{"sf1_id":1666412,"sf2_id":"214pa3d1","title":"The Leaves of Fall Act 2: Fear the Nobodies (Part 27)","author":"Oliver_Hart","words":3189,"posted_at":"2020-12-28T02:13:29.000Z","tags":["Adventure","Alternate Reality","Anon","Boy","Brother","Bunny","Classroom","Couple","Emo","Fight","Girl","Green text","Greentext","HMOFA","Halloween","Heterosexual","High School","Hmofa/","Human","Kissing","Plot Development","Rabbit","Siblings","Slow burn","Young Romance","anthro/human"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1666412-the-leaves-of-fall-act-2-fear-the-nobodies-part-27","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/214pa3d1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/e1/87/e1875711-20c3-4f1e-86e1-5070fcd036e4","description":"You've never really 'fit in' with the heavily divided Ranchview High School crowd. Jock, Goth, Prep, Cheerleader, Nerd... you were never any of these. But as Halloween approaches, strange things start happening, and a dark ritual begins with the finding of a curious red book. It's a race against time for you and your friends to stop a group of students from ushering in an age of darkness, and to also figure out just what the hell is wrong with that rabbit.  \n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  \n  \nAbout this version: originally, The Leaves of Fall was split into two pastebins to compensate for the length of the story. Given that pastebin has chosen to censor this story for ambiguous reasons, it will forever be stored here and on AO3. This new version contains spelling, grammar and content fixes. Please understand that the content is all the same as the earlier versions minus some sentences being changed and fixed up. I cannot stress this enough: no new content has been added. It's my hope that this is a cleaner, easier-to-read version of the story.  \n  \nCover: [https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q](https://imgur.com/a/vZS4Q)  \nSam (drawn by Akella of /hmofa/) [https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT](https://imgur.com/a/nk3t1wT)  \nFan art collection: [https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv](https://imgur.com/a/SCCSIQv)  \nAccompanying playlist (WIP): [https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410\\_nI-0J](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9aXlzDRA49QKxgYsOV2JuDd410_nI-0J)  \nAlternative link: [https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078](https://www.sofurry.com/view/1479078)  \nTotal word count: 147,552 words","content":"\\\u003eYou are Sam  \n\\\u003eJacob was 18, you were 12 now  \n\\\u003eBut he still couldn’t get dinner right, leaving you to do the cooking (as usual)  \n\\\u003eYou didn’t mind one bit  \n\\\u003eYou liked it  \n“Y-You gotta measure the m-m-milk properly, or else it’s w-w-watery,” you say, watching your older brother eyeball a glass of milk  \n\\\u003e”This would be easier if we had measuring cups,” he says with a groan, resting his head down on the table  \n\\\u003eA bottle of amber whiskey isn’t far from his grip  \n\\\u003eHe looks older now, more harshed by the world  \n\\\u003eHis brown fur is frayed and unkempt, growing wild  \n\\\u003eHis body is trimmed of fat and now lean with muscle  \n\\\u003eHe stopped going to school  \n\\\u003eHe started drinking and smoking more in its absence  \n\\\u003eFighting more  \n\\\u003eAnd dodging trains more too, when he lost a fight, or when he couldn’t get a hold of his nerves  \n\\\u003eYou’ve been going with him usually when mom and dad fight, or dad gets too drunk  \n\\\u003eYou’re scared out of your god damn mind every time  \n\\\u003eAnd yet you went to feel the safety of distance from you and this house  \n\\\u003eTo have your brother buy you comic books at the gas station (some he buys for himself)  \n  \n\\\u003eYou stand above the stove, elbow noodles roiling in the scalded pot  \n\\\u003eWhenever mom and dad weren’t home, you could breathe a bit easier  \n“R-Ready with the b-butter?” You kill the flame on the noodles and hoist the heavy pot off the stove with a great effort  \n\\\u003eYour thin arms shake under the weight  \n\\\u003e”Sure,” he sighs, uninterested, a half-finished cup of whiskey at his side. His head is on an easy swivel as he scans around the kitchen, already forgetting what you asked him to do  \n\\\u003eYou rest the pot in the sink and drain the water, using a fork to try and keep the noodles from slipping down the drain  \n\\\u003eMac and cheese was what you made when you made dinner, and that was only if you ate  \n\\\u003eMost of the money went towards rent, then dad’s drinking, mom’s smokes  \n\\\u003e Jacob stole anything leftover to buy cigarettes or something else to drink  \n\\\u003eOn the plus side, you’ve gotten great at surviving off one meal a day, and learned to save your free school lunch for when times were especially lean  \n\\\u003eYou might have been a coward  \n\\\u003eBut you were resourceful  \n  \n\\\u003eJacob eats in silence, his glass of drink filled up yet again for the third time  \n\\\u003eYou can smell it on him  \n\\\u003eHe talked little, just stared absently, eyes clouding over with dark thoughts, the angular features of his jaw set in a hard line  \n\\\u003eHe reminded you too much of dad  \n\\\u003eBut he wasn’t as cruel as dad or mom  \n\\\u003eJacob was hard sometimes, but you knew it was only because he was trying to give you something  \n\\\u003eSelf-reliance  \n\\\u003e”You ever seen dad’s old gun?” He asks, suddenly, his plate barely touched  \n\\\u003eA dumb smile goes across his face  \n“N-No. D-D-Dad has a gun?” You say  \n\\\u003eYou hated guns  \n\\\u003eThey meant death  \n\\\u003e”Of course he’s got a gun, Sam. From when he served in the war. ‘Member all those stories he told us? I think he stole it too.”  \n“R-Right,” you say to your plate, keeping your eyes down out of sudden anxiety  \n\\\u003e”Sam. Look at me.” Jacob says  \n\\\u003eYou look up  \n\\\u003eAnd look down the barrel of a pistol  \n\\\u003eA black hole of nothing, encased in cold steel that gleams like clean silver  \n\\\u003eJacob is smirking, his fingers teasing at the trigger  \n\\\u003e”BAM!” He screams, pressing hard  \n\\\u003eYou shriek  \n\\\u003eThe gun clicks uselessly, its magazine spent and chamber void  \n\\\u003eWhen you finally look up, Jacob is howling with laughter  \n\\\u003e”Come on Sammy, did you seriously think I loaded it?”  \n\\\u003eYou try to stammer out a response but feel your throat tightening, tears springing to the corners of your eyes  \n\\\u003eGod damnit  \n\\\u003eYou coward  \n\\\u003eYou utter fucking coward  \n\\\u003eGet a hold of yourself  \n\\\u003eJacob stops laughing when he sees your face  \n\\\u003eThere’s a flash of anger behind his eyes  \n\\\u003eOne that reminds you of dad  \n\\\u003eHe sets the gun down on the table  \n\\\u003eIt’s loud and heavy, and you know it couldn’t weigh more than a pound or two, but it sounds like it weighs a ton  \n\\\u003e”Jesus, Sam. It was only a joke. Are you seriously going to be a bitch about this too?”  \n“I-I-I don’t-”  \n\\\u003e”You’re such a little baby. It was just a fucking joke.”   \n\\\u003eNow the tears come  \n\\\u003eYou can’t control it  \n\\\u003eYou cry at everything, don’t you, you big baby?  \n\\\u003eJacob’s face flashes with anger — and he holds that anger for a few seconds — until his exterior falls apart like ice met with a flamethrower  \n\\\u003e”C’mon…” he nudges your arm  \n\\\u003e”You’re bigger than this, right? You’re a tough kid.”  \n\\\u003eYou jerk your head back and forth, ears flopping side-to-side  \n\\\u003eYour short, unwashed hair follows your ears  \n“I-I’m n-not. I’m s-s-sorry for… I got so sc-scared.”  \n\\\u003eJacob looks lost  \n\\\u003eThough his expression hardens back into a stoic, almost cold stare, the slight frown pursing his lips says he’s still unhappy with your tears  \n\\\u003eAnd why shouldn’t he be?  \n\\\u003eIt wasn’t loaded  \n\\\u003eAmazing though, isn’t it? The first thing you do when confronted with anything frightening or dangerous is to cry  \n\\\u003eAnd now you’re making life hard for everyone — just like you always have  \n\\\u003eLike the burden you are  \n\\\u003eThose words ring loud and clear in your head  \n\\\u003eBurden  \n\\\u003eBurden  \n\\\u003eBurden  \n\\\u003e”Sammy?”  \n\\\u003eJacob is standing up now  \n\\\u003e”Do you hear that?”  \n\\\u003eYour ears twitch  \n\\\u003eThe sound of metal clicking, locks turning, like the sound of nuclear missiles bursting from their silos, screaming across the sky  \n\\\u003e”Fucking shit. I think it’s dad,” Jacob says  \n\\\u003eYou stand up too, the old and shitty chair squealing in protest against the horribly dirty tile floors  \n\\\u003eHeavy, drunken footsteps approach the kitchen  \n\\\u003eYour dad stands in the opening leading to the family room, looking leaner and more feral than before  \n\\\u003eHis dark brown fur is tossed, unwashed, and scraggled  \n\\\u003eHe’s wearing an old, dirty work shirt stained with oil, heavy, baggy work pants and boots  \n\\\u003eThere’s a fresh bottle of Jack in his hands  \n\\\u003eHis eyes coldly scan over Jacob, reflecting nothing  \n\\\u003eWhen they linger on you, you swear you can see lightning in his eyes  \n\\\u003eHis eyes flick towards the table and narrow on the old pistol  \n\\\u003eYou shiver a bit  \n\\\u003eThat look only meant hell  \n\\\u003e”Dad-” Jacob starts  \n\\\u003e”Shut the fuck up,” he commands, eyes still fixed on the gun  \n\\\u003eJacob tightens his fists  \n\\\u003e”Is that my gun?” Dad says with a simmer in his voice. “You been in my room?”  \n\\\u003eHe turns his eyes on you and steps forward into the kitchen  \n\\\u003e”Hey, bitch, you been fucking around in my room?” He asks you directly  \n\\\u003eYour legs start to quiver, and a rush of adrenaline hits your system  \n\\\u003eIt’s almost instinctual at this point — the terror  \n\\\u003eThe fight or flight or freeze  \n\\\u003eYou always freeze or flee  \n\\\u003eBoth a mix of cowardice and learned behavior on your part, you figure  \n\\\u003eDad looks ready to fuck you up something awful  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to stammer an apology, but before you can start speaking, Jacob cuts in  \n\\\u003e”It was me,” he says with finality. “I found the gun. Not my sister.”  \n\\\u003eJacob sneaks a look at you, and it’s so full of coldness and determination that you could swear it’s like looking at dad 15 years ago  \n\\\u003eWhy?  \n\\\u003eYou can understand that he hates you, but you wish you knew why?  \n\\\u003eIs it because you’re always hiding behind him?  \n\\\u003eEven now what separates you from your dad is a few feet of table and the muscular, feral frame of Jacob  \n\\\u003e”Don’t protect her,” Dad snarls. “Don’t you dare protect that fucking burden. You hear me, boy?”  \n\\\u003e”I’m not protecting her because it wasn’t her, you old fuck. I found the gun.”  \n\\\u003eDad turns his snarl onto Jacob  \n\\\u003e”You’re talking a lot like a man. Watch your fucking mouth.”  \n\\\u003eYour brother doesn’t move  \n\\\u003eDoesn’t even flinch  \n\\\u003e”I’m a man now,” Jacob says  \n\\\u003eHis voice comes out in a whisper  \n\\\u003eSo quiet you can even hear your dad’s ragged breathing  \n\\\u003e”Got something to say?” He sets the bottle down on the counter to his right  \n\\\u003eHe’s tender with the whiskey  \n\\\u003eJust not with anyone else  \n\\\u003eNot even mom  \n\\\u003eJacob purses his lips and throws his gaze to the side  \n\\\u003eDad stomps forward  \n\\\u003e”I said: you got something to say, faggot?”  \n\\\u003eYour brother cocks his head forward, staring straight down dad’s gaze  \n\\\u003eIt’s like staring down the barrel of a loaded gun  \n\\\u003e”I’m a man now.”  \n\\\u003eDad smirks  \n\\\u003eThat devil smirk…  \n\\\u003e”Oh you’re a man? You’re gonna act like a man, you smart mouthed little shit.”  \n\\\u003eYou close your eyes and wait for the violence to come  \n\\\u003eNothing but the sound of heavy breathing and your heart pounding in your chest  \n\\\u003eSomething clatters onto the table, stirring your nerves  \n\\\u003eAnd not just one thing  \n\\\u003eSeveral things, all bouncing off the table  \n\\\u003eHeavy, and metal, with a dense weight  \n\\\u003eLike little stones  \n\\\u003eYou open your eyes  \n\\\u003eThere’s a few bullets littering the table, gleaming brass in the kitchen light  \n\\\u003e”You’re a man? Take those bullets. Load that gun,” Dad says  \n\\\u003eDad knocks the lid off the bottle of whiskey and throws it back for a dirty swig, saturating his fur  \n\\\u003eHe smelled of oil and smoke, and now of his old friend Jack stain him  \n\\\u003eJacob is already loading the gun  \n“W-Wait!” You squeak. “J-Jake, don’t!”  \n\\\u003eYour pathetic pleading falls on deaf ears  \n\\\u003eYou know he can hear you, he just doesn’t seem to care  \n\\\u003eJacob loads the magazine into the pistol, cocks it back with a mechanical \\*click\\*, and levels it at his Father  \n\\\u003eDad just smiles  \n\\\u003e”I won’t even move,” he says, taking another swig  \n\\\u003eJacob is breathing hard, the strain on his face coming out in creased lines and furrowed brows  \n\\\u003e”C’mon, do it. Prove you’re some kind of man. Put one right between my eyes.” Dad says  \n\\\u003eAnd then he starts to laugh, but you don’t hear it  \n\\\u003eEverything goes quiet  \n\\\u003eThe buzz of the light bulb above you  \n\\\u003eThe sound of whiskey running down dad’s throat  \n\\\u003eHis laughter  \n\\\u003eJacob’s heaving breaths  \n\\\u003eEven your own heartbeat  \n\\\u003eAll of these are thrown into a quiet abyss  \n\\\u003eJacob’s fingers twitch  \n\\\u003eYour eyes slam shut instinctively  \n\\\u003eThere’s a concussive blast that explodes against your eardrums, shattering the stasis  \n\\\u003eAnd you know what happened without even having to open your eyes  \n  \n\\\u003eDad casts an easy glance above him, at the bullet hole punched in the door frame  \n\\\u003e”I thought so. You fucking coward.”  \n  \n\\\u003eJacob’s whole body is trembling  \n\\\u003eHot air rolls in and out of his heaving chest  \n\\\u003eSweat dampens his fur, and you can smell the scent of gunpowder and smoke  \n\\\u003eHe lowers the gun, slowly, like it weighed 50 pounds even  \n\\\u003eIn one swift, angry movement, dad reaches forward, snatches the gun from Jacob’s shaky grip, and…  \n\\\u003eThere’s a flash of silver as the butt of the pistol smashes across Jacob’s jaw  \n\\\u003eYour older brother, your guardian and protector, leans against the table for support, whole body still shaking with adrenaline and pain, blood funneling from his nose  \n\\\u003e”Don’t you EVER go messing with my shit again, you hear me? You ain’t no man, so don’t go acting like it.”   \n\\\u003eDad quickly drains Jacob’s glass of whiskey  \n\\\u003eAs if you were an after thought, he forces his attention on you  \n\\\u003e”Got something to say to me?”  \n\\\u003eYou notice you’re doing a whole lot of staring and nothing else  \n\\\u003eDo you have something to say?  \n\\\u003eShould you apologize?  \n\\\u003eYou didn’t really do anything wrong, right?  \n\\\u003eJacob flashes a vulnerable look at you, his eye rapidly swelling, blood threading down his fur from the corner of his lips  \n\\\u003eThere’s a silent plea in his gaze  \n\\\u003eLaid out and desperate  \n“N-No sir. I-I’m s-s-sorry sir,” you stutter  \n\\\u003eJacob’s eyes fall shut  \n\\\u003e”God, just listening to you talk pisses me off. Fix your damn mouth. Y-Y-Y-Y-You retard.”  \n\\\u003e”I ca-can’t he-help it-”  \n“You’re just trying to piss me off now, aren’t you?”  \n\\\u003eNo! You just…  \n\\\u003eYou don’t know what to say!  \n\\\u003eMaybe it’s better to say nothing?  \n\\\u003eYou open your mouth to speak but force it back shut  \n\\\u003eGod you hate yourself  \n\\\u003eGod you hate yourself  \n\\\u003eGod you hate yourself  \n\\\u003eGod you hate yourself  \n\\\u003e”Get the fuck out of here,” your father commands. “And take your pussy brother with you.”   \n\\\u003eJacob struggles to his feet  \n\\\u003eHe gives Dad a savage, bloody scowl  \n\\\u003eAnd then turns to face you, hate carved into the lines of his face  \n\\\u003eHe grabs you by the wrist, tears leaking from his eyes  \n\\\u003e”C’mon, let’s go, Sam.” He yanks at your fur, sending pain shooting up your arm  \n\\\u003eJacob leads you out of the kitchen like an impatient boy pulling a small puppy on a leash  \n\\\u003eIt’s probably best not to resist right now  \n\\\u003eYou throw one quick glance over your shoulder  \n\\\u003eDad is sitting at the table, gun in one hand, bottle in the other, a pack of cigarettes budding from his oil-stained shirt pocket like they were white flowers  \n  \n\\\u003eYou know where you’re going  \n\\\u003eEven in the darkness, you can tell by the familiar tracks in the shattered pavement where Jacob is taking you  \n\\\u003eHe does this all the time  \n\\\u003eWhen he’s angry  \n\\\u003eDepressed  \n\\\u003eUpset  \n\\\u003eHad a bad fight  \n\\\u003eLost a bad fight  \n\\\u003eA train roars in the night like an invisible, incomprehensibly large animal rolling over in its sleep  \n\\\u003eThe lights flicker out over head; most of them don’t even bother to come on as Jacob drags you away from home  \n\\\u003eSome time passes before he speaks, his voice tinged with fury  \n\\\u003e”What the FUCK Sam. What the FUCK is wrong with you?”  \n\\\u003eYou say nothing, only swallow hard, like you understand  \n\\\u003eBest to just let him talk before you make it worse  \n\\\u003e”I mean, you could have said something. You could have done something. I- I don’t know! All you do-” He tenses his grip on your wrist  \n\\\u003eYou squeak in pain as his his coarse fingers ring your wrists, pressing marks into your flesh  \n\\\u003eAs long as he gets out his anger safely with you, it’s for the best  \n\\\u003e”-All you do is stutter, and cower, and hide, and wimp out, and let shit happen to you! And then to me! We’re supposed to be on the same team here, and all you fucking do is keep your head down.”   \n\\\u003eYou stumble in trying to keep up with his pace  \n\\\u003eThe houses thin out as grass and weeds overtake the pavement  \n\\\u003eSoon the stooped houses disappear entirely, leading only to empty warehouses, unused plots, and industrial refuse  \n\\\u003eThat train horn booms in the distance, as if it knows you’re coming  \n\\\u003e”Well!?” Jacob yells  \n\\\u003eYou can hear the heat in his voice  \n\\\u003eYou’re almost glad you can’t make out his face in this darkness  \n\\\u003e”You gonna say something? Or are you going to keep your mouth shut like you always do when shit gets tough?”  \n\\\u003eAnd what can you say now, after you’ve yet again hurt your brother and fucked things up?  \n\\\u003eGood going, Sam  \n\\\u003eYou had this one chance to stand up for your brother and for yourself, and you let it go  \n\\\u003eYou shake your head and stay silent  \n\\\u003e”Well you’re not going to pussy out on me again. Not this time,” Jacob says from behind clenched teeth  \n  \n\\\u003ePast the quarry  \n\\\u003eOver the river bends  \n\\\u003eBridges  \n\\\u003eSheds  \n\\\u003eWarehouses  \n\\\u003eWhere there are no houses  \n\\\u003eWhere the fields spread out even further and the stars creep out from behind clouds  \n\\\u003eYou know where you’re going  \n\\\u003eCloser now  \n\\\u003eYour heart starts to hammer when you see the tracks laid into the ground  \n\\\u003eJacob drags you down into the old pit where the train runs through, tunnels on each side  \n\\\u003eA horn blares — it’s close now, but it’s even worse because you can’t see it  \n\\\u003eHe pulls you onto the tracks, gripping you by the ears  \n\\\u003eIt must be instinct, because you try to sprint away  \n\\\u003eThis is the way it’ll always be, you guess — you cowering and running  \n\\\u003eYour older brother was too much like Dad  \n\\\u003eHe grabs you by your dangling ears and yanks hard  \n\\\u003eYou scream in pain  \n“Jacob!” You pull desperately at his hands “W-We don’t need to do this! P-Please let me go!”  \n\\\u003eYour pleas fall on deaf ears as you’re dragged onto the ties  \n\\\u003eYou’re just watching for smoke in the moonlight now, sweat beading down your forehead, saturating your fur  \n\\\u003e”Shut the fuck up and stay there. You understand me? Don’t move. Not even an inch. Not until I say so.”  \n\\\u003eHis words make you shiver  \n\\\u003e”One god damn inch too soon and I’ll break your legs.”  \n\\\u003eHe shouts above the oncoming squeal of the train, your sensitive ears twitching at his hot whiskey breath   \n\\\u003eYour brother steps away from you, leaving you upright on the tracks, facing the opening of the tunnel  \n\\\u003eAnd you can see a spot of light, like an angry nail in the darkness  \n\\\u003eGrowing larger  \n\\\u003e”You will not move. Not until I tell you to.”  \n\\\u003eThe train whistle shrieks as the ground\u0026nbsp; rumbles  \n\\\u003e”HOLD YOUR GROUND! IGNORE EVERYTHING ELSE BUT ME!”  \n\\\u003eProve yourself  \n\\\u003eProve your bravery  \n\\\u003eGrow the fuck up, Sam  \n\\\u003eYour brother is saying something else to you over the shuddering sound of steel barreling forward, but you can’t hear him  \n\\\u003eEverything goes quiet   \n\\\u003eThe engine is roaring forward, that train shot forward like a bullet aimed right between your amber eyes  \n\\\u003eThere is only you and that train  \n\\\u003eIt’s so close that you swear you can feel the heat coming off of it  \n\\\u003eEverything is deaf, muted, blunted, a galactic mile away  \n\\\u003eJust you  \n\\\u003eAnd that train  \n\\\u003eThe rush takes over your head, like a flood of adrenaline and blood pounding in your ear to the speed of locomotive engine piston rods  \n\\\u003eYou can feel your legs again  \n\\\u003eYou can hear your heart hammering in your delicate ribcage, pounding war-drums in the crevices of your skull  \n\\\u003eAnd you can hear Jacob at last  \n\\\u003e”Holllddddd!” Jacob shrieks over the worried blare of the train’s horn  \n\\\u003eYOU CAN FEEL YOUR LEGS AGAIN  \n\\\u003e”Holddddd!”  \n\\\u003eDon’t move  \n\\\u003eMOVE NOW!  \n\\\u003e”HOLD!”  \n\\\u003eMOVE!  \n\\\u003eThe train blasts out of the tunnel, its horn screaming in panic as its brakes squeal and struggle to halt 200 tons of steel and coal-fired velocity  \n\\\u003e”HOLD!!!”  \n  \n\\\u003eYour fear sends you toppling from the tracks onto the cold, hard dirt  \n\\\u003eYou hit the ground face first, and then you just lay there as the train rumbles past you  \n\\\u003eYou’re frozen in panic and pain  \n\\\u003eYou don’t want to move, you don’t want to be alive  \n\\\u003eYou want the thrumming beat of your heart to stop altogether  \n\\\u003eThen you look up and see Jacob towering over you, that devil-look etched into his face with his father’s hands  \n\\\u003e”That’s no dodge, you fucking coward.”  \n\\\u003eThe train rolls by in the night  \n\\\u003eIt’d take miles for it to come to a full stop","series":{"name":"The Leaves of Fall","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1666411-the-leaves-of-fall-act-2-fear-the-nobodies-part-26.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1667155-the-leaves-of-fall-act-3-something-that-matters-part-1.json"}}