#interview endings instead of that shitty ass podcast

[vntildavvn]

The Quarry | Interview Ending

Abigail

"It was so dark and I couldn't see anything." Abi began, "It wasn't a normal animal but it wasn't human and I couldn't do anything, I tried so hard to help him but it wasn't good enough, I wasn't fast enough." The officer frowns at her in utter confusion, "Abigail..." They trail off and the girl looks up, red clinging to her like a second skin. "You said that it was your friend, Nicholas -" She shakes her head, "Nick, it wasn't him, he wasn't himself, it wasn't his fault." With an unsure sigh, the officer stares, "What wasn't his fault?" It's silent for a moment and Abi finally speaks, "When he was turning into one of those things, he didn't mean it..." She utters out quietly, "He didn't mean it." This time the words sounded more unsure, taunted by her actual thoughts.

Dylan

"What happened to your hand, Dylan?" The question held a hint of concern, unsure if the young man should instead be in the hospital rather than in a dirty interview room for disease to hurt him even more, but Dylan only shrugs and smiles, more of a grimace as he replies. "It's nothing, it's a precaution or was..." He trails off, dazed but alert all at the same time and the officer clears his throat, "What do you mean by a precaution?" The Lenivy boy looks up as if the man had asked something stupid but he replies to him in a calm voice, the most calm he had been all night. "It was the only option, okay? So I wouldn't turn into a werewolf." The officer raises a brow at the words, "Werewolf?" Now he was sure the boy needed to get that wound seen to, it was as if the unsure tone was dismissed by Dylan as he's quick to look around sharply, "What about Ryan? Was he okay after everything? And the others, did everyone else make it?"

Emma

Emma Mountebank was practically rocking in her seat, a look of disbelief as she eyes the officers with judgement. "I am telling you, it was on the island!" Her voice raises in a sharp annoyance, "It chased me and attacked me and I almost didn't get away!" She confirms, "I told you about the photo, the one on my phone, the proof is right there on my camera!" The officer stares with a look that Emma knew meant he didn't believe her, "Miss -" She cuts into his words quickly, "You're not listening to me." Before the officer could say another word, Emma scoffs and leans back into the metal of the chair, "If you aren't gonna even listen to a word I've said then let me go, I wanna see my friends, I wanna see Abi." At least her friends knew what happened was true, at least they believed her when they lived through the exact same threat.

Jacob

"So you sabotaged the van on purpose?" Jacob's eyes are watery, tears wobbling and threatening to slip, he didn't want to be a weak link to them. "I didn't know what would happen, I just wanted another night with her." The officer writes something down sharply, "Who was it?" Jacob did not understand why he asked but he answered "Emma, I wanted to spend more time with her. We had a moment at the lake but it all went to shit..." It fell quiet before the officer spoke, "What do you mean by that?" Jacob sighs at the officer with an irritated glare, "Oh, I don't know, maybe finding a fucking dead body or being caged next to a monster who used to be my friend, you decide!" The officer stares with some curiosity, "Was the body male or female?" Jacob is quick to look up, "I don't fucking know, I was too busy in trying to get the rotor arm, all I know is that it was gross as shit!" The officer speaks into one of the recorders placed on the table, "Please make a note to investigate further..." Jacob lets out an unsettled sigh as the room falls quiet once more.

Kaitlyn

Kaitlyn Ka was nervous but she didn't show it. Her face is blank as she stares ahead, keeping her breathing steadily calm but it doesn't stop the thundering heart that makes her throat close up with anxious waves engulfing her and making her ears ring that she barely hears the officer who asks another question. "The gun used on Caleb Hackett, it has your fingerprints on it. Would you mind explaining why that is?" The brunette looks up with furrowed brows, a sense of outrage that barely manages to be held down against her words, "He was a fucking werewolf! He tried to kill me and Dylan and if Abi hadn't given me the silver shells then I wouldn't be here in this room right now!" It's the officers uninterested stare that makes Kaitlyn shake her head and scoff, "So you intended to shoot him?" The officer twists at her words, trying to tell a story that was anything but true. "No, that is not what I said, you aren't listening to me!" Shuffling in her seat, she sits forward in anger, "I am trying to tell you that I didn't have a choice, I shot him in self defense not knowing it was him and even if I did, I would do it again because he was trying to kill us and he would have if I didn't do what I did!" She stares at the officer with no doubts, remaining silent.

Laura

"What happened Laura?" The blonde was silent for a few moments, lips in a thin line and face blank as she tried to tell a story that needed to be heard. She felt familiar with the questions, the interrogation tactics, observing Travis Hackett over the months and learning a thing or two and knowing what the officer in front of her wanted to know. "I did this to end the curse, I did this to cure Max and for this whole nightmare to end." She says calmly, "A family was found dead, Miss Kearney." The officer replied, "The Hackett family, Constance Hackett was found shot dead, Jedidiah Hackett was strangled until his neck broke, and Kaylee Hackett was found dead in a pool and a few camp counselors have said you were the one who killed her!" It was clear the officer was unhappy with her response but Laura didn't care anymore, "Everything I did was to stop more death from happening, every single thing that has happened tonight was to stop them from causing more bloodshed and tragedy." The officer glared ahead, "And so you stopped it by causing more bloodshed yourself?" Laura glared back, not letting his comments get to her, she didn't care anymore.

Max

"Is Laura okay?" Was his first question unanswered by the officer in front of him and Max couldn't stop his thoughts taking over, about Laura and all that blood, the screams that blurred between fear, waiting hours on that island, isolated and alone. He was no longer alone, stuck in a police station as an officer spoke quietly to him. "What were you doing on the island?" He frowned but answered honestly, "It was to stop me hurting anyone else, to stop me from killing anybody." The officer let her confusion be known, "What do you mean, Max?" He lets a sigh leave him, "When I turned into that thing, into a giant monster, I wasn't in control and so Laura left me there so she could end the curse once and for all." He admits with a weak smile, "I guess it worked..." He trailed off, a look of relief crossing his features that he wouldn't have to ever live in fear of losing control, losing himself to a monster.

Nick

"It was some kind of animal." Nick said quietly, voice low and tired. Covered in red like Carrie White on prom night. "I remember Abi... She tried to - she tried to help me. She never stopped looking out for me even after those things I did and said to her." He admits, guilt all over his face, it's what makes the officer intrigued as she speaks up, "What did you do, Nick?" The Furcillo boy fell silent, he felt sick to his stomach, disgusted by the words he said that were simply not true, words he tried to fight against while this monster clawed its way out and turned him into an evil, a thing that he feared of becoming. "I remember her face, I remember how scared she looked, how upset, how much terror was in her eyes when I -" He stops, "I didn't want to do that, I'd never do that to her, I didn't mean to hurt her." He admits, "But I did, I hurt her. I know I did."

Ryan

Ryan was quiet and still in his seat apart from his left leg bouncing up and down with fear and his eyes wandering the room with paranoia. "We've identified the body of your camp leader, Chris Hackett." The woman's voice was steady as she spoke, "Is there something you'd like to tell us, Ryan?" His frown deepened, "Chris was - he was a good man, he always looked out for me." He let his words go quiet, "He told us to stay inside, I should've listened, I should've convinced the others to stay inside, I should've done more and maybe this wouldn't have happened..." The officer wants to know more and so she pushes at him, "What wouldn't have happened, Ryan?" It fell quiet for a moment before he spoke once more, "The werewolf attacking Nick and Abi, Dylan's hand being cut off, Kaylee..." He trails off before continuing, "Chris never let me down before, he was always looking out for me, it isn't fair, he didn't deserve this. If I just knew the truth, if I'd believed in something I thought was just a story then maybe I could have changed things." The officer in front of him clicks her pen and asks one final question, "What story would that be, Ryan?" He meets her gaze and lets a quiet answer follow, "The Hag of Hackett's Quarry..."

#the quarry #kaitlyn ka #dylan lenivy #emma mountebank #abigail blyg #jacob custos #nick furcillo #laura kearney #max brinly #ryan ezrahler #supermassive games #video games #alternative ending #interview endings instead of that shitty ass podcast #I suck at writing dialogue #but i was bored #and this came to me #definitely until dawn inspired #interviews

[berriweb]

╰┈➤ ❝ GRAVEYARD SHIFT SHENANIGANS ❞

: ̗̀➛ ft. johnathan ohnn (the spot) x gn! reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings. y/n is strapped, johnny gives second hand embarrassment

: ̗̀➛ note. if you were the one getting robbed instead, i didn’t proof read this so if you saw a typo no you didn’t

only the restless and the crazies are awake at 3 am, and the only thing that those have in common are that they both have nothing better to do with their time. what does that make you?

The streets were quiet.

If you were lucky, every so often you’d hear the sounds of a car speeding down the road (likely well above the speed limit) or groups of people shouting and ranting while searching for a cab or an Uber after a long night at the bar across the street. It was rare, however, and you were more often than not left alone with your own thoughts to drown out the sounds of the fluorescent lights above you buzzing unnecessarily loud and the quiet pop songs playing on repeat from the speakers mounted in the ceilings.

Anyone else would run from the idea of being left in such a dull and lacking environment, but for you the nights spent sitting idly behind the counter waiting for the rare human interaction was necessary to keep your lights on and your ass out of the streets.

When you’d first heard the corner store was looking for a new employee to work the graveyard shift after the last worker quit due to a recent attack from a rouge villain that left him too paranoid to run the store alone, you were heavily against the idea despite your friend’s insistence that it was good money and she knew you needed it after hearing your previous complaints about your current job not being enough to cover both your bills and your meals. Knowing how prevalent crime could be, especially considering the part of town you lived in, who in their right mind would accept that job offer?

Luckily for you, you didn’t seem to be in your right mind. After a few convincing words and a quick interview with the grouchy owner of the store, you were welcomed with somewhat open arms and after two weeks of half assed training, you were successfully spending nearly all of your nights running the corner store after the sun went down.

Now it’s been two years, and as much as you love the security you feel knowing that you’re good at what you do, it can tend to get a bit boring on quiet nights.

You’d take the silence over the nights where you’d get visits from shady men coming in to withdraw a questionable amount of money and drug addicts who’d harass you for a few dollars to get a fix or were just completely off their rocker.

To make up for the lack of entertainment, you popped in an earbud and put on a podcast to drown out your thoughts, mindlessly flipping through the same magazines you’d been looking through for the last 4 hours of your shift. At some point celebrity drama had become more boring than the silence so you resulted to working on the puzzles and mind games on the back, so consumed in a sudoku game that you almost didn’t notice the sound of the scratching of metal and the small rusted bell jingling as the door to your store creaked open. As soon as it registered, you set the book down, sitting up, alert and ready as you eyed the new customer who had the pleasure of gaining your attention for the next few minutes they’d been in.

If there was one thing your shitty training had taught you it was to keep an eye out and be observant, more often than not the creeps came out at night and the last thing you wanted was to end up on the news with a bad id picture because you didn’t notice a man entering the store with a gun cocked and ready.

As a result, you’d gotten pretty good at profiling some of your customers and taking note of things that most people normally would pay no mind too. This man was no different.

Your alarms went off the moment he walked in, but you weren’t exactly sure which red flag set it off. Maybe it was the way he was dressed, in a big blue brown coat covering most of his upper half with the collar popped to hide his neck, topping it off with a brown bucket had covering most of his hat and what you thought were sunglasses. Maybe it was how you couldn’t tell what the glasses were due to his head being tilted down and his gaze locked on the floor and his own two feet. Or it could’ve been how you couldn’t get a good look at his bottom half aside from what you believed were black spotted white pants due to how quickly he scurried to the counter, his entire body tilting under your gaze as he seemed to be really shifty and refused to meet your eyes.

The only physical feature you could really make out about the person was that they were really, really pale and just from your angle you could tell he was a decently tall man.

“How can I help you?” Were the first words you chose to utter to him, trying to get an idea of what he wanted and why he seemed to be so nervous and fidgety, outlined by the way his hands messed with the hem of his coat.

“I- um,” he cleared his through, and you could sense the nervousness in his voice. His tone was light but held weight like he was hiding something or was guilty of something worse, “where is your restroom?”

What were the odds that he actually had to go? You’d had your fair share of people with the same mannerisms asking for the same thing and majority of the time they were using in the restroom, leaving you to pick up after the mess of tissue and needles, or worse, they’d leave behind, but something in your gut told you that wasn’t the case, and you couldn’t refuse him service based on a hunch.

Reaching behind you without taking your eyes off the man, you opened a drawer and pulled out a rusted keychain, clearing your throat and holding it out for him. “In the back, first door on your left, try not to make a mess,” you instructed and nodded your head towards the open corner in the back of the store.

With a small thank you, the unknown man quickly snatched the key from your grasp and made his way to the back with haste, though not without you notice the strange texture of his skin for the brief moment your fingers touched, and not without him eyeing the ATM machine he passed on his way back.

What was his deal?

A few minutes had gone by since he went to the back. You’d paused your podcast and sat silently, your gaze constantly shifting from the front doors to the back as you waited for him to reappear. Your negative attitude might have been uncalled for, he may have just been a regular guy who stopped at the first place that had an available bathroom, but you knew better than to be that hopefully. Moments later after you’d returned to your magazine, you heard a door open and footsteps, followed up by buttons clicking and pointed beeping noises. When you looked back, he was out and standing in front of the ATM, hesitantly pushing buttons.

You couldn’t tell if he was trying to make himself seem busy on the machine or was really anxious about pulling money. It could’ve been the case that he was taking out a lot for something that wasn’t exactly legal. Drugs, a sex worker maybe? It was none of your business, so long as he kept it out of your store.

You turned back to your magazine to avoid him noticing your constant staring, but about a minute later you perked up at the sound of a loud screech, silent curses and the sound of loud banging. Your senses heightened as you turned around again in your chair, and it took a moment to process the sight in front of you. The man had managed to climb on top of the machine, or at least that’s how you assumed he got up there, jumping up and down on the machine in a hurry. It was hard to piece together until you realized that the machine was now halfway through the ground, courtesy of a large black gaping hole that you were certain wasn’t there before. What the hell?

Your hand reached for the drawer under your register faster than you could process, being far too use to this drill. Your hands searched the drawer without your eyes leaving him before pushing it closed after discreetly pulling out your weapon. It wasn’t often that you needed the gun, but it’s better safe than sorry.

Quietly, you stood up from your chair and left from behind the counter, sneaking up on the man by tiptoeing through the aisles. Assuming he was a criminal, he wasn’t very good at keeping an eye out as he hadn’t noticed you creeping up on him from behind until you were mere feet away and turned off the safety, raising your arms with it pointed at his head. Unnecessary? Maybe, but you weren’t dumb enough I charge unarmed, not if he could be a serious threat.

“Freeze!” Yikes, maybe that was too officer-ey? Your tone was assertive, but your assumption that he could be a hero deflated and was thrown out the window as he reacted far too slow, turning around nearly jumping out of his (pants?), letting out a scream that could put a little girl at Disneyland to shame. His arms flailed and he lost his footing on the ATM, falling over only for another portal to open on the ground and swallowing him whole. He reappeared in a portal on the ceiling behind you and you jumped, turning around just in time to see him fall through, his torso hitting the top of a shelf and sending all of the condiments falling before he hit the ground. You couldn’t help but wince, that had to hurt, but kept your grip on the gun firm as he struggled to his feet.

Leaning against a display to pull himself off, he mistakenly put too much faith in the rickety stand and it toppled over, bags of snacks matching the other items scattered on the ground. He let out a groan of pain and when he stood, somewhat fully as he seemed to have bad posture, you watched the now broken sunglasses fall off of his face, or rather lack thereof, his hat falling to the ground.

He had no face. Where it should’ve been, there was a large, black gaping hole with no way to see anything inside. In fact, it wasn’t just his face, as you soon came to realize that he wasn’t wearing pants, those dots were his skin. He had no human distinguishable features, what you had assumed to be pale skin was actually paper white, decorated with black hopes all across his legs, seemingly his entire body. His coat still remained, but you were willing to bet that his torso was covered in the same holes as the rest of his body. If not for the humanoid figure, voice, and his clumsy personality you wouldn’t have known he was human, assuming he was.

“Wait wait wait! Please- pLEASE don’t shoot! I’m not dangerous I swear I’m a good guy, well I’m not because I’m robbing you but I’m not really robbing you-” as he seemed to start to ramble on, the confusion started contorting your face and he seemed to notice, laughing nervously with his hands still raised as he took a step back. “See, I’m not really a criminal but because I look like this now no one will hire me and I have to resort to robbing stores to support myself, you know?” As he spoke he attempted to shake an empty can that his foot lodged itself in, leaning down to pull it off while keeping a hand up which reminded you that you still held him at gun point.

While you were still only beginning to process what the hell was going on, you hypothesized that the more stressed or worked up he seemed to be, the more out of control his holes became, as the seemed to shift and swirl on his body more and more as he continued to rant. “I’m kind of like my own Robin Hood, you know the whole steal from the rich give to the poor? Except I kind of am the poor, at least I am now. I used to have a good job at Alchemax before they turned me into this, but I can thank Spider-Man for that too-” Alongside that, they popped up far more often, proven by how he suddenly toppled into another, emerging from the wall next to you and hitting the floor head first, wincing as he stood up, this time without the can, it instead falling from a different hole that appeared next to his head, hitting him square in the face before disappearing into another hole.

Without realized it, your arms slightly lowered and you resulted to watching the poor man’s sad attempts at controlling his mutation/power, finding it both pitiful and amusing. “But that’s besides the point! You really shouldn’t shoot me I swear I’ll be out of your hair, which looks great- by the way, as soon as I can I really don’t mean any harm!”

Pulling his arm out of a half closed hole, he suddenly straightened up, managing to stand in one place without being thrown around like a rag doll. Silence remained as you seemingly stood still and stared at him for what seemed like an eternity but was only a few seconds before you pursed your lips, looking down as a hand came up to your mouth to muffle the sounds.

“What- what are you doing?” He questioned you, and while there was no expression on his face you had a feeling he was looking at you with a puzzled look, only for his question to be answered when you suddenly doubled over, the muffled snicker turning into chuckles, which lead to giggles up until you were howling with laughter, hardly able to catch your breath. You left him standing there thinking you must’ve lost your mind. “Why are you laughing?!” You could only respond with more cackling, leaning against a wall and inhaling deeply to make up for the lack of air you could consume.

“What’s so funny?! This isn’t a joke!” He sounded both surprised and slightly offended, which you felt slightly bad for but given his methods you couldn’t help it, and by the time you started to calm down as he stupidly stood there, the pieces seemed to finally click on everything he was telling you, from what you knew anyway.

“Are you sure?” Were the first words that left your mouth, and he seemed baffled by your reaction. “Yes I’m sure! What’s your deal? I’ll have you know I spent a lot of time planning this out!” You highly doubted that.

The holes were definitely hard to get your mind behind, but as your brain tried to process you suddenly reminded the can while a portal, unbeknownst to you, opened up behind you. Where did it go?

BANG!

A sharp pain raced through the back of your head and the man’s hands went up to where his mouth would’ve, or rather should’ve, been. “Ohmygosh I am SO sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to!”

“Yeah, I figured!”

Reaching up to feel the back of your head, a throbbing pain settled in, but luckily no blood so you deemed it safe. You didn’t have to see it to hear the apologetic tone in his voice, and after that entire fiasco you could only feel bad for the poor guy. He clearly hadn’t been built for a life of crime, but unfortunately decided that it was his path.

“Listen,” you got his attention by showing off you lowering the weapon, before nodding your head up towards the ceiling and giving a pointed look to two corners of the store. “The cameras in here are really old, they don’t have audio and the video quality is horrible. I can edit the footage to an extent before I leave, but if the time gap between the frames is too long it might get suspicious and I’m not losing my job over you.”

You slowly raised your weapon as you looked back at him, turning the safety back on. “I’m going to act like I’m holding you at gunpoint and threatening to call the cops, all you have to do is snatch the gun when I ‘accidentally’ drop it, kind of switch the roles around, you get me? I can get you some money from the safe before I call the cops but you have to be quick-”

“Wait, hold on, you’re helping me?” He asked incredulously, his shoulders falling as he pointed at his chest. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“I am, you honestly don’t seem like a bad guy and it’s not coming out of my paycheck, so long as next time you try to pull this you don’t do it here.”

If he had one, his jaw surely would’ve been on the floor. “I can’t even begin to thank you, you’re a saint! Is this a trick? I can’t repay you for this-” he started on again, but you cut him off be gesturing towards the weapon again to remind him of your words before dropping it.

Luckily for you, he was able to catch on pretty quickly and took the gun. His acting was mediocre at best, but you doubted anyone would look at the footage closely enough to notice how amateur he seemed as he pointed it at you, he hadn’t even turned the safety off. He demanded you take him to the safe before you reminded him that the cameras couldn’t hear him and there wasn’t a need for the menacing voice, to which he sheepishly apologized. After letting him stuff his pockets with as many of the bills as he could fit, you yelled to stop him before he could race out the door.

“The gun. I need it back.”

“Oh, yeah, right…” he chuckled and left it on the counter, taking a few awkward steps back. Your curiosity got the better of you and you leaned forward from behind the counter. “You did a whole lot of talking but I never got your name.”

Flustered, he seemed to point at himself as if he were confused on why you were asking him, but replied, “I am…the Spot.”

The same feeling bubbling up in your chest as you eyed his stance and the sudden voice change, you brought a hand up to your mouth, and his shoulders fell yet again.

“You’re seriously laughing? Again?!”

“No! No, I’m not,” you tried to defend, but the giggle you let out before clearing your throat and biting back a smile said otherwise. Luckily you were able to control it this time. “It’s just- what kind of awful parents have the honors of giving you that name?”

“It’s my villain name! Not my real one!” He hissed.

“Then what’s your real name?”

He looked at you puzzled, possibly wondering why you wanted to know so much, but at the same time it’d been a while since anyone had shown genuine interest in him so he obliged.

“Johnathan.”

“Johnathan,” you repeated slowly, as if you were resting out the name in your mouth, making his stomach warm up with an indescribably annoying feeling. “Alright, Johnny. Have a good night. You might want to get lost before the cops show up.”

He turned around as if to leave before pausing yet again, turning his head back. “Wait, I never got your name?”

“Then I guess you’re going to have to come back another time to find out.” Bold, and completely not your style, but something told you that you and Johnathan were going to get along nicely. “Preferably not to rob me though, and without making a big mess I have to inevitably clean.”

You gestured to the mess of food and other miscellaneous items that had fallen off of mostly toppled shelves, and Johnathan gave a sheepish apology. “I’ll be back.”

“I’m counting on it.”

He disappeared into the night, or rather a black portal that opened under his feet once he stepped outside, and you were once again left sitting behind the counter and alone with your thoughts, the sounds of distant sirens getting louder every second, only this time you had something to look forward too the next time you clocked in and the Spot had a new motivation for his newfound criminal activity.

#across the spiderverse #atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #spider man #the spot #jonathan ohnn #johnathan ohnn x reader #spiderverse the spot #the spot across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #the spot atsv

[hysteriamodes]

After watching “Gone Girl”.

So, uh, I have an unpopular opinion. I’m no expert on criminal investigations, I listen to a bunch of true crime podcasts, one that has a co-host, a retired detective, Paul Holes. I’m also a survivor of CSA, so I know how it goes down once you file a case to police and talked to a detective. 

I can’t really say I like this movie completely -- don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, but... This is not how it works, lol.

It’s hard to really take a story seriously, knowing in real life that a criminal investigation into a disappearance would involve:

- Not just interviewing the spouse/significant other, interviewing those who have been previously romantically involved with someone. - Someone would have talked to Desi - Someone would have also looked into the stalking claims against Desi and if he was supposedly doing it electronically, there would have been a paper trail. Restraining orders are really hard to get. - If you buy a car and have to drive it, you need legitimate identification, have the title singed over, and register the car in your name, so the “getaway car” just seems so unfeasible to me. You can’t drive without plates, you’d get pulled over and sellers will take the plates from you. - Also, if you look on Craig’s List, it’s on your internet history. - They also would have had search warrants for electronic devices, including computers, and would have gone through that internet history. - You can pay cash for short-term rentals or hotels, but they still require ID. - Burner phones can be traced - “No body, no crime” -- the case built against Nick is completely circumstantial. Any rational prosecutor would have tossed it out and demanded more evidence, especially if no one’s double-checking for more suspects. The amount of blood they found at the crime scene is indicative of serious injury. Blunt-force injury like that as Amy claimed what happened would leave visible bruises, even for weeks, and would also have fractures. This lady rolls up (literally) to her husband  just covered in blood and has no sign of that other than sexual intercourse. -  CSI would have probed the convenient box cutter under the pillow, while she was supposedly tied up. I mean, seriously, what the hell? - Any investigator would be dubious of Amy’s responses during that interview. According to her, she was kidnapped and held for weeks, supposedly injured, and is so unusually cool.  - In the same vein, you would have a victim’s advocate to check in on you and they too would fin that unusual.  - They would bother to check Nick’s alibis, whereabouts, and where he was, so therefore, the credit card debt would look extremely dubious. Transaction IDs wouldn’t line up if Nick was out of the house, doing his thing, and Amy is buying stuff with his credit cards while he’s at work. Just saying. - Any smart investigator would have looked at the security footage of Desi and Amy calmly strolling up through the lake house, not of her being dragged in or at least sedated. Anyone sharp enough would have noticed that.  - Desi’s phone would also have been traceable, so they would find out where he went, the casino, and there would have been security footage of Amy and Desi meeting. - Who’s to say that the people that robbed Amy didn’t notice. That woman saw through her shitty disguise and said nothing.  There was a reward posted for finding Amy; that woman also could have called into the tip line and report her stay at this hotel or whatever. - The “clues”. A sensible person would have found them oh, so, convenient.  - The “best friend” would have been interviewed, they would also disclose how long their friendship has been. - The hormone that comes up during pregnancy, that’s been diluted in water, wouldn’t be so potent enough to test... I’m still wondering what Amy’s motives were, she didn’t show Nick. She only showed her “friend” and it’s still not clear to me if the investigators checked into this. 

I guess because I’m on the aro-ace spectrum, I probably don’t appreciate what this movie says about relationships and their roles and perceptions, but my thoughts were that Amy is clearly a sociopath, she has a troubled history, and that would have came up during investigations. Not to mention, Amy is just too Perfect, to the point she supposedly outwits the FBI. These are the same folks that work in more notorious disappearances, murders, and profiling outside of a self-absorbed couple. It just reminds me that law enforcement doesn’t take women criminals a seriously compared to men. Women are just as capable of absolute sociopathy as men, though there aren’t as many sociopathic women. Women that commit murder, schemes, and behave like this operate on a completely level compared to men.

The bottom line is, women that are criminals are underestimated and that’s what I saw in this movie. Sure, Nick is an absolute asshole, but he at least was knocked down a peg to see his own faults, even going as far as saying he won’t end the marriage for the sake of his unborn child (and... don’t get me started how Amy just conveniently came up with Nick’s sperm sample, after she said to him she didn’t want kids) upon discovering he’s going to be a father.

Amy could have ended this marriage in a divorce and bled him dry of his money. She could have ceased that bar, sold it, even take his sister to court because she was a co-owner, too. And given the “Amazing Amy” books, Nick still would have been publicly humiliated and even more humiliation would have came to him. A teacher, a well-known writer, having an affair with his students? I mean, come on. His friends would dump his ass, too.

Instead, Amy over-reacts, concocts this supposed disappearance and fabricated murder, in the 21st century, where even in the mid 2010s, you are completely traceable. Amy could have disposed of evidence all she wants, but the fact remains, people are nosy as fuck and would have noticed any of this shit. Amy, realistically, wouldn’t get away with this forever; she’d be sent to prison for life.  

Amy isn’t like Thomason or Dani, she is a selfish, manipulative, and petty person. Thomason and Dani were true victims of circumstance and were so horribly traumatized, so caught up in hysteria and apathy subjected to them by men. Amy isn’t a victim; she had every chance to walk out of this, take ownership. If I was around a guy like Nick? I would have left him a long time ago. And I know that this whole movie is based on perception, but someone who’s so clearly narcissistic and so devoid of personality that she molds herself into the ideal “cool girl” would wise up and find another way, but no.

Yes, there is an argument that “women are crazy here”, but I just... I can’t. 

I found myself more frustrated with this movie, so riddled with continuity errors and that it’s so unrealistic, with a narrator that may or may not be lying to the audience, who is also Completely Prefect and Untouchable that she’s practically a Mary Sue. 

I’m also mad because there is a perception that women can make fake rape allegations and are already portrayed as conniving and scheming, and I feel like this movie just completely fed into these stereotypes. I will concede that it was likely doing that on purpose, but still, it’s not helping!  Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good movie, everyone was really cool in it, and I’m sure the book is very different, but holy shit, this is like a bad episode of Law & Order: SVU.

#eeeeehhhhh #gone girl #murderino #this is not how it works #anyway i love SVU #this wold be olivia's worst nightmare lmao