my writing

Pilot Program - Falling Tower

fallingtower.jpg

T’s a Wednesday morning ‘ere, after the Lady Day, and I’m here to do justice. ‘Cause I ‘member it clearly the previous Sunday, ‘cause I, Walter of Ardene, an ma wife carried him to the St. Michael’s lane, ‘here we sat him down, stood all night with ‘im. These here folk need to know what Walter of Benington and his posse did. Y’all didn’t come ‘ere from three neighboring wards just for a walk. T’was them there at the alehouse of Gilbert of Morden where they’d come to drink four gallons of beer. They’d come with stones, knives, swords and other weapons, wanting to kidnap poor Emma. That girl already lost ‘er father Robert Pourte and Gilbert took her under his protection. But now these folk wanted to kidnap and rape ‘er? From what my wife Christina told me after, Mabel, his wife and Geoffrey, his brewer had asked them to leave. And they told ‘em that’d remain to spend they money however they like, welcome or unwelcome, t’s a public space.

Now, this is where the trouble started, from what I understand. Mabel then Emma upstairs, then Walter of Benington and his friends started getting frustrated and angry. They started creating commotion, assaulted people living in that there house and Robert and Geoffrey too. T’as a mess, you can only imagine what eighteen of them armed people can do to a place like that on a Sunday, where everyone just sitting in piece drinking after church. I mean on the Lord’s day to do that there? Shame. Shame, I tell you. Somehow they struck Robert on the head with stones in all that commotion. ‘ere’s where we came in, ‘cause Robert fled into High Streen raisin’ the hue, crying, screaming with Walter racing after ‘im with a knife and a stiletto in his hands, tryin’ to kill the poor bastard. Benedict de Warde and some other neighbors got ‘here first, tryin’ to calm ‘em down, but you already know that this ain’t the end. Cause Walter chased after Benedict tryin’ to kill ‘im too, the mad lad lost it at that point. So you know, Benedict was bare handed, he had to find something to defend himself with, so he took some ballstave thing from a stranger and he laid one onto Walter so hard that the bastard fell down to the ground at the entrance of the lane. Once Walter was down, it was quite easy to get the rest of them to calm down. So me and my wife carried Walter the next day after he laid by St. Michael’s lane to the house of Geoffrey’s house, where the died instantly. Now, here’s the thing, I don’t know how he died there, ‘cause I went out to wash my hands of blood. But, at least I can say that at least no one was raped, abducted or killed, I mean, besides Walter here. But the again he started it.

Benedict de Warde was later found guilty and to be arrested, yet he had fled, nowhere to be found.

Falling Tower is a short story series based on real life events that have been document and verified. So if you want to, you can verify the events that happened here. Falling Tower is the last short story for 2019 part of the Pilot Program. But, since this is part of the Pilot Program that means, that if you want more… Read it, re-read it, share it, like it, comment and print it and send me pictures with people reading it, then burn that piece of paper so you don’t commit copyright theft.

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Pilot Program- The Ob(li)vious

the oblivious.jpg

So, here I wasn’t again, faced with the toughest of the choices any person can make. Do I want chocolate chip ice cream? Or do I need chocolate chip ice cream? The obvious answer is yes to both those questions. Hey, can I not have a chocolate chip ice cream? What a sexy look he has on his face. No. Oh, I so didn’t expect this treatment. At least the ice cream tastes like trash. So what am I not doing next today? Bad question, you could say, or not, I don’t know you. I think I’m not going for something salty now, because definitely wasn’t too sweet and I’m not thirsty at all. Ugh, a crow, I’d hate to be one of those. Wait! NO! Fuck! Miss, can you please continue whatever it is you are doing here? Because I’d love to see you make an ass of yourself some more. Oh wow. Do you have to be so condescending all the time? Hah, that will show him. Well, you’re talking to me like I am the crow. What an ass. Go and don’t screw yourself, mister. At least I can fly and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Talk about not rude… Jeez. Now where shouldn’t I go next? Oh, I still don’t want something salty. Now how didn’t this work? I forgot… There once wasn’t a witch that didn’t curse this whole nation to not talk in not opposite actions. Otherwise the thing they didn’t talk in opposition would happen to them. But somehow it’s just the good things that always don’t happen to people, like this. But what I remember is how much this doesn’t last, a day, an hour, fifteen minutes? I just don’t know if it wouldn’t work if I weren’t to try the same, but not looking at a woman. Bless her heart for blessing us for thousands of years for no bad reason.

It doesn’t look like a rain is coming, and I don’t hate the fact that the rain isn’t coming and I have every clue to not undo this. Why aren’t I like this? Why is my brain not a mess? How not hard is it to not figure this out? I am doing this right… I don’t think. Don’t crows get wet? I know this, obviously. This rarely happens to me, so I’m not used to this. Ha. Very funny, this is very funny. Am I not going to live as a talking crow from now on? Or is this not the best idea for a blessing one can ever receive? All of these are bad questions, for a good girl like me. And I love them all so much. Nothing like not sitting on the apartment building you don’t live in, with your keys in your mouth, not waiting for this storm to not pass. And for me not to get back to normal. Someone please don’t shoot me. God bless this.

This is not the seventh entry in the Pilot Program. How does this not work? If you don’t love this short story, and don’t want it to become the story of 2020. Don’t read it, don’t comment, don’t like it, don’t share it.

Don’t consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Pilot Program - Coma,

coma.jpg

Time: 10:58:01

Man, I have this headache and my neck is so damn stiff. I don’t know why my body is shaking, maybe it’s the cold that comes with the May mornings. Oh, don’t worry about it, maybe you just slept in a weird position. It happens, you’ll get better once we start running. Let’s go. Ah, yeah, I think I zoned out and forgot why I’m even here. As I raise my head from the ground the shining light blinds me for a second, then the blue of the sky seemed to have opened up. A gust of wind hit us from behind as we started running, as we gained speed, as our hearts started pumping, and our bodies sweating, the wind changed direction, now hitting us with a nice cold breeze to cool us off as the sun was glistening on our skin.

Do you have any family? That’s weird. What do you mean? Why are you asking me this? Nevermind, maybe I misunderstood. What did you say? Ah, so I did misunderstand. Nothing, I just didn’t understand what you asked me. He is chuckling, weird. Do you have a girlfriend? Are my ears deceiving me? What did you just ask me? You know I do. He seems out of it. Sorry, I’m a mess. Oh, I was right. You okay? What happened? He looks perturbed by something. Yeah not really. I’m scared scared I’m losing you. What? Losing me? What are you talking about? He turned and smiled at me. You know… Life happens sometimes and you can’t control it and you just drift apart or life ends and you never get to… You know… What is he talking about? No, no I don’t know. You okay? He chuckles again. Heh, don’t worry about it, I’ll get better, some day. That’s just weird, coming from a guy like him.

Something is different. Man, I could run forever. He started laughing. No one is stopping you, you know? This is all you, man. Run as much as you want, this world belongs to you. Sweat is getting in my eyes, the wind stopped, the heat is suffocating a bit. What time is it? I can’t even read the time on my watch. It’s 10:58. Already? Good thing it’s the weekend. Let’s head back. He is smiling. Didn’t you just say you could run forever? I did, didn’t I? I know what I said, it’s just getting too hot and this heat makes me feel like I’m suffocating. He stops, turns around, puts a hand on my shoulder. Okay, fine. But let’s do this again, it’s one of the last fun things I’m doing lately, and I need it… I need you. Out of reflex I smiled. Sure, see you tomorrow then? His face seemed to have turned ashy. Yes. He ran. I stayed behind as he faded in the distance.

Time: 10:58:02

This is the sixth entry in the Pilot Program. So, remember, if you want to read more, if you want to read more, share it, like it, comment, re-read it and it might become the next 52 week story, the one for 2020.

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Pilot Program - The Spiteful Playwright

The Spiteful Playwright.jpg

Stories, we all have them. As humans, we’re all social creatures, no matter how much we don’t like to admit it. That’s why we sometimes act out, that’s why being rejected hurts us and why being lonely is depressing and frustrating. And stories, are the one thing that we all like. We all tell each other stories, whether we think them, tell them or write them, we always tell stories. Big, small, happy, tragic, stories are what bind us, helps us understand each other.”

The phone rang, it was her again, I picked up more out of a sense of shame for denying them once too many times. Hello? She didn’t wait for me to finish the greeting as she went on her tirade. Hey, you finally picked up, look… Here’s the deal, I’m with a theater troupe at a coffee right now. I know one of the actresses here and the guy that runs this whole deal. So, as the conversation progressed, I asked them what they were performing and doing in town and stuff like that, right? Yeah, so listen here, they told me that they want to try something new, something different, right? So guess who I thought about? Yeah, Mr. Author, it’s you. I thought about you and your books. I remember that you once told me that you’d want your books turned into a theater piece and that you’d want it as an audio book but you’d need a theater group. So guess what? I told them about your books, what you’d like to do and what you’re about and how you approach things and what your outlook on the world is and they’d want to talk to you about it. What do you say? Isn’t that amazing? You’ll have to treat me to something, of course I’ll bring my mon cher with me and you, your girl. She sometimes talks like a Shinkansen and you feel like that train hit you and shattered your brains to pieces. This is the motherly awesome Kris, she awesome, but erratic. Anyway, here’s the guy I was telling you about that runs this whole troupe, his name is Andrew by the way. Here… Hey, guy. I’m Andrew, I heard a lot about you from Kris. So you wrote a book? Usually when people ask me that, they either want to clarify things or they’re curious how I’ll respond. Hey, nice to meet you, I wrote like four that are in that style and could be easily turned into plays. I am really curious what he has in mind. Look, we can’t pay you much, but if you want we can give you like a 10% if you’re interested, just so we get this out of the way. And you can even direct it yourself, if you feel like it. That was really odd. So, you don’t want to read them or anything like that? He started laughing. Kris here convinced me, so if you want, we can meet tomorrow if you’re free and discuss the details and what you’d like and what we can offer. Well, they can’t pay me, cause of course they can’t, no one really gives a shit about this, unless you’re a big shot. Fuck it, why not. Yeah, tomorrow sounds great. See you at the statue downtown, next to the bell then. He responded with a sure and that ended the phone call. Well, that’s not how I imagined this would go today. But I’m going to have some fun with this.

This is the fifth of the short stories for the Pilot Program. How does it work? You read the short stories within the pilot program, you re-read them, share them, like them, comment if you like them, force your friends to read them and then maybe this will become the short story series for 2020.

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Attropolis XVIII

attropolis18.jpg

Olanus grew tired as the night went on, Alicaria was still hurting, yet they didn’t give up. At his wits end, he reached out to someone he knew had experience in the domain, a friend of his that was a little on the sociopathic side due to his intelligence, Homes. He entered limping a bit, not even waiting for them to ask what happened to him, he told them how he was trying an experiment, so he’d jumped from the roof of a house to see if it would really kill someone. With one look he had Alicaria all figured out, with one listen to the story they had told him, he already knew who the culprit was. He was never wrong, which is why no one doubted him and his skills.

From what you told me there were four men, right? But… here’s my question, why four? Why not more? That’s my question… I wonder, honestly. I mean, it’s clear that this isn’t the whole story, whoever did this… This isn’t their first time. And not the last that’s for sure. I know it, in fact. He stopped for a second, Olanus opened his mouth trying to speak, but… You know, I don’t know why you chose these four, but you might be a genius. Because I think, that the culprit is one of those four. Without any luck… Look, you’re a friend and you’ve helped me tons before, with stuff. He said looking at her, but with his arm on his shoulder.

Let me tell you why I think what I think and how I came to the conclusion I came to, okay? The first man, the oldest of them all, cute, serene but intelligent, which might be dangerous. Never underestimate the intelligence of a man or base yourself on the appearance of one. Trust me, I’m never wrong. Until now, let’s see… The second one is weird, I don’t like him for some reason, he creeps me out, even from this neighboring room. He is too clean for his own good, he might be hiding something behind all that, dangerous. The third one is innocent, no doubt about it. The fourth one is… The most dangerous of them all. She was shocked to hear that. But there is no doubt he has something to do with this.

Olanus frustrated, angry and tired screamed “ENOUGH” at Homes, telling him to get to the point. Flustered but not shaken, Homes continued. Okay, fine. Between the second guy and the fourth one, probably. The second one is hiding something, that’s for sure and you should look into him, because this might have been a mistake on his part. The fourth one is s simpleton with enough power to kill, especially a poor child, so he might have not meant it. If you want to know my take, it’s the fourth one. She jumped out and up of the chair saying that it can’t be true. Olanus intervened telling her to calm down and trust him, because he was never wrong. He continued telling her that they have to put forth an example in the memory of Julius, because he deserved justice. She started crying on the floor as she agreed to it.

Thus they entered the room with the four religious people were waiting. Angry Olanus with the sword pulled, knowing that the fourth one might actually put up a good fight, ran towards him sword up, hitting the neck of the fourth guy over and over and over again. As his thick neck and strong spinal cord weren’t giving in. Blood squirting everywhere as the guy was screaming and as Olanus was hitting his neck over and over and over again, until it slashed through his vertebrae taking his head clean off his neck. Ending the nightmare of the day they’ve been having.

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Attropolis XVII

attropolis17.jpg

Hippos with a baffled look on his face, in the arms of this giant with blue eyes, he almost forgot about the death of his parents. She didn’t even think to try and stop him or hold onto him, for once she was scared. He look at Hippos and asked what the deal with him was, someone told him about what just happened and why he was here, to which he smiled, look at him and said that he’s going to take the boy with him. She started panicking, so she pulled on the giant. With a stern look he looked down upon her, the little girl kept gesturing at him and at herself, but wasn’t able to speak properly. He didn’t know how to respond, so he turned to leave, and so she started crying and relieving herself. Seeing that, Hippos pushed him and jumped down from his arms, running to her, holding her in his arms and whispering something to her. Her crying stopped, he turned around and went back to the giant. She waved at him, he waved back at her and went on different paths.

The soldiers confused asked him why he took the kids, he with a laugh answered that he simply recognized something in the boy’s eyes, something he hasn’t seen in years, maybe reminding him of a younger version of someone he once knew. Hippos was listening carefully to what the men were talking, trying to pick up on clues and gain any advantage, but with no luck, he was under the care of a giant that always smiled when looking at Hippos. This scared him, it was unsettling, seeing someone with such a scar on his face smiling towards a child like he was. Nothing about him seemed gentle, the hands of the giant had calluses, blisters on his feet, mud everywhere on him, a bloody sword and a deep voice that could shatter the earth and his ears.

They each went their way, Hippos was now on the way to his new home, it was quieter now that it was just the two of them. He still didn’t understand why this giant would care for him or take him, now having doubts about what was next for him and his future. Parent-less, lover-less on his way to the unknown with a someone that looked like he fell out of the side of a mountain. This was the first night Hippos spent awake, the adrenaline started to wear off, he was getting sleepy. The man took Hippos in his arms, as the sun was coloring the skies orange, yellow and all shades of blue and purple, they arrived at his house. A modest little house at the edge of the city, on a bit of a hill from which you could see the roof of every house in Creetus and at the end, the sea. What a long day comes to an end with both of them falling asleep the moment they enter the house and sit on the bed. All muddy, dirty and still wet from the thunderstorm…

And in Rome

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Attropolis XVI

Attropolis16.jpg

CAUTION: ATTROPOLIS CONTAINS STRONG LANGUAGE, SEXUAL CONTENT, DISTURBING IMAGES AND IMMORAL GROTESQUE BEHAVIOR. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Man 3: The third man finally stood up on his one good foot… Teeth and gums rotten just like his other leg. He smelled like the intestines of a cow, he looked worse than a half eaten cat. Yet, he too, was soft spoken. A man of few words, Olanus was already tired of having to deal with these religious men, yet he was calm, the devotion he had for justice was almost incomparable in the empire. So, he continued interrogating the man. Barely moving his right eye, he looked at him and answered his questions as well as he could, being deaf in one ear at his age was impeding him.

The door opened, Alicaria entered the room, to his surprise, went close to the four men, took a good look at them, then made her way towards a chair next to him. As she sat, Olanus moved onto the fourth man.

Man 4: A younger rounder man, black between the toes of his feet. A few black highlights spread over his head, thinking he might trick people into thinking that he has hair. He was fidgety, swearing like it was raining indoors, yet his speech was dragging and slow. Spitting left and right as he was trying to put thought to word through his fat cheeks and fatter lips. As the interrogation went on, the more and more Olanus had the urge to strangle him and rip his throat through his asshole. Having her there helped him get through it all…

He had the men held up in that room, as they went outside to discuss the situation and debrief her into the information he gathered from them. Yet there was no news about the fifth men, which only fueled his anger and frustration. Thus he started relying the information, saying: The first man seems a bit too old and scrawny in my opinion. Then there’s the fact that he said he taking care of his animals all day, feeding them, stalking up and getting ready for the congregation. Helping those that can’t feed themselves… He looked at her and asked if she knew him. She shook her head, signaling no. Thinking that he may not tell her about him, he moved on: The second one was odd, he looks like he is impervious to everything and anything. A bit too holy, a bit too suspicious. He said he went through there, but not your place specifically, as he had some errands to run and had talked to some folk on the streets. He again looked at her and asked if she knew him… She surprised like being woken from a dream, nods and tells him about seeing him two or thrice a day around, in the rare days she spends her time at home morning to evening.

The third man is disgusting, and looks like someone that could harm people. Said Olanus scratching his head, as he was walking frustrated around the room. She responded by saying that he rarely saw the man around, but he did see him. She also heard about his story, The man behind the legends, supposedly he was known to have fought the boar infestation twenty years prior, thus leading to the poor state he was in now. Olanus was shocked, as he too heard those stories about that man when he was but a boy.

Then there’s this forth man… Olanus said frustrated, exclaiming He is too stupid to have done anything. She couldn’t help herself but laugh at him and his outburst. I know him, she said. We’re roughly the same age, grew up together, he was always this way. He comes by once in a while to chat and to talk to me. Nothing more, he’s like a little brother. They were nowhere closer to solving the mystery of what happened to poor Juliusegos de la Capital… And so, his tragedy lives on…

In Creetus….

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Pilot Program - I Write Sins Not Tragedies

iwrite.jpg

Dreams, the type of stuff that keeps you up all night. The thing that keeps your mind active even when you want to rest, cause your head feels like it’s about to explode due to it being overworked. What a fantastic way to get traumatized sometimes, you simply dream of the unexplainable and the unreasonable when you can’t move your body willingly, unless you wake up, of course. Like that one time…

Inside a big living room, everything seems shrouded in darkness except the life that the flickering fire was providing in the fireplace. The walls were red with gold wavy linings, it all looked expensive and exquisite. The brown hardwood floor had a shining polish, a big fluffy rug on the floor, upon it a small coffee table. Everything so clean, no speck of dust seemed to live anywhere around that room. Long burgundy drapes, flowing from along side the giant windows, it was a clear skies night outside. The big dark brown door opened. With fluffy black socks, skinny legs, in black panties with a white t-shirt on, she entered the room. Black straight hair a bit under her shoulder blades, long natural red nails, some black eyeliner, monolid eye shape and some gorgeous brown eyes, she smiled as she entered the room. I was on a brown leather couch, unable to get up. She seemed entertained by it all, giggling and looking like she just won the biggest jackpot. She signals me to get closer with a gesture of her hand and one finger. I feel pulled out from the couch by a mysterious force which I can’t control. I fly into her arms, she stars laughing as she grabs me in her arms and says: “Oh, I am so lucky to have you here, with me." I’m confused, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know her, I don’t know how I got there or how she is doing any of this. But here I am…

What can I do? What could I have done? As confused as I am, as good it feels to be held by her, a warm embrace filled with love. At peace, I give in, I hug her back. Yet something still doesn’t feel right, or at least that’s what I was thinking. A small push from her, I fly back onto the couch, on my back, I can’t move again. Slowly moving towards me, a big smile on her face she playfully winks at me. I start to get nervous, excited, I felt like I was shaking, though I couldn’t move. Once she got to me, she started touching my chest. I was wearing a white shirt, no tie and some black suit pants. She started kissing me passionately, I couldn’t stop her, nor did I want to at that point, somehow her spell wore off enough to the point where I could move my arms again…

So… Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

This is the forth of the Pilot Program short stories.n If you want to read more, like it, share it, read and re-read it and comment. And that way you’ll decide which of the short stories in the Pilot Program gets a 52 week run in 2020.

Attropolis XIII

ATTROPOLIS13.jpg

Caution: Attropolis contains strong language, sexual content, disturbing images and immoral grotesque behavior. You have been warned.

Embraced together, the two stood still in the darkness of the night as he was crying, she became his rock, the one that grounded him and drained him of pain, sorrow or irrationality. In a sense she was more powerful then he could ever be, since he couldn’t control himself, the way she could and the way she dealt with problems and tragedies. The rain had stopped and both Greek soldiers and Roman legionnaires started patrolling the streets, helping those in need and trying to find survivors in the badly afflicted places. People were crying, screaming, some trapped under rubble either partially or completely. As the soldiers were roaming the city, healthy and capable citizens banded together too in order to help those befallen to this terrible disaster. As rain water was flowing down the muddy streets of Creetus, so was the blood of those that had their bodies crushed under the heavy stones and logs of wood. A few of them heard a scream, started taking the rubble and digging down towards the scream. Boulder after boulder the scream was getting fainter and fainter, when they finally got to him, they discovered a young man not older than twenty, burn to a crisp from the waist down, legs were ash all except bone, guts somehow still inside him intact, a miracle that he had survived for as long as he did or that he didn’t get crushed by anything above his waist. The poor young man, smile when he saw his neighbors then blissfully passed away. After taking him out of the rubble and leaving him on the street, they decided to investigate the next house, where they found Hippos and her hugging, with his parents tender burnt bodies on the floor next to them. One man came in a hurry to inform the people that there was a riot inciting in the middle of the town and that they should hurry there… The children were once again left on their own. The fight in the town center started after the governor was found dead and the Roman legionnaires suspected towns people taking advantage of the mess and had him assassinated. Yet there was no proof for any of that, so now the tensions were rising, blood was pumping, everyone was on edge. Suddenly a tall figure rose from the crowd, his presence had silenced everyone, the crowd fell to a hush, before they started killing each other like mad men for no reason. It didn’t take much for the Roman legionnaires to dampen the killing mood of the people of Creetus. Yet the Greek soldiers weren’t pleased with that, so they slaughtered the legionnaires and got independence back for Creetus, even if they had to pretend that their soldiers are part of the Roman Empire and had a governor. They were at least lead by one of their own. A man with a scar across his face that looked like a slingshot, tall like a mountain, blue eyes like they were frozen ice glistening. The towns people gathered all the afflicted children and he went to tend to them, suddenly he stops in his tracks as he sees one child that is familiar to him, slowly goes closer and closer to him and then picks up Hippos…

And then in Rome…

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO

Attropolis XII

attropolis12.jpg

Caution: Attropolis contains strong language, sexual content, disturbing images and immoral grotesque behavior. You have been warned.

Shocked, distressed and embarrassed, they both were as he entered the chambers with the terrible news of her son dying. In the heat of the moment he pulled away and tore his throbbing cock out of her. She screamed as his dick simply tore out of her withering flower, blood started dripping down to her shit hole, she barely stood up, as it still hurt, and blood was now dripping onto the floor and down her legs. She started crying both from the pain of having a cock pulled out like spear from a fresh wound and the loss of her only son. Olanus tells the soldier to get a carriage as fast as possible whilst wiping the blood off the propagator’s tip. He was fuming with fury in his eyes. Alicaria on the ground crying in a puddle of blood, slowly and gently he picked her up in his arms, carrying her down the stairs. People were looking, murmuring and already starting rumors about what had happened in those chambers. Some saying that she had a miscarriage, knowing full well that Olanus as big as he was, would never harm a woman. Yet they were looking at her like she was a witch that had charmed him and now was just pretending for his pity. As they got to the carriage, he placed her down gently, and sat next to her. She couldn’t stop crying, with a soft voice he told the chauffeur her address and to hurry. He instantly whipped the horses and they started galloping through the streets of Rome. The barely paved streets even in Rome were horrible, as the horses were galloping, the carriage was bumping and jumping from hole to hole, shaking up and down, side to side. Olanus did try to keep Alicaria as safe as possible and to hold her so she wouldn’t suffer more than she was already suffering. Yet it was all too little too late. With every hole and bumps she would jump and come down with a force that would slam her vagina to the seat of the carriage. Every time that would happen she would let out a scream, and blood gushed out of her, making her sore, but this time not in a pleasant way. It wasn’t a pleasant ride for him either, as he would hit is head on the top of the carriage and would usually either crack the skin on his head or break the roof. It took them twenty minutes to get to her home, she could barely walk right now and he was dizzy from all the head banging from the ride. They took a few minutes to recover, then he got out of the carriage and smacked the chauffeur over the head a few times for being careless and as retribution for his head injuries. He helped her down, took her in his arms, and they both slowly entered the house. It was a putrid smell, there was already a darkness in and around the house. They both slowly took some steps towards the bed, where they finally saw his body. The foam from his mouth had already dried up, so was the blood and cum. Enraged he told the chauffeur to go fetch the soldier that had found the child in this poor state, and get him the few men that were supposed to patrol this region. Alicaria, was on her knees, sobbing, screaming that this fate should have been hers, not her child’s. The pain only grew in both of them, so was the sorrow and frustration to the fact that there’s nothing much to do right now, but mourn his death and avenge him.

And in Greece…

Consider donating: https://www.paypal.me/RaulFO