Happy New Story Orgy Monday Year #storyorgy #blogstory

Another year gone and even though I didn’t officially do any New Year Resolutions – I sure would like to try and post every Monday at least something, even if it isn’t a continuing story.

This here is the beginning of what will probably be a very long continuing story—let’s hope it works out that way…lol

**WARNING—this story is out of my comfort zone, but I think that will make it quite interesting…hope it draws you in. :)

Prompt: This is not about…

Parallels

Part 1

copyright © 2016 Havan Fellows

“Oh, there he is, Brother. He looks so good since they shaved his head.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his legs dangled over the edge of the high-rise building Sister and he were perched on. They weren’t on the building itself, but on a network of steel and piping that reached another twenty or so feet above the roof of the thirty-five-floor SunTrust Center, running along one of the four corner towers. It was the perfect spot to watch them escort the inmate into the courthouse.

True, the courthouse was just over half a mile away, and there were closer buildings to sight see from, but Sister always preferred the highest spots to swing her legs.

And Sister always got what Sister wanted.

He hadn’t needed to lean forward to see the man Sister pointed out, but the movement made a statement for her that his words wouldn’t have conveyed properly. Or more likely, words for her to ignore.

Looking at the newly bald man with the broad hunched shoulders and perhaps an extra twenty pounds on his six and a half foot frame, he didn’t understand Sister’s obsession with the goliath. Surely they’d toyed with more interesting people in their millennia of play. Why this man?

“You do realize he’ll be dead within the next month, correct?” Brother sat up again.

She sighed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the sigh was one of sadness. How strange.

“This appearance is simply for the public’s benefit. Even his lawyer is aware of the futility of it. Though woe for him not to follow through, and bill the hours accordingly,” he added, perhaps to appease Sister’s melancholy state.

“His death will be a blemish on an already dismayed state of humanity.”

She stopped swinging her bare legs and Brother knew this conversation, this observance, wouldn’t be like the others. Sister didn’t intend to simply witness… Even after the warning they received last century, Sister intended on participation in this one’s life.

Though he would follow Sister back into the retched chambers of purgatory without regret, he wouldn’t do it without understanding.

“Roane Matthew Roland killed twenty-two men and fifteen women. He mutilated their bodies, most beyond recognition and distributed the remains up and down the east coast. Shall I speak of the details?” He watched as the numerous guards pushed his shackled body through the special entrance and out of their immediate sight. “Do we intend on following?” he asked, wondering about how far Sister’s infatuation would go.

She hopped down off the pipes and floated to the edge of the building, landing on her toes. Spinning around to smile up at him she shook her head. To which question he asked he didn’t know, probably an answer for both.

“What’s happening in that building isn’t nearly as interesting as what happened to Roane the past thirty-seven years of his life.”

“Sister, he’s a bad man even by the worst men’s definitions in this heinous world. When will you give up hope?”

She pouted for a split second before grinning again. Strolling along the ledge, she raised her arm away from her body and waited. “This is not about the Roane Matthew Roland that has done unspeakable acts of vengeance to thirty-seven innocent lives—that man deserves his fate and I shed no moisture for him.” A forest owlet flew from out of nowhere and landed on her welcoming arm, its impressive talons puncturing her delicate olive skin. “This is about the Roane Matthew Roland whose life was stolen from him before his first breath of oxygen filled his lungs. Does that Roane not deserve the same respects that others are worthy of?”

Brother sighed this time, joining Sister on the edge of the building and petting the owlet. “The same respects he took away from his victims? Vengeance is not vengeance when wielded upon innocent lives.”

“By saving Roane, would we not save those same innocent lives you covet?” she countered.

The owl looked at Sister before spinning its head around and gazing at him, snapping its beak and clicking its tongue in opinion.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you side with her. Sister is quite persuasive, isn’t she?”

Cocking his head to the side, the owl squawked one final—loud—time then flew away, to disappear from whence he came.

The gaping holes the talons put in Sister’s arm quickly closed, no blemishes left as proof of their visitor.

“You realize we will be severely punished for this.” It wasn’t a question, he didn’t state it as one.

“Anything worth doing is punishable in one form or another. I want to determine if my theory is correct or not. Isn’t it an age old question?”

He tucked her raven hair behind her ear and inquired, “What question would that be?”

Sister wrinkled her nose and shook the strands loose again. “Is a person born a monster, or does humanity create them.”

He grinned. Of course this whole discussion would narrow down to one thing, Sister’s curiosity into the human psyche. “And how do we go about with this experiment of yours?”

“It is best to start at the beginning.” She took his hand.

“So a quick trip to January 4, 1980 it is.” He lifted his foot and dangled it over the side, but a firm grip on his hand halted the final movement of his step.

“That’s the day he was birthed into his never-ending nightmare, but not the beginning of his story. Shall we go back a few more months?”

He indulged her with a smile and nod before they both stepped off the ledge together.

To be cont’d…

Here are the blogs of my fellow orgiasts…see if they’ve got goodies for you. ;)

Hank Edwards’s blog

Lee Brazil’s blog

Em Woods’s blog