{"id":41,"date":"2023-06-07T02:11:00","date_gmt":"2023-06-07T02:11:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/?p=41"},"modified":"2024-02-20T21:24:39","modified_gmt":"2024-02-20T21:24:39","slug":"where-is-daniel-desoto-by-andrew-kozma","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/where-is-daniel-desoto-by-andrew-kozma\/","title":{"rendered":"Where is Daniel DeSoto? by Andrew Kozma"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

So there I was, throwing rocks at Daniel\u2019s window. Not pebbles. Rocks. The kind that star the glass with cracks if you don\u2019t get the fuck up and answer the window, Daniel. I picked up a rock with some heft, and knew I\u2019d have to throw it at the siding of the townhome or it\u2019d sail right through the glass and splash Daniel\u2019s room with brilliant shards. Daniel would understand\u2014he\u2019s my boyfriend, after all\u2014but his parents would scream and call the police. I just escaped juvie, so I can\u2019t chance it, even if the sound of broken glass is music to my ears. Some real John Cage shit, as my older sister would say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My sister is older<\/em>. By a decade. I was barely in grade school before she was out of our wonderful educational system entirely, going to college and dropping out before I\u2019d even had my first period. My mom was pissed. She\u2019d turned Offie\u2019s bedroom into her \u201ccreative refuge,\u201d filling it with craft tables for her scrapbooking, macrame shit, bottlecap windchimes, and whatever the fuck else caught her fancy. Then she had shove all her precious art into the attic where the mice and squirrels would gnaw it to pieces, all so my sister could move back in and find <\/em>herself. Well, I found her<\/em>. She\u2019s right in my fucking house, always whining and moping. Sometimes I think I ended up dating Daniel just so I\u2019d have somewhere to go instead of sitting at home, listening to my sister complain that her \u201ctragic\u201d life is all Mom\u2019s fault for naming her Ophelia to begin with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At least if she went and drowned herself in the bayou there\u2019d be some beauty to her tragedy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t mean that, Sarah,\u201d Daniel would say, trying to make me into the nice, caring girl he thinks is hiding inside me, as if I\u2019m a butterfly trapped in its cocoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I throw the rock\u2014it hits the siding with a satisfactory thud, adding one more dent to those I\u2019ve made over the past few months. But Daniel still doesn\u2019t rip his curtain back to mouth \u201cStop it,\u201d so I scour the ground for another rock. Right when I find one with edges sharp enough to embed the rock in the siding for good, a voice hisses at me from above.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s not here,\u201d his little sister says, her narrow face scrunched like she\u2019s sucking on sour candy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you doing in his room?\u201d I ask. Daniel hates anyone being in his room if he\u2019s not there. Even me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe left to break you out of juvie.\u201d She pulls the window all the way open and straddles the sill like it\u2019s a pony. \u201cDid it work?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. I broke myself out. Where is he?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instead of answering, Allie slides off the sill and lets herself down the outside wall until she\u2019s hanging from her fingertips, then drops. It\u2019s then I notice she\u2019s fully dressed and I\u2019ve never really paid attention to her the entire time I\u2019ve known her. Although she\u2019s only a year younger than me, she\u2019s just been in the background, wearing boring clothes\u2014high school camouflage\u2014and never speaking up unless she\u2019s forced to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now she\u2019s wearing ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt, chunky black boots like knockoff Docs, and has a leather shoulder bag she\u2019s opening up to pull out a blood-red leather book I thought I\u2019d seen the last of. The Desmocraton Codex.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you doing with that?\u201d I hiss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat are you angry about?\u201d Allie says, her narrow face pointing towards me like a blade. \u201cIf anything, I should be the one who\u2019s angry!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And she is angry. She keeps her voice down, because she\u2019s not an idiot, which I respect, but she is really fucking pissed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis<\/em>.\u201d She hits the book hard with the flat of her hand. \u201cIs what my brother wouldn\u2019t stop looking at ever since you\u2019d been put away for your own good. He shut it whenever I walked in on him, but told me he\u2019d found a way to help you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I can\u2019t help frowning. \u201cI don\u2019t need anyone\u2019s help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what I told him!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A light flicks on in another room of the house. I can\u2019t afford to get caught, especially not by Daniel\u2019s parents. I\u2019ve run away from juvie before, and if I\u2019m caught they\u2019re going to throw me in for another six months. I\u2019ll miss the entire<\/em> school year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pull Allie away by the hand, taking The Desmocraton Codex at the same time. I don\u2019t want to hold it. The cover feels like sweat-cooled skin. But it\u2019s not her responsibility, or her fault.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t Daniel\u2019s, either, so I don\u2019t know how it got in his hands. I\u2019d covered the book in gasoline, set it on fire, and thrown its ashy remains in Buffalo Bayou; it definitely shouldn\u2019t be in my hands right now, its cover slightly greasy to the touch just as it was before I\u2019d destroyed the fucking thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we stop to huddle under some trees, the book\u2019s cover darkens in the dim light. It looks like an old scab.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere is he? Where is<\/em> he?\u201d I don\u2019t realize I\u2019m shaking her until she breaks free of my grasp, stronger than she looks. \u201cWe need to find him, fast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? You didn\u2019t answer any of Daniel\u2019s letters, and not a single phone call! And you expect me to believe you actually care now?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhere is Daniel?\u201d I step back. \u201cI\u2019m not asking again.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes light up with bitterness and disdain. \u201cYour money\u2019s still in his room, you know. He didn\u2019t touch a bit of it. It\u2019s under his bed, in a box labeled Birthday Shit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy are you telling me this?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo you don\u2019t have to keep pretending you care.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She glances meaningfully at Daniel\u2019s open window and then walks off, snatching the book from my hands as she passes. The side of their house is old brick, and easy enough to climb if you know how. I\u2019ll never admit it to anyone\u2014except maybe Daniel\u2014but the reason I came back was<\/em> to get that money. I need to leave town. I was going to try to convince Daniel to come with me, but if he didn\u2019t\u2014his loss.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All I need to do is climb that wall and get the money and then I\u2019m gone, home free. Free of home. And I think about it. I really do. It would be so easy. I could be on a bus to Austin or LA or Chicago in just a few hours and say goodbye to Houston forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I wouldn\u2019t be able to live with myself. I couldn\u2019t write Daniel or answer his letters, because it hurt too much. The expression on his face as they took me out of the courtroom was so terrible, how he was trying to be comforting and positive and smiling because he didn\u2019t want me to be upset, but his eyes were empty, as if I was the abyss he was looking into. He was more devastated than I was, and somehow that\u2019s what I couldn\u2019t handle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I catch up to Allie, she looks at me with shock, her mouth a tight bow of distrust. We\u2019re in public now, away from the protected yards of those who want to pretend they suburb when, in fact, they urb, and an occasional car passes down Montrose side streets. I ask her once more where we\u2019re going, where Daniel is, but she doesn\u2019t respond. Fine, I won\u2019t ask again, even though the need to know burns in me. I don\u2019t like not being in control.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Offie took over being a second parent after Dad left and Mom decided she was done with everything about family life aside from the basics of keeping us clothed and fed. Even while she guided me through school, making sure I did my homework and advising me on how to handle those girls who\u2019d decided I was the ugly duckling, I could tell she didn\u2019t want the responsibility. I hated not having power over my life, which made me angry at her for having that power and not wanting it. If I learned anything from all the counseling I was forced to go to over the years, it\u2019s that part of the joy I got from making trouble was making Offie\u2019s life hell. And I could be in control of being punished, owning all that I brought upon myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But right now, I\u2019m not in control. And based on Daniel having the book, he\u2019s not, either. He doesn\u2019t know what he\u2019s dealing with.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFuck your savior complex,\u201d I mutter under my breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTalk about my brother like that again, and I\u2019ll punch you in the mouth.\u201d Allie says it casually, and I don\u2019t doubt she will. I\u2019m not afraid of her, but still, I respect it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLet me have the book.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hugs the Codex to her chest, already possessive of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot until you tell me what\u2019s going on. What\u2019s Daniel\u2019s savior complex got him into this time?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can\u2019t tell you what\u2019s going on until I have the book.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen I guess I\u2019ll live in ignorance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Again, she walks off as if she doesn\u2019t care if I\u2019m following. I know she does<\/em> care\u2014she thinks I have some special knowledge that\u2019ll help Daniel, but I\u2019m also positive she\u2019ll go on by herself into whatever danger there is regardless. She\u2019s stubborn in the exact way Daniel is not. He let me do whatever I want, convinced he could persuade me to curb my worst impulses when I was already in the midst of them. He\u2019s an idealist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Allie is pragmatic. It\u2019s obvious she didn\u2019t know Daniel was gone until she\u2019d heard the rocks I was throwing. Her bag jangles like she\u2019d shoveled every possible thing she might need inside it, from lip balm to a flashlight to the kitchen knife she keeps in her room for late night cheese snacks no one else needs to know about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s late. Only a few cars haunt Westheimer. A racer zooms by, engine roar a dragon in the night. In the silence after, there\u2019s a freight train whistle miles away, though it sounds so clear it could be coming from the next block over. Electronic music bleeds through the upstairs window of a fourplex as a night heron stalks the gutter for frogs. When I was a kid, I collected those frogs in a jar in order to feed the next night heron I saw and forgot about it, as kids do, and all those frogs died for no reason, except to freak my mom out the next time she searched through the garage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m not a good person. Daniel is. Allie might be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe book is used for summoning\u2026things.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tell her this as we cross West Alabama Street. I know we\u2019re headed towards Menil Park, that giant expanse of ground which used to be an apartment complex where, for several generations, people lived, fucked, suffered, and died. It\u2019s better than a graveyard for summoning\u2014at least that\u2019s what I told Daniel once when I was sad and drunk off scotch I\u2019d stolen from my mom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSummoning demons?\u201d Allie asks, as if we\u2019re talking about a new place to buy clothes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo. Sure. I guess.\u201d I look away from Allie\u2019s curious gaze. \u201cI don\u2019t know what to call them, but they\u2019re dangerous.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd Daniel\u2026?\u201d She lets the words trail off, fear and disbelief in her voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI might\u2019ve told him that the book can fulfill your wildest dreams.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pause. My heart thuds into my throat. \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The tall oaks of Menil Park rise up over the houses surrounding it, their shadows blacking out the ground. Menil Museum security patrols the place at night, but they mostly just sit in their cars and watch shows on their phones. It\u2019s a quiet neighborhood.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then we hear the screaming. It\u2019s like the sound of one animal dying in the jaws of another, or metal girders bending under the stress of hurricane winds. I\u2019m running before I even know what I\u2019m running toward. The park is bordered by Richmond Avenue, a tall wooden privacy fence, and museum buildings, all dark. Across Richmond is a dead strip mall, most of its storefronts abandoned shells. There\u2019s no one else to help us if we need it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Under a clump of trees near the fence, I see the faint glow of a dying fire. A number of figures dance through the glow, their movements stuttering like video on shitty wifi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDaniel!\u201d Allie screams. She\u2019s faster than me, sprinting off through the park until she\u2019s just another of the shadows against that glow. And she still has the Desmocraton Codex.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It isn\u2019t a book I found in a library. It\u2019s not a book I heard about online. It\u2019s a book that was born, as far as I can tell, from my mind. My hopes. My desires. It\u2019s why Offie hates me and I can\u2019t stand her, even if she<\/em> doesn\u2019t know why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With Dad gone and Offie at school, I spent my nights praying for a different life. It wasn\u2019t really prayer. I don\u2019t believe in God, or gods, or a higher power, but I was convinced, out of desperation, that something out there could change my life, because if it couldn\u2019t, and didn\u2019t, then I\u2019d die. For two weeks straight, I reached out to whatever might hear me and pried apart my innermost thoughts seeing if there was something inside me I could release. A needful hunger burned in every single cell of my body. Sometimes, on the edge of sleep, I closed my eyes and felt myself inside myself, a smaller body in my body, and a smaller body inside of that, down and down until I finally reached a tiny me buried in those hundred other mes, my skin rough and dead and needing to be shed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One morning I woke up and the book was on my bedside table. I didn\u2019t have to touch it to feel the depth of its promise, that if I opened its covers and just read a few words, my life would be livable again. Whatever I wanted would be mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wanted my parents to be who they were when I was young. Or if not my parents, because my dad was often a shit and my mom didn\u2019t really care about anyone but herself, then someone who cared about me. I opened the book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Within a few days, Offie had returned to Houston to live in her old room, having found college overwhelming, depression all-consuming, and the resulting loneliness unbearable. And she cared about me, but she cared too much. She wanted to live her life over again through mine, and I couldn\u2019t stand how she\u2019d martyr herself at her job waiting tables or take Mom\u2019s cutting sarcasm about her being a failure because she knew it would free me from being a target.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her return seemed natural. I thought it hadn\u2019t really been my wishing that brought Offie home but her own failure, as my mom never stopped pointing out. So laying in bed a few weeks later, I succumbed to my own self-hatred. I opened the book, fulfilled a small ritual from its pages, and wished I had the same number of friends as everyone else at school. An electric burn traveled from the book up my arm to the center of my chest and settled there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next day a sickness spread through school, a fifth of the student population coming down with a never-before-seen variation of mono. The once overcrowded buildings became a ghost town.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The book had power.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I used it. To get revenge on the girl who reported my smoking to the principal. For stupid stuff, like money for a new tattoo. And for the pettiest purposes, like silencing the all-night music from the restaurant next door that kept me awake at night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every single thing I wished for came true but made the world worse than before. With each wish and ritual, the book grew thicker with more densely-written pages and disturbing illustrations that seemed to twist on the page, until I opened it one day to read words in faded ink that addressed me directly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

dream me more<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That\u2019s when I burned the Codex and threw its remains into the bayou. I watched it float on the scummy, trash-spotted water. I stayed there until it sunk under, all at once, as if nabbed by an alligator.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From then on, my life was my own again. Every prank I pulled, every adult I disobeyed, every small thing I stole from the corner store was mine and mine alone. Whatever consequences I suffered I would\u2019ve earned. Every burst of pride I felt at having not been caught, that was mine, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Daniel never wanted to own up to anything. That was his whole reason for not getting in trouble in the first place, even if he never admitted it to himself. The book would eat him up in one swift bite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSarah!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Daniel calls my name, but I can tell by the tone that he\u2019s not yelling at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I reach the edge of the trees I find one of the illustrations from the book made real. A line of burnt grass forming a perfect summoning circle. A few smaller protective circles grow like warts along the edge, each large enough for just one person to stand in. A cluster of candles burns in the center of each circle\u2014tea lights that barely give off any light and burn for no time at all, but are cheap enough that a high school student could afford hundreds of them. Three dead grackles lay inside the large circle, equidistant from each other to form the points of a triangle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Daniel stands in one of the protective circles, Allie a few feet away from him as though she\u2019s afraid to touch him. They both stare at a third person on the other side of the circle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another me, trapped for now in one of the protective circles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Allie turns back to look at me\u2014the real me\u2014then to the other me. I take a step toward her and she yells, \u201cStay away from us!\u201d and rushes to Daniel. She gives him the Codex. All of the light in the small copse of trees bends towards the book like steam caught in the flow of someone\u2019s breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Daniel, oh Daniel.<\/em> I haven\u2019t seen him in weeks, and I thought maybe I\u2019d idealized his looks in my imagination, but the reality is so much sharper. He\u2019s wearing that old gray hoodie that\u2019s full of holes and the tan jeans he has to wash every time he wears them because they attract dirt like a lint roller. There\u2019s a crookedness to his nose, a constellation of tiny moles on his right cheek, and his right shoulder hunches up just a tiny bit higher than the left. All of this I\u2019d forgotten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the light draws towards the Codex, it burns away those imperfections, smooths out his skin, straightens his posture, makes him the most perfect version of himself. The me that faces him across the summoning circle is the most perfect version of me, too, as if airbrushed by social media filters, tightening this, exaggerating that, my eyes too large and too dark, a smile inviting you to everything you ever wanted to do but didn\u2019t dare. Inviting Daniel. He can\u2019t look away. Even Allie screaming right next to him doesn\u2019t break his focus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDaniel!\u201d I yell, my voice breaking whatever hold the other me has on him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She turns her attention to me. I expect her expression to shift to anger or hatred, but I see only hunger reflected in my too-perfect eyes. She takes a step towards me but jerks to a halt. She can\u2019t cross the protective circle\u2019s border. Whatever is happening, I\u2019m not a part of it yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I clearly shouldn\u2019t be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Desmocraton Codex was born from me. Or I brought it into this world from somewhere else. Everything in it, everything that it does, is tied to me. Standing this close to the circles in the grass, to the book, to Daniel, to the other me, I can feel the lines connecting all of them. I\u2019m not part<\/em> of those lines, but I could be if I tried. I don\u2019t know what that would mean. Just like coming here to help Daniel instead of grabbing the money from his room and leaving, there\u2019s no going back if I make myself part of the pattern.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could still go. Even without that money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Daniel is looking at me now, really looking at me, in a way that he\u2019s never looked at me before. Is the Daniel I\u2019m seeing now the Daniel I\u2019ve always known, or has the book already shifted him into someone new? Or am I the one who\u2019s different? Our eyes lock and a jolt passes from him into me, my chest tight, my throat dry, every muscle tense like I\u2019m on the edge of a cliff. I want to bury my face in his chest and let the musty smell of his hoodie block out everything else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His eyes slide away toward the other me. And why not? She\u2019s perfect, even if she\u2019s not me. Daniel holds the Codex in front of him and slowly raises it towards the sky. The pattern he\u2019s drawn on the ground feels like it\u2019s been sewn to my nerves, and it\u2019s tightening, as if one final tug will bring it to completion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Allie tries to reach Daniel, but the circle keeps her out. Her eyes dance between me and that other me, hate and fear turning her gaze to broken glass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGet him away from here,\u201d I yell at her, then step over the circle of burned grass.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Instantly, the other me runs over the broken circle and barrels into me before I can brace myself. I don\u2019t feel<\/em> anything, like she\u2019s a ghost, but I find myself on my back anyway. The book is in my outstretched hand, the leather cover ragged like skin scraped raw. My cheek rests on the trampled, burnt grass, the ashy smell filling my nose. Allie drags Daniel toward home, both of them already turned away from me and the remains of what Daniel tried to do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Red-and-white lights flash at the edge of my vision as I lie there. I\u2019ve saved Daniel. Menil security will find me. I\u2019ll go back to juvie. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ll ever see Daniel or Allie again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t know what Daniel was trying to do, but I feel her<\/em> inside of me. That other me. My body is a dress yet to be fitted and my tongue explores someone else\u2019s mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDream me more,\u201d my voice says.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My left hand reaches up and closes my eyes.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

So there I was, throwing rocks at Daniel\u2019s window. Not pebbles. Rocks. The kind that star the glass with cracks if you don\u2019t get the fuck up and answer the window, Daniel. I picked up a rock with some heft, and knew I\u2019d have to throw it at the siding of the townhome or it\u2019d […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":30,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_eb_attr":"","_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","ph_site_tiers_settings":[[{"Price":"1.00","Tier_name":"Steadfast Supporter","Tier_id":"prod_PaAF3yLFLYGcEN","Selected":true,"Tier_status":"publish"},{"Price":"2.00","Tier_name":"Devoted Disciple","Tier_id":"prod_PaAHc7tOOYhGVR","Selected":true,"Tier_status":"publish"},{"Price":"3.00","Tier_name":"Arcane Advisor","Tier_id":"prod_PaAJ2JwZ9uMwgJ","Selected":true,"Tier_status":"publish"}]],"_ph_post_tiers":["prod_PaAF3yLFLYGcEN","prod_PaAHc7tOOYhGVR","prod_PaAJ2JwZ9uMwgJ"],"activitypub_content_warning":"","activitypub_content_visibility":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[11,12],"class_list":["post-41","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-horror","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/30"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=41"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":425,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions\/425"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=41"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=41"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/on.patronhunt.com\/thedreadmachine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=41"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}