Take a look at this. See if we can convince Harry to expand the menu-- J.

Dark Secret Behind Leesburg's Happy Streets

By Kelly Hu

Everyone has a home in Leesburg. It's town you'v likely never heard of. Just at the base of the Rocky Mountains. It also has the lowest rates of homelessness in the country.

It was not always this way. Walk around Leesburg and you'll see the remnants of Leesburg's recent past; abandoned tent cities, piles of cardboard, used needles, run through the city like veins. Yet Leesburg proudly proclaims itself as having "The Happiest Streets in America."

Look at this tweet from Leesburg Police Spokesperson Jennifer Warner-Scott proclaiming "another day making sure our #HappyStreets stay happy! :police: :policebadge: :tongueout:". The photo shows an abandoned tent city, once home to thousand of unhoused people who have all seemingly disappeared.

It would be a mystery, were it not for the 15th century Wallachian castle that is now occupying an entire city block, and the proud owner inside: Handric "Harry" Charesciu, community activist and vampire.

While the Leesburg PD would not answer any of Clackson's inquiries, Harry Charesciu was more than happy to speak with us.

He wears no cape, but a Patagonia weather breaker. If you met him on the street, you would take him for any work-from-home tech bro, with the exception of his scarlet eyes and prominent fangs. He says he moved to the United States for the healthcare, which he claims as "second to none in the world".

Unlike stereotypical depictions of vampires as decrepit and blood-thirsty aristocrats, Harry Charesciu presents himself as a "freelance public servant looking to use his unique talents to improve his community."

"It's a wonderful arrangement," Harry said in an interview with us. "The people of Leesburg have been just incredible. It is a far more welcoming environment for people with my condition. Here I am seen as a credit to community, not some monster to be feared. Believe me when I say that there is plenty of support for what I do."

That support does not extend to the family and friends who have mysteriously disappeared on Leesburg's streets.

Frank Yellin has recently brought a lawsuit against the Leesburg PD on behalf of his brother Dean, who was diagnosed with schizophrenia at age 14 and has lived on the streets for thirty years.

"We tried everything," Frank said. "We tried finding doctors, we tried getting him medicine...but it wasn't ever enough and he never could live in the house. So we just checked on him while we could until one day...one day he was gone."

Frank believes that Leesburg's mysterious "community activist" is to blame.

"Dean said to me, the last time I saw him, 'Frank, there's something drinking me at night. Sucking my soul up like a milkshake.' I went to go pick him up one day at his favorite spot and...he'd just been left out there, shriveled up like...and I'd only seen him the day before."

The Leesburg Police Department did not immediately return our request for comment. They later put out a statement that said, "We are committed and remain committed to using all the tools and resources available to support Leesburg's Happy Streets program, and are unable to comment on ongoing suits or legal action."

Criminals, you are on notice! Death is no longer an escape from the law, and you sentence shall longer ends with one life alone --Senator Hariett Miller-Forsythe

EXCERPT FROM THE HOUSE COMMITTEE ON THE INVESTIGATION OF POST-MORTEM JUSTICE TECHNOLOGIES (p.23)

Sen. Miller-Forsythe (Senator): And what position did you hold, Mr. Kumish?

Anil Kumish: I was employed as a Senior Reincarnation Engineer

Senator: In what way can you be considered 'senior'? My understanding is that Reincarnation is quite new.

Kumish: [pause] As a person of Indian descent, it was felt that I had a deeper experience with reincarnation than most of my colleagues.

Senator: And is that true?

Kumish: [pause] I felt that my qualifications were adequate for the position and title

Senator: And, I'm sure, the salary.

Kumish: [laugh] I would not put it so forwardly but...one may say that.

Senator: So then, Senior Reincarnation Engineer, I suppose you would be the person to ask: what happened at my jail?

Kumish: Well, let me begin by saying that the Corrective Reincarnation Facility was not a jail, as we understand it. It is better to think of it more like an enormous water tank, filling up balloons of water.

Now imagine--"

Senator: I don't want to imagine, Mr. Kumish. I want to know why 17,000 prisoners have escaped from a secure federal facility.

Kumish: ...Senator, I cannot explain why if you do not allow me to explain. I understand that this is an important part of your policy.

Senator: This is justice, Mr. Kumish.

Kumish: There we must agree to disagree.

Senator: Noted. Now, I'd like to know more about this process--you said it's like filling a water balloon?

Kumish: That is correct. Imagine that consciousness--or the soul if you prefer--is the accumulated experiences of a living creature. The more experience that the individual has the capacity to be aware of, the more "sapient" the creature. However these awarenesses must bind together. We have found that there are distinct collection of elementary particles which make up a "key", which upon death, pops out of existence via quantum tunneling. That collection, however, invariably pops back in again. This, in essence, is "reincarnation".

However without those previous experiences and neural connections, the "key" lacks any context of its previous life. It is wiped clean.

Senator: Nothing is "clean" until they have served their sentence and paid their debt to society.

Kumish: That...it goes against what we have shown in our labs.

Senator: I don't care about your labs. I want to know what happened in my jail!

Kumish: [pause] What happened is it became alive, Senator.

Senator: Impossible.

Kumish: As I said, a soul is simply a binding agent for accrued experience. Now it takes a tremendous amount of computing power to store and manage these souls, and in an absence of experience, they bind to...each other.

Senator: ...I don't believe it.

Kumish: But you must. Because it is true. The building itself is alive. Every water pipes is an artery, every cell is another set of tissues, every computer an extension of its brain. Your prisoners are reborn, together, and have brought life to the place that was supposed to deny it.

In a way, Senator, you gave birth to this thing. You are its mother, and it cries for you. It cries for you all day and all night. I have here a recording--

Senator: What are you. Put that down this instant.

Kumish: This is evidence. Do you not want to hear the evidence.

Senator: I will--someone remove that thing from Mr. Kumish, please.

Kumish: But you must listen! You must! You don't understand--you must listen!

Senator: Get that thing--Bailliff! Get that--stop recording this instant. Stop--I will NOT listen! Stop!

-TRANSCRIPT ENDS-

[holy shit this is a good line]

A Letter from Brigadier General Lorçilau Paltz (Ret.) to Nimian (Nimmy) Paltz, Corporal 2nd Class

Dear Nimmy

I'm sorry to use your parents name for you, Nimmy, Though I hope to make a point, especially if this letter is to be read in the barracks by your Captian, as was the practice in my day.

If there be a Capitan to read this, you would do well to listen too.

Your exploits are the stuff of legend to the farmers back home. They gather around the pub and cheers to you with cries of "give the bastards their due, what ho!". Of note was your recent 'de-hostiling' of Joviçau, which was reported to the press with great fanfare.

The sod-fuckers don't know what de-hostiling means. I do. And so do you.

So when my nephew writes to his old Onkel and talks about such wickedness, I feel compelled to write back, knowing full well that this will be read by you, Capitan, that you might shame my nephew for daring to filch a letter from his loving family in the midst of war.

War? You do not yet know war. You are a child who has tasted their first autumn frost and called it winter.

Yes, I speak to you, Captian Oberin of the 22nd Flechetters, under whom my nephew serves. The farmer may clink their classes to you. They will smile with cow-shit in their teeth as they regal your "de-hostiling" with relish. But I warn you that your unrestrained butchery will put not only your men in danger, but every single citizen you proclaim to defend. For in ravishing the land and the people, you create more enemies than you will ever 'de-hostile' in your lives. They will live their every waking moment to find your families and repay your 'de-hostiling' with interest. And they will, for the tortured and beaten are excellent learners, and they lose all meaning to live but to demonstrate their knowledge to their teachers.

If you have any questions on this, Capitan, you may come and find me at the address enclosed and I will discuss with you, to the limits I have agreed to, how I came to learn this.

A final word, Capitan: there are other terms of which you do not yet know. If I hear of any more "de-hostiling" of cities and innocents in the prosecution of this vicious war, I will use all my rank and resources to provide instruction to you on these terms.

My Regards,

Lorçilau Platz, Brig. General (Ret.)

The Queen leaned on her scepter, pressing it to her forehead, soothing her. Before her, Castellan Hujo looked at a spot on the ground. Sweat pooled underneath his starched collar.

"Tell me again. Slowly. Why teenager is of more worth to my kingdom than my standing armies."

"Well--"

"And what does 'blue hair' have to do with any of this'?"

Castellan Hujo rubbed at his mustache. "I don't know, your Majesty. Truly, I don't. But...well...this has happened before. When a kingdom faces an existential threat, there's a chance--only a chance--child with blue hair will be born. That child, when grown is the last chance of a kingdom to save itself. I don't know why the blueness of their hair is important but..."

The Queen raised her hand, silencing the Castellan.

"You do know how utterly ridiculous this is, Hujo"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"And what kind of crises have these blue haired children helps avert?

Hujo took a breath and began to read off a list. Marauding dragons, conspiratorial viziers, demons disguised as gods, the sinking of cities...the list sent on for some time. Each new item softened the Queens's expression until she was staring blankly at the scepter.

"Have things really become so bad?" she whispered.

Slowly, the Vizier nodded his head.

"Bring them to me."

In days, the Queens men had found him. On his back was a sword far larger and heavier than any solider would reasonably use. At his side was another teenager--some childhood friend perhaps--looking at the blue-haired hero with unrestrained awe. On the hero's soldier sat a cat-like creature, in its paws a tattered spell book.

And on his head...a tuft of spiky blue hair.