Ghost Trader ($GTR) is the world’s first tokenized crypto hedge fund on the BSC - Stealth Launch

2022.01.17 03:48 MoorthTsatch Ghost Trader ($GTR) is the world’s first tokenized crypto hedge fund on the BSC - Stealth Launch

Ghost Trader: A professionally managed and tokenized community driven Hedge Fund ran by specialists with over 30 years of experience and proven performance. $GTR gives you sustainable returns, dividends, and token price appreciation; while rewarding holders with 50% of trading profits during the lifetime of their $GTR holdings, including all future purchases. A project unlike anything anybody has ever seen in this or any other space! ⭐️ Real Utility Token! 🚀 Innovative concept! 🌐. ❇️$500K collected from private sale contributors (without any marketing and in just a couple of weeks!) ❇️Token Supply: 100 million tokens ❇️Presale Hard cap: 800 BNB filled ❇️Starting Market cap of around $1.5 Million ❇️Outstandingly detailed and thorough Whitepaper out. ❇️Biweekly reward payouts in BUSD for $GTR Holders. ❇️100% transparent team with daily AMA´s to ask them anything you wish to know. ❇️Contributors will be able to buy tokens directly from the website. ❇️Regular giveaways worth $500 in contribution for the most active community members ❇️1st Ghost Trader official NFT as a reward for a lucky community member shortly ❇️Ghost Trader app and audited VIP members area coming soon. ❇️Ghost Trader official debit card release being finalized. Contract: 0x3BaC0D0e5204696ADeB62Bf985cB17C2712eBCec 🥞 PancakeSwap (V2) : 👍🏽 Ownership Renounced : 🔒 Liquidity locked :
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2022.01.17 03:48 Virtual_Shifter Another hallway

Another hallway submitted by Virtual_Shifter to LiminalSpace [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Zealousideal-End-674 Time to creat a Node

Ive just created my first Node. Its been about 10 mins and has not appeared yet? How long does it take please
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2022.01.17 03:48 Ighavesolong 🏳️‍🌈 Fierce new token | The Queens Coins ($TQC)| Microcap | White Paper | Fees support LGBTQ+ charities | Upcoming Techrate audit | Multiple Utilities confirmed | NFTs

Welcome to The Queens Coins, a lgbtq+ charity driven utility token.
Contract : 0x50a42cb0cd6b11bc5bd0ba9460f58a361da793e4
🏳️‍🌈 The Queens Coins main utility will be its intervention within Metaverse alongside being a payment method on popular Drag Queen websites. The the team is focused on growing their community before a huge event that will debut their ecosystem and community.
100 year liquidity lock
95% Burned at launch
Renounced ownership
Upcoming Techrate AUDIT
Supports LGBTQ+ charities & foundations
1% Reflections
3% Liquidity Pool
4% Marketing
2% Charity
If you're still not convinced and have any questions, join us on Telegram and we’ll be happy to answer all your questions!
🌐 Website
🐦 Twitter https://twitteTheQueensCoins
🗣 Telegram
🧭 Explorer
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2022.01.17 03:48 dissociationreddit The Man In Between The Walls

Have any of you had sleep paralysis? That in between stage where you’re not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You can’t move, you can hallucinate, and you’ll often have feelings of dread. I’ve suffered from it since I was a kid, probably about eight years old or so. The doctors told my parents I may grow out of it, a lot of kids do eventually. I’m looking for answers and about what happened to me as a kid and its because of the man in between the walls and sleep paralysis

I know I suffered from sleep paralysis before this event, but the first time I can actually remember is when I first met **him**. I woke up in a cold sweat, my limbs are locked into place, no matter how hard I try I can’t make a sound, then comes the feelings of terror – of **knowing** something is there watching me. The dread raises up, almost seeming to start at my feet, and I feel it slowly overtake my whole body. I want nothing more than to scream, to cry, to end this experience, I was sure I would die.

And then I see a movement from a shadowed wall across from my bed. The best way I can describe what he did is he was standing against the wall, but standing on his hands with his face facing the wall, legs straight up in the air, he brought his legs down in a forward motion. He landed with his legs on the ground putting him in position reverse of a spider, back pointed to the ground head facing up, and started to crawl to the bed. He stopped right next to me and then brought his head up putting him in a normal standing position, he proceeded to crawl into bed with me. He cradled me like a baby, putting his cheek against my face and rubbing the other cheek with his hand.

“Don’t worry David, I won’t leave you. You’re mine, all mine,” he said, I could smell his breath, and it was rotten. It smelled like how road kill did when it was several days old. With that he rolled out of my bed and onto the floor landing on all fours, this time more like a dog, and scurried to the wall he came from. As quickly as he had come, he seemed to flatten into a man shaped shadow and slipped under the wall. The second he was gone I was released from my torture, I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Even though you can hallucinate during sleep paralysis my parents took me very seriously, they did not want to take a chance with a potential killer or abductor being able to get into our house. So the police were called, but were not of much help. When they found out about my condition they pretty much wrote off the entire story. Nevertheless, my parents decided to install bars on my windows. They were nice, sturdy, thick bars that reminded me of jail cells I had seen on TV. They made me feel safe.

Some time passed, much of this is blurry to me like any memories from 20 years ago would be, but the next incident… I remember that like it was yesterday. I woke up to the normal feelings of being wrapped up by an invisible blanket that was wound so tight I could barely breath. And then the feelings of dread came, and with them came the man in between the walls. I saw the shadow, it came out from underneath the wall touching the roof this time. The shadow popped out raggedly, first I see flat arms inflate, next his legs pop out like balloons, his abdomen, and finally his head. He crawled along the ceiling like a spider until he reached me, he dropped his feet first but as the rest of his body followed in bent in a weird unnatural way so he could mold his body to mine as he dropped, ultimately holding me in that cradling position again.

This time he traced my lips with one finger and said, “David, David, did you think bars could keep me from you?! You’re mine and your parents know it. They just won’t tell you, ask them David. Ask them about Jenny.”

And with that he slithered out of my bed, body moving unnaturally again as he made his way like a snake to my wall, were he flattened out and went under again. The second he was gone I let out an ear shattering scream.

My parents held me as I cried insisting the cops would be called the next day. But then I asked,”Who’s...” my voice wavered as I took a second to draw the energy needed, “who’s Jenny?” And with the mentioning of that name I swear my parents went bone white. After several moments looking at each other with a frightened look on both faces they insisted, “We don’t know a Jenny son,” my dad says with a slight quiver to his voice.

Months pass again, I know during this time is when I started referring to him as the man in between the walls, though only in my head as I refused to acknowledge his existence out loud. I wanted to ask my parents about Jenny again, I knew there was something more there from their reactions, but could never build up the courage to.

Months after the last incident would be the last time I see the man in between the walls for several years. I woke up unable to move and I knew what was to come, and as the dread filled me I saw him. This time the shadows seem to ooze form the ceiling, going down the wall like water would. They mix together on the floor and the shape of a man rises out of it. He’s facing away from me but then does something to intensify my fear ten fold, his head slowly turns to face me while the rest of his body faced the wall. With his head turned unnaturally back to watch me he walks to the bed backwards. He slides in from the foot of the bed, more like a liquid than anything else, and cradles me again.

“You know,” he says as that rotten smell over whelms me, “you know they are lying. They promised you to me years ago and I intend to collect.” He strokes my face several times before seeming to turn to liquid again and running down out of my bed. I see the fluid shadow liquid make it’s way across my room and back under my wall. An ear piercing scream sounds throughout the house.

After the normal routine of calling the cops, again to no consequence since the cops were convinced I was just a kid seeing things, my parents put me back to bed checking all throughout my room to make sure no one was there. I could never fall asleep the nights I had sleep paralysis and that night I saw a soft glow from my window. I crept to the window to check it out, I see my parents in the backyard burning something.

Eight years pass without incident, and although I could recall the nights with the man in between the walls with perfect clarity, I had chosen to try and never think of them again. I buried them as deep in my mind as I could, but I could never have guessed I wasn’t done with him yet.

I can recall this night with perfect clarity too, much clearer than other memories from when I was sixteen. I woke up unable to move, memories of him flooded back, the dread came. This time I saw my wall be ripped wide open, the house seemed to be collapsing as the wall tore apart and slowly opened. I wondered how my parents weren’t running into the room to come to my aid. A huge shadow snake slithered out, bigger than any snake alive today, it curled up at the foot of my bed before slithering under the covers. It wrapped around me like it was going to crush and then consume me, then the shadow seemed to become less defined, like a cloud, when it reshaped it was him and he was cradling me.

“Your parents, they don’t want to pay up. They tried to cut the connection, but I can’t have that. I found my way back to you because you’re mine! What was promised with blood can never be undone.” As he finished he became the shadow cloud again, then the snake, the snakes head forced it’s way into my mouth, then it slowly brought it’s entire body inside me and with one last breath I black out.

I woke up in a hospital bed, parents at my side. The first and last thing to come out of my mouth was, “Who’s Jenny?”

I wake up again, this time with a much clearer head, the first thing I notice is my parents aren’t there this time. There’s a call button next to me and I press it. A couple nurses come running in and yelling, they check over the machines connected to me as my parents were called.

I was discharged a week later.

I have never seen the man in between the walls again, and I never found out who Jenny was. I haven’t experienced sleep paralysis since then either. I’ve done a lot of research though, and met with a lot of shady groups. I think my parents were part of a cult and promised me to some entity, maybe during some type of ritual. I’m constantly searching for answers, but one thing I know for sure is even though I haven’t seen the man in between the walls since, he lives inside of me. I can feel him, I can feel that rotten breath sometimes deep down. In my soul.

Last time I told the story of how I met the man in between the walls, this time I’d like to share some of what I’ve found in the decade since then.

When I was eight and everything happened I wanted nothing more than to forget it all, push it to the furthest corners of my mind and pretend it never happened. After the man in between the walls became a part of me I now wanted nothing more than to rid myself of him, I could feel him in there. Its the weirdest thing, I can feel him breath. It fills my lungs, the smell invades my nostrils – the smell of rot, of death.

Starting my search I knew I had only one thing to go on, “Jenny”. The name the man in between the walls said, the name my parents seemed so afraid of. I decided not to ask them about the name again though, I didn’t want them to guess I was prying into things they obviously wanted to be buried. I started with the only thing I could think of, I checked our backyard where I had seen them burning something in the middle of night all those years ago.

I had never really noticed before, but where I was sure they had the fire that night, the grass was dead. It was just a perfect circle of yellow-brown grass, the same height as the rest of the grass implying it still grew as it had been mowed. I dug around with my hands for a bit, pulling up clumps of grass, but the soil underneath seemed normal enough. I pulled out a small bag I had brought out and stuffed some of the dead grass inside.

This would be the first of many odd things I’d find on my journey to the truth, the next day the grass had grown back to be level with the rest. It was still a dead yellow-brown color. I checked my bag and upon opening it I recognized the putrid smell, it was the same smell as the breath from the man in between the walls. Gagging I closed up the bag and hid it away in one of my dresser drawers.

My next step was breaking into my parents room one day after school while they both were at work to look through their things. At first glance I couldn’t say I had found much, that was until I noticed a hidden compartment in their closet. It was so well integrated you almost couldn’t tell there was something off about it. Feeling along the wall though I felt the smallest of indents, pushing on it a door opened up to a small space of probably around two square feet. Inside was a ragged looking doll that was extremely dirty, it had blonde hair that was so scarce I could barely determine what color it was. It had one black marble eye, and one blue one, the mouth was nothing but five small stitches forming something along the lines of “xxxxx” for the mouth.

Next I found my first major clue to confirm my occult suspicions, an old photo. It depicted around a dozen people with plague doctor masks on standing around a fire. In the fire was an upside down wooden cross, tied around the top of it was a small girl of probably around fourteen. On the back of the photo was written one word, “MORSA”, which I later learned is Portuguese for “Walrus”. I did my best to put both items back exactly as I found them.

I didn’t really look much more into things for several years, mainly due to lack of any idea of what to be looking for. I tore my house apart only to not find anything else.

Entering college I felt like the odd one out, after the incident three years earlier I became dark. I kind of started running with the metal heads and goth crowd, dressed in black and frequented Hot Topic, all that good stuff. The nice thing about college though is as long as you have a group to belong to - you’ll end up finding your people. And so I did, but it quickly became obvious they were much more extreme than the people I knew back in high school. Sex and drugs were now a major theme, it felt like I couldn’t hang out with anyone without some MDMA or meth being pulled out. It was at one of these parties that I met *her*.

Amanda was her name and we quickly fell for each other, soon “group hangouts” became “us hangouts” and many became two. We still rolled a lot, but much less frequently. I had known her maybe a couple months when one day I randomly said “Morsa,” without having much of a clue as to why besides the fact I had just smoked some weed. Amanda froze up for a second.

“What’s wrong,” I ask her inquisitively.

“Why ‘Morsa’?” She asks me.

I give a non committal nod, “I dunno, why not Morsa?”

I no longer remember how we got onto the subject of my parents but soon I’m telling her how I think my parents were involved with the occult. I left out everything about the man in between the walls and instead made it sound like I stumbled upon the doll and photo by accident.

I didn’t see Amanda for several weeks after that and I became worried I had freaked her out, so I reached out to her.

When she answered her phone I went on and on about how sorry I was if I freaked her out, after I was all done she only had one thing to say, “Would you like to know more about Morsa?”

We met up at the school’s library, she looked so tired.

“No offense but you look like crap,” I remember saying.

“I hadn’t heard that word in years, when you said it it brought all these… Memories and feelings back. Memories I thought I had left behind long ago.”

Now sitting in our own little corner of the library she tells me, “When I was young we lived on a farm, my parents were very reclusive and I had learned to make the most out of the situation. I didn’t really know there was anything odd about them until I started school. I learned my parents didn’t act like the other kid’s parents did, other kid’s parents didn’t dress up in odd costumes and meet out back in the potato fields, other kids parents didn’t have huge fires once a month where you could smell the stench of burning flesh.”

She continued, “I was twelve when they took me away, it was a huge scandal that the town covered up. Kids, missing from all over the state, where found under our fields. But this… thing my parents were a part of went high up, we’re talking way up federal level high. Or at least that’s what I figured when not a word of it got out. I remember when the investigator met with me, he told me to forget what happened if I knew what was best for me, he told me to never talk about ‘Morsa’.”

She didn’t have much more to add about that, she never really knew what exactly went on during the meetings and her parents never had talked about it around her.

Amanda stopped attending class all together, I went on to date other girls and make new friends. I hear she eventually completely sobered up and is married now.

After the Amanda saga of my life I dropped out of university to work and attend community college instead. I worked at an old thrift store, I chose this store to work at because they dealt in a lot of old historical merchandise. A couple years passed with little incident, but shortly after I turned twenty one someone came in to donate much of their recently deceased grandma’s old possessions. The object of interest was an old journal with the word “morsa” written inside the front cover. I took the old book home instead of putting it in the back to be sorted and sold.

The book contained what seemed to be odd rituals with no explanation of what they did, some drawings of what I’d guess to be demons, but most importantly an old address. Hoping onto Google I found out it was about two hours from where I lived, so I planned a road trip for the weekend.

I arrived at the address to find a broken down old home, I noted it seemed to be abandoned as I checked around the yard and looked through the windows. All the doors seemed to be dead bolted shut so I broke a window to get in. Lots of cob webs and some old dusty furniture greeted me as I looked around.

I descended down some stairs which led to an equally decrepit basement. After a good hour looking around the house and then basement I found an old photo album with an inch thick layer of dust on it. My stomach dropped, inside was page after page, photo after photo, of people dressed in plague doctor masks. They stood around giant fires, inside dining rooms with feasts laid out before them, and most disturbingly in front of what looked like a mass grave of dozens of bodies being buried.

I took the photo album to the police and told them the address I found it at, they told me they’d look into it. This may have been the biggest mistake of my life, soon I noticed every night there was an unmarked black car outside my apartment complex. It had never been there before this, and was never there during the day when I was out but would show up shortly after I got home. Just a few days later I found a note taped to my apartment door as I got home, opening it up it said “if you’re smart you’ll forget about Morsa”.

I hadn’t thought of Amanda in a long time but her words were coming back to me, “there was a cover up, I think it may have gone up to a federal level.” I shook my head, how could anyone tied to any of this know I had given that album and address to the cops?

I started to become paranoid, always looking behind my back expecting to see the boogeyman. I quit my job at the thrift store shortly after this and dropped out of community college. The more paranoid I became the more I could feel the man between the walls inside me. I had learned to repress and ignore his breath, but now it was back stronger than ever. I could feel him using my paranoia to eat away at my soul. I descended further into madness.

The next few months after this are a hazy blur of psychosis and alcohol. Nothing becomes clear until I woke up in a psychiatric hospital one day. Apparently I had been here weeks already, I was brought in by the cops when I stopped an old lady walking home to ramble and yell at her about “his breath” which she naturally called the police about. I’m sure they were all too happy to drop me off here.

I spent the next several weeks having medications changed and adjusted and attending groups and therapy. I stopped trying to tell them I wasn’t crazy at a point, their minds were already made up from my previous weeks of acting like a lunatic.

The medications did something amazing though, I couldn’t feel the man in between the walls anymore. The next time I saw my doctor he informed me I had “schizoaffective” disorder. He told me I’d have psychosis, paranoia, and delusions mixed in with bouts of depression or mania.

After several more weeks I was finally discharged, when I returned home I found it ransacked. Someone had broken in and tore my apartment apart, of course nothing was missing since I didn’t have anything linked to morsa. The only thing in my possession had been the old photo album. I shook my head as I started cleaning up, yeah doc tell me I’m paranoid now. I noticed the black car didn’t show up anymore, I’m sure time in a psych ward and a diagnosis along with ran sacking my apartment so they saw I had nothing to link to morsa had helped calm their fears.

Soon I moved to a town just twenty minutes from the house I found the album in. I wouldn’t let them bully or scare me, I was determined to find out about my parent’s past, and Jenny. Of course at this time I didn’t know there were no definitive answers to find, that I was committing to a life time of questions with no answers.

The first thing I did in my new apartment was install hidden webcams connected to laptop that I was using as a server. I had a three terabyte hard drive connected up to it that would over write the oldest footage with new footage when it was filled up. I also got a dog, the sweetest pit bull you’d ever meet, but she was big and scary looking which I hoped would help make any home invaders think twice before trying to snoop around.

I got a new job, working at a Pizza Hut delivering pizzas and I started at a new community college. There was no way I was going to let these people ruin my future too.

Shortly after uprooting my life and moving to be closer to the house where I found the photo album a man who went by the name John contacted me. Apparently he use to work for the police department that I delivered the photo album too. We arranged for me to meet him, though he insisted that I didn’t tell a soul about the meet up.

It was a cold winters day when I arrived at the Barnes and Noble, he wasn’t hard to spot. He had the look of a man who had seen things, old and rugged with eyes that told you the man had long since given up on the innocence of mankind. I ordered a coffee from the small coffee shop inside and sat down next to him.

“Weren’t followed were ya?” He asked me.

“Probably wouldn’t know if I had been,” I replied simply. He nodded.

“Honest, I can respect that,” he continued, “an old colleague of mine told me about the photo album you turned in, damn stupid of you.” He said this with no sarcasm or irony, it was a simply statement. He knew I was a kid who simply hadn’t known better, but probably should of. “You riled up some powerful people, people who’d kill you, or me, in a heart beat to keep their secrets. Only reason you’re still alive is they didn’t deem you much of a threat, if someone isn’t a threat it draws less attention to just let them be than to make them disappear and orchestrate a cover up. You’re a damn lucky kid I tell ya.”

I simply nod, he was right. “So,” I start, “what did you have me meet you here to tell me?” My question is simple and straight to the point.

“Don’t stop looking,” his eyes seem to shift out of focus like he’s remembering something that happened long ago.

He continues with that same spaced out look, “Not many officers left who remember Morsa, most are old and retired like me. Probably a hair smarter though seeing they’re not here talking to you, but I can’t pass on without making sure there’s someone left to dig up the dirt. It was a scandal bigger than any before it, of such large proportion it makes Watergate look like kid stuff. The powers that be probably had to use every ounce of influence they had to make sure the public never get a breath of information about it. Many good officers that didn’t know when to stop looking ended up dead. There was always an excuse of course, random drive by shooting, arrest gone wrong, hit by a drunk driver, you name it.”

His eyes seemed to come back into focus as he peered into mine, “And I tell ya most were damn good men, just couldn’t let something so evil go.”

I stop him, “This is interesting and all but I didn’t come here to hear about this, I want… No, *need*, to know what “Morsa” was.”

He laughed a small laugh, “Don’t be in such a hurry to hear what I know, but if you insist,” he took a deep breathe, “I don’t know much, you won’t get any definitive answers from me, but what I do know is they were a powerful group and not all politicians and business men like you’d think. Plenty of every day unassuming Joe’s must of been in it. I know of the farm were all the bodies were found, I know it spelled the beginning of the end for the group or at least the end of how they existed at the time. Dozens of bodies were found on that farm, I saw some photos. Disgusting shit I tell ya, decapitated children. Men with their privates cut off and drained of all their blood from their neck, if you can name an act that’s sick a depraved it was found. The FBI came a knocking around our town and the old couple that lived in that house disappeared over night and left everything behind. Some old rich suit came up and bought it and left everything as it was.”

He takes a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Seems as soon as they came around they disappeared, the FBI that is, from what I heard the whole case was called off and closed but they couldn’t take away what we learned during that short time they were here. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to garner interest. Of course when all the deaths started anyone with half a brain stopped asking questions and looking around. What I know though is a cult, a huge one spanning the entire country and with hundreds of members, called “Morsa” had performed lots of sacrifices. Sick shit, some of them even gave up their own kids. Weird shit too, lots of demons and spirits, they worshiped some god they called ‘The Elder One Above All’. They also had some weird ass word for it that I could never remember, Arabic or some crap. This town was apparently pretty important to them, I have a feeling if someone dug up the yard of that house you visited a lot more bodies would be added to their kill count.”

He seemed to be finished, “Is that it?” I ask.

He nods, “Its all I know, told ya it wasn’t much, I don’t think anyone outside the cult knows much more than that. But I shared what I know and I have a favor in turn, why are you looking into it? What’s important enough to risk your life?”

I take a deep breath and say, “I think my parents were part of it and I think I was part of some ritual. When I was a kid I experienced night terrors, this demon entity would terrorize me. I think he was planning to take me but then my parents burned something and he went away for years. Then he returned one night and… Became a part of me for lack of a better way to explain it. I think whatever they did made him unable to kill me directly so now he lives in me waiting for my death so he can take my soul. Or at least that’s my best guess. I went snooping around after that and found a doll and old picture of people in plague doctor masks around a fire hidden by my parents and on the back of the picture was the word ‘Morsa’.” I finish trying to hold back tears and keep my resolve up, I don’t think he’d appreciate me crying much.

He takes a moment to soak this in before nodding, “Keep an eye out in the news,” he said sadly before getting up and walking out. Sure enough three days later I recognized his face on the evening news, dead from a supposed stroke.

After the meeting with John my life got busy, between work and school I buried myself trying to put as much mental distance between myself and Morsa as possible. I just needed a break from it, the man in between the walls had started to invade my every waking thought, my every breath. The medications, which I was still taking, kept it from personally intruding, however, they had drawbacks all their own.

This was all until about a year after I met John an, opportunity was dropped into my lap, this girl I had casually started seeing mentioned her grandpa was a shaman of sorts. Self proclaimed, of course, but I wasn’t in a position to question another’s attachment to more fantastical things. I told her I was really into that type of stuff myself and asked if she could setup some type of meeting between us. She was more than happy to oblige, I could tell she took it as me wanting to meet her family and maybe become a bit more serious but I decided to let her think whatever it took to meet the guy.

I sat down across a table from her uncle, who’s name turned out to be Ado. He was probably around 5’9” and you could tell Native American blood ran strong in his veins.

“So, you’re Rachel’s new boyfriend?” Ado asks looking comfortable in his surroundings.

“Yes sir, but honestly I didn’t come here to meet the family. I’m going to be blunt with you, what do you know about demons?” I ask intently.

He studies me as he takes a sip of his drink, “Not gonna lie, that isn’t a very common question. I guess you should start by better defining a ‘demon’”

I go into my story, making sure to carefully phrase everything as to not mention any parts about murders, at the end of it he had a very concerned look on his face.

He starts, “I’ve always had a very liberal view on spirits and magic. I honestly don’t think demons or rituals exist before we make them exist. We give power to these rituals, we create the monsters that lurk among us.”

I take this in for a second, “So you’re telling me if I perform a ritual to rid myself of this demon as long as I really believe in what I’m doing it’ll be gone?”

Ado shakes his head, “Not at all. This ‘Morsa”, they created whatever has taken residence in you (though they wouldn’t realize their beliefs are what actually birthed it) and it more than likely exists within the rules they set for it. This thing could be extremely powerful, or not powerful at all. It could be rid of in two hours, or never. Personally I’d start with your parents, if they took part in all this they may know how to rid you of it.”

I shake my head downheartedly, I had barely talked to my parents since graduating high school, it was their fault I was in any of this mess and I had found it hard to forgive them once I stopped living under their roof. No, I wasn’t going to open a relationship back up with them. Honestly I’d rather die and rot in Hell with the man in between the walls than seek out their help.

“Is there anything you can do to help me, Ado?” he continues to study me as I ask this question.

“I can sense a dark presence within you, I could feel it damper the house as you walked in. No, no I have never dealt in such things. I dabble in some minor protection rituals, periodic cleansings, but nothing that can help what you have,” as he says this I feel like I might cry, and I must have looked it too as he continues after faltering for a second, “I truly am sorry and wish there was more I could do, but to give you any hope would be cruel in ways most people could never understand but I sincerely hope you do.”

Several months pass as I consider opening up more broad communications with my parents again. At the end of the day they may be the only people with any information that may help me. I went for a drive around town one day, to clear my head and think about things, when the next thing I knew I was turning onto the freeway that started the journey to see my parents. I guess subconsciously my brain had decided things for me.

My parents shower me in hugs and kisses which I do my best to ignore while keeping a neutral face as possible.

“Mom, dad, its time you tell me about Jenny,” and with that I explain about seeing the fire that night, of what happened when I was sixteen, of how the man in between the walls lives inside me now. My parents faces looked as white as ghosts.

Completely ignoring the part about Jenny my mom starts, “You have to understand David, we were young and impressionable. Some guy likes all the land we own and shows us some magic, amazes us beyond our wildest dreams, and we were so eager to join. So eager to gain power. We realize now they targeted people like us, young and stupid, with land for them to do whatever on and kids for sacrificing. So much easier to sacrifice someone who’s family will tell everyone they disappeared one day and never put much pressure on anyone to do much searching. Not to mention they had the influence to bury such things as long as no one cared to look too hard. Not all kids got as lucky, or unlucky, as you. Many kids were killed sacrificially, but some were offered as morsels to specific demons. To entities they believed would give them more power in return. The parents who offered up their kids were never allowed to attend these sacrificial meetings, but they told us it would be as easy as last time. Bring us a toy, a toy we’d make sure you played tons with and would grow a bond to, and tell us what your name would be. You’d be offered to the demon to take when he pleased, as long as we made sure you bonded with the toy and kept it protected when you grew out of it. They said if we ever destroyed the toy they’d know, and they’d come for us and trust us they had the power to find us. That’s what we burned that night, we thought it would forever get rid of the demon but it would seem it found a way back to you. We didn’t dare destroy it before then as we believed their threats could still be carried out after everything ended, but in the end we decided saving your soul was worth the risk.”

As my mom cried silent tears and my dad sobbed next to her I ask, “So do you know how to get rid of it?” My mom shakes her head as tears started falling even faster.

“I told you we were never allowed to these rituals, and they never spoke of any of it during other meetings. We thought burning the toy would do the trick...” She cuts herself off obviously not knowing what to say next.

Without a word I get up and leave.

I hope no one came here looking for a happy ending or closure. My soul was sold before I was ever even born, without me ever having a choice in the matter, and I fear I will be tortured for all eternity for the choices my parents made. I hope the man in between the walls will just consume me when the time comes, but I also fear he will torture me for all eternity instead. But alas, I’ve come here tonight to fill everyone in on what has happened in my life since that fateful night with my parents.

After finding out my parents had no answers, no way to set my soul free, I went into a spiral. Drugs and alcohol led me down a dark path where I also stopped taking my medication. Intoxication induced hazes mixed with his breath inside me led to several stays in psychiatric hospitals where I always stopped taking my medications upon leaving. In moments of clarity I wondered if I wanted to feel it inside, to be reminded of what awaited me when I would die, to drive my hate for my parents.

At a bar one night I met a woman who would end up becoming my wife of only two years. She was heavily into the occult and we bonded a level I had never known before. We went on adventures of meeting shady people and telling them my past to see if they could yield any answers, these always ended with no answers. Only once do I think we met someone who genuinely knew anything of what the other side held, but unfortunately a six month stint in jail ended with my wife not knowing where they had went to during that time.

Eventually my wife decided she was done with the drugs and boos and wanted to settle down and get serious and I wasn’t ready for that. I can still remember the day the divorce papers arrived at my shit hole apartment that I couldn’t even afford rent for, it was also the day the eviction noticed arrived. This sent me into the worse spiral of my life where my heart stopped twice in a hospital bed, unfortunately I lived though.

During all this I could feel *it* inside me, I don’t think it wanted me to die yet though. It wanted to see, and feel, me suffer. It got some type of sadistic pleasure from it, and it knew it had me anyway. When I die my soul would it’s to do it’s liking with, so why rush things?

Eventually I met a girl who fell madly for me, but I cared more about the money she’d give me for drugs. She was a good person who didn’t deserve the torment I brought her, who didn’t deserve the man in between the wall’s rotten stench in her life. But I was in a place where I couldn’t care at the time, all that mattered is she was willing to enable my habits to keep me in her life. I think this is the only part of my life I regret now, I caused her more damage than anyone outside my parents deserved. I think I wrecked her mentally and emotionally as she was forced to watch my self destructive ways never able to understand why I did. How could I explain though? How could I make her understand what I was doomed to?

I couldn’t, although I never tried very hard either. Eventually she wised up and left me, left me homeless too. I didn’t care though, sleeping bag in an alley or crappy apartment what did it matter to me as long as I had my vices? And vices I did have, I stole if need be, but I afforded my alcohol and drugs.

Then one day it happened, I woke up passed out in a church. Apparently a pastor passed me as I stumbled down a street drunk and decided to give me a place to stay for the night. I woke up looking at a cross.

“Glad to see you’re up,” said someone sitting next to me reading a bible. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before looking around and seeing a man dressed casually, maybe early forties, sitting next to me.

“An.. you.. are…?” I struggle to get out as I try to get out of the haze I was in.

“Pastor John,” he replies simply. John, all that time ago John suffered the price for helping me just as everyone who ever tried did.

“Pastor,” I begin slowly still trying to wake up, “do you believe in Satan, in demons?”

He studies me carefully, “Well I guess it kinda comes with the job, don’t it?”

I nod my head before starting again, “What about possession?”

“Your head doesn’t seem to be spinning in circles to me, what’s got you worried about possession?”

Now it was my turn to study him for a moment.

“Not movie possession, something else. Something waiting inside you to die so it can claim your soul,” I reply as he finally came into full view, the haziness was gone.

“Well I dunno if I believe in that, but if you do you know there’s someone you can turn to,” he says giving a small nod towards the cross.

“I met a man once,” I start, “a shaman of sorts who told me we make the monsters out there. Demons, skinwalkers, vampires, whatever you can think of. Our belief in them makes them real. I wonder if the same could be true of gods.”

The pastor looks deep in thought before he says, “Would make sense I guess, if you can will the bad into existence, why not the good?”

The pastor helped me find a sober living willing to take me and I sobered up. Been two years since that day and I now hold a job and have a place to live. I’m not sure if I believe we can make gods exist, but I want to believe. I want to believe in a higher power, one who loves me enough to save my soul. I’m not sure if I really do, but I cry at night hoping there is one.
submitted by dissociationreddit to creepypasta [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 LeonneRose I can't figure out for the life of me what I'm supposed to do with these. I have a map mod that calls them spy pengling spots but they can't interact with it what are these??

submitted by LeonneRose to Subnautica_Below_Zero [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 jamboamericano “I win the division in a year? AND win a playoff game? What’s next, you’re going to tell me we draft a wide receiver in the first round? Ha!”

“I win the division in a year? AND win a playoff game? What’s next, you’re going to tell me we draft a wide receiver in the first round? Ha!” submitted by jamboamericano to bengals [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 hobgobbledegook bini vs dahlin

Om to dager starter rettssaken mot Ola Bini.
Hvis du har hørt lite eller ingenting om han så er det helt etter planen.
Ola Bini ble arrestert i Ecuador for snaue 3 år siden og har ventet på en avgjørelse siden da. Rettssaken skulle begynt sommeren 2019, men ingenting skjedde. Dommeren utsatte saken gang på gang, år etter år, helt til nå. 3 års ventetid går laangt over den lovlige grensa, men på merkelig vis er Ola Binis rettigheter som blåst vekk.
De som følger med vet hvorfor, og hvem som står bak. Prosessen har gått i lang tid:

Ferreting out his confederates is [] key.
litt mer formelt:
De som kjenner prosessen best beskriver kreftene bak på denne måten:
Big Brother owns Assanges liberal terrorist arse.
Utrolig hvor enkel verden blir når de snakker fortrolig seg imellom.
De siste 10 årene har vi sett Big Brother sette klørne i mange mennesker, og ødelagt deres liv, verden over, og en av dem er Ola Bini.
Svenske myndigheter og media engasjerer seg ikke, og Amnesty og hordene av liknende NGOer er passive ("vi observerer situasjonen" sa amnesty i en kommentar).
Det overrasker ingen som følger med. Vestlige myndigheter tjener Big Brother over alt annet, også sine egne borgere. Australia er skrekkeksempelet på hvordan de svikter sine egne når det gjelder, men du er ikke tryggere om du er svensk eller brite, eller nordmann. Når Storebror kommer står vi alene.
Det er nyttig og lærerikt å sammenligne Ola Bini med Peter Dahlin, en annen svenske som ble fengslet i utlandet, men Dahlin hadde den spesielle fordelen at han var i Storebrors tjeneste.
I 2007 flyttet Peter Dahlin til Kina, hvor han levde under falsk navn (Mr Breckenridge) og med falske yrkestitler, som blant annet:
Swedish businessman who was in China researching the electric bicycle industry
Dekkhistoriene var nødvendig for å skjule at han var lønnet av NED for å bygge opp et hemmelig politisk nettverk. Prosjektet gikk greit i nesten 10 år før han ble tatt.
Sitater fra Dahlin:
“We’re not a political organisation”
“We don’t deal with democracy issues.”
samtidig som han ble lønnet av National Endowment for Democracy. Han er kanskje ikke skarpeste kniven i skuffen.
NEDs globale agenda er ingen hemmelighet, og heller ikke hvordan de verver sine medarbeidere.
Heldigvis slapp Dahlin med bare 23 dager i fengsel, en brøkdel av Bini, og uendelig mye mildere enn USAs hysteriske kjølhaling av Maria Butina.
De 23 dagene var allikevel nok til at Dahlin ble kåret til en internasjonal superhelt for menneskerettigheter:
Komplett med Amnestys "Urgent Action":
Ikke dårlig for en hemmelig agent på oppdrag for å påvirke styreformen i et annet land.
Peter Dahlin er fortsatt husgjest i Aftenposten og nyter bred "ekspert" status i vestlige medier. Big Brother lønner sine tjenere.
For Ola Bini er situasjonen verre. Hans rettigheter er trampet på i 3 år og han trenger all den hjelp han kan få, for bak rettsprosessen og dommeren står verdens mektigste makt.
Denne posten er strengt tatt om 2 svensker. Hvis det ikke passer i denne subben gidder jeg ikke krangle på det.
submitted by hobgobbledegook to Nordmenn [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Tiny_Peanuts_ [US-TX] [H] PayPal/Venmo [W] 110 Gateron Ink Black V2 L+F

Looking to buy some gateron ink black v2 that are hand lubed and filmed. Need 110.
submitted by Tiny_Peanuts_ to mechmarket [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Xanarki Skold vs. KMFDM - Skold vs. KMFDM | Survivor Round 3

And now "Gromky" is the next one to go at 33.3%. It's been pretty scattered as expected, but we'll see if it keeps up...
Why Me
Love Is Like
It's Not What
A Common Enemy
Error 404
All or Nothing
Porn, Kitsch & Firearms (38.5%)
Gromky (33.3%)
submitted by Xanarki to KMFDM [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 isolationmonkey What episode did Alex talk about Argies liquid diet

submitted by isolationmonkey to JARMEDIA [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 MoorthTsatch Ghost Trader ($GTR) is the world’s first tokenized crypto hedge fund on the BSC - Stealth Launch

Ghost Trader: A professionally managed and tokenized community driven Hedge Fund ran by specialists with over 30 years of experience and proven performance. $GTR gives you sustainable returns, dividends, and token price appreciation; while rewarding holders with 50% of trading profits during the lifetime of their $GTR holdings, including all future purchases. A project unlike anything anybody has ever seen in this or any other space! ⭐️ Real Utility Token! 🚀 Innovative concept! 🌐. ❇️$500K collected from private sale contributors (without any marketing and in just a couple of weeks!) ❇️Token Supply: 100 million tokens ❇️Presale Hard cap: 800 BNB filled ❇️Starting Market cap of around $1.5 Million ❇️Outstandingly detailed and thorough Whitepaper out. ❇️Biweekly reward payouts in BUSD for $GTR Holders. ❇️100% transparent team with daily AMA´s to ask them anything you wish to know. ❇️Contributors will be able to buy tokens directly from the website. ❇️Regular giveaways worth $500 in contribution for the most active community members ❇️1st Ghost Trader official NFT as a reward for a lucky community member shortly ❇️Ghost Trader app and audited VIP members area coming soon. ❇️Ghost Trader official debit card release being finalized. Contract: 0x3BaC0D0e5204696ADeB62Bf985cB17C2712eBCec 🥞 PancakeSwap (V2) : 👍🏽 Ownership Renounced : 🔒 Liquidity locked :
submitted by MoorthTsatch to ico [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 camemil Type of tape that works on skin and doesn't leave residue?

I've been using duct tape to tape down the wires coming from my headset and in ear monitors. Though it is nice and sticky, it leaves a residue. Is there an industry standard that is used to tape wires down to skin?
Thanks in advance!
submitted by camemil to Filmmakers [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 AutomaticViolinist55 Could I get a LC please comes with an online receipt as well

submitted by AutomaticViolinist55 to CanadaGoose [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 emmers100 thinking of leaving but doing ASU

I'm just wondering if any former partners were enrolled on the ASU SCAP program and ended up leaving before finishing their degree? What was the tuition cost like if you continued and paid for it out of pocket? I enjoy the benefit of getting school paid for, But I feel like my physical and mental health are draining from working at sbux and I'm not sure if I can handle a few more years. I also don't want to drop out if I do leave because getting a degree is something I've wanted to do for a bit.
submitted by emmers100 to starbucks [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Least2020-2022 Harry Potter Themed Ball for Adults

Harry Potter Themed Ball for Adults submitted by Least2020-2022 to ReferChina [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 EastBeast113 Dwarf Sephiroth can't hurt you

Dwarf Sephiroth can't hurt you submitted by EastBeast113 to SmashBrosUltimate [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 killemyoung317 How often do challenges not update for you after a match?

Just logged on and had the “Life of the Party” challenge active where you have to kill 50 enemies in Fiesta Matches. I was already at 46/50 going into my Fiesta match, and got 19 kills. Got out of the match and it’s still showing 46/50 for the challenge. This has happened to me countless times where my challenges don’t get updated despite me adding to them or outright finishing them. Does anyone else have this problem? For reference, I am playing on an Xbox One with no battle passes, etc.
submitted by killemyoung317 to haloinfinite [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 his32amy Am I just lucky or Do people exaggerate the interview difficulty level online?

Final year CS student here. Shortlisted for interviews in 4 companies. Got offers from all of them. I usually read interview experiences online beforehand and all of them are usually much harder than the actual questions that i encounter in the interview. Am I just lucky or do people exaggerate how hard the interviews are online?
submitted by his32amy to developersIndia [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 OkUse2449 University Degrees

I'm a second year hearing impaired computer science student who is fascinated in the world of hacking and have had dips in interest in anything to do with computing, e.g. had a year long obsession with coding, another with digital drawing... robots... etc, and my degree in just computer science has been too boring (maybe as there's been 0 practical sessions or usual opportunities since COVID).
I've been playing with the idea of going back to university for another course or something, like the idea of being a hearing aid engineer has always made me laugh with low-key inspiration - I'm asking for any good links explaining what jobs could result from specific degrees. e.g. CS and biology = hearing aid engineer, CS and chemistry = Nanotech or something I don't know and a website explaining multiple degrees in detail.
Would I have to pay for the second degree purely out of pocket?
submitted by OkUse2449 to Advice [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Tricky-Maker Origami Star Box!

Origami Star Box! submitted by Tricky-Maker to origami [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 thegngirl When you have a bad date and they go in for the kiss anyway

When you have a bad date and they go in for the kiss anyway submitted by thegngirl to PandR [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 ZHUPERG Authorization error

I cant log in my fb account it get stuck on buffering and everytime i stop authorization error 2b2002 pops up can anyone help?
submitted by ZHUPERG to CallOfDutyMobile [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 Zealousideal-Cup-662 Peter b. Praker in , the amazing spiderman comics

Peter b. Praker in , the amazing spiderman comics submitted by Zealousideal-Cup-662 to Spiderman [link] [comments]

2022.01.17 03:48 myler7 Pink blossom scuba

When will the pink blossom scuba be restocked 🥺
submitted by myler7 to lululemon [link] [comments]