FINALLY the next DEAD WEST EPISODE is live! Part 9 "The Crone, The Crow, and the Mountain Child" brings us ever closer to our finale. Auggie communes with family, the veil around the Ward family legacy thickens, and Conrad finds a way forward with Daniel.
Trigger warnings: Harm to children, violence to children implied and direct, claustrophobia, possession.
Listen Here:
Apple
Spotify
RSS
Your Preferred Player
or you can head to our free Patreon and get it ad free over there!
Thank you all so much for your patience on this one, it has been a hell of a year. Here's to a new and hopefully kinder year.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Bo lay on the decrepit floor, which smelled of stale wood, dust, and mildew, listening to a night bird crying somewhere beyond the wall. The sound was sharp, lonelyâas if ripped out of the silenceâand yet too alien for this place, as though it should never have reached here.
He didnât remember how long heâd been here.
Didnât remember how heâd gotten in.
Didnât remember where heâd been going.
It felt as if he had always been here.
He opened his eyes. Not at once. Not on the first try.
First, the stirring of his lids, a barely perceptible flutterâas if his body were testing whether it was even possible. Then another. His eyelids unsealed themselves heavily, as if they had fused together, and the motion seemed excessive, unnecessary.
As if he had been sleeping.
And sleeping.
And sleeping.
Too long to wake up.
When his vision finally returned, he slowly swept his gaze across the room. Empty, quiet, still. This place had no feeling of life, yet neither did it look ruined.
The windows were intact. The glass was murky but not broken. The door stood in its frame, slightly crooked but closed. The building looked abandonedânot for a year or two. And yet there were no signs that anyone had visited it since.
It had simply been left.
And forgotten.
A fat black fly buzzed past, annoyingly persistent.
Its sound was too loud for this silence. Almost irritating.
Bo waved a lazy hand without lifting his head. His arm moved on its own, without effort, as if this were the only action that still made any sense.
The fly disappeared.
But not a minute passed before it came back with company. They circled slowly, heavily, as if the air itself held them in place. Now and then they landedâon the floor, on his clothes, on his skinâand took off again.
Bo no longer tried to shoo them away.
It didnât seem to matter.
His clothes were dusty. Thin.
Pants of an indeterminate colorâgray, faded, the kind of color everything becomes if left motionless for too long.
A shirt that might once have been white.
The fabric sagged, lost its shape. Clung to his body where it should have moved.
And there were no shoes, for some reason.
He didnât remember why. Not that it mattered.
He must have stunk.
The thought came, but provoked no reaction.
He couldnât smell anything.
Couldnât feel anything at all.
Not the cold of the floor.
Not the hardness of the planks.
Not the weight of his own body.
It was as if sensation had been severed. The body remainedâbut everything that filled it had been removed.
It felt as if he could lie here forever.
Without moving.
Without thought.
Without purpose.
Gradually dissolve into that smell of dust and mildew that he couldnât even perceive. Spread across the boards, become part of this floor. First just rot, then a dirty stain, then something indistinguishable from the rest of the decay that had been here before him.
Sprout into fungi.
Crawl into moss.
Become part of what had already been here before him.
What would remain after.
And stay.
Forever.
The thought didnât frighten him.
There was nothing in it at all.
But somewhere deep insideâwhere something still remainedâan itch began.
Faint at first.
Like a mild irritation. Like the bite of an insect you could ignore at first.
Then stronger.
More insistent.
Almost like those flies.
Something demanded.
Not in words. Not in conscious thought.
It demanded action.
To sit up.
To rise.
To move.
To shift one foot, then the other.
He didnât know where.
Didnât know why.
He just had to move.
To go.
This inner demand felt more real than anything else. The only thing not blurred, not empty.
Bo stirred slowly.
His body responded with a delayâas if the signal were taking too long. As if he were not here but somewhere to the side, merely operating what lay on the floor.
He sat up.
The motion took longer than it should have.
The world swayed slightly.
The flies scattered for a second.
Then returned.
He raised his head.
Then himself.
He stepped outside.
In the nocturnal gloom, just beyond the house, stood a
horse.
Gray.
Too distinct against the darkness.
It wasnât grazing.
Wasnât shifting its weight.
Wasnât tossing its head.
It wasnât moving at all.
Just stood there.
Like a statue.
Like a stuffed animal.
Like something placed here and forgotten. As if it were part of the house itself.
Bo looked at it without blinking.
And at some point, a thought appeared.
Not formed. Not arrived.
Just emerged.
This is his horse.
He didnât try to verify it. Didnât compare. Didnât seek confirmation.
( @deadwest ! )㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤㠤â if you say so . . . â ( cont . )
yekaterina shifted beneath john's accusatory gaze . her body ached , her skin mottled with bruises beneath her clothes and she knew that there would be more come morning . she hated feeling useless , or worse a bother , so yekaterina kept to herself more often than not . she'd had to take care of herself for so long that she struggled to speak up . with a soft sigh she pulled away a bit of cloth she had been holding to a cut beneath her lip .
â there was a snake , i think . . . â she hated the damn things , especially the ones that lived in the grass here with their venom and their rattling . â my horse spooked and she ran through some bushes . i fell off of her on some rocks . â her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and she sent an angry look towards the horse in question , asleep with the others . â i should be more observant , i guess . . . it was lucky that the snake didn't bite me , i suppose . â
â   those youâll find after me arenât too interested in keeping conversation,   â   she begins,  her timbre not that of anaretaâs pilgrims but of its natives.  who else to survive such land of constant burning,  wrought of folklore  &  myth,  antagonistic to even its oldest inhabitants.  land of bloodsoaked mud  &  horned serpents,  ash  &  airborne debris.    â   &  my own is less than little.  i think itâs within the best of both of our interests that you turned over that weapon.  â
         her eyes were steadfast ------    arms crossed over her chest as she watched along the  FLASHY GUN  and the slinging personality.   a tightness on her arm,  feeling a sense of   REALNESS  flash through her body.    (  WAS ANYTHING  REAL. )    her eyes flickered.      â    now youâre just  SHOWING OFF.    â Â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
but thereâs a flash in her eyes, something like horror at the sight of her own blood. miss katherine barlow lives and dies for a moment in her fearful stare--- and then itâs gone, seemingly for good.
â Â Â the bullet just nicked me. the bloodâs the only problem. you got any bandages or do i gotta start tearinâ up shirts ?? Â Â â
・シ:*:ď˝Ľďž đ  @deadwestâ .  |  starter call .
Screaming Soup is an animated program on Youtube that centers around a skeletal cowboy named Dead West who reviews horror films, mostly really low budget, so bad itâs good movies so that he can discover how to be the next big horror icon!
This show is filled with a large variety of supporting characters that are all based on classic monster and horror tropes and theyâre all hilarious. The showâs humor and animation quality is similar to what wouldâve aired on classic Adult Swim and itâs fucking FILLED with cute nods and references to horror media and die hard horror fans are bound to appreciate every one they happen to catch. You can tell the people behind this show are horror fans from birth and they put a lot of effort into every review they make and I for one highly appreciate every little thing they put into this show. They currently have a little over 1400 subscribers but they deserve SO MUCH MORE. Also this show has one of the greatest opening themes I have ever heard.
Aside from his main show Dead West also reviews horror and monster themed cartoons on his Re-animated series and horror comic books on Graphic Violence. You can also check out the official website which has a bunch of neat stuff like bios of all the characters and reviews of horror themes not held on the show.
Screaming Soup is currently in its fourth season, said season is themed around Troma vs. Full Moon and itâs as awesome as it sounds!
I canât do this show justice just by talking about it. If your a fan of classic horror and monster movies then I cannot recommend this show enough! Itâs not an animated review show about southerners talking about schlocky horror films, Itâs Screaming Soup!!!
Rewarded myself for getting my latest podcast episode out by buying, playing, and completing, The Seance of Blake Manor. It is essentially a Knives Out whodunit game set in 1890s Ireland with Ghosts and Magic all done in a fantastic Mignola-esque art style. Heck it even plays like an interactive Graphic Novel at times. (Youtube Trailer here for you more visual folks)
This was one of my favorite games of the year, possibly of all time. Like solid top 10 faves potential. I want to go back and replay it to get all of the endings before making that call. BUT here is my quick breakdown of the game:
- Soundtrack: âââââ
- Voice Acting: ââââ
- Story: âââââ
- Art style: âââââ
- Ambience: âââââ
- MC with the last name WARD who can see spirits and helps them to move on from this plane of existence while dealing with forces beyond his comprehension during the transitional period of the 1890s: ââââââââââââ (Though I may need my people to chat with their people about copyright infringement. I kid. BUT I want to see if they would do a Dead West DLC/Game! I wish. Where's my genie?")
- Game mechanics/Puzzles: âââââ
All in all this was an insanely fun game, I sank 16 hours into my first play through. I saved almost everyone (1 died) and solved all but 2 of the mysteries because I supposedly did a thing out of order. EITHER WAY. I will be getting back to it to 100% the game. Something I have only done for a small handful of games. If you can swing it, it is on sale til the 5th of Jan! Or snag it on Humble Bundle!
I am going to be chasing this high for a while. #letmehelpwithaDLCforthis!