BlueJab: forum

Looking for a job!

Working Stats

Manual labor 1,094

Intelligence 13,589

Endurance 25,230

Total 39,913

I’ve worked as a butcher for years, and nothing ever phased me—until the night that changed everything.

My shop, tucked away in the quiet corner of town, was never a place people thought much about. I’d spend long hours carving meat, listening to the hum of the freezer and the rhythmic slice of the cleaver. It was an honest job, and I was good at it. But one evening, something unsettling began to unravel that would pull me into a nightmare I never saw coming.

That day, a new delivery came in—an order from Hollow Street. I didn’t think much of it at first, but the address was familiar, a street people whispered about. The rumors never made sense—disappearances, strange sounds, and whispers that seemed to come from nowhere. But as the last light of the day faded, something about this delivery felt different.

The meat itself was strange. It was packaged tightly, yet it had a weird texture to it, almost like it wasn’t what it was supposed to be. My gut churned as I cut into it. The flesh was unusually pale, the smell sour. As the blade slid through the meat, I heard it—the whisper. It was faint at first, a slight hum that seemed to come from somewhere in the room.

I turned off the radio, thinking it might’ve been some interference, but the whisper didn’t stop. It grew louder, almost like it was coming from inside the meat. I shook my head, trying to brush it off, but my hands trembled as I worked the cleaver. Then I heard it clearly, as if someone was standing right behind me.

“Help me…”

I froze. My heart raced as I spun around, but the shop was empty. The lights flickered overhead, casting long, unnatural shadows across the floor. My skin crawled, the air suddenly colder than it should’ve been. I backed away from the cutting table, trying to make sense of what was happening. The whisper came again, louder, more desperate.

“Please… help me.”

I dropped the cleaver, my breath hitching. It wasn’t just any voice. It was familiar. It sounded like Mark, an old friend from school who vanished years ago, never to be seen again. People said he ran away, but something always felt off about his disappearance.

My feet moved before my brain could process. I grabbed my coat and made my way to Hollow Street, my mind spinning with fear and confusion. As I walked down the dimly lit street, the houses seemed to loom over me, their windows dark and soulless. Mark’s house sat at the end, its paint peeling and the yard overgrown. It hadn’t been touched since the night he vanished.

I approached cautiously, my breath clouding in the cold air. The door creaked open, as if expecting me. The inside was worse—dust and decay clung to every surface, but it wasn’t empty. The same whispers from the shop filled the room, circling me, taunting me.

I followed them, stepping down into the basement. The smell hit me first—rotting, metallic, like old blood mixed with something far worse. My flashlight flickered as the shadows seemed to dance along the walls. In the corner of the room, I saw him. Mark. His body was twisted, gaunt, his skin stretched thin like he’d been drained of life. But his eyes were open, wide and terrified.

Before I could speak, the shadows around him moved, writhing like they were alive. They weren’t just shadows—they were something else. They whispered through him, using his voice. “They’re here,” he croaked. “They never leave.”

I staggered back, bile rising in my throat. Mark’s body convulsed, the dark shapes tightening around him. “Run,” he wheezed, but his eyes weren’t just warning me—they were pleading for release.

But I couldn’t move. The shadows had me now. Cold tendrils crept up my legs, pulling me closer to Mark. The whispers swirled louder, invading my mind. They wanted me too.

In a blind panic, I grabbed a meat hook from the wall and swung it wildly. The shadows recoiled, but they didn’t retreat. Instead, they circled faster, as if excited by the violence. Mark let out a guttural scream, his body jerking violently as the shadows pulled him deeper into the darkness.

I bolted up the stairs, the whispers chasing me, clawing at my mind. Even after I slammed the door behind me, I could feel them watching, waiting.

Back at my shop, I tried to shake it off, but it never left me. The whispering followed me home, into my dreams, and through the walls of my house. Every night, I hear Mark’s voice. “They’re here,” he says. “And now they want you.”

I never went back to Hollow Street, but it doesn’t matter. The shadows found me. And now, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time

before I become just another whisper.

As the title says, what book would you recommend for a new or non-reader that will help them engage more in reading?

sell them and you will earn money by doing it 

Looking for a job!

Working Stats

Manual labor 1,094

Intelligence 13,589

Endurance 25,230

Total 39,913

I’ve worked as a butcher for years, and nothing ever phased me—until the night that changed everything.

My shop, tucked away in the quiet corner of town, was never a place people thought much about. I’d spend long hours carving meat, listening to the hum of the freezer and the rhythmic slice of the cleaver. It was an honest job, and I was good at it. But one evening, something unsettling began to unravel that would pull me into a nightmare I never saw coming.

That day, a new delivery came in—an order from Hollow Street. I didn’t think much of it at first, but the address was familiar, a street people whispered about. The rumors never made sense—disappearances, strange sounds, and whispers that seemed to come from nowhere. But as the last light of the day faded, something about this delivery felt different.

The meat itself was strange. It was packaged tightly, yet it had a weird texture to it, almost like it wasn’t what it was supposed to be. My gut churned as I cut into it. The flesh was unusually pale, the smell sour. As the blade slid through the meat, I heard it—the whisper. It was faint at first, a slight hum that seemed to come from somewhere in the room.

I turned off the radio, thinking it might’ve been some interference, but the whisper didn’t stop. It grew louder, almost like it was coming from inside the meat. I shook my head, trying to brush it off, but my hands trembled as I worked the cleaver. Then I heard it clearly, as if someone was standing right behind me.

“Help me…”

I froze. My heart raced as I spun around, but the shop was empty. The lights flickered overhead, casting long, unnatural shadows across the floor. My skin crawled, the air suddenly colder than it should’ve been. I backed away from the cutting table, trying to make sense of what was happening. The whisper came again, louder, more desperate.

“Please… help me.”

I dropped the cleaver, my breath hitching. It wasn’t just any voice. It was familiar. It sounded like Mark, an old friend from school who vanished years ago, never to be seen again. People said he ran away, but something always felt off about his disappearance.

My feet moved before my brain could process. I grabbed my coat and made my way to Hollow Street, my mind spinning with fear and confusion. As I walked down the dimly lit street, the houses seemed to loom over me, their windows dark and soulless. Mark’s house sat at the end, its paint peeling and the yard overgrown. It hadn’t been touched since the night he vanished.

I approached cautiously, my breath clouding in the cold air. The door creaked open, as if expecting me. The inside was worse—dust and decay clung to every surface, but it wasn’t empty. The same whispers from the shop filled the room, circling me, taunting me.

I followed them, stepping down into the basement. The smell hit me first—rotting, metallic, like old blood mixed with something far worse. My flashlight flickered as the shadows seemed to dance along the walls. In the corner of the room, I saw him. Mark. His body was twisted, gaunt, his skin stretched thin like he’d been drained of life. But his eyes were open, wide and terrified.

Before I could speak, the shadows around him moved, writhing like they were alive. They weren’t just shadows—they were something else. They whispered through him, using his voice. “They’re here,” he croaked. “They never leave.”

I staggered back, bile rising in my throat. Mark’s body convulsed, the dark shapes tightening around him. “Run,” he wheezed, but his eyes weren’t just warning me—they were pleading for release.

But I couldn’t move. The shadows had me now. Cold tendrils crept up my legs, pulling me closer to Mark. The whispers swirled louder, invading my mind. They wanted me too.

In a blind panic, I grabbed a meat hook from the wall and swung it wildly. The shadows recoiled, but they didn’t retreat. Instead, they circled faster, as if excited by the violence. Mark let out a guttural scream, his body jerking violently as the shadows pulled him deeper into the darkness.

I bolted up the stairs, the whispers chasing me, clawing at my mind. Even after I slammed the door behind me, I could feel them watching, waiting.

Back at my shop, I tried to shake it off, but it never left me. The whispering followed me home, into my dreams, and through the walls of my house. Every night, I hear Mark’s voice. “They’re here,” he says. “And now they want you.”

I never went back to Hollow Street, but it doesn’t matter. The shadows found me. And now, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time

before I become just another whisper.

As the title says, what book would you recommend for a new or non-reader that will help them engage more in reading?

1545

With a heart full of courage and a spirit ignited by the flames of adventure, I seek to align myself with a grand faction worthy of my battle prowess. Behold my current battle stats, reflecting the might and dedication I bring to the field:

Battle Stats:

Strength: 1,610 (+1%)
Defense: 753 (+0%)
Speed: 358 (+1%)
Dexterity: 1,072 (+1%)
Total Battle Stats: 3,793

Effective Battle Stats:

Strength: 1,626
Defense: 753
Speed: 361
Dexterity: 1,082
Total Effective Stats: 3,822

I seek a faction where my skills and dedication can flourish and where, together, we can achieve glorious victories. If your faction values strength, strategy, and the pursuit of greatness, I humbly invite you to extend your hand in alliance. Let us forge a path to triumph and honor side by side. 

Respond with your offer, and let us embark on this epic journey together! 🌟

Looking for a job

• Manual labor 601
• Intelligence 13,514
• Endurance 24,971
• Total 39,086