Tempurature of inhaled smoke

I recently saw Dead and CO at the sphere, which was AMAZING! The only thing that brought on some worries is the smell of weed smoke in there and being pregnant. This is my first pregnancy and I find I am anxious about everything and this week it’s whether or not inhaling smoke has harmed the baby. Someone tell me to relax! 😂

This afternoon, they suffered a devastating fire that took more than 2 hours to extinguish. Parts of the copper on one of the domes had to be removed in order to help fight the fire, and there was a partial roof collapse on one side, between two of the domes. There had been workers on the roof doing some maintenance, which is believed to have been the cause of the fire, a stray spark or something similar.
Thankfully, it has been fully extinguished, and several members of the church have been able to re-enter the building to begin removing items such as iconography, bibles, and vestments. In addition, several of the first responders, with the blessing of the priest, were permitted to enter the altar and remove items like the chalices and crosses before returning to battle the blaze.
Most importantly, through the glory of God, there were no injuries beyond mild smoke inhalation and bruises on the workers who were on the roof, as well as the first responders who answered the call.
Please keep the entire parish community of Saint Theodosius, their clergy, and the Orthodox community of Cleveland in your prayers as we come together to grieve what has been lost, and rebuild the church over the next several months or years.

I am going through a crap time with my sinuses again. Have a doctor's appointment tomorrow to either get a nasal spray or antibiotics if I am lucky! But looking to see if anyone had any experience with any of this?
Always had issues with my sinuses and ears. As a kid I always had ear infections. As an adult it turned into sinus pressure, always get a head cold and general stuffyness. It's only in the last couple of years that I get full on infections. My nose was broken as a kid so that could explain some of it.
I quit smoking over a year ago and swapped to vaping and in all honestly it hasn't had the positive impact I was hoping it would - doctors always blamed smoking.
Pretty sure I am allergic to mould, dust, dust mites and cats. No mould in the house but everything else is. Again doctors don't take me seriously on allergies. I had a full blown asthma attack a couple of weeks ago from cleaning my carpets - thankfully a friend gave me their inhaler! Also lactose intolerant and possible wheat!
I don't have a dentist as the UK is shot. Can't afford private either but I also grind my teeth and clench my jaw (and hands) in my sleep especially when I am stressed - been a very stressful 18 months and got worse recently. I don't think my pain is a tooth infection as I have no actual tooth pain, and the pain isn't like anything I have had before when it's been my teeth. Also the issues have been going on like this for well over a year... Mouth guard worth a try?
I am not in constant pain all the time. Bad times normally come after a bad cold. I am on week 4 after 2 back to back colds - school age kids that are germ pits this year.
I have used a nasal rinse for a few years and normally helps. I do only use it when I think I have an infection though. Should I use it all the time?
Use a beconase spray and take allergy meds. Did use a decongestant last week for a few days as I thought it was my beconase spray - doctors have told me not to use them!
Just want to try and get on top of it all and try not to go through through this all the time.
Any help or advice would be massively appreciated.

I just started working a fast food job about a month ago and around the time I started working there I started having migraines every single day.. i’ve went to the doctor and ruled everything else out so unless I have a massive brain tumor that they somehow missed the signs for…then is must be my celiac disease causing it…?
My concern is, I thought this would be impossible to get a reaction from inhaling the smoke from a fryer? I work at an older fast food joint and they don’t have proper ventilation of the fryer and I am exposed to the smoke a lot. I wear a KN 95 facemask out of caution, but I’ve been made aware that they are not effective for oil smoke. My question is does anyone know if it’s possible to get sick from something like this? Or has anyone experienced the same?
So far my only symptoms have been migraines I haven’t had any bloating or any stomach issues which is why I initially considered it impossible to be a celiac disease issue.

Using my Alt account. 37M. 6 feet tall roughly 160 pounds. Ever since the beginning of 2020, I've had breathing issues. It's never been to the point where i feel I need to go to the hospital but it's definitely an annoyance. I also most of the time can't get a full yawn. What I mean by that is the yawn just doesn't...complete, I guess? Like I don't get that fulfillment from a yawn like i used to. Since then I've done numerous tests: cat scan of my chest area, x-ray, lung capacity air test, etc. I WAS prescribed an albuterol inhaler, which I take occasionally as problems arise, and it does help me get a fuller breath.
Couple other factors to mention: 1. I do have oral allergy syndrome. I have an Epipen but haven't had to use it in probably 5 years. Still need to follow up with the allergy doctor 2. I have Tourrettes Syndrome, and one of my ticks is clearing my throat/coughing. 3. I do take a daily Zyrtec to help with seasonal allergies 4. Since having the problems I have stopped smoking medical marijuana. I used to be a relatively light smoker at least compared with the majority of people I know. I didn't really start smoking weed until after college and even then it would take me around 2 weeks to smoke 1/8 of an ounce.
Anyway. After all those tests I don't really have a definitive answer. Again I never had these issues until 2020 after I had the flu (it's not totally impossible that it was Covid, but i digress) I should also note that I don't really work out at all, except for walking and sexual intercourse with my wife.
Would love any help/ideas on what I'm experiencing.
Edit also wanted to add another symptom I'm experiencing: feeling full of mucus. I feel like there's constantly mucus in the back of my throat.

In 2019 I took one hit of my friends vape, it had THC in it. They were vaping it all day and nothing happened to them besides getting high, when I asked to try it they gave it, and i felt no reaction after the first hit, I took the second hit and inhaled it more deeply before exhaling. Immediately within 10seconds I became high and extremely panicky, i felt lightheaded and as if i was in a dream. This effect lasted 1-2 hours but after that i could still "feel" it. I think I had ptsd for 1 whole year from this, and never got it treated. Whenever I'd hear the words "vape" or "thc" I'd get dizzy and panic. But I'm fine now although I still get triggered slightly. Few months later, I used one of those elf bars, (I used to smoke these a lot and nothing would happen) but since that incident I was traumatised, anyways I took one hit of the elf bar and it reminded me of that day and I became dizzy again and lightheaded and the ptsd affected me very bad. Anyways the trauma lasted many months to a year like I would feel numb every single day and no emotion, something didnt feel right but after some months it eventually faded. But I'd still get triggered when I heard the words vape etc. Start of 2021 I mostly healed, and had no symptoms, at all!!!! But end of 2022 I started getting those symptoms again randomly and didnt know why, I had no thoughts of the 2019 incident but i was feeling very weird and off. Anyways since the symptoms returned in 2022 I've never felt "normal" since, up until 2024 I'm still feeling weird. It matches with what I believe to be dpdr. I'm very scared, has this permanently damaged my brain or something. Will I ever heal? Every single day nothing feels real to me, i feel like I'm constantly dreaming, and now when I think about it my current symptoms kind of match with the incident I had in 2019, even tho i never think about this day i feel it. Have i damaged myself? Or is it all mental and treatable pls help....

In 2019 I took one hit of my friends vape, it had THC in it. They were vaping it all day and nothing happened to them besides getting high, when I asked to try it they gave it, and i felt no reaction after the first hit, I took the second hit and inhaled it more deeply before exhaling. Immediately within 10seconds I became high and extremely panicky, i felt lightheaded and as if i was in a dream. This effect lasted 1-2 hours but after that i could still "feel" it. I think I had ptsd for 1 whole year from this, and never got it treated. Whenever I'd hear the words "vape" or "thc" I'd get dizzy and panic. But I'm fine now although I still get triggered slightly. Few months later, I used one of those elf bars, (I used to smoke these a lot and nothing would happen) but since that incident I was traumatised, anyways I took one hit of the elf bar and it reminded me of that day and I became dizzy again and lightheaded and the ptsd affected me very bad. Anyways the trauma lasted many months to a year like I would feel numb every single day and no emotion, something didnt feel right but after some months it eventually faded. But I'd still get triggered when I heard the words vape etc. Start of 2021 I mostly healed, and had no symptoms, at all!!!! But end of 2022 I started getting those symptoms again randomly and didnt know why, I had no thoughts of the 2019 incident but i was feeling very weird and off. Anyways since the symptoms returned in 2022 I've never felt "normal" since, up until 2024 I'm still feeling weird. It matches with what I believe to be dpdr. I'm very scared, has this permanently damaged my brain or something. Will I ever heal? Every single day nothing feels real to me, i feel like I'm constantly dreaming, and now when I think about it my current symptoms kind of match with the incident I had in 2019, even tho i never think about this day i feel it. Have i damaged myself? Or is it all mental and treatable pls help....

In 2019 I took one hit of my friends vape, it had THC in it. They were vaping it all day and nothing happened to them besides getting high, when I asked to try it they gave it, and i felt no reaction after the first hit, I took the second hit and inhaled it more deeply before exhaling. Immediately within 10seconds I became high and extremely panicky, i felt lightheaded and as if i was in a dream. This effect lasted 1-2 hours but after that i could still "feel" it. I think I had ptsd for 1 whole year from this, and never got it treated. Whenever I'd hear the words "vape" or "thc" I'd get dizzy and panic. But I'm fine now although I still get triggered slightly. Few months later, I used one of those elf bars, (I used to smoke these a lot and nothing would happen) but since that incident I was traumatised, anyways I took one hit of the elf bar and it reminded me of that day and I became dizzy again and lightheaded and the ptsd affected me very bad. Anyways the trauma lasted many months to a year like I would feel numb every single day and no emotion, something didnt feel right but after some months it eventually faded. But I'd still get triggered when I heard the words vape etc. Start of 2021 I mostly healed, and had no symptoms, at all!!!! But end of 2022 I started getting those symptoms again randomly and didnt know why, I had no thoughts of the 2019 incident but i was feeling very weird and off. Anyways since the symptoms returned in 2022 I've never felt "normal" since, up until 2024 I'm still feeling weird. It matches with what I believe to be dpdr. I'm very scared, has this permanently damaged my brain or something. Will I ever heal? Every single day nothing feels real to me, i feel like I'm constantly dreaming, and now when I think about it my current symptoms kind of match with the incident I had in 2019, even tho i never think about this day i feel it. Have i damaged myself? Or is it all mental and treatable pls help....

In 2019 I took one hit of my friends vape, it had THC in it. They were vaping it all day and nothing happened to them besides getting high, when I asked to try it they gave it, and i felt no reaction after the first hit, I took the second hit and inhaled it more deeply before exhaling. Immediately within 10seconds I became high and extremely panicky, i felt lightheaded and as if i was in a dream. This effect lasted 1-2 hours but after that i could still "feel" it. I think I had ptsd for 1 whole year from this, and never got it treated. Whenever I'd hear the words "vape" or "thc" I'd get dizzy and panic. But I'm fine now although I still get triggered slightly. Few months later, I used one of those elf bars, (I used to smoke these a lot and nothing would happen) but since that incident I was traumatised, anyways I took one hit of the elf bar and it reminded me of that day and I became dizzy again and lightheaded and the ptsd affected me very bad. Anyways the trauma lasted many months to a year like I would feel numb every single day and no emotion, something didnt feel right but after some months it eventually faded. But I'd still get triggered when I heard the words vape etc. Start of 2021 I mostly healed, and had no symptoms, at all!!!! But end of 2022 I started getting those symptoms again randomly and didnt know why, I had no thoughts of the 2019 incident but i was feeling very weird and off. Anyways since the symptoms returned in 2022 I've never felt "normal" since, up until 2024 I'm still feeling weird. It matches with what I believe to be dpdr. I'm very scared, has this permanently damaged my brain or something. Will I ever heal? Every single day nothing feels real to me, i feel like I'm constantly dreaming, and now when I think about it my current symptoms kind of match with the incident I had in 2019, even tho i never think about this day i feel it. Have i damaged myself? Or is it all mental and treatable pls help....

I have had sinus infection since February 2024 I don't have flu nor fever, it started with feeling strong pressure in frontal area of my head. I have never experienced this before. I wake up tired all the time, I feel strong pressure in my head at night, in the previous months it was worse, I used to wake up with headache, can anyone tell me any natural home remedy for this? Please, I wish this goes away. Meds didn't help me. I stopped eating diary, rice, I don't drink coffee, I only drink fruit juices, or veggie juices. I only eat eggs; I don't eat anything sweet. I really don't know what to do, I feel so nervous. I have been taking Vitamin D for months, I feel pressure in my ears, and pain in my nose, sometimes in my jaw. In the past months it was even worse than this as I used to feel pain in my face too, in my cheeks, and now it is a bit better, but it is still there, I took meds, but meds did nothing at all. The thing I realized is that when I went to visit my friend in another city and stayed there for a week, I didn't feel this way. The moment I came back to my apartment which is in an old building I got so sick again. Do you guys think that this has something to do with this building I am in? There is mold in this apartment I am in. I used to sleep in the room that had mold on the ceiling but I recently moved to a room that doesn't have it. What do you all think ? Please, help.
I have been in this building for almost 2 years now, but why I got this infection just now and not earlier? I don't know what to eat or drink anymore. I did steam inhalation few times, but I don't know if I should do it more times and if it will work completely. Please, any advice. Thank you.
I don't drink, I never did, I don't smoke and never did.
I live in a city that has altitude of 2,610 m. Moved here around 2 years ago. Before this city I lived in a sea level city and never had this problem.

The following is a transcription of an audio cassette I discovered in my father's safe, shortly after he died. The tape has been transcribed for you here in its entirety, for my own sake.
Dad - Can you say that again?
Grandpa - Which part?
Dad - The date Dad, the recorder wasn't close enough. I wanna make sure we get everything.
Grandpa - Why is it so important that you get every last detail anyway?
Dad - Because that's what the doctor said, Dad. The more detail we get, the better he can help you.
Grandpa - Oh! is that right? He's gonna help me huh? How's he gonna do that exactly? Stuff some more magic pills down my pocket? Maybe sign me up for group therapy? Those are ALWAYS loads of fun!
Dad - No, I think he just wants to get a better understanding of -
Grandpa - He can't help me. Nobody can. Better psychiatrists have tried and failed. You wouldn't believe me anyway. There's no point.
Dad - Well, If nothing else it would help us and the doc to make better decisions regarding you. Look, I promise that I will listen to everything you have to say. I promise I’ll believe you ok?
Grandpa - Don't say that! You can't promise me something like that. It's a bullshit statement and you know it.
Dad - Alright fine. Fair enough. I promise that I will TRY to believe ok? I’ll … try. Look, forget about the doctor alright? I want to know what happened that night, ME. I want to know what you were doing in Norway. Why you can never get a damn good night's sleep, just tell me, please.
Grandpa - (Deep breath) …fine
February 20, 1943. That's when it all went down. The Axis Powers had been almost completely driven outta Africa, and the Soviets had effectively turned the tide of war in Eastern Europe. We Had the Nazis on the run, for the time being at least. They were vulnerable, sure, but they still had every capability of rebounding and kicking our asses. As such, the US was particularly interested in taking out any and all Axis weapons development programs.
Dad - Weapons development programs? What, like their tanks or the atomic bomb or -
Grandpa - Exactly. The Allies specifically targeted their hard water factories to cripple their production of the atomic bomb. But there were other targets. So-called “Wonder Weapon” projects scattered all over German-occupied territories. Manufacturing depots, chemical weapons labs, bioweapons research centers, etc. THAT'S what I was doing in Norway.
Dad - Where in Norway did they send you?
Grandpa - … Northern Norway. Far off the mainland lay an island with a Nazi outpost on it. Very little was known about the place at the time regarding its exact purpose and mission. According to our spies inland and the Norwegian rebels, the locals referred to it simply as “Fort Ond”. They said it was … a bad place. That the prisoners who were taken there were never seen again. That the waters bordering its shore were barren of all aquatic life and colder than even the most bone-chilling frostbite. Command didn’t give a shit about any of that though. Their only concern was 2 things. “Why is this installation so far from the German homeland? And “Why is it so far from mainland Norway? The conclusion they came to was that the Nazis had to be developing some sort of weapon there that they didn't wanna risk infecting a lot of people with.
Dad - So, they thought it was a chemical weapons plant?
Grandpa - No, they thought it was a bioweapons lab. Smallpox, anthrax you know that kinda stuff. We THOUGHT that's what they were doing there, but we didn't know for sure. That's where my unit came in, and where Operation Maelstrom was greenlit.
Dad - Maelstrom?
Grandpa - I didn't pick the damn name. Anyways, they wanted to keep the operation as covert as possible. Minimal manpower. One squad of British SAS, one squad of Canadian commandos, and last but not least, one squad of Army Rangers. Including yours truly.
Dad - Was the purpose of the mission just to gather intel or-
Grandpa - Our first priority was the eradication of the fort's inhabitants and the seizure of any relevant intel. However, we were also prepared for it to turn into a sabotage mission at a moment's notice. Leadership felt pretty confident about the bioweapons theory and didn't wanna take any chances with letting the stuff potentially get away, hence the limited manpower. The last thing we wanted was for the krauts to get spooked by a large invasion force and flee with any samples….
Dad - Dad? Are you ok?
Grandpa - Yeah, just gimme a second.
(The metallic opening sound of a lighter can be heard, along with the sizzling burning of paper)
Dad - Really? You gotta do that now huh?
Grandpa - What? Oh! I'm sorry, is the smoke gonna bother your little nose that much? Would you prefer I do it some other time?
Dad - I’d prefer you didn't fucking do it all! Though, In a way, it's oddly inspiring. A senior citizen, part of “The Greatest Generation” still puffing that shit all these years like it's of no consequence to his health.
Grandpa - Fuck the consequences. Can I continue now? Or is this gonna turn into an intervention? Cause if so, tell me now so I can save you the time and just leave the room and enjoy the rest of my smoke.
Dad - … please continue.
Grandpa - We were all flown to Iceland for our briefing. From the moment I arrived, I had my doubts about the operation. The sheer lack of intel we had to go off of regarding: fort size, manpower, and exact purpose just seemed odd to me. I remember thinking to myself “I hope this is enough men.''. When I did so I caught my friend Weathers looking around too. I could tell he was thinking the same thing. From there, we boarded a British destroyer that took us less than 10 miles from the island. We had to travel the remaining distance on our own in 2 PT boats. I remember just how cold it was that night. How we all subconsciously stood closer to each other than normal in a vain attempt to try to stay warm. Like a bunch of penguins, the lot of us. It was a half-hour ride to the island so we stayed like that for a while. Just hunkered up and tried to keep warm as much as we could while we waited for any sign of something. When we were about a mile from the island, we got that sign.
We saw it long before we ever got near the stuff. When we did, we all went silent and watched as we slowed down our boats to make a cautious approach. A thick fog had blanketed the sea around the coastline in all directions for about a half mile. It had a faint… red hue to it. Not a deep red, just faintly visible. It towered above us nearly 15 feet in the air like a tidal wave and seemingly stared us down. We slowly crept our boats up to it inch by inch until our bows were nearly kissing it. From there, a few of the Canadians on the adjacent boat got out some equipment and began probing the fog for any sign of toxins. We all sat there and waited for them to finish their work. As they did so I took notice of the absolute unnaturalness of it all. It made no movement towards, nor away from us. Yet it billowed and Contracted and breathed soothingly in place like you would expect a body of smoke to do. I remember distinctly thinking of it not as a wall, but more like a veil or a curtain. Hiding the island from us. A few minutes later the Canadians signaled over to our boat and gave Our commander, Captain Hawks the thumbs up. The fog wasn't toxic as far as they could tell. Given our mission though, we couldn't take any chances of it being a gas of some kind. Better safe than sorry. So we donned our gas masks and made sure our suits were nice and sealed up. I in particular had taken the liberty of duct taping around my gloves and boots to ensure it was airtight. Then, we started our boats back up and slowly sailed on into the unknown.
At first, I couldn't see anything. The fog was so thick it limited my visibility to just a few feet in front of me. And even less so in front of the boat. We couldn't have our lights on for fear of being spotted. When we were out in the open water this was fine of course. The moon and stars lit up the surrounding waters nicely for us. But now, there was little to no light penetrating the fog. we were engulfed in near-total darkness. So we just slowly inched our way forward as safely as we could. I just sat there and watched the red vapor hit and dance off my goggles while I searched for any sign of land. For a while, nobody said a word. We all just waited for what seemed like an eternity. The longer we pushed ahead, the tighter the grip on my rifle became as my nerves started up. Finally, One of the Brits broke the silence. I watched him tap the man in front of him and heard him whisper “Are we sure this is the right -'' his sentence was quickly interrupted. We had landed.
The entire boat shook wildly as a few of us lost our footing and had to grab the side walls to stay upright. As we did so, I looked around me and noticed the fog gradually growing thinner as we made our approach. Steadily, its opacity diminished. I could begin to see shapes through the veil. The crunching noises ceased a few seconds later and with them, so too did the fog from my line of sight. It was still there, but it was thinner and lower to the ground than it was over the open sea. It only came up to our knees from that point on. Which meant I could finally see our objective. The island. It was … a mess of scattered jagged rocks and hills. Caverns and towering cliffs that seemed to scatter in all directions. Like a porcupine made of stone. At its center, one giant hill stood out. I followed it from the base to the peak with my eyes and at its peak, there was a door. That was it. Not a trace of human life. No pathways, no trenches, no buildings of any kind. Nothing that would suggest any sort of operation was being undertaken on the island. There were a few guard towers of course. We knew at least that much from our aerial photos, but we had chosen our landing site specifically to be in a blind spot they wouldn't see us from. That was it though. Apart from the door that stuck out amidst the terrain looking utterly unnatural in the distance, there was not a sign of life. No buzzing of insects, no splashing of fish, no chirping of birds, even the wind itself seemed to bow before the island's authority and ceased completely. No life whatsoever. I thought back to when we first encountered the fog and just how right I was in my thought process. We truly had crossed a veil of some kind.
Captain Hawks, gave the hand signals. We all filed out and patrolled inland as fast as we could to a nearby cave. The Norwegians were waiting for us there.
Dad - The Norwegians? Were they the ones who gave you the fort's intel to begin with?
Grandpa - The very same. Adding them to our roster brought our total strike force to 35 men….
Dad - Dad?
Grandpa - …
Dad - it's ok Dad, take your time
Grandpa - (takes a deep breath) We headed into the cave and linked up with the Norwegians. Who sat steadfast in defensive positions. One of them stood up as soon as we breached the darkness of the cavern and swung his gun over in our direction, shouting at us to presumably lower our weapons, before quickly lowering his own back down and making a half-hearted apology attempt. Hawks was livid. He stormed over to the man and with one forceful strike of his fist he sent the poor Norwegian hurtling towards the ground. “You some kind of fucking moron kid? I was this close. THIS CLOSE to blowing your goddamn head off!” the commander of the Norwegians rushed over to stand between the two of them. “Please forgive us, sir! We've been on edge since we arrived a few hours ago! it was an honest mistake!” He helped his fallen soldier back to his feet and ordered him to the back of the cavern to tend to his face. Afterward, he and Hawks stared at each other for a few seconds in silence while we all just waited for one of them to speak. The leader of the Norwegians spoke first. “Something is wrong. Very wrong. Our intel is severely off.” He said. “None of the guard towers have occupants and we haven't seen a Nazi soldier patrolling the island for 3 days now. We've been spying on the island for weeks now as best we could. The entire time we did so soldiers were patrolling the shores, manning the towers, and watching the coastlines. But 3 days ago this… fog emerged. Obscured our vision and made it nearly impossible to see anything on the island. Since we arrived we've done multiple sweeps and scouting runs along the island's surface before your arrival. No one is here, American. Not a soul. It's like they just… vanished. At least, from the island's surface.” I looked back over at Mckinley who did the same. We exchanged confused looks at one another before looking back at the 2 leaders who were now talking too quietly to one another to hear. Finally, Hawks turned to face us and with a deep sigh said “We THINK the Nazis have locked themselves away within the fort's cave systems and interior. According to our good buddies here, the island's surface is safe. Let's hope they're right. Conduct final checks on all your equipment then form up by the cave entrance. We're going in.
We got into formation and made our way up the rough terrain to the door I spotted when we first landed. As far as we could tell, it was the only entrance to the interior of the fort. The ascent was nerve-racking. The cold, wet staircase that led up to the fort's entrance proved difficult to scale with all of my equipment. Which was made all the more dangerous of course, by the fog. With it clinging to around knee level on every surface of the island it made it damn near impossible to see where we were stepping. So we just slowly tip-toed our way up to the door as best we could. All the while nobody uttered a word. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat throbbing in my ears. Eventually, we reached the top of the stairs. The door itself was … monolithic.
Dad - Monolithic? What like ancient?
Grandpa - Oh yeah, stood nearly 9 feet tall and looked like it was made out of bronze or copper, I don't know. Some kind of faintly orange metal. It was covered in strange engravings that could only be described as hieroglyphic. They weren't of course, but that's the only comparison I've been able to find since that day. Believe me, I've tried. Looked through every damn book I could think of. Nothing comes close to the symbols and markings I saw engraved on that door. It was like a foreign language of some kind. It didn't look like it was written, or chipped away from the door by an expert's hand so much as it looked like it was slashed or cut. Like something had hacked away at it with claws or teeth to create the strange writing. It didn't look like a human's hand had done it. Looking up at the door, I felt like an explorer. Like I had found something lost to mankind for millennia and was rediscovering it. Only, I Didn't wanna be the person to discover this. At that moment I wasn't sure I wanted to be aware of this place's existence let alone have to open the damn thing and walk past it into god knows what. We readied our explosives, expecting to have to breach our way in. To our surprise, however, the wooden beam that was attached to the door lifted. The monolith opened slightly. And with it came the stench of utter, all-devouring Rot. like puss and spoiled milk, Bile, and sulfur all fused into one unholy concoction that assaulted my nostrils and instantly forced tears down my cheek. At first, I panicked. Believing my mask wasn't secured tight enough and I was inhaling a toxin of some kind, but when I looked up I saw all of my team members doing the same. Our masks were all working fine. We couldn't have all had a potential leak right? The smell was truly just that powerful.
The door had only given way and opened a tiny bit. Our frontman quickly had to ask for help as the door was too heavy to heave by himself. Four men, me included, pushed with all our might and then quickly ran out of the way as soon as the door was completely opened so the guys behind us could aim down the opening.
When they did, they didn't see much. Their flashlights shined straight into a wall that angled down and away from us. What lay before us was another staircase. Carved out of the very stone of the mountain itself. The fog clung lower to the ground past the doorway. Only coming up to about ankle height. but it still obscured the steps all the same as the walk up to that point. We stared down the doorway waiting for the order to advance. But Hawks said nothing. He just stood there with his gun trained ahead and his other hand held up, silently telling us to wait. I suspected he was listening. Waiting to hear any commotion from us opening the heavy door. For any sign of the enemy. There was none, however. Not a sound could be heard from down the staircase. Just like everywhere else so far. Goff leaned over to me and tapped me on the shoulder “Somethings not fucking right man” he whispered. I didn't respond. I didn't feel I needed to. Everyone was already thinking the same thing anyway. No point in vocalizing it. Especially not when I could visibly see what Hawks was thinking. I watched a chill run up his spine that shook his held-up hand and rifle slightly in place. I'd never seen him like that before. He steadied himself and with a low reassuring grunt, which was probably more for his benefit than ours, he gave the order. “File in.” so down we went.
We descended for about twenty feet. The staircase itself was dark but we could see light at the bottom. The sight of the light was a relief. Instantly I felt a tiny shred of my anxiety whither away as my instincts took hold and I readied myself for any Germans that might be waiting for us at the bottom. There were no Germans, however. None left anyway. None … alive. When I reached the bottom of the staircase, the scene laid out before me was like something you'd see at a crime scene. It was a big square room illuminated by a gas lantern in its center. The door directly ahead of us led to an opening in the floor with a ladder hooked to it, with 2 doorways on our left and right. Like a plus sign or a cross. Various crates and workstation desks laid toppled over and all faced the direction of the newly discovered staircase. Like sentry posts, they all faced towards the same point. Scattered throughout the room were the nazis. Half sunken into the fog and slightly obscured by it, draped over crates, leaning up against the walls, crumpled up like a soda can in the corner. There were at least a dozen of them. Their blood pooled beneath our feet but I could hardly notice it through the tinted fog. I took a step forward and That's when I heard the familiar jingling of empty bullet casings beneath my feet. Subsequently, bullet holes could be seen in nearly every square inch of the wall in front of us. “Jesus Christ!” Weathers shouted as he entered the room behind me, prompting Hawks to hold up his hand again signaling for him to shut up. “Whoever the fuck did this might still be here. Stay frosty” he muttered sternly to us. out “Fan out, check the rooms on our flanks'' He commanded via hand signals.
Half our men went to the room on the right while the remaining went left. I along with 3 others stood guard in the lit room and kept our guns trained on the Ladder ahead of us. As I knelt behind a crate to take a better defensive position, I noticed one of the Nazis was lying face down in a puddle of his own blood close to my right. I kept my rifle trained ahead as I slowly reached over and heaved on his shoulder forcing him to roll over onto his back. He had a look of utter terror frozen onto his face, with eyes wide open and mouth agape. He bore cuts, and large slash marks up his chest and torso which caused his entrails to expose themselves slightly. I looked around the room at the other men to verify and sure enough, the ones who weren't submerged in fog shared similar wounds of varying size and volume. “ what the fuck happened here?” I thought to myself. This thought was quickly overtaken by a doubly terrifying realization. I looked at the bullet holes directly ahead of me and thought “Whatever the hell happened here, I'm standing in the same place they were.”
After a few tense moments of sitting with that realization, the squad checking the right room emerged holding a few books and folders. They bore similar engravings to the ones seen on the door upon our arrival and were bound in leather so ancient, that it looked like the faintest breeze would disintegrate them if they weren't careful. They showed it to Hawks who took one of the books and began sifting through its pages. At first, he scanned the pages carefully, and thoroughly, but he quickly thereafter began to shuffle through them frantically and impatiently before reaching back and shoving it into his pack. “
Right about that time the squad from the left room emerged. A British soldier approached and said “Just more dead krauts sir. There's um… there's something. We found cages, big enough to fit a human in. There were bodies in them but… they weren't Ger-” “Civilians” The Norwegian team leader interrupted. “These fucking animals.” Hawks looked like he was getting ready to say something but he didn't get the chance. All conversations and thoughts were stopped when the sound of screaming could be heard down the ladder.
With one uniform motion, all remaining men turned their guns to face the same direction as I already was. We waited for what felt like an eternity. For a head to come bobbing up the opening in the floor. For the sound of footsteps. For any sign of the enemy. Nothing came. After about a minute or so Hawks gave the order. We were going down there...
I don't wanna do this anymore…
Dad - Dad, please. You can do it. Just take a second ok?
Grandpa - the smell Patrick…
Dad - What about it?
(My Grandpa can be heard taking a huge huff of his cigarette followed by loud coughing)
Grandpa - I can't get it outta my nose! It's been 60 goddamn years since then and I can't get it outta my nose! God! By the time we had reached the bottom, Goff had already vomited from it. I had to fucking cover him while he did it. Good thing I hadn't eaten anything before the briefing or else I would've too. When we reached the bottom. There was nobody. Just like the rest of the island, not a sign of life.
Dad - Dad, what did you see at the bottom of the ladder?
Grandpa - … A well. It was a large cavern-like room with multiple passageways that branched off in all directions but at its center, was a well. Made out of the same stone as the mountain itself and yet, it somehow looked older. More ancient. More… monolithic. Along its rim… were the same damn etching and carvings as the door. Upon closer examination, we saw that It was the source of the fog that had plagued us since our arrival. We watched it for a while and observed The fog billowed up, out, and over the top of the well in all directions at a constant unnatural rate. I couldn't believe that such a tiny source could have produced as much as we'd seen up to that point. I couldn't believe that The colossal wall that we encountered upon our arrival originated from such a minuscule well deep in a mountain. As we spread out to cover the other passageways, I approached it and leaned over. Patrick… The smell was so fucking strong that I was thrown back onto my hands and knees almost immediately from the stomach contractions. It was the source of the fog … of the smell… everything.
Dad - What was in the well?
Grandpa - Blood. The whole fucking thing was filled with blood. More blood than I'd ever seen in my life. More than the room upstairs, more than any other mission I'd ever been on and it was fresh! It boiled gently and seemed to move on its own as though it were alive and aware of our presence in the room and when I gazed upon it, the attack on my nose and stomach seemed like one of calculation. As though a cobra had spat in my face for daring to get too close. I wasn't allowed even a second to recover from the stench, however. At that exact moment, we heard more screams. Seemingly, from every passageway in the cavern emitted what I can only describe as wails of anguish. Like the flesh was being peeled off somebody's forearm and pouring salt back into the wound at the same time. They pierced all of our ears like razor blades and made me wince so hard I almost forgot about my stomach pain. “How fucking big is this place?!” I thought to myself “What the hell could be happening just down one of these tunnels?”.
“Fuck this” Hawks said. “Start planting charges. We are getting the fuck out of this place as soon as possible.”
It was music to all of our ears. One of the soldiers came over to check on me as the rest began to start laying charges. There was nothing professional about our process. We were just laying them out as fast as we could so we could get the hell out of that wretched place and back to the boats. The screams continued the entire time we worked.
Dad - Were they getting closer?
Grandpa - I don't know. They sounded like they were coming from every passageway all at once but It was hard to tell. We had a man eyeing down every doorway just in case though. It didn't matter. We should've been watching the well! As I struggled to compose myself and get back to my feet I had a front-row seat to what was about to happen. Goff … the poor bastard. He was doing his rounds, laying his charges along the floor. Around the well. I wanted to speak up, to tell him not to get too close. But I was still sucking in air through my teeth and couldn't get the words out. All I could do was hold my hand out to him and grunt. He turned to face me. “You gonna make it?” was the last thing I heard him say. At that very moment. An arm shot out of the well behind him. Locked itself around his neck and pulled him into the well headfirst.
The arm was inhumanly long. More like a tentacle than an arm… but its form was undeniably human still! It wrapped itself around his neck and dug its fingers into the side of his face as it dragged him deeper and deeper down. I watched him thrash around and kick his legs wildly in a vain attempt to get free. Spraying torrents of blood in all directions around him. He was already halfway submerged by the time our men got a hold of his feet. When they did so, another arm shot out of the well and locked itself around Goff's waist now pulling him in faster. I could hear gurgling, and see bubbles of air making their way to the wells surface. The poor bastard was drowning in that putrid liquid! The men pulled with all their might but it didn't slow down his descension in any noticeable way. They heaved and barked orders to the others like rabid dogs. Desperate to save our comrade. But No help came. We were alone with the incomprehensible, and it was winning. The rest of us simply stood by dumbfounded and watched As he was forcibly dragged down the well inch by inch. When it was clear that the men could do nothing more they let go and took a few steps back. Their entire arms were covered in blood up to their elbows. For a moment. Nothing happened. Nobody said a word, moved a muscle, or did anything. We all just faced the well and tried our best to process what had just happened. It didn't last long. The well began to gurgle and bubble as though it were digesting my friend. It began to overflow. Slowly, the thick crimson liquid oozed over the top of the well and onto the cold stone floor beneath making its way towards us. I was the first to make a move. I stood up and began to slowly step backward towards the ladder. That's when the massacre began.
In an instant, all of Hell erupted around us. The same arms that had dragged my friend to a then-unknown fate sprang out of the walls around us as though the island were alive and began to frantically swing around searching for a body to claim. A few of them found their mark and pulled some of the men towards the walls. Wrapping themselves around their necks, locking them in place, and suffocating them. Any sense of composure our toughest men had remaining left their bodies that very moment, as we all made a mad dash sprint for the ladder. The room was only dimly lit by all of our flashlights though. When we broke our formation and began to run, our visibility became significantly more limited. Bodys ran into each other and men began slipping on the blood that had now reached all of our feet. The fog had also begun rising in intensity at a startling rate and was now almost as thick and copious as it was out on the sea. This made it all the more hard to tell what exactly was happening and before I knew it, I was knocked onto my ass by one of the Canadians as he ran straight into me. The blood rose higher and higher. At an inconceivably fast rate, it was halfway up to my knees by the time I regained my footing. When I did I felt a sudden rush of movement brush by my left leg. That's when I saw it. There were shapes moving in the blood! Large, serpentine-like shapes that slithered all around us and began to quickly encircle my team. Like sharks they enveloped us, poised for the kill. They seemed to be probing us for weakness, waiting for the exact right moment to strike and take as many of us down as they could. I wasn't gonna let them get me. My body moved independently of my paralyzed psyche as I sprinted for the ladder, and leaped as high as I could to escape the cavern. However, The ladder was barely wide enough to fit one man on it. It was Made of wood and was not meant to support the weight of more than a couple of men at a time. I remember just how carefully we had to scale it just to get down to the cursed room in the first place! I worried it was going to give way at any second and I would be stranded in that room with those things! With the well! I felt it crack and buckle beneath me as more men than intended all tried to climb it at once. I pushed into the man above me, just as the person below me did. All in a desperate race to escape. Just when I was sure all was lost and I would never make it out, I reached the top and rolled onto my back. As I did so I heard a loud snapping sound, followed by 8 loud splashes hitting the liquid beneath.
I rolled over and shined my flashlight down the hole to look at the scene and try to help some of the men escape what had now become a tomb. It was no use though. It was 20 feet down. I… I couldn't reach any of them. Weathers… McKinley, they stared up at me and shouted for help but what was I supposed to do? The blood had risen to about waist-high by that point and there were more of those fucking things still circling them! They climbed over one another in a desperate attempt to get enough height to reach the exit but it was nowhere near enough. I felt so helpless. I watched the mysterious shapes and figures in the blood creep up to them from behind. Then, As if coordinated, in an instant they pounced on and dragged 3 men under the murky depths all at once. In that split second when they had leapt from the blood to attack the men I caught only the faintest of glimpses of their true form. They were like eels, or … or leeches with spider legs and beaks. Something of that family but it's still not an accurate comparison. They were truly, otherworldly. Inhuman even to creation itself. They were abominations that I'm glad were obscured by the fog as, to have glanced upon them in all their unholyness would've been too much for me at that moment. They yanked the men down into the ocean of blood. As they did so the men thrashed around chaotically and knocked more men over making the already futile pyramid of terrified men all the more pitiful. That's when I noticed the three who were taken by those serpents were being dragged towards the well! They were being dragged to the well so it could devour them just like Goff and take them away to some unspeakable fate! I looked at the edges of the room to search for the first victims of the attack. The ones who had been forcibly dragged towards the walls by the arms. When I found them I felt my stomach churn once again. Their bodies were halfway into the cavern walls! The arms were dragging the men headfirst into the island itself to be consumed! It was as though the island itself was alive! The well was alive And it wanted us dead! The remaining few screamed and pleaded and begged me to help them. All I could do was stare down at the chaos before me and watch.
I was ripped out of my comatose state by a firm hand on my shoulder. It was Hawks.
“Get up! We gotta get the fuck out of here!”
He picked me up by the back of my shirt and dragged me to my feet pushing me up the staircase. I had no activity coursing through my head and yet I ran. My body was truly on autopilot. I couldn't think of anything other than the men we were leaving behind and the look I saw on their faces as they screamed at me for help. The fog had now completely engulfed the inside of the fort and I struggled to maintain my footing as I ran as fast as I could through the first chamber and up the staircase. As we exited the main door I was stopped dead in my tracks. I heard gunshots behind me. By god… They were still alive! They were still fighting to get out and I was abandoning them! Hawks once again yanked the back of my shirt forward as he walked past me.
“There's nothing we can do for them! We have to get to the boats now!” and with that, he ran off ahead of me through the red smoke. Every fiber of my being compelled me to go back but my body refused to obey. I just stood there trembling, white knuckle grasping my rifle as I struggled to make a choice. After a few agonizing seconds of contemplation, I followed after Hawks and made my way to the boats. To freedom.
As we sped away from the island at top speed I was able to slowly creep back to the real world mentally and finally take note of my surroundings. It was me, Hawks, and 3 other British troops. Only 5 men had made it out. None of us said a word. We all just kept to ourselves and stared off into space doing our best to process what had happened to us. I looked back at Fort Ond one last time before it disappeared over the horizon. The fog had grown larger now. Redder. Hungrier.
When we got back to the destroyer we told command everything that we saw and what had happened. They didn't believe a word of it. I can't really say I blame them. We must've sounded insane to them. Showing up missing 30 men, covered head to toe in blood, Rambling about a mysterious well, our friends being dragged away to an unknown fate by strange creatures, Ancient bronze doors, and slaughtered nazi soldiers. They told us that we had most likely been exposed to a nerve agent. That the base was being classified as a possible chemical weapons lab and that when we inhaled the fog, maybe we were subjected to it and its hallucinogenic properties. But we were sealed up head to toe! We stood up for ourselves as best as we could. We all corroborated each other's stories and validated each other's testimonies. We swore up and down till we were blue in the face that the island was not what we thought it was. That our friends had been killed by an unknown force and that we had to destroy the fort. They just stared at us like we were a pack of lunatics. They had made up their mind about what had happened to us on that island. Any attempt made by any of us to set the record straight only served to make us look even more insane to them. I turned to one of the admirals and spoke up one last time. I had to know something before they turned us away.
“Please tell me you guys are gonna level that fucking place”
He stared at me for a few tense seconds before simply saying “We’ll handle it.”
And with that, it was over. All the remaining members of Operation Maelstrom were discharged the next day. Deemed “medically unfit” to continue service. Each of us was briefed individually on the events of that night and I was told not to utter a word to anyone about the events of Operation Maelstrom, or to disclose the fort's location to anybody. The Colonel who was briefing me told me “For the record, I believe there's at least a little truth in what you told us. But regardless, you and the survivors are a liability now. Unstable and erratic. We can't risk putting any of you onto another operation, not after what happened to you. Or at least, not after what you think happened to you. I'm sorry but this is for your own good.” I was put on a plane the next day and sent home.
that's it…
You don't believe a word of what I just said, do you?
Dad - Well… no, not all of it. I mean, I want to but it's a little much to proc-
Grandpa - I know how it sounds! You think I don't hear myself saying this shit to you? I know how it must sound! But it's the truth, son. The well is real! What happened to me… was real.
Dad - I'm sure it must've felt that way, Dad. But you gotta-
Grandpa - YOU DON'T BELIEVE A FUCKING WORD OF IT! Nobody does. You, the doctor, and every other person I've confided in just think I'm some fucking lunatic who imagined all this. I see the way you're looking at me! Like I'm just some poor old man who's losing his mind! I KNOW WHAT I SAW! I KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH! You weren't there.
Dad - I know I wasn't! I'm not saying I was Dad but c'mon. Work with me. Isn't it possible it WAS a nerve agent or something? How the hell would you know it wasn't?
Grandpa - BECAUSE WE ALL SAW THE SAME DAMN THING! All of the survivors of Maelstrom gave the exact same testimony upon our return! Everything from our encounter with the fog to our return to the ship was synced up perfectly! What? Do you think we all hallucinated the exact same thing?
Dad - No! I just think that maybe-
You know, They took the books that Captain Hawks acquired. Oh yeah! They made sure we kept nothing from our mission. Stripped us bare right after we returned to ship but He told me what he saw in those pages! More of those Strange symbols! Those hieroglyphics of unknown origin. The mention of a “Tor zur Hölle”. Some kind of fucking portal to hell, or somewhere worse, or god knows where! You wanna know why I can't sleep at night, Patrick? The real reason? It's because I know it's still there! “Well handle it”.Yeah like hell they did! They probably just set up shop themselves and tried finishing what the krauts started. Or maybe not. Maybe they heard our warnings and listened to us. Maybe they shelled the place into oblivion and actually did handle it. But I'll never know son. I'll never get my closure on the events that happened that night. I'll never get to know with 100% certainty that the well has been sealed and that whatever lies in the depths of Fort Ond can't get me anymore.
Dad - Let's just take some deep breaths ok? Why don't we just calm down and -
Grandpa - This was a waste of time. It always is with you people.
Dad - Dad, please!
Grandpa - We're done here! turn that damn thing off and get-
The tape ends there. I couldn't find any additional tapes in my fathers' belongings. So, for the time being, that's where the story ends too. I didn't know my grandfather too well. He died when I was 12 and was a recluse so sadly, this tape is one of the only glimpses I've ever gotten into his life. I don't know what to believe. It’s easy to write him off as crazy or the victim of a gas attack. But The fear I heard on that tape sounded so real. That's gotta mean something right? If nothing else, the torment he endured was real. And Maybe, that's all that matters. Or maybe, just maybe… he’s right. Maybe Fort Ond still stands. Exactly as he described. Hidden somewhere, behind the veil of fog.

I don't have flu nor fever, it started with feeling strong pressure in frontal area of my head. I have never experienced this before. I wake up tired all the time, I feel strong pressure in my head at night, in the previous months it was worse, I used to wake up with headache, can anyone tell me any natural home remedy for this? Please, I wish this goes away. Meds didn't help me. I stopped eating diary, rice, I don't drink coffee, I only drink fruit juices, or veggie juices. I only eat eggs; I don't eat anything sweet. I really don't know what to do, I feel so nervous. I have been taking Vitamin D for months, I feel pressure in my ears, and pain in my nose, sometimes in my jaw. In the past months it was even worse than this as I used to feel pain in my face too, in my cheeks, and now it is a bit better, but it is still there, I took meds, but meds did nothing at all. The thing I realized is that when I went to visit my friend in another city and stayed there for a week, I didn't feel this way. The moment I came back to my apartment which is in an old building I got so sick again. Do you guys think that this has something to do with this building I am in?
I have been in this building for almost 2 years now, but why I got this infection just now and not earlier? I don't know what to eat or drink anymore. I did steam inhalation few times, but I don't know if I should do it more times and if it will work completely. Please, any advice. Thank you.
Added: I don't drink, I never did, I don't smoke and never did.
I live in a city that has altitude of 2,610 m. Moved here around 2 years ago. Before this city I lived in a sea level city and never had this problem.

I was wondering if anyone else has experienced any breathing issues while quitting. sounds ironic but I guess continuously inhaling and exhaling would regulate my breathing and calm me down? I never had issues taking deep breaths while I smoked but now whenever I have physical cravings, I have trouble taking deep breaths and have really high levels of anxiety. is this just my withdrawal or are my lungs fucked up

I went to a psychiatrist for an EEG test, so that I can check if things are alright. They used an alpha waveform and the results showed that certain parts are slower than average. One comment that stuck with me is that usually the mind reflects on the state of the brain and my brain is in chaos.
They asked me a few questions and if I have any specific symptoms and complaints to which I answered honestly.
Some of the ones that I mentioned are the following:

• Issues with concentration and focusing on something for more than 15 minutes.
• Issues with retaining information while listening and reading. (working memory)
• Issues with storytelling.
• Issues with understanding/comprehending new "complicated" things.
• Issues with verbally forming sentences.
• Forgetfulness.
• Procrastination.
• Emotional problems.
• Frustration.
• etc.

Then I was handed an ADHD diagnosis and a Stimulant prescription.
(I did not go on Stimulants, as I do not think it would be a good idea)
However, it never crossed my mind to even mention that I experience weird symptoms such as:

• Discomforting chest pain and tightness. (It usually happens when I feel anxious, angry, stressed or sad. In rare occasions it happens when I wake up or when I am fully awake. It can also happen if I consume too much sugary food.)
• Hypnopompic and Hypnagogic hallucinations. (Its happens if my brain has been stimulated in any kind of way before sleep.)
• Sudden loss of vision and/or hearing. (It happens randomly once every few months)
• Deep loud beeping noise in my ears that is different from the usual high pitched one that everyone experiences from time to time. (It happens randomly once every few months)
• High amount of red and white blood cells that has been going on for more than 10 years. (It has been going on continuously and doctors never took it seriously)
• Suspecting bone loss in terms of volume as well as random occurrences of pain in my bones. (Doctors think that I am insane and that i speak nonsense as no human on this planet is capable of noticing bone loss)
• Suspecting possible parasitic infestation. (Once in a while, when I wake up I would feel worms moving beneath my skin.)
• Suspecting possible periodontitis or tooth abscess. (I had 4 separate endodontists treatments on two molars and the job was not done well. In the past I was a NEET for 4 years and I had issues with my hygiene.)
• Suspecting a Traumatic Brain Injury caused by a dog bite when I was a toddler. I was even forced to inhale smoke from the burning fur of the dog as it was some weird custom. (Nobody cares including the doctors... It is simply written off as a slight scratch on my head and nothing serious enough.)

I wish to get a CT scan of my brain and heart, but I don't know what to say to a Neurologist.

They clung to the edge of the shell crater like a drowning man to driftwood. The rattle of the MG 08’s and the shriek and boom of artillery muffled all the shouts and cries and screams. A burst of bullets skipped across the top of the hole like a smooth stone across a calm lake. They heard a whistling like a distant kettle and then heard nothing but an almighty ringing in their ears, their very minds.
“Are you hit?” Tommy screamed over the chaos of the battlefield. William’s hearing came back in He fired one, twice from the lip of the defilade, not aiming at any spot in particular, just in the general area that the Germans were in. Squeeze the trigger, work the bolt, don’t look at the rotting corpse to your left. Just keep the rhythm. William thought. Just like training.
William patted himself down. He checked his chest, his legs. He felt wet down the leg of his trousers. Blood from a wound he feared, the mud of No Man’s Land he hoped, piss from fear he knew.
Tommy’s Springfield Rifle lay some yards away, half submerged in stagnant crater water, the butt splintered from a machine gun bullet.
“I don’t think…no, I’m okay. I’m fine.” William called. His fingers continued to search along his kit. His canteen had been struck; what little water he had left sloshed below the impact line. That thin, metal bottle had stopped much of the force of the bullet. It had probably been a ricochet anyway. He pressed his side. Blinding light and a feeling in his throat like he might hurl confirmed his fears.
A flash and roar like a thunderstorm from Hell erupted above them. And again. And again. William clasped his hands over his ears and screamed. He screamed for God, he screamed for his mother, he screamed for anyone or anything that could make it stop.
He could not die. Not here. Not in some devastated spit of land thousands of miles from home. Not while Martha waited for him. And not next to this carcass.
The body had been dead for some time, maybe even since the start of the war. A mud splattered uniform made him impossible to identify. His helmet, along with the entire top of his head, had been blasted into a ruin of metal and bone. His eyes had rotted away, or else been picked clean by the legion of rats that infested the area.
And suddenly, it grew quiet. The guns had stopped. And in that silence, the horror grew. Groans, moans, screeching horses and screaming men.
Dirt had showered William. It got on his neck, down his shirt, it stuck to his sweat soaked face and piss and blood stained pants like metal to a magnet.
William’s eyes grew wide as he saw the red-brown patch on Tommy’s side grow. “Oh, Christ!” He scrambled over the dirt and debris to his friend. “Tommy, your mask!” There was a chunk of shrapnel the size of William’s fist through the glass lense of the right eye socket of Tommy’s gas mask. It had punched clean through and lodged in his hip.
“I’m okay. I mean I’ve been hit, but I’m not dying here. The Germans haven’t deployed gas. Listen…no gas gong. We’re okay, Will.”
There were more screams now, more choking some muffled, all very human in their commiseration.
The corpse in the shell hole seemed to turn to look at William now, its eyeless sockets fixed right on him. Look up. William heard the voice in his mind, clear as if Tommy had said it.
William crawled away from Tommy and carefully, slowly, peered over the top.
It seemed like fog at first. It had a similar consistency. A sort of soupy, yellow-brown cloud was approaching, rolling over men and horses and devastation, inevitable as the ocean tide.
Gas. Mustard gas by the look of it. A mere touch causes your skin to blister. William did not want to imagine what happened if you inhaled it.
“Tommy! Gas!”
Thomas Totman, Private First Class, Brother, Son, William Lafevre’s best friend, drew his trench knife and advanced.
The blade was nicked from use. The brass knuckles attached to the handle, so proudly maintained through the first weeks of combat, were worn and cracked in places. But that blade was sharp. Sharp as the day was long. And today was July 4th, not far from the longest day of the year.
The knife cut through cloth and flesh as if they were butter. It sank to the hilt, retreated, and charged in again with the same ease as before. William went stiff and half rolled, half tumbled down the crater, next to the skeletal remains of one who came before.
The eyeless face, the exposed jaw and teeth, all seemed to grin at William as blood bubbled from his lips.
Tommy was on him again, though this time with searching hands. William tried to push him away, but his arms felt funny, his fingers numb.
Tommy snatched the rubber gas mask from William’s hip. It amazed him that something so small, so fragile, so unknown to them both until a few months ago, would not only destroy their decades long friendship, but also end his life.
Tommy pulled the mask on, squeezing it over his head and checking to make sure it sealed properly. Then he sat, pulled his legs to his chest and rocked back and forth, his breath misting the lenses.
The gas rolled over the lip of the crater, the smoke of a million cigarettes blown down a narrow stairwell. William tried to crawl away, maybe to the dead man, maybe he had a working mask.
His chest was screaming, begging for relief, and his useless arms did nothing but twitch at his side. The dead man’s jaw slammed open like a drawbridge, and he started laughing, cackling, as the gas descended to the bottom of the crater.

Never let a human escape : One Shot Short Story
Mike Samson jolted awake to a blinding light flooding his studio apartment. He shielded his eyes as crackling arcs of blue energy danced across his body, every nerve suddenly detonating in anguished fire. Paralysis gripped his muscles even as he tried to cry out.
Looming figures materialized amidst the electrical flare - grotesque bipedal reptilians with leering crimson eyes and taloned hands. Their lipless maws stretched wide, lolling forked tongues scenting the air as they surrounded Mike's prone form. Guttural alien words were hissed back and forth, the meaning opaque but dripping with malign intent.
Mike's world became a whirlwind of thrashing limbs and piercing shrieks as he was wrenched from the safety of his apartment. His fingernails raked futilely across floorboards until the reptilians pinned his flailing appendages, injecting him with an insidious inky ichor. Sedation flooded his mind in cloying chemical shockwaves, subsuming him into a lightless gulf of terrified delirium.
When consciousness sputtered back, he found himself entombed in a claustrophobic metal chamber. Tubes and cables snaked across his naked bruised body, adhering to his flesh with osculating mouthparts that pumped calibrated chemistries through his bloodstream. The chamber's curved walls throbbed with alien energies and holographic readouts scrawling reams of data in indecipherable xenolinguistics.
Mike retched in breathless cycles, his throat burning from acidic expulsions. Liquid terror coursed through his veins as unfathomable implications slowly crystallized. He'd been abducted...by aliens...for reasons his traumatized psyche refused to countenance. Test subject, lab rat, biological curiosity - none of those roles offered any shred of consolation as the chamber's atmosphere toxified with soporific aerosols and dragged him back into oblivion's void.

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Has it been hours? Days? Weeks?
Mike drifted in and out of muddled consciousness, his bearings unmoored from any sense of time's passage. Periods of lucidity were fleeting islands amid an endless ocean of drugged delirium. The only constant was the steady throb of his heartbeat reminding him he still clung to life.
Alien machinery burred and chirped all around him in a maddening industrial symphony. Icy metal restraints bit into his wrists and ankles with every feeble twitch of struggle against their corrosive bite. Mike's throat was raw from bellowing until his voice gave out - hoarse howls of mutinous fury directed at his unseen jailors.
Visions flickered at the peripheries of his sedation-blurred mind. Arcane readouts and holographic displays bathing him in eldritch kaleidoscopic hues. Twisting shapes moving just outside his field of vision, forms that struck primordial chords of terror within his fraying psyche.
Where was he? What fresh abomination had he been submitted to by these...things? His memories were scorched ashes swirling in mental windstorms, cyclones of delirium peeling back each successive layer of reality until only the stark existential core remained - survive, escape, or die.
Each agonizing return to lucidity saw Mike renewing his struggles against the restraints with snarling desperation. He could feel his body's resistance to the sedatives gradually building, his flashes of cognizance persisting for longer intervals before the soporific tsunami dragged him back under.
He pulled at the bonds until his wrists ran with blood, snarling through clenched teeth as his muscles screamed in agony. Every iota of leverage was exploited, his frame bowing into a tortured arch as tendons and ligaments strained in rebellion against the metal's embrace.
Something had to give. He could feel the integrity of his bonds slowly compromising. A hairline fracture caulking, threads sheering apart with each explosive exertion. The acrid tang of his own sweat and desperation flooded Mike's nostrils, lending visceral momentum to his thrashings as sanity ebbed.
With a scream of cathartic ferocity, one strap's corroded links finally severed under his single-minded throes. An arm broke free, flailing wildly as it summited its shackled peak. Mike's roars achieved a galvanizing fervor as realization blossomed - his escape was now inevitable, even if it meant shredding every tendon and dislocating every bone.
He needed to escape. He needed to get back home.
The chamber reverberated with the wail of klaxons, their shrill cries cutting through the air like banshees unleashed. Warning lights pulsed in a frenzied dance, casting eerie shadows across the metallic walls.
They knew he was free.

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The stench of burning insulation seared Mike's nostrils as he clawed his way free of the shattered alien wreckage. Jagged shards of metal sliced deep into his palms, warm blood streaming over his trembling fingers. He sucked in a ragged breath of toxins and smoke, instantly doubling over in a fit of rasping coughs that lasted until spots clouded his vision.
Disoriented, he dragged himself across a carpet of mangled bodies and severed limbs. The dead seemed to leer at him with glassy eyes, their jaws frozen in forever-screams of agony. He retched uncontrollably at the sight, vomiting up streams of sour bile until his abdomen clenched with painful spasms.
Get up! His mind screamed the command like a slaver's lash. Trembling, Mike rose to his feet, nearly collapsing again as his gaze fell upon the ruined wasteland surrounding him. The alien craft's hull had been torn asunder, scattering twisted wreckage across a desolate clearing. In the distance, a verdant alien jungle extended in every direction, its dense foliage seeming to pulse with threats undiscerned.
His first urges were to curl up and expire like the corpses at his feet. Let this nightmare claim him. Perhaps in oblivion's void he might find merciful respite. But a more primal drive recoiled within him - the ingrained human compulsion to persevere, no matter how hopeless or harrowing the circumstances.
Stumbling through the burning wreckage, Mike became a scavenger parsing through the leavings of carnage. A sharpened length of metal shearing became his first weapon, still streaked with the fluorescent blood of its alien former owner. Strips of insulation were wrapped around his lacerated palms as makeshift bandages.
Clutching the blade, he forged on into the unknown depths of the jungle, its shadows and stifling humidity seeming to swallow him whole as he ventured heedlessly forward with no clear destination. All that mattered was putting distance between himself and the haunting mass grave of the alien craft.
Days stretched into sole-lacerating weeks as Mike wandered the primordial arboreal maze, slowly surrendering vestiges of his former life with each agonizing step. The blood-sodden layers of his tattered clothing gradually fell away until he moved through the jungle's gloom entirely nude and feral. His fair skin was sunburnt and leathery, his once pampered hands transformed into gnarled claws.
While the sustenance of unfamiliar alien vegetation helped slake his thirst, hunger remained his constant goad and tormentor. He eyed the scurrying forms of reptilian creatures with the raptor focus of a starving animal until the will to survive eclipsed all human compunction.
Using his sharpened metal shard, he dissected and consumed his first kill like a ravening beast, slurping up morsels of glistening flesh and shredding hide with his bare teeth. The act was a sordid rebirth, irrevocably severing him from his former existence. With each hunt, each successful skirmish against the jungle's myriad lethal threats, he lost more of whatever lingering humanity still persisted.
When at last he encountered the giant bipedal alien hunters, Mike was all but unrecognizable. His filthy, emaciated form was caked in dried sweat, grime and ichors of past kills. His salt-encrusted hair hung in matted cords over eyes that no longer showed anything beyond the desperation of a starved predator.
Armed with an arsenal of bone spears and crude blades fashioned from discarded alien tech, he fell upon the hunting party with such ferocious savagery that they initially mistook him for a member of their own reptilian species. Bellowing wordless screeches of fury, Mike decapitated and eviscerated with the unreasoning violence of a rabid animal.
Only after painting his entire body in the vibrant ichor of his slaughtered adversaries did his primal frenzy begin to abate. He stood in the sanguine entrail-strewn aftermath like a feral pagan idol of warfare. Gone was any glimmer of the man he had once been before his ordeal. That identity was dead, replaced by a nameless, savage demigod whose only purpose was to endure.
As Mike submerged himself back into the jungle's leafy shadows, a mad bark of laughter escaped his cracked lips. He was no longer a prisoner to this world - the worlditself was now the shackled captive, unable to extinguish the indomitable spark of his will to survive. No depredation, anguish or madness could extinguish the raging furnace of his need to persevere at any cost.
He was the alpha and the omega of this blighted untamed hell. All else that cross his path would be subsumed by the remorseless riptide of his existence. Reason, mercy, and hope were antiquated relics he'd gladly use as tinder to stoke the inextinguishable bonfire of his will to endure unto forever. His metamorphosis was complete.

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The air hung thick and fetid in the Cenmeri rainforest, a miasma of rot and desperation. Tchir's leathery nostrils flared as he scented his prey - the sweet, cloying musk of human fear. His massive tail lashed back and forth, crushing underbrush with each powerful swing. Wicked talons as long as daggers flexed, eager to rend flesh from bone.
Tchir signaled his hunting pack with a guttural hiss. Six hardened killers fanned out in formation, their bodies adorned with jagged scars and ritualistic markings. They moved with a predator's graceful menace through the gloom.
Up ahead, the mutilated remains of a previous team littered the jungle floor like obscene blossoms. Entrails painted the foliage in garish streaks of crimson. One corpse hung crucified from a tree trunk, its sightless eyes already being consumed by rapacious insects.
A low, bestial growl rumbled from Tchir's gaping maw. The human was close. He could taste its acrid stench of terror, Could hear its feeble heart hammering like a war drum. His obsidian claws dug into the loamy soil as he inhaled deeply, triangulating the fear pheromones saturating the air.
Without warning, bloody carnage erupted. One hunter pitched backwards, impaled by an impossibly long metal spike that seemed to appear from nowhere. Another's head detonated in a crimson mist as something unseen moved through the jungle with blurring speed. Tchir roared in fury, the sound shaking leaves from the canopy.
His packmates opened fire blindly into the vegetation, high-caliber rounds chewing through wood and pulping anything in their path. For a suspended moment, the forest held its breath, hunkering in dread anticipation.
Then it began anew - dismembered limbs and viscera raining from the treetops in a foul deluge. Tchir felt white-hot agony erupt across his back as he spun, jaws snapping at his invisible tormentor. A handful of razor-edged flechettes protruded from his armored hide, punched there by immense force.
One by one, the hunters fell, their anguished screams abruptly truncated. Only Tchir remained, crouched in the greasy mulch, stunned and alone. He snapped his head from side to side, searching in vain for any trace of the human.
Without warning, it was there - a blur of movement depositing itself atop Tchir's barrel chest, knees pinning his arms. The stench of its fear had transformed to a feral musk of hatred. Tchir snarled up at his attacker, hideously deformed jaws stretching wide in a futile attempt to disembowel the human.
It leaned in close, pupils glittering like polished obsidian. It smiled mirthlessly, lips pulling back to expose teeth augmented to keen points. In its hands it held a gleaming blade, its mirrored edge seeming to swallow all light.
The human's sardonic voice was a slithering whisper: "You should not have brought me here."
With a solitary, fluid motion, it drew the blade across Tchir's jugular. Boiling green ichor geysered from the gaping wound as the hunter's mighty body shuddered and fell still. The human rose, drenched in Tchir's lifeblood, yet seemed utterly apathetic to the horrific violence it had committed.
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Vkralt hissed in frustration as the holographic tactical display flickered through the latest reconnaissance imagery. More of his kinsmen's corpses, strewn like butchered meat among the mangled wreckage of their insertion craft.
Around the dimly lit command pavilion, his fellow elders shifted in agitated silence, their armored tails lashing behind them. They knew the implications as well as Vkralt - another extraction team had been massacred by the human fugitive.
"This cannot continue," Vkralt finally growled, spiked tongue flicking out to taste the tension in the air. "That mammalian's vendetta has already claimed over fifty Karrthaz lives. We are hemorrhaging our finest warriors to equatorial folly."
"What choice remains to us?" One of the elders finally rasped. "We cannot allow such an abomination to range unfettered across the jungle, consumed by hatred and seeking indiscriminate vengeance."
"And we cannot solicit intervention from any of the greater civilized worlds," snapped another. "To do so admits we attempted sentient species ! We just short of confess we broke the intergalactic Rites of Observation."
"Perhaps..." a raspy voice joined the discourse, every head turning to regard the withered form of Kalrax the Ancient.
Eyes filmed with cataracts, the wizened elder nonetheless fixed the gathered throng with a stare that demanded deference. "Perhaps we have underestimated the magnitude of consequence should we fail to excise this human remnant."
Akralt lowered his head in solemn obeisance. "Enlighten us, Ancestor."
Kalrax worked his jaws slowly, every word feeling carved rather than spoken: "We have already borne witness to the damage one solitary human is capable of perpetrating. With only the basest tools and primordial wrath as weapons. Now ponder...what if this human is allowed to escape and interface with its terrestrial hive-kin? What if a unified human force, augmented by their burgeoning technologies, took offense at our violations and sought unconditional retaliation?"
A horrified susurrus passed through the assembled Karrthaz as the implications reverberated. Raising a single gnarled talon, Kalrax silenced them and continued in a voice gone deathly quiet:
"If a lone, nameless terrestrial is capable of such devastation...what horrors would befall the Karrthaz lineage should we face the combined wrath of its entire planet? We Risk Extinction..."
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Sure, you might die of cancer, but does the true warrior not risk his existence constantly? Do you really fear yellowed fingertips so much that you should reject the culmination of masculinist aesthetics? Are your lungs so weak as to assuredly succumb under the same smoke that had guided free and just native Americans for centuries?
Smoking tobacco is a sign of maturity, of awareness of what is beautiful, of removing yourself from the kind of narcissistic concern that leads to such defects of the mind as vegetarianism; without tobacco, man is stripped of his promised fulfilment of the industrialist desire to become his own cloud-spewing factory; tobacco is balance, it is that which both brings us close to nature by inhaling it and proves our ability to conquer nature.
Men die and cattle die, and most assuredly you will die also – but I know one thing: the time you spend on this Earth partaking in the art of shamans, seizing from the plant that binds communities, offers you breaks from your labor, and induces within you an aura of mystery and noble elevation is time well-spent.

I haven't been able to breathe properly since the ending of last year, Dec 2023. I'm 20 years old, and have had extreme cases of not being able to breathe, and having to go to the ER. They couldn't really help me for some reason. I smoke marijuana and have done things called "dabs" before but they were never a permanent thing. Now I think my lungs are permanently damaged and there's no return or recovery. I can't even inhale or exhale without wheezing, and I'm constantly coughing up mucus. My airways are constantly tightened and I'm not in the best position for medical assistance or money for that kinda stuff so I've been using expired Albuterol to help treat some flair ups that make it almost impossible to breathe, but I'm gonna have to stop doing that soon because it's giving me serious heart issues as well. It hurts to take deep breaths. I don't wanna say I'm addicted to marijuana but I definitely have a dependency, and it's the only thing that helps with my other pain from past injuries. I just can't stop smoking no matter what, but the thing is I can't smoke nearly as much as I used to or even take hits that where even near the size of the ones I did in the past. I can't afford edibles or id try that. I'm not sure if it's because I've smoked fake dabs or fake carts though my life but I feel trapped, empty, and hopeless. I CANT breathe. It's so hard to go to sleep because most of the time it's me trying to fight for breaths and it's harder to breathe while laying down . I can't even work out for 30 minutes without having a breathing attack. I can't do anything a normal 20 year old can do because of my breathing. I'm not like super overweight or anything so ik it can't be that. I need help. Genuine help. I can't afford anything most of the time Im usually dead broke because of how hard it's been to keep a job. What are some natural remedies or advice that can help me improve my breathing? And saying to stop smoking is a obvious one so please don't tell me to stop smoking because Ik that's a problem I have to get over.