Duration - 85 minutes; Release Year - 2019; writer - Matthew Pope; star - Jared Ivers; ; Genre - Thriller.

Blood on her name streaming. Isnt this basically ‘the cellar. My name is Daniel. My last name isn’t important. I'm currently writing this on a burner phone, since I'm pretty sure I'm being tracked. I'd be fucking surprised if I wasn't. It's not safe to be at home, so I'm holed up at a friend's house. Though the thing is, I can't tell anyone. Because it's not the type of thing you just blurt out to someone. Except it's been lingering in the back of my mind. I haven't eaten or slept. I can barely fucking think straight. It's currently 1:45am and I'm wide awake. I've been sitting on my bed for what feels like forever, just staring at the wall, questioning myself. My goddamn sanity. So I've turned to you guys. I figured if I post it here, it'll be out there. And even if this sounds fucking crazy, at least others will know. Maybe someone will be able to help them. Because I can't. Not in my position, anyway. I'm just a fucking kid. Okay, so the first thing you must understand is that this was all an accident. I was just a normal guy. I'm a twenty year old college dropout and I'm fairly seclusive and keep to myself. I live with my parents. They both work a lot so it was mostly me. I've never had a criminal record, and I spend—or rather spent—most of my time either working, or mindlessly playing PlayStation games. I suffer from anxiety, so I don't have many friends; only the bare minimum. The friend I'm staying with now was kind enough to let me lodge for a few nights, but I aim to get as far away from home as possible. Okay, so the second thing you need to know is that I’ve never been into comic books. And you must be thinking, how? I'm a reclusive hermit who spends most of his time (and patience) on Assassin's Creed. Though to be honest, I've never really seen the appeal. Obviously I did when I was a kid. I loved the Spider-Man comics. But my mom got rid of them when I left for college. Anyway. Comic books. I'm not the greatest fan of them. Sure, I watched the Avengers movies to please classmates when I was growing up, but nothing really stuck out to me. Same for television. Mom has a Netflix subscription, but I've never found anything that looked good enough to watch. So I've never really paid much attention to it until now. My laptop is in front of me, frozen on the TV show I'm watching. I've never liked it. I'm not going to name the show, obviously. But I did know of it. The show was popular before it went off air for a year, before coming back with a whole new cast. Back then I'd never heard of them any of them. The show had catapulted them into stardom and was based on a long running comic book series. But we’ll get into that. My job was boring. Really fucking boring. I can’t name the TV company, but I'm going to call it "Glass Studios". Glass Studios is huge. It's known for a plethora of well known television shows, most of which I've never heard of. I've never had knowledge of what exactly my work did. I've never cared enough to take notice. When I told my mom I got the job at Glass Studios, she was ecstatic. I suppose that's because it's a big name. My job was pretty simple. If an employee managed to fuck up their computer, I was their saving grace. I was used to the usual. Most of the time people just forgot their passwords and got locked out of their account, or had misplaced files. That day I expected the norm. The call came in at lunch. I was in my office, gazing at my Mac background while trying not to fall asleep, and the phone rang. Now I'm not the most confident person on the phone, so I word-vomited some attempt at speech, asking the person to describe the problem. She was a woman called Mel, and I've dealt with her computer before. She's around my mom's age, and had no sense of humour when I jokingly asked her, "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Recently I've started watching a British TV show, "The IT crowd, ” which is like watching a mock up over-exaggeration of my own job. Mel didn't see the funny side. I told her it didn't matter, and after the longest awkward pause of my life, she explained that her computer was acting up, and that she "needed me ASAP. ” "That's what I'm here for! " I had said brightly, and she hung up. So without knowing what the specific problem was, I made my way over to her desk. My office is just next door. Mel had gone to lunch, as had most of the department. So it was just me and a dozen Macs for the next God knows how long. I settled in front of Mel's computer, pretty optimistic. Mel reminds me of my mother who yells that "The computer is getting a virus! " when something is downloading, or an ad has popped up. So I expected Mel's problem to be something along those lines. And I was right. When I grabbed the mouse the Mac background appeared, and right in the middle of the screen was an ad. It was something about dental insurance and was blocking the whole page. So I can see why it panicked Mel. Closing out of the advert, I smiled to myself. Job well done. That would have been the time I'd jump up and bounce back to my office, fairly happy with "fixing" Mel's computer. But something held me back. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that the whole room was empty. It filled me with a sudden rush of curiosity. Glancing at my watch, it was just after twelve. Lunch for the department normally lasted around an hour, so I had the whole room to myself, and sitting in front of me was Mel's computer. Looking back, I wish I stood up and walked away. But I didn't; I was curious. Though would you blame me? I worked for one of the biggest TV companies in the world and had an opportunity to get a glimpse of their work. Now I was excited. I expected ideas for shows, casting documents, and scripts. But when I had a nosy around Mel's files, there was nothing that caught my eye. Initially, I was right. I was looking at spreadsheets for show times, unfinished scripts, and market research. All the boring shit. I wanted the good stuff. I'm not a computer whizz or a hacker. I just know enough to get me a job in the IT. So when I dug a bit too deep, clicking into random folders, then into those files, and so on, a box finally popped up on screen, prompting me for a password. I can't even remember what I was looking for. I was just senselessly clicking, waiting for something shiny, for something to capture my eye. Mel's strawberry coloured notebook sitting on her desk in my peripheral wouldn't leave my thoughts as my gaze flicked through privacy policies and insurance documents. It might seem weird, but it was almost as if the damn thing was calling to me, challenging me to grab it. Time ticked by, and I was getting nowhere. It was becoming almost a chore and I was only awarded with several yellow triangles flashing up, telling me that the files were protected. Which made me wonder the obvious: why were they protected? The files didn't exactly look interesting. There were just pages and pages of invoices. The ones I tried to get into, quickly being blocked by an eruption of prompts, all demanding a password. Now that made me curious. It was almost as if the computer was fighting me, trying to defend its precious files. Tapping impatiently on the table, I had an idea. Mel's notebook was in my hands before I could think of repercussions. I flipped through it quickly, egged on by the ticking clock. It was a quarter past. I didn't have long. Finding the password wasn't as easy as I'd thought. As I suspected, Mel's little notebook was full of doodles and senseless scribbles, as if a toddler had gotten hold of it. After flipping through several depictions of Disney characters, I was greeted to the back of the pad. No passwords. Nothing. My blood boiled. This wasn't some kind of mission I was on, I was just messing about. But after looking through every nook and cranny on her desk, flipping over books and rifling through papers I'm pretty sure were super important, I hit another dead end. But it only motivated me to try harder. Think, I thought. The clock said quarter past, and I was running out of time. After another frustrating attempt at cracking the prompt boxes I figured it was time to give up. So, grabbing my jacket and jumping up, I leaned forward to close everything down, but I'd gotten up too fast and my head swam, a dizzying wave of nausea coming at full pelt. I stumbled into the desk, bumping my leg into one of the draw's metal handles. It fucking hurt, searing pain exploding in my knees. When I was ducking to hurriedly grab what looked like a work schedule off the floor, I noticed a second drawer had popped open. A secret compartment? Unable to hold in a giddy laugh, and the pain in my knee forgotten, I reached forward and pulled it open fully from where it had only bounced open slightly on the hinge. For a moment I stared at the contents, frowning. The draw was empty. Mostly. All except from one little black book. Snatching it up, I peered at it. The book looked so out of place on an explosion of floral notepads and family photos lining Mel's desk. It was a leather clad little thing I felt dirty holding. When I flicked through it, there were no doodles, scribbles or Disney characters. Every page was blank except the first, and there, to my confusion, was a series of lowercase letters and numbers. I didn't know what to think. Mel was my mom's age. She was probably sitting there every day mindlessly word processing. Was I crazy to think that she was something more? I didn't give myself time to think. Delving into Mel's secret compartment had only thrilled me further. I wanted to know more. I wanted to see what was so clearly being hidden away in plain sight. After making sure nobody was in the room, as well as shooting a paranoid glance at the security camera, my fingers suddenly had a mind of their own. I inputted the password and, to my delight, the stubborn prompt box disappeared, only for one singular window to pop up on the screen. I was expecting nuclear codes after what I’d been through to get the damn thing, so when it was just another list—this time alphabetised shows currently on the TV network—I was slightly disappointed. But I'd gotten so far. I was going to dig further until I found something that was worth all the damn hassle, including potentially losing my job. I found myself staring at several TV shows listed down the screen. There were ten in total, and I clicked on each one excitedly, double clicking far too many times. But there was nothing. Each click brought me to an empty folder, and as I made my way down the list, I grew progressively more frustrated. I was vibrating in my chair, fidgeting with the mouse. Every single one was empty. Which didn't make sense! Why protect empty files to that extent? Reaching the end of the list, I didn't hold much hope for the last TV show. But I was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a blank screen popping up like every other one, this time I was staring at one single folder labelled the name of the TV show, followed by; SUCCESS. I can't enclose the name of the show, for obvious reasons. Let's call it "Truth & Lies" because it's the most generic name I can think of. Thinking back to the others shows, I briefly wondered why this one was a so-called success. Truth & Lies didn't exactly break the barriers of filmmaking. In fact it was the opposite. It was an attempt at bringing a beloved comic book to life. As I said, I’m not a comic book person so I’ve never followed it, though it didn’t surprise me that they were making a gritty remake of some B grade superhero comic. Clicking into the folder, I felt a sudden sense of dread. But my gaze remained glued to the screen despite my stomach twisting itself into a frenzy. The mouse cursor morphed into a spinning rainbow wheel, and I fought to catch my breath. But I still didn't look away. Another window popped up. Another folder glaring at me through the screen. A throbbing pain began to arch its way across the back of my skull. “TEST ONE. ” What? The bad feeling grew greater, but I couldn't stop myself. My clammy hand was glued to the mouse. I could barely breathe. Click. “PARTICIPANTS. ” This time four names popped up, sorted alphabetically. I recognise all of them automatically. "What the fuck? " I said to myself, clicking the first name. A video player appeared this time, the spinning rainbow wheel struggled for a moment and with shaky hands I dug in my pants for my headphones and jammed them into the input. The video started. I found myself staring at a white room with, bleached beige bleeding into matching flooring. It reminded me of a hospital ward, but there was no door. There was a bed. Just a single bed in the middle of the room, and there was someone lying on it. A boy. He looked around my age. But his wrists and ankles were strapped down, his head nestled in a bed of pillows. He appeared to be asleep. But he didn't look comfortable. There were no blankets and he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that were almost an explosion of colour in a room so devoid of it. I stared hard at the screen. I was seeing things. Surely. It took me a few seconds to realise who the boy was. But I should have expected it. After all, it was his name I clicked on. I'm censoring his name to leave this all anonymous, because God knows what would happen if I told you his real name. I'm going to say his name is Mitchel, and his character’s name is Jack Murphy. Anyway, Mitchel’s fairly well known. Even I'd caught his name through word of mouth. It just didn't make sense to me that a celebrity boy was tied down like an animal. My first instinct was to close the video the second Mitchel moved. It looked like he was waking up. I flinched as if the video was live. But I have no idea when it was filmed. "Subject one, ” a voice crackled through a speaker. It made me jump. The voice was male, almost a grouch. He sounded around my dad's age. His tone was devoid of emotion, and I felt sick. Mitchel moved again, his arm which was strapped down jerked, fingers flexing, before he let out a disgruntled groan, followed by a sharp gasp. I had to see if the other files were the same. Pausing the video, I clicked on the other three and get the exact same situation: girls and boys of the same age strapped to the same bed. My heart was pounding in my ears. What did I find? What the hell was this? Clicking resume on Mitchel's video, I held my breath. Mitchel was struggling to get up and failing every time, his gasps for breath becoming progressively more hysterical, before the man's voice came through the speaker once again through garbled static. "Subject 1 has been successfully implanted with the device, " said the voice, followed by a detailed explanation of the boy's situation. By that point I was struggling to stay in the chair. I was trembling. I felt sick. I didn't want to continue watching, but it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. I couldn't look away. This wasn't a casting video or market research. This was some kind of medical procedure. And it was being done whether Mitchel liked it or not. "He seems to be experiencing difficulty with using speech, " the voice continued, crackling. "We have not yet activated the chip as the corresponding transmitter has only just been inserted into the base of his skull. ” Mitchel understood what was happening. His eyes were open and dilated, flickering eyelids squinting at the camera. His lip was trembling, but he didn't say anything. "Young man, can you hear me? " the voice demanded. Mitchel didn't move for a moment, before speaking. It was a low whimper. His voice was thick, as if he'd just been fed a cocktail of relaxants and sleeping pills. "What..? " There was an accent there, but at that point I couldn't decipher which one. "What did you do to my... " He trailed off again, and his expression splintered with pain—no, agony. "What did you do to my..? " "Do try and calm down, Jack, ” said the voice, and something hit me, a sickening wave of nausea. The man had called Mitchel by his character's name. Mitchel groaned. "What did you do to me? " The boy sounded slightly stronger, but his eyelids were still flickering, like he was on the edge of sleep. The voice, or doctor, or whoever the hell he was, I didn't care, seemed to answer straight away. “You signed a contract, ” he replied curtly. “Do you remember? ” “No? ” The boy tried to sit up, and he managed to balance himself on his elbows before he collapsed back onto the pile of pillows caressing what I realised, bile burning in my throat, was a bandaged head. The boy turned dazed brown eyes to the camera, and I saw confusion and fear beginning to flood his face as the drugs he'd presumably been given began to wear off. “I’m not... ” The boy seemed to finally grasp hold of reality, and let out a scoff of weak laughter. “This… this is a joke right? ” "No, Jack. This is not a joke. " "Wait, Jack?! " Mitchel struggled again, this time more violently. "I'm not… that's not... " He seemed to be short of breath, struggling to speak over the man who was already talking. “For documentation purposes, the date is July the third, two-thousand-and seventeen, and the time is three thirty seven. ” The voice ignored Mitchel when he let out another loud and disgruntled sob. “We are currently in the stages of phase one, starting with naming the subject. We're in the beta stages, so we expect obvious complications. " “Wait, ” the boy said weakly. The mystery of this so-called experiment finally coming to light. “Are you… are you calling me by my character’s name? ” The boy seemed fully awake now, whether he had been heavily drugged or not. “There's no need to be alarmed, Jack, ” the voice continued. “This is just standard procedure. Now, you're authorised to listen to what I'm about to tell you. You signed a contract which holds you to that, do you understand me? ” I watched the rebellion dissolve in the boy’s expression, making way for terror. “What contract?! ” he hissed. "What fucking contract? " Mitchel tried to jump up, but the bindings worked like elastic, springing him back onto the bed. “Under the contract 309. 75 that you signed yesterday under the name Mitchel Mars, you agreed to participate in Project Daffodil and fully subject yourself to all upcoming and past procedures. ” The voice seems to ignore Mitchel's cry of confusion. “What? ” He tried once again to sit up but was yanked back down like a rag doll. “You-you got me to sign a contract when I was wasted?! ” There was a small pause. “We didn't think you and the others would willingly sign the contract if you knew what you were getting into. ” “So you drugged me?! ” “Jack—” the voice crackled with impatience. “I'm not Jack! ” Mitchel yelled back, trying to squirm his way out of the bonds that held him down. “Why… why are you calling me that? That's not my name! ” The boy started screaming, and I had to make a decision. Did I shut everything down and run? Or did I continue watching? The video had nearly ended. I fast forwarded it, most of which was Mitchel yelling and screaming, his face flushed crimson, eyes wide with terror. "I'm not Jack! I’m not-I'm not Jack! " he shrieked over and over again. "My name is Mitchel! Do you hear me? " He was crying, struggling, whimpering, but the phantom voice ignored him. A sudden ear piercing shriek sounded out, rattling my ears. But the boy didn't react to it. In fact, he didn't do anything. He stopped squirming, trying to escape, and just flopped down on the bed like dead weight, his straining arms going limp. Mitchel's eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling. With my heart pounding through my chest I leaned close till my nose was touching the screen, trying to detect movement. But Mitchel didn't move. "The device has been activated, " said the man. I could detect excitement in his tone. "Let's try that again, shall we? What is your name? " There was a pause. My heart was in my throat. I was ready to throw up. "I don't… I don't know. " The boy's voice was a confused whimper. To my relief Mitchel's jaw slowly clenched, life returning to his expression. I thought he'd say his name, but his mouth snapped shut. "Young man, I told you your name a few minutes ago. Would you mind telling it me again? " The boy stared directly into the camera, his expression blank. Anything that was there, any rebellion, any trace of humanity, of the terrified kid he had been a few moments ago, was gone. I was only seeing his character. "Jack. " he said softly. Whatever accent he had gone. His American drawl sounded wrong. "My name is Jack. " "Jack what? " There was another pause. "Jack Murphy. " That’s it... I guess. Whoever these fuckers are know it’s me, clearly, and they’re after me. I’m laying low, but I don’t know how long I have. I guess, this isn’t a cry for help. Because yes, it does sound fucking crazy. It’s just- when you watch this TV show, just think about these kids. Because they’re trapped, crying out for help. And nobody can hear them.

Blood on Her namen. Blood on her name 2019 trailer. Idea of Final Destination fused with The Brand New Testament's daughter's act. This is like the house at the end of the street. litteraly. Blood on her name. Blood on her name plot. Good vibe. A European remake because if Hollywood done this it would be SJW crinche crap. Omg Im from Montreal and I cannot wait for this film. When they coming out with a new album. Dye your hair blonde Your name is sadie and a psychopath locks them in a doll house with all the windows locked with wooden blocks and this all happened because of a guy she met online THIS IS SOOO PLL. The sessions revisited.

Never thought I would see him another movie rather then twilight. Blood on her name watch. If your girlfriend was looking over your shoulder in horror like that, would you take that long to turn around? Nice directing. Diversity is weakness. USA will dissolve into smaller countries. Blood on her name embargo.

I thought i covered my tracks well. The perfect crime. How could anything have went wrong? I even disposed of the murder weapons. After all, it was a calculated and well thought out crime. Never would anyone suspect me. Took all the proper precautions so as to not arise suspicion. No one saw through my shield of darkness and this anger boiling deep inside. Ever since i was little, it's always been there. Like a shadow you cannot escape. My dark follower. It was created by (him). My father was a drinker, a boozehound who would come home from work and everyone would be on their best behavior. He worked at an automotive factory if i recall correctly. My sister and i hid in closets some nights when he would get so mad, you'd hear glass shattering. Yelling at mom. Throwing bottles at her. His temper would rise from nothing it seemed. Nothing was ever perfect for him. We were in constant fear. Only times we had peace in the house was when he was gone. I often slept with a Louisville Slugger next to me in complete fear that me or sis would be next. Even tho she was older than me. She fled to me for were so young and innocent back then. I only wanted to protect them. Only, i was too weak and little to do much. "You can't harm the devil" my mom would always tell me. On the worst nights, sis and i would sleep in the attic. It was however quite difficult to keep coming up with excuses as to where all these bruises came from. Wearing scarfs and pants during the summer must have looked ridiculous. Though everyone probably just thought i was weird. Years go by and not much changes. Child Protective Services weren't what they are today. This continues for far too long. Mom was terrified of him but eventually divorced this monster and filed a permanent restraining order. Goes to court and gets full custody of us. A hard fought battle as dad was the bread winner at the time. Now, in our teens we have somewhat of a normal life. Friends, going out to the movies and such. Getting into trouble every now and then. Even a few run ins with local police. I'm guilty, had a few bad friends. Well bad influences anyway. It started with sling shots and air soft guns. Cutting peoples cable lines. Our menacing crimes escalated from there. Never anything too harsh. Although it was enough to be chased by neighborhood watch on a few occasions. Ah, the good ole days... Needing a way to stay out of trouble and make a few bucks to help mom, i begin work at this automotive shop. "Big Johns Auto Repair" off of old third street. I wanted a job and was interested in cars. Growing up, i tinkered with electronics and even my dads car when he wasn't looking. Despite the screaming and constant beatings. I learned a good number from watching him work on people's cars on the side. Extra money, but for what? He was well paid at his job. He may never have said it, hell he certainly didn't show it. But i could tell dad loved me. Dad let me watch him work on cars and even sometimes helped. I couldn't talk though. I guess i never stopped talking. Being 5 i couldn't understand why he was always so angry. From the outside looking in, he had everything you'd want. Nice house, beautiful family. Nice cars. Friends. He really did blend in. Had everyone fooled. Dad had his demons, for sure. One day i confronted him. At the time 19 years old. "Dad, what did you do with all that extra money you made on the side" i asked firmly. "There's me and then there's real evil son, hopefully you'll never have to meet them" he exclaimed. (A confused look on my face i ask quizzically) "Them"? He sits me down in front of him with a stern expression of his face. "Back before you were born i was involved with some really bad people, The Devils Minions Motorcycle Club. Really, they're more of a gang. At first i was just a prospect. The initiation process was to stab or kill an opposing member of our rival motorcycle club" he explains. Dad continues to tell me he was slowly working his way up the ranks, Ran drugs, got into bar fights. Even dug some holes out in deserted fields for future "residents". That was until he discovered the higher ups were running an underground prostitution and sex slave / human trafficking operation. In the basement of the Devils Minions main club he hides as he hears the boss and some more men make their way down the stairs. The men begin to discuss who is next. "Hey what about Harrys daughter, shes getting to be that age" one man said. Absolutely horrified, my dad gasps and quickly covers his mouth. Hiding behind some old furniture the men walk over there and see him lying there under a blanket. Dad plays dead acting like he was unconscious as they remove the blanket. Picking him up and throwing him down on the couch. Questioning him wanting to know how much he heard. He tells them he doesn't know anything. They beat and torture him until he cracks. Finally revealing everything he heard. Threatening his life and the family's. He is warned that if any of what he heard gets out. His daughter would be next. He was ordered to do more "work" for them and make a certain amount of money for their operation. To keep them at bay, dad did what he had to. Even if that meant breaking the law or just working on cars on the side. He struggled each month to come up with their demands, the payments constantly increased. He begged and pleaded with them for mercy. To please not take his daughter or wife. The Boss called to come see my dad. So he left. Apparently, he really was a sick son of a bitch. The boss begins telling dad on the car ride over that if he can't pay, his family will. "You want to prove your allegiance to this organization? " the boss asks. "Of course" my father replies. "Show me your loyalty then, i want you to go home and harm your own family. " My dad stunned and unsure of how to answer. "I can't do that, he yells"!!! The boss grabs him by the arm holding a gun against his stomach. "You're going to do it, or i promise I'll see to it your wife and pretty little daughter are passed around like a thanksgiving pie, you got it?!?!? " My father in total fear for his own life and ours as well. Tears in his eyes and voice cracking. "Okay, I'll do it". He cries. "Good, ill be sending enforcers over to check in on you and your little family, now get the hell out of here". And so it went for years my dad tells me. "What?!? You cant be serious Dad, we have to do something!! " I scream. "No son, they are far too powerful. Even the police and joint task force can't touch them. " Horrified, i look at him with disbelief and blood in my eyes. Now im only seeing red. Something must be done. Dad and i grow apart once more. He left the state and i haven't seen or spoken to him in a long time. I'm older now have been spending alot of time training. At the gym, the indoor shooting ranges. Even mixed martial arts. I will have my vengeance for all those girls and the families of those affected. These men must pay. Running everyday keeping up with my cardio and constantly using all of my downtime searching for weapons without a serial number with a silencer. I have a lot to learn... You see, you can't just buy a silencer for a pistol and put it on there. You need a new barrel that bored specifically for the weapon. Each barrel for every gun has a unique pattern, as is designed by the manufacture. And if you use the proper channels, you'll first need to find an authorized dealer with a class 3 firearms license. Then fill out forms provided by the ATF. Send in those forms to the chief of police and provide a reasonable explanation why you need a suppressor. It's a huge pain in the ass and the process can take up to six months. Hell, in many states it's not legal at all to own one. Thank god for rednecks. I live in a non registration state. Essentially this means you could literally buy a gun from a friend or family member. It doesn't even have to be registered to you. However, i don't exactly know too many people with illegally modified weapons. So, I go online searching forums and different websites. Even chat rooms trying to locate an underground dealer to outfit my new found "hobby". The clear net isn't coming up with much results. I learn about the deep web and take all the necessary precautions to ensure i won't be tracked or hacked. Downloading the browser making sure my firewall is secure. Even using a DNS Proxy server and VPN. I begin clicking on links. Just about what you'd expect. Mostly dead sites or empty ones. Drugs and escort services even. No "red rooms" or kill sites like many others have suggestes. Eventually finding a website called "Dons Firearm Emporium" Well not exactly subtle, is it. I indulge and click of course. Seeing a wide range of weapons, everything from. 22 caliber pistols to the 50 Caliber browning machine gun and even the M24 Sniper Rifle. I personally liked the Beretta 9MM. I trained with it. Loved the rubber Hogue grip, the way it feels in my hands. The ambidextrous safety. Lifted dotted sights, hell mine even had the red laser pointer kind of like"The Punisher" gun from Resident Evil 4. Yeah I'm a gamer. Sue me. This particular one i wanted from the site had the suppressor, extended 20 round magazines and flashlight. All black on black, of course. This one is perfect (i thought). I set up my account anonymously and transfer funds for the currency exchange into bit coin. I make the transaction. Receive a confirmation of payment. A few weeks later an unmarked box appears on my front porch. I retrieve my handy pocket knife and carefully open the package. A note on top reads "Thank you for your business, do enjoy your product and happy hunting" Well how the hell did they know what i was planning? Oh don't worry, i will ( i smile with a demented look on my face) Time to make a trip to the store and stock up on ammo. I arrive at our local big box store. Walk around agitated for a few minutes. "Damnit, does anyone ever keep these in stock? " I ask the cashier. "What are you looking for? " The man asks. "I need a large supply of 9MM target/range ammo and hollow points (124 Grain) as well. " I explain. "Oh you need to go down the street to 'The Armory' they have everything you're looking for. " Thanks i tell him. I leave and head down that way to stock up on 'hunting supplies'. Searching the various inventory i make a nice purchase. I even bought a Rambo knife and a Level 2 Kevlar Flak Jacket. Which will protect against most commonly used weapons. Tracking down my dad, i call around trying to get his new number. Finally finding him online, i get his info and call him. Damn it's been so long. Hope he will talk to me. "Hey dad, it's me. Remember when you were telling me the story of your old life and affiliations. Do you happen to remember any of their names"? i inquire. "Not over the phone son, I'll drive up to you tomorrow and we can meet up". The next day comes and we meet for lunch. "Why the hell do you want their names, im trying to let that part of my life go and let the past be the past, don't you understand? " He says with a gravelly voice. "I forgive you dad, for all that happened, i don't hate you, i hate them. I want to make them pay" i urge. "Son that was over 25 years ago, im not even sure if any of them are alive or if they can be found. " He tells me. "I want their names damnit, our childhood and innocence were taken from us by these evil pieces of shit, i will have my revenge" My dad looks at me very seriously, doesn't say a word. Reaches in his pocket. Grabs a paper and slides it across the table. I open the paper and see a list of about 15 names on it. "Is this them"? i ask. He nods his head. Gets up and leaves. "Thank you dad, i will make this right, i promise!! " Thoughts begin forming in my mind. Ok, whos first? I look over the list and pick one. Oh here were go. Terry "The Boss" Parsons. This ought to be good. A quick search reveals he is 58 - Male lives 23 miles from me in a remote home deep in the woods. I need more supplies making my way to the nearest hardware store i pick up roles of duct tape, Several pairs of gloves, a shovel and heavy duty plastic wrap with High-density, tear resistant, clear durable film that is treated for excellent paint overspray capture all the blood. Its Twelve foot film that accommodates smaller or larger cars. Must be at least 0. 4 Millimeters. A strong and durable knife set. (You can skip this part if you'd like) I need the following: Mundial Future 6-1/2-Inch Stainless-Steel Cleaver Mundial Future 8-Inch Stainless-Steel Chef’s Knife Mundial Future 8-Inch Stainless-Steel Bread Knife with Serrated Edge Global 10-Inch Spatula (modified into a fillet knife) Thermo Scientific Shandon Rachiotomy Bone Saw Mundial Future 6-Inch Stainless-Steel Flexible Boning Knife Mundial Future 6-Inch Stainless-Steel Chef’s Knife Messermeister 10-Inch Poultry Shears Satterlee 12-Inch Bone Saw with 9-Inch Blade After awhile i have everything i need. Now comes the fun part. I find Terrys house and learn his habits. When he gets up, how often he leaves the house. Who he talks to. What his schedule is like. I follow him daily, but keep my distance so as to not be spotted. I never thought tailing someone would be so much work. However when it's a hardened criminal... i suppose it's quite different. Terry is careful to not do much business out in the open. Doesn't even own a cell phone. Everything goes directly through him and only in person. He and his contacts meet in this secure building with no windows far into the woods. If i get too close ill draw unwanted attention. So i park nearby in a camp site. Get my supplies and i watch them from a safe distance. In my mind going over all the details. Planning it over and over again. Could i set fire to the building once they're all inside? No it would draw too much attention. Too risky. I’ll have to take them one at a time. Starting with the boss who made my life a living hell all those years ago. Terry, you're mine! The men start pouring out of this dilapidated building one at a time. Terry being the last to leave. He begins to lock up the old raggedy door with this weird lock ive never seen before. It appears to be some type of cast iron lock. Almost like shackles used for prisoners long long ago. What the hell is he hiding in there? I have to know. He is going to have to wait, if only for one more night. I wait until nightfall and approach the building with my tools. Attempting to pry the door open, break the lock and even pick it. With little to no luck I'll have to return with more powerful tools. Back now inbthe woods and much darker now... Eventually it budges after i smash a hole in the wooden door and bust the hinges off with a 8 pound sledgehammer. I hear muffled crying. Its pitch black. Walking around feeling for a lightswitch. Tapping on the walls. I cant see a damn thing. I light up my flashlight. Only to be greeted by rows and rows of metal beds bolted down to the floorboard with women and young girls in chains pleading for me not to hurt them. Buckets of filth everywhere coupled with a horrid stench. The girls, many of them emaciated with pale faces. Appearing very ill and malnutrioned. Horrified of what I've just found i quickly begin using bolt cutters to free them one by one. Many of them so weak and sick and frail. Barely able to walk or even stand. I point my flashlight towards the doorway and tell them they are all free. Knowing some of them won't make it on their own. I run back to the campsite and make an anonymous call to the park rangers. They arrive shortly after and canvas the area. I gather my gear and leave the forest. There is a massive search the next morning. Volunteers, park rangers local police and state police joined in. K9 units and helicopters swarmed the area. The FBI is dispatched to lead the search since there were children involved. Planning my next move still shocked by the brutality and conditions these girls were kept and held in. I now have to learn the bosses new patterns as he is on the run. Little does he know, it isn't just from authorities. But from me. I'm following his every move waiting for the perfect time to strike. This sick bastard will get what's coming to him, i swear it. It's become my obsession….

Blood on Her names. Blood on Her name search. Blood on her name movie trailer. This movie would honestly make me so angry on her behalf. Thank you for sharing the full movie. Blood on her name 2019 720p. Blood on her name release date. Goúd? 👁 wanna c it 🔥👍🌿. Thx u 🙌😤💀♎... むっちゃかっこいいやん♥. That ringtone will forever haunt me. Blood on her name film. Blood on Her name name. Lol @4:25 yet psycho at 4:56. @nickluvheat ah well dnt judge by the name bro. When your a murderer but you got a conscience he got a family.

Blood on her name wiki. Blood on her name trailer deutsch. Blood on Her name index. My name is Daniel. My last name isn’t important. I'm currently writing this on a burner phone, since I'm pretty sure I'm being tracked. I'd be fucking surprised if I wasn't. It's not safe to be at home, so I'm holed up at a friend's house. Though the thing is, I can't tell anyone. Because it's not the type of thing you just blurt out to someone. Except it's been lingering in the back of my mind. I haven't eaten or slept. I can barely fucking think straight. It's currently 1:45am and I'm wide awake. I've been sitting on my bed for what feels like forever, just staring at the wall, questioning myself. My goddamn sanity. So I've turned to you guys. I figured if I post it here, it'll be out there. And even if this sounds fucking crazy, at least others will know. Maybe someone will be able to help them. Because I can't. Not in my position, anyway. I'm just a fucking kid. Okay, so the first thing you must understand is that this was all an accident. I was just a normal guy. I'm a twenty year old college dropout and I'm fairly seclusive and keep to myself. I live with my parents. They both work a lot so it was mostly me. I've never had a criminal record, and I spend—or rather spent—most of my time either working, or mindlessly playing PlayStation games. I suffer from anxiety, so I don't have many friends; only the bare minimum. The friend I'm staying with now was kind enough to let me lodge for a few nights, but I aim to get as far away from home as possible. Okay, so the second thing you need to know is that I’ve never been into comic books. And you must be thinking, how? I'm a reclusive hermit who spends most of his time (and patience) on Assassin's Creed. Though to be honest, I've never really seen the appeal. Obviously I did when I was a kid. I loved the Spider-Man comics. But my mom got rid of them when I left for college. Anyway. Comic books. I'm not the greatest fan of them. Sure, I watched the Avengers movies to please classmates when I was growing up, but nothing really stuck out to me. Same for television. Mom has a Netflix subscription, but I've never found anything that looked good enough to watch. So I've never really paid much attention to it until now. My laptop is in front of me, frozen on the TV show I'm watching. I've never liked it. I'm not going to name the show, obviously. But I did know of it. The show was popular before it went off air for a year, before coming back with a whole new cast. Back then I'd never heard of them any of them. The show had catapulted them into stardom and was based on a long running comic book series. But we’ll get into that. My job was boring. Really fucking boring. I can’t name the TV company, but I'm going to call it "Glass Studios". Glass Studios is huge. It's known for a plethora of well known television shows, most of which I've never heard of. I've never had knowledge of what exactly my work did. I've never cared enough to take notice. When I told my mom I got the job at Glass Studios, she was ecstatic. I suppose that's because it's a big name. My job was pretty simple. If an employee managed to fuck up their computer, I was their saving grace. I was used to the usual. Most of the time people just forgot their passwords and got locked out of their account, or had misplaced files. That day I expected the norm. The call came in at lunch. I was in my office, gazing at my Mac background while trying not to fall asleep, and the phone rang. Now I'm not the most confident person on the phone, so I word-vomited some attempt at speech, asking the person to describe the problem. She was a woman called Mel, and I've dealt with her computer before. She's around my mom's age, and had no sense of humour when I jokingly asked her, "Have you tried turning it off and on again? " Recently I've started watching a British TV show, "The IT crowd, ” which is like watching a mock up over-exaggeration of my own job. Mel didn't see the funny side. I told her it didn't matter, and after the longest awkward pause of my life, she explained that her computer was acting up, and that she "needed me ASAP. ” "That's what I'm here for! " I had said brightly, and she hung up. So without knowing what the specific problem was, I made my way over to her desk. My office is just next door. Mel had gone to lunch, as had most of the department. So it was just me and a dozen Macs for the next God knows how long. I settled in front of Mel's computer, pretty optimistic. Mel reminds me of my mother who yells that "The computer is getting a virus! " when something is downloading, or an ad has popped up. So I expected Mel's problem to be something along those lines. And I was right. When I grabbed the mouse the Mac background appeared, and right in the middle of the screen was an ad. It was something about dental insurance and was blocking the whole page. So I can see why it panicked Mel. Closing out of the advert, I smiled to myself. Job well done. That would have been the time I'd jump up and bounce back to my office, fairly happy with "fixing" Mel's computer. But something held me back. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that the whole room was empty. It filled me with a sudden rush of curiosity. Glancing at my watch, it was just after twelve. Lunch for the department normally lasted around an hour, so I had the whole room to myself, and sitting in front of me was Mel's computer. Looking back, I wish I stood up and walked away. But I didn't; I was curious. Though would you blame me? I worked for one of the biggest TV companies in the world and had an opportunity to get a glimpse of their work. Now I was excited. I expected ideas for shows, casting documents, and scripts. But when I had a nosy around Mel's files, there was nothing that caught my eye. Initially, I was right. I was looking at spreadsheets for show times, unfinished scripts, and market research. All the boring shit. I wanted the good stuff. I'm not a computer whizz or a hacker. I just know enough to get me a job in the IT. So when I dug a bit too deep, clicking into random folders, then into those files, and so on, a box finally popped up on screen, prompting me for a password. I can't even remember what I was looking for. I was just senselessly clicking, waiting for something shiny, for something to capture my eye. Mel's strawberry coloured notebook sitting on her desk in my peripheral wouldn't leave my thoughts as my gaze flicked through privacy policies and insurance documents. It might seem weird, but it was almost as if the damn thing was calling to me, challenging me to grab it. Time ticked by, and I was getting nowhere. It was becoming almost a chore and I was only awarded with several yellow triangles flashing up, telling me that the files were protected. Which made me wonder the obvious: why were they protected? The files didn't exactly look interesting. There were just pages and pages of invoices. The ones I tried to get into, quickly being blocked by an eruption of prompts, all demanding a password. Now that made me curious. It was almost as if the computer was fighting me, trying to defend its precious files. Tapping impatiently on the table, I had an idea. Mel's notebook was in my hands before I could think of repercussions. I flipped through it quickly, egged on by the ticking clock. It was a quarter past. I didn't have long. Finding the password wasn't as easy as I'd thought. As I suspected, Mel's little notebook was full of doodles and senseless scribbles, as if a toddler had gotten hold of it. After flipping through several depictions of Disney characters, I was greeted to the back of the pad. No passwords. Nothing. My blood boiled. This wasn't some kind of mission I was on, I was just messing about. But after looking through every nook and cranny on her desk, flipping over books and rifling through papers I'm pretty sure were super important, I hit another dead end. But it only motivated me to try harder. Think, I thought. The clock said quarter past, and I was running out of time. After another frustrating attempt at cracking the prompt boxes I figured it was time to give up. So, grabbing my jacket and jumping up, I leaned forward to close everything down, but I'd gotten up too fast and my head swam, a dizzying wave of nausea coming at full pelt. I stumbled into the desk, bumping my leg into one of the draw's metal handles. It fucking hurt, searing pain exploding in my knees. When I was ducking to hurriedly grab what looked like a work schedule off the floor, I noticed a second drawer had popped open. A secret compartment? Unable to hold in a giddy laugh, and the pain in my knee forgotten, I reached forward and pulled it open fully from where it had only bounced open slightly on the hinge. For a moment I stared at the contents, frowning. The draw was empty. Mostly. All except from one little black book. Snatching it up, I peered at it. The book looked so out of place on an explosion of floral notepads and family photos lining Mel's desk. It was a leather clad little thing I felt dirty holding. When I flicked through it, there were no doodles, scribbles or Disney characters. Every page was blank except the first, and there, to my confusion, was a series of lowercase letters and numbers. I didn't know what to think. Mel was my mom's age. She was probably sitting there every day mindlessly word processing. Was I crazy to think that she was something more? I didn't give myself time to think. Delving into Mel's secret compartment had only thrilled me further. I wanted to know more. I wanted to see what was so clearly being hidden away in plain sight. After making sure nobody was in the room, as well as shooting a paranoid glance at the security camera, my fingers suddenly had a mind of their own. I inputted the password and, to my delight, the stubborn prompt box disappeared, only for one singular window to pop up on the screen. I was expecting nuclear codes after what I’d been through to get the damn thing, so when it was just another list—this time alphabetised shows currently on the TV network—I was slightly disappointed. But I'd gotten so far. I was going to dig further until I found something that was worth all the damn hassle, including potentially losing my job. I found myself staring at several TV shows listed down the screen. There were ten in total, and I clicked on each one excitedly, double clicking far too many times. But there was nothing. Each click brought me to an empty folder, and as I made my way down the list, I grew progressively more frustrated. I was vibrating in my chair, fidgeting with the mouse. Every single one was empty. Which didn't make sense! Why protect empty files to that extent? Reaching the end of the list, I didn't hold much hope for the last TV show. But I was pleasantly surprised. Instead of a blank screen popping up like every other one, this time I was staring at one single folder labelled the name of the TV show, followed by; SUCCESS. I can't enclose the name of the show, for obvious reasons. Let's call it "Truth & Lies" because it's the most generic name I can think of. Thinking back to the others shows, I briefly wondered why this one was a so-called success. Truth & Lies didn't exactly break the barriers of filmmaking. In fact it was the opposite. It was an attempt at bringing a beloved comic book to life. As I said, I’m not a comic book person so I’ve never followed it, though it didn’t surprise me that they were making a gritty remake of some B grade superhero comic. Clicking into the folder, I felt a sudden sense of dread. But my gaze remained glued to the screen despite my stomach twisting itself into a frenzy. The mouse cursor morphed into a spinning rainbow wheel, and I fought to catch my breath. But I still didn't look away. Another window popped up. Another folder glaring at me through the screen. A throbbing pain began to arch its way across the back of my skull. “TEST ONE. ” What? The bad feeling grew greater, but I couldn't stop myself. My clammy hand was glued to the mouse. I could barely breathe. Click. “PARTICIPANTS. ” This time four names popped up, sorted alphabetically. I recognise all of them automatically. "What the fuck? " I said to myself, clicking the first name. A video player appeared this time, the spinning rainbow wheel struggled for a moment and with shaky hands I dug in my pants for my headphones and jammed them into the input. The video started. I found myself staring at a white room with, bleached beige bleeding into matching flooring. It reminded me of a hospital ward, but there was no door. There was a bed. Just a single bed in the middle of the room, and there was someone lying on it. A boy. He looked around my age. But his wrists and ankles were strapped down, his head nestled in a bed of pillows. He appeared to be asleep. But he didn't look comfortable. There were no blankets and he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that were almost an explosion of colour in a room so devoid of it. I stared hard at the screen. I was seeing things. Surely. It took me a few seconds to realise who the boy was. But I should have expected it. After all, it was his name I clicked on. I'm censoring his name to leave this all anonymous, because God knows what would happen if I told you his real name. I'm going to say his name is Mitchel, and his character’s name is Jack Murphy. Anyway, Mitchel’s fairly well known. Even I'd caught his name through word of mouth. It just didn't make sense to me that a celebrity boy was tied down like an animal. My first instinct was to close the video the second Mitchel moved. It looked like he was waking up. I flinched as if the video was live. But I have no idea when it was filmed. "Subject one, ” a voice crackled through a speaker. It made me jump. The voice was male, almost a grouch. He sounded around my dad's age. His tone was devoid of emotion, and I felt sick. Mitchel moved again, his arm which was strapped down jerked, fingers flexing, before he let out a disgruntled groan, followed by a sharp gasp. I had to see if the other files were the same. Pausing the video, I clicked on the other three and get the exact same situation: girls and boys of the same age strapped to the same bed. My heart was pounding in my ears. What did I find? What the hell was this? Clicking resume on Mitchel's video, I held my breath. Mitchel was struggling to get up and failing every time, his gasps for breath becoming progressively more hysterical, before the man's voice came through the speaker once again through garbled static. "Subject 1 has been successfully implanted with the device, " said the voice, followed by a detailed explanation of the boy's situation. By that point I was struggling to stay in the chair. I was trembling. I felt sick. I didn't want to continue watching, but it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. I couldn't look away. This wasn't a casting video or market research. This was some kind of medical procedure. And it was being done whether Mitchel liked it or not. "He seems to be experiencing difficulty with using speech, " the voice continued, crackling. "We have not yet activated the chip as the corresponding transmitter has only just been inserted into the base of his skull. ” Mitchel understood what was happening. His eyes were open and dilated, flickering eyelids squinting at the camera. His lip was trembling, but he didn't say anything. "Young man, can you hear me? " the voice demanded. Mitchel didn't move for a moment, before speaking. It was a low whimper. His voice was thick, as if he'd just been fed a cocktail of relaxants and sleeping pills. "What..? " There was an accent there, but at that point I couldn't decipher which one. "What did you do to my... " He trailed off again, and his expression splintered with pain—no, agony. "What did you do to my..? " "Do try and calm down, Jack, ” said the voice, and something hit me, a sickening wave of nausea. The man had called Mitchel by his character's name. Mitchel groaned. "What did you do to me? " The boy sounded slightly stronger, but his eyelids were still flickering, like he was on the edge of sleep. The voice, or doctor, or whoever the hell he was, I didn't care, seemed to answer straight away. “You signed a contract, ” he replied curtly. “Do you remember? ” “No? ” The boy tried to sit up, and he managed to balance himself on his elbows before he collapsed back onto the pile of pillows caressing what I realised, bile burning in my throat, was a bandaged head. The boy turned dazed brown eyes to the camera, and I saw confusion and fear beginning to flood his face as the drugs he'd presumably been given began to wear off. “I’m not... ” The boy seemed to finally grasp hold of reality, and let out a scoff of weak laughter. “This… this is a joke right? ” "No, Jack. This is not a joke. " "Wait, Jack?! " Mitchel struggled again, this time more violently. "I'm not… that's not... " He seemed to be short of breath, struggling to speak over the man who was already talking. “For documentation purposes, the date is July the third, two-thousand-and seventeen, and the time is three thirty seven. ” The voice ignored Mitchel when he let out another loud and disgruntled sob. “We are currently in the stages of phase one, starting with naming the subject. We're in the beta stages, so we expect obvious complications. " “Wait, ” the boy said weakly. The mystery of this so-called experiment finally coming to light. “Are you… are you calling me by my character’s name? ” The boy seemed fully awake now, whether he had been heavily drugged or not. “There's no need to be alarmed, Jack, ” the voice continued. “This is just standard procedure. Now, you're authorised to listen to what I'm about to tell you. You signed a contract which holds you to that, do you understand me? ” I watched the rebellion dissolve in the boy’s expression, making way for terror. “What contract?! ” he hissed. "What fucking contract? " Mitchel tried to jump up, but the bindings worked like elastic, springing him back onto the bed. “Under the contract 309. 75 that you signed yesterday under the name Mitchel Mars, you agreed to participate in Project Daffodil and fully subject yourself to all upcoming and past procedures. ” The voice seems to ignore Mitchel's cry of confusion. “What? ” He tried once again to sit up but was yanked back down like a rag doll. “You-you got me to sign a contract when I was wasted?! ” There was a small pause. “We didn't think you and the others would willingly sign the contract if you knew what you were getting into. ” “So you drugged me?! ” “Jack—” the voice crackled with impatience. “I'm not Jack! ” Mitchel yelled back, trying to squirm his way out of the bonds that held him down. “Why… why are you calling me that? That's not my name! ” The boy started screaming, and I had to make a decision. Did I shut everything down and run? Or did I continue watching? The video had nearly ended. I fast forwarded it, most of which was Mitchel yelling and screaming, his face flushed crimson, eyes wide with terror. "I'm not Jack! I’m not-I'm not Jack! " he shrieked over and over again. "My name is Mitchel! Do you hear me? " He was crying, struggling, whimpering, but the phantom voice ignored him. A sudden ear piercing shriek sounded out, rattling my ears. But the boy didn't react to it. In fact, he didn't do anything. He stopped squirming, trying to escape, and just flopped down on the bed like dead weight, his straining arms going limp. Mitchel's eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling. With my heart pounding through my chest I leaned close till my nose was touching the screen, trying to detect movement. But Mitchel didn't move. "The device has been activated, " said the man. I could detect excitement in his tone. "Let's try that again, shall we? What is your name? " There was a pause. My heart was in my throat. I was ready to throw up. "I don't… I don't know. " The boy's voice was a confused whimper. To my relief Mitchel's jaw slowly clenched, life returning to his expression. I thought he'd say his name, but his mouth snapped shut. "Young man, I told you your name a few minutes ago. Would you mind telling it me again? " The boy stared directly into the camera, his expression blank. Anything that was there, any rebellion, any trace of humanity, of the terrified kid he had been a few moments ago, was gone. I was only seeing his character. "Jack. " he said softly. Whatever accent he had gone. His American drawl sounded wrong. "My name is Jack. " "Jack what? " There was another pause. "Jack Murphy. ".

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Blood on her name yellow veil. Blood on her name 2019 download. Respect from hungary:D. Here we have two very distinct and very obvious signs from the Universe about Donald Trump and what he is and what he's come to do. The first sign involves 3 books. 2 are children's books that follow a boy named Baron Trump (Donald Trump had a fake name he use to use for press named John Baron or John Barron. His last child is also named Barron Trump). Baron Trump is very wealthy and lives in Castle Trump. He becomes bored with his luxurious lifestyle and ends up in Russia on an adventure that shapes the rest of his life. He is guided by a "master of all masters" named Don. He's on a quest to find a "world within a world" and the way to find it is told to him in a phrase that he keeps repeating to himself "The people will tell thee" He is repeatedly called "the little Baron". He has a such a great brain that he'll get so focused on things, he wouldn't notice his entire house is up in flames before it would be too late. He's quick to anger and show his power. He claims no Trump has ever surrendered and he never would either! The time of his death is uncertain too. The last book of the 3 is called "The Last President" From the article: The story begins with a scene from a panicked New York City in early November, describing a "state of uproar" after the election of an enormously opposed outsider candidate. "The entire East Side is in a state of uproar, " police officers shouted through the streets, warning city folk to stay indoors for the night. "Mobs of vast size are organizing under the lead of anarchists and socialists, and threaten to plunder and despoil the houses of the rich who have wronged and oppressed them for so many years. ""The Fifth Avenue Hotel will be the first to feel the fury of the mob, " the novel continues, citing an address in New York City where Trump Tower now stands. "Would the troops be in time to save it? The Last President doesn’t follow the same fictional narrative of Lockwood’s previous novels, though the links to Trump are once again abundantly clear. The president’s hometown of New York City is fearing the collapse of the republic in this book, also titled 1900, immediately following the transition of presidential power. Some Americans begin forming a resistance, protesting what was seen as a corrupt and unethical election process. Strangely, he is an outsider candidate said to represent the “common man, ” amid claims he will liberate the people from the bankers - an anti-establishment candidate as Mr Trump was billed as being. With the 2nd sign, here we have a TV show named Trackdown from 1958 that has a man named Walter Trump who promises to save people from the end of the world by building them a wall. The name of this specific episode is called THE END OF THE WORLD. There was a fifties Western television series (Trackdown) that had an episode called, “The End of the World. ” In this episode, the series’ main character, Hoby Gilman (played by Robert Culp), visits a town that has been left shook. Why has this town been left in such a state of despair? The end of the world is coming of course. Why does this town believe this? A man actually named Walter Trump (played by Lawrence Dobkin) rose up out of nowhere and claimed that the world was going to end and that only HE had the power stop it. The people immediately fall in line and believe every word that he said. The outsider, Hoby, is the only one to call Trump out on his lies. How does Trump respond when Hoby calls him out? Trump actually threatens to sue him. The cops of course rally behind Trump. One of them (who is proven to be in on the scheme) asks Hoby rhetorically, “Can you prove he’s wrong? ” He then says to Hoby, “It’s a lot safer to go his way than yours. ” Hoby tries his luck with the local judge who meekly stands by and says there is nothing that can be done. He warns Hoby, “Anyone who tries to change their minds might get hurt. They’re not going to believe you. ” The judge uses an apt metaphor though to at least shed some light on the situation. Judge: "Can you prove that's what he really has in mind? " Hoby: "It's obvious. " Judge: "But can you prove it? " Hoby: "What if I take him? " Judge: "On what charge? " Hoby: "Fraud" Judge: "Don't you see, he's not exactly guilty of fraud. " Judge: "I live here, I know these people pretty well. And right now, there's nothing in the world that can change their minds. And anyone who tries to is gonna end up getting hurt. They're not gonna listen. " Hoby: "Well what if he starts a panic, it could happen. " Judge: "Sure, you might as well try to spit out a forest fire. " Hoby: "There's got to be some way to stop him. " Judge: "If there is, I don't know it. It's a funny thing. When we were kids, we were all afraid of the dark. And we grew up, and we weren't afraid anymore but it's funny how a big lie can make us all kids again. " The story does not stop getting weirder from there. Walter Trump actually calls his device (which is simply a parasol) a “Wall” that will protect everyone from the outside danger. As soon as Trump gets a bit of power, he punished people monetarily for there being a single vocal doubter (Hoby). That frightened people into mob violence. Hoby is attacked for providing any resistance. When Hoby finally corners Trump, it’s revealed that our snake-oil salesman’s instincts are to buy people off. The idea clearly conveyed is that most people have been content to just sit back and take his payment in exchange for keeping quiet. Hoby continued to resist though and recognized that proving one lie was not enough. Everything had to be a lie for people to stop believing Trump. There’s not much in the way of analysis required here. There’s not much in the way of practical advice for people looking to resist Trump. Watching and breaking down this artifact was more just about appreciating the absolute bizarre coincidences. Enjoy? Some more relevant quotes from the episode: Walter Trump: "A message I ALONE was able to read in the fires of the universe. " (25 secs) Donald Trump: "I alone can fix it! " Random: "What are you selling Mr, SNAKE oil? " (57 secs) Narrator: The people were ready to believe. Like sheep they ran to the slaughterhouse. And waiting for them was the High Priest of Fraud. Walter Trump: "I am the only one. Trust me. I can build a wall around your homes that nothing will penetrate. " Townperson: "What do we do? How can we save ourselves? " Walter Trump: "You ask how do you BUILD THAT WALL. " (9:46) Hoby: "You're a liar Trump. " (11:02) Walter Trump then starts pointing to the sky and saying "Look there it is! " Then other people start saying they see things too when they really don't. They become under Trump's delusion. Hoby: "You're seeing what you want to see. There's nothing up there! " Then Walter Trump, who the narrator calls the High Priest of Fraud, seems to make fire come down from the sky. Revelations 13:13And it performed great signs, even causing fire to come down from heaven to the earth in full view of the people. 14 Because of the signs it was given power to perform on behalf of the first beast, it deceived the inhabitants of the earth. That beast is also known as the False Prophet Someone threatens to kill the one guy telling them the truth while Trump takes all their money. Judge: "Trump is sure having his way. When the town doesn't burn down, who's gonna get the credit? " The one part that totally doesn't jive is they say that Trump doesn't want the credit, he just wants the money. Donald Trump would definitely want both, probably the credit evermore so. Hoby: "You're under arrest Trump. " "What charge? " "You write it any way you like. Grand theft, fraud, I think a jury will find it stealing. " "How do you expect to prove it? " *Cue Trump trying to bribe him* Sheriff is revealed to be in on it with Trump and accuses him of trying to split with the money. Walter Trump: "You don't think I'd lie do you? " Sheriff: "You don't want an answer to that. " He then kills Trump because he doesn't want to get exposed due to Trump's arrest and Trump flipping on him. Hoby then brings the Sheriff in front of the town to tell them the truth. Narrator: "They wanted to believe him, but they still weren't over the hump. He had to find one crack in their fear. Until the crowd knew that everything Trump said was a lie, there was no hope for him. The con man would always get the credit for saving the town. As long as the parasols (The Wall) were up, Trump was still believed. One last odd thing, the first name that pops up during the credits at the end, the first name of the director: Donald Walter Trump in the TV show also makes reference to technology he has the deflect meteorites from space. With the announcement of the space force from Donald Trump, the prevailing idea is that it will be used to keep asteroids away from Earth. THE BIBLE CONNECTION So with all of this laid out, what are these very specific signs telling us? In my opinion, it's telling is that Trump is the Antichrist. That doesn't mean the Bible is 100% true or that things will happen exactly how it says it will happen in the Bible, just that we know the nature of which Trump is and it's not good. Referring to Trump as "the little Barron" can only mean one thing in my mind. Trump is the little horn from the Book of Daniel. The last king who is not like the others, speaks boastfully and goes to war with the world. The last king of the last kingdom that is made of iron with clay mixed at the feet because it is divided and it has a mixture of people. Daniel 2 31 “Your Majesty looked, and there before you stood a large statue—an enormous, dazzling statue, awesome in appearance. 32 The head of the statue was made of pure gold, its chest and arms of silver, its belly and thighs of bronze, 33 its legs of iron, its feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay. 34 While you were watching, a rock was cut out, but not by human hands. It struck the statue on its feet of iron and clay and smashed them. 35 Then the iron, the clay, the bronze, the silver and the gold were all broken to pieces and became like chaff on a threshing floor in the summer. The wind swept them away without leaving a trace. But the rock that struck the statue became a huge mountain and filled the whole earth. 36 “This was the dream, and now we will interpret it to the king. 37 Your Majesty, you are the king of kings. The God of heaven has given you dominion and power and might and glory; 38 in your hands he has placed all mankind and the beasts of the field and the birds in the sky. Wherever they live, he has made you ruler over them all. You are that head of gold. 39 “After you, another kingdom will arise, inferior to yours. Next, a third kingdom, one of bronze, will rule over the whole earth. 40 Finally, there will be a fourth kingdom, strong as iron—for iron breaks and smashes everything—and as iron breaks things to pieces, so it will crush and break all the others. 41 Just as you saw that the feet and toes were partly of baked clay and partly of iron, so this will be a divided kingdom; yet it will have some of the strength of iron in it, even as you saw iron mixed with clay. 42 As the toes were partly iron and partly clay, so this kingdom will be partly strong and partly brittle. 43 And just as you saw the iron mixed with baked clay, so the people will be a mixture and will not remain united, any more than iron mixes with clay. 44 “In the time of those kings, the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed, nor will it be left to another people. It will crush all those kingdoms and bring them to an end, but it will itself endure forever. 45 This is the meaning of the vision of the rock cut out of a mountain, but not by human hands—a rock that broke the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver and the gold to pieces. So that last kingdom sounds a lot like America doesn't it? Daniel 7 In the first year of Belshazzar king of Babylon, Daniel had a dream, and visions passed through his mind as he was lying in bed. He wrotedown the substance of his dream. 2 Daniel said: “In my vision at night I looked, and there before me were the four winds of heaven churning up the great sea. 3 Four great beasts, each different from the others, came up out of the sea. 4 “The first was like a lion, and it had the wings of an eagle. I watched until its wings were torn off and it was lifted from the ground so that it stood on two feet like a human being, and the mind of a human was given to it. 5 “And there before me was a second beast, which looked like a bear. It was raised up on one of its sides, and it had three ribs in its mouth between its teeth. It was told, ‘Get up and eat your fill of flesh! ’ 6 “After that, I looked, and there before me was another beast, one that looked like a leopard. And on its back it had four wings like those of a bird. This beast had four heads, and it was given authority to rule. 7 “After that, in my vision at night I looked, and there before me was a fourth beast—terrifying and frightening and very powerful. It had large iron teeth; it crushed and devoured its victims and trampled underfoot whatever was left. It was different from all the former beasts, and it had ten horns. 8 “While I was thinking about the horns, there before me was another horn, a little one, which came up among them; and three of the first horns were uprooted before it. This horn had eyes like the eyes of a human being and a mouth that spoke boastfully. 11 “Then I continued to watch because of the boastful words the horn was speaking. I kept looking until the beast was slain and its body destroyed and thrown into the blazing fire. “So he told me and gave me the interpretation of these things: 17 ‘The four great beasts are four kingdoms that will rise from the earth. 18 But the holy people of the Most High will receive the kingdom and will possess it forever—yes, for ever and ever. ’ 19 “Then I wanted to know the meaning of the fourth beast, which was different from all the others and most terrifying, with its iron teeth and bronze claws—the beast that crushed and devoured its victims and trampled underfoot whatever was left. 20 I also wanted to know about the ten horns on its head and about the other horn that came up, before which three of them fell—the horn that looked more imposing than the others and that had eyes and a mouth that spoke boastfully. 21 As I watched, this horn was waging war against the holy people and defeating them, 22 until the Ancient of Days came and pronounced judgment in favor of the holy people of the Most High, and the time came when they possessed the kingdom. 23 “He gave me this explanation: ‘The fourth beast is a fourth kingdom that will appear on earth. It will be different from all the other kingdoms and will devour the whole earth, trampling it down and crushing it. 24 The ten horns are ten kings who will come from this kingdom. After them another king will arise, different from the earlier ones; he will subdue three kings. 25 He will speak against the Most High and oppress his holy people and try to change the set times and the laws. The holy people will be delivered into his hands for a time, times and half a time. The little horn is the last king of the last kingdom. The Last President. Ram horns were turned into trumpets in those days, Trump-Pence. A baron is a nobleman — a member of the aristocracy. Barons are also important, powerful businessmen with huge influence over their industries. In Britain, a baron is called “Lord, ” but in the States, we call them “rich. ”Barons are members of the aristocracy — wealthy people born into power and influence. How high a baron ranks depends on the country, but the title always carries respect. Similarly, a business leader who is rich, powerful, and influential is a baron. The term is used in phrases such as oil baron and baron of industry. You can also call that kind of baron a big businessman, magnate, mogul, top executive, or tycoon. When the Bible refers to horns on the Beast, it's always a person of power. The little horn speaks boastfully, is not like the others, he's more menacing, goes to war with the world and is the last king of the last kingdom from the book of Daniel. That children's book calls the protagonist the little Baron Trump. Or "the little horn Trump". The Bible even explains why so many people are completely delusional in their support for Trump, especially Christians. Matthew 24 23 At that time if anyone says to you, ‘Look, here is the Messiah! ’ or, ‘There he is! ’ do not believe it. 24 For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. 25 See, I have told you ahead of time. Any Christian saying Trump is sent from God hasn't read their Bible. And for this reason, since they refused to love the truth, God sends them a powerful delusion. 2 Thessalonians 2 The Man of Lawlessness 2 Concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered to him, we ask you, brothers and sisters, 2 not to become easily unsettled or alarmed by the teaching allegedly from us—whether by a prophecy or by word of mouth or by letter—asserting that the day of the Lord has already come. 3 Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness[ a] is revealed, the man doomed to destruction. 4 He will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. 5 Don’t you remember that when I was with you I used to tell you these things? 6 And now you know what is holding him back, so that he may be revealed at the proper time. 7 For the secret power of lawlessness is already at work; but the one who now holds it back will continue to do so till he is taken out of the way. 8 And then the lawless one will be revealed, whom the Lord Jesus will overthrow with the breath of his mouth and destroy by the splendor of his coming. 9 The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with how Satan works. He will use all sorts of displays of power through signs and wonders that serve the lie, 10 and all the ways that wickedness deceives those who are perishing. They perish because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. 11 For this reason God sends them a powerful delusion so that they will believe the lie 12 and so that all will be condemned who have not believed the truth but have delighted in wickedness. Just want to reiterate this specific verse to make the point. 11 For this reason God sends them a powerful delusion so that they will believe the lie 12 and so that all will be condemned who have not believed the truth but have delighted in wickedness. Now, where is all of this going? The Bible says he will try to make us all take a mark so that we cannot buy or sell with out it. It will be a number of a man. Well each of us has our own number assigned to us at birth, our Social Security Number. With the recent Equifax hack, Trump's White House has concluded that SSN is out of date and we need to figure out new technology. The prevailing idea so far has been using blockchain, the same tech used for Bitcoin. So the problem they are trying to figure out here is where do they store this information on a person? A card can be easily lost or stolen and a phone can be hacked. Well take a look at what this Israeli company has been doing. This article is from 2014 This article is from last month. Their official website DNAtix has completed the first Proof Of Concept (POC) test by transferring the complete genome sequence of a virus over the Ethereum Blockchain. This test is a key milestone and the company believes that it is the first time that anyone has successfully transferred a DNA sequence over a blockchain. Now, they say they are doing this for the purpose of sharing genetic information anonymously and maybe they are. But all technology that starts out for good purposes will get subverted for evil if it can be. Imagine from the time you are born, you are genetically tied to a governmental financial system for life. It's the enslavement of the entire human population sourced into our very own DNA. Now how is Trump or anyone going to convince people to do this? Well it's been pretty obvious the economy we're in right now is about to burst in the next few years at the most. The global financial collapse will be the catalyst to it but something else will happen to. Trump's Space Force isn't just some dumb idea he has. Someone is in his ear, just like with Reagan. 25 scientists mysteriously died working on Reagan's "Star Wars" program. No, there's a reason to be building this. Well take a look at this video from 2001 where a woman warns us about building space weapons and what would happen. So this is all to bring about the fake alien invasion right? So what happens then and what does this have to do with the mark of the beast? Did you ever wonder what the whole "Drain the Swamp" thing was about? It was to psychologically prepare for the NESARA act, which these supposed benevolent aliens will bring about. Harvey Francis Barnard, a Louisiana graduate in systems philosophy, and an engineering consultant and teacher, created the NESARA proposal during the late 1980s and early 1990s. He printed 1000 copies of his proposal, titled Draining the Swamp: Monetary and Fiscal Policy Reform (1996), and sent copies to members of Congress, believing it would pass quickly on its merits. Based on a theory that debt is the number one economic factor inhibiting the growth of the economy, and compound interest the number one "moral evil" and reason for debt, Barnard made several other attempts during the 1990s to draw political attention to the problems he saw in the US economy, and his suggested economic recovery proposal based on the root causes he determined. After these did not succeed, he decided in 2000 to release the proposal to the public domain and publish it on the internet. Barnard established the NESARA Institute in 2001, and published the 2nd edition of his book in 2005, retitling it Draining the Swamp: The NESARA Story – Monetary and Fiscal Policy Reform. After Goodwin began commenting on NESARA, other internet-based conspiracy theorists latched onto it. One supporter, Sheldan Nidle, ties the imminent NESARA announcement into his years-old prophecy of an imminent large scale UFO visitation by benevolent aliens (occasionally on his website reports, but more prominently in his videos, seminars and public appearances). Jennifer Lee, who used to publish internet NESARA status reports almost daily on her now defunct site, discussed a host of other-worldly and "interdimensional" beings who are helping behind the scenes to get NESARA announced. Internet evangelist Sherry Shriner, who operates many websites, sees NESARA as linked to malevolent reptiloid aliens she feels have long controlled the U. S. Government. The Psychology of Trump's Malignant Naricissism Trump is a malignant narcissist. He is literally a hollow shell that is fueled by narcissistic supply in pursuit of having his grandiose false self reflected back to him. This is why he watches so much tv. Mostly news about himself. The only way he knows he exists is if he sees an image of himself reflected back to him like a mirror. He has to see the image of how he sees himself, his grandiose false self, reflected back to him or he chastises the mirror and tries to smash it. Since that is the case, manipulating him is very easy. Flattery is one way, especially if you are a dictator because that's who Trump respects. He looks up to them like Father figures. He thinks anyone who isn't dictator-like, is weak and stupid. Which is why he doesn't like Canada and Europe and they have become our enemies now while our former enemies have become our allies. All of the elites, the wealthy, the secret societies, the Deep State, they are just pawns that were used to set up all the laws and the globalization of the world. They are also the recognized enemy of the people aware of the NWO plot and they have used their awareness of them against them. Q has people convinced Trump is the great hero taking down the evil deep state. This is just pro wrestling to bring about the next stage of the plan. Hegelian dialectic manipulation of political events. This has all been set up so Trump can take it over in one fell swoop. Trump has been groomed for this for decades and he was set up to be against Obama. If you look back at his earlier tweets, he actually praises Obama and then someone gave him the information about Obama not being born in America. He first talked about this at a conservative event that he was asked to speak at. After the event, he talked about how amazing the response of the crowd was. The narcissistic supply he got from that, he got addicted to and being the leader of the birthers became his new thing. This set him up to be against Obama and allowed the people who have a pathological hate for Obama (future delusional Trump supporters) to psychologically attach themselves to him long before he ever ran for President. Then they put a pseudo fake Reagan costume on him that checked off every single box of beliefs that a certain type of conservative has (mostly the Fox News watching type). They made him seem like an outsider even though he's been friends with the Clintons for decades, to even further psychologically attach conservatives to him. Trump is just a slave to his grandiose false self and he has to obtain narcissistic supply to fuel it. If you know how to manipulate that, you can get him to do whatever you want. His supporters are literally what is fueling him. If they stop cheering him and coming to his events, he would literally change all of his beliefs in order to get that back. Why do you think he constantly talks about the size of his crowds and his ratings? Without that reaction, he has no idea who he is, he doesn't even exist. Trump will undoubtedly incite all of his supporters to violence once his Presidency is legitimately threatened from the Mueller investigation or he might do it if the midterms don't go his way. He'll claim election rigging or something. Conversely, we might see the liberals be the ones who initiate the violence instead due to the media whipping everyone up in a frenzy of outrage which will only boil over and explode at some point. Either way, major conflict in the streets due to the citizens themselves taking action is coming. What happens next will largely depend on how much the military and police support him but with all the immigrants they are keeping in camps, they are doing that on purpose so there is maximum chaos when the shit hits the fan. An extra 100, 000 or so non-white people so the racial aspect ramps up the violence. Cue our power grid and internet being cut off and martial law will be implemented for sure. Whoever emerges the leader after the dust has settled from all of this, they will have complete control of America and it will be willingly given to them by the citizens who are left. If it isn't Trump, I'm guessing people will be clamoring for Obama to take a 3rd term. I think Obama and Trump might be 2 sides of the same coin and Obama is being set up as the hero to take down Trump. He is either their backup plan, or he was the plan all along. At that point, everything associated with Trump will be demonized. Conservatism and the Republican party might as well be dead, Christianity will probably be hated because of all the nut bags that believed Trump was from God. Everyone will willingly give up their guns because the 2nd amendment was the only reason the Trump supporters were able to cause that much chaos to begin with. Plus, the tide was already shifting due to using the kids from the Parkland shooting as anti-gun spokespeople. Trump and his supporters were really the last road block to instigating a far left agenda. Trump might just be a way to get them all to show their faces and then lead them to their deaths. With them out of the way, there's nothing left to stop the leftists and the implementation of socialism. In comes hate speech laws, open borders, facial recognition software for all police, more control over the internet due to the "hack" of our power grid and systems, a larger nanny state due to influx of immigrants leading to the global financial collapse. But if Trump remains in power, the common Christian belief is that the Antichrist makes a 7 year peace deal with Israel and the rest of the Middle East and in the middle of it, he breaks it and sets himself up in the new temple built in Jerusalem due to Israel becoming a nation again and says he is God. Which was an idea well before Trump ever moved the embassy there and Israel put his image on coins and named places there after him. But in Christianity, the temple is the human body. So Trump doesn't necessarily have to be in some Jewish temple when he calls himself God for this prophecy to come true. Now maybe you think that it would be ridiculous to think Trump would ever call himself God but consider this. Christians all over the country think he was sent from God and a man named Mark Taylor claims that God told him about Trump's presidency in 2011. He speaks at length about it and what he is saying is absolutely terrifying unless you think its the work of a good and righteous God. But the way he is describing Trump's future is EXACTLY like the Bible describes the Antichrist. Succeeding in everything he does, going to war with the world, nothing will harm him. So ok, this is just one possible nutjob. Can't be that big of a deal right? Well now you also have Qanon saying Trump is leading the fight between Biblical good and evil and leading all of these blind followers with a carrot on a stick, while brainwashing the shit out of them, just long enough until the shit hits the fan and they need these people to fight for them. But back to Mark Taylor and how this will tie into Trump calling himself God. Mark is making a movie called The Trump Prophecy which strongly hints that Trump is sent by God. A movie that will undoubtedly get a lot of buzz when it comes out just because of the sheer craziness of it. Now, tell me if you think this is a movie Trump might be interested in seeing and then tell me whether or not Trump is the type of guy who would let the belief of millions of people that he could be a holy savior go to his head and where that road leads. Think David Koresh or Jim Jones with the largest army ever known to humankind at their backs. Trump has been talking about this peace deal in the Middle East for decades. Called it his Ultimate Deal. William Coupon, portrait photographer, who shot Trump in New York City for Manhattan, inc. in 1983: “I shot Donald Trump twice. This is my favorite. Trump was offering his services as a ‘peace negotiator’ between the Israelis and the Palestinians. We thought: get the bird, which proceeded to leave droppings behind. Trump was amenable enough, but not at all happy. But ultimately, it was that something in his eyes. His eyes. Not the bird’s. ” Next, there is some connections to Acts and Revelations in the Bible regarding this passage. Acts 2:20 The sun will be turned to darkness and the moon to blood before the coming of the great and glorious day of the Lord. Revelations 6:12 And when I saw the Lamb open the sixth seal, there was a great earthquake, and the sun became black like sackcloth of goat hair, and the whole moon turned blood red. Trump was born on June 14th 1946. There was a total lunar eclipse (blood moon) that day and apparently, around the exact same time of his birth, 10:54am over Israel. Then, there was a tetrad, a series of 4 consecutive total lunar eclipses, with a total solar eclipse in the middle of them, which is extremely rare. One on April 15 2014, October 8th 2014, then the solar eclipse on March 20th 2015, followed by 2 more total lunar eclipses on April 4th 2015 and September 28th 2015. Trump announced his candidacy for President on June 16th 2015. Then there was the total solar eclipse that went over the entire United States in rare fashion on August 21st 2017. Then a super blue blood moon happened on January 31st 2018, the night of Trump's first State of the Union speech. All of these rare events happening around Trump seem too coincidental to not be taken as something more in my opinion. His father's middle name is Christ and his mother's name is Mary. The name Donald means "ruler of the world". DIRECT LINKS TO THE SIGNS Trackdown - S01E30 - The End of the World Travels and adventures of Little Baron Trump and his wonderful dog Bulger Baron Trump's Marvelous Underground Journey The Last President (1900).

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