coworkers to death. He was a very large black man, and his face had the sleepy eyed grin of somebody who is very good at dealing violence, and loving every minute of dishing it out. His victim, a woman formerly known as Carol, was giggling shrilly as the bones in her face, and then skull crumbled under the repeated application of a large combat boot.
I could see Dale's legs sticking out of a nearby doorway in a pool of blood. I felt nothing except a distant relief that he wasn't being forced to eat himself anymore. I tore my eyes away to look back to the ASF guard who was avidly watching his compatriot go to town on carol. I hoped I hadn't just earned myself a boot party of my own.
"What… what happened?" I croaked. He shrugged.
"Uh, well, we don't really know, but it seems like maybe some cognito shit got into the central email server. Anybody looking at their computer on this floor got their brains flash fried. Then I punched you right in the goddamned mouth for being a fucking dumbass" The guy sounded exhausted and a bit irritated. Like they deal with this kind of bullshit twice a day before lunch. He stooped and picked something up off the floor "heh. Heheh. Is this yours?" It was a tooth.
I nodded. Jenny was leaning on me now. He casually dropped it into my shirt pocket as Jenny began talking.
"I was making copies when everybody in here just went nuts. I looked over and saw Dave standing up, and…" She started crying again.
Good thing nobody ever needed to know why I wasn't looking at my emails. I reached over, grabbed my coat from my desk, and put it over her shoulders.
"Anyways." The ASF guard continued. "It's a facility lockdown, you two stay here, we're going to mark your location and continue sweeping the building. When we come back you will be escorted to quarantine. Stay down, don't wander off, don't get in the way of ASF unless you want to swallow a few more teeth, we will come get you." He trotted away over to where his squad were forming up to assault the next set of offices.
"Sarge" was grinning and leaving a trail of bloody boot prints behind him as he led the pack. They lined up on either side of the door, one kicked it in, they all entered the next part of the complex. Loud crashing, manic glee, and shouted exultations to Sarkoth filtered through.
We both slumped down the wall, side by side, overlooking the main office area.
"So, uhh, you wanna get coffee?" I asked.
We both looked over at the now thoroughly defiled coffee vending machine. Tim's nude corpse was still draped over it in a very compromising position. Jenny stared for a moment, then looked back at me jaw agape.
"Sorry that was a bad idea." I sighed.
Gunfire started up in the next room drowning out the sounds of the office blood orgy unfolding within. We sat numbly in the awkwardness that only can follow a failed pickup line. Maybe I had quit being a pussy, but I'm still going to die alone.
Per 
