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"Barbara," I say to her, and wait expectantly for the reply

"Aikaterine", she replies in the language of her former Master.
I think I like this part best. Now they know everything and share everything, even death - a dream perhaps? - but they know a name too. There is a triumph there, a poignant connection that Lucretius and Mark us can't touch.

And in the end, they're left in the shit. ;)

Really good, Barb. :clapping::clapping::beer:
 
Messaline is not responsible of the roman'soldiers mistakes ...
It's too much easy to crucified her for that ...:eek:

So, our barb is dead ? I was thinking to give her a role in my next Paskell's Saga !:eek::(

But .... :clapping:for the story ... and we're on CF : all is possible, even a resurrection !

View attachment 516898 :D
Even in NW Arkansas... I hope...
 
14.

The sun is down. Darkness descends. The end is nigh.

Only a slight breeze, every now and then, stirs the evening calm. The crowds have dispersed ... the road lies empty, save for scattered debris left behind. Only a few legionaries remain, under orders to watch over the dead and dying.

Markus and Lucretius are among them ... they lounge on the ground beneath our cross, resting their backs against the heavy wood of the stipe and loudly bragging about their exploits that day ... about their prowess with a whip, and about how they so skillfully managed to get two girls crucified together on the same cross. In their retelling, little if any credit is given to the Optio.

That death is not far off, my cross-mate and I are aware and, truth be told, we wish it would come soon. Most of the two hundred souls crucified this day by the Roman legionaries are dead, although a few still live. The occasional moan or groan, or the creak of wood tells me this is so. But as two of the last to be raised, she and I will likely be among the very last to die.

We still link fingers ... although what was once a tender touch has become stiff and rigid ... locked is a better way to describe it ... as unbreakable link that bonds our souls together ... we and each other ... we together along with the rough cross that bears our poor tortured bodies.

We say little to one another. There are no words. Of what would we speak? But yet, one more thing must be said, must be exchanged before it's too late.

"Barbara," I say to her, and wait expectantly for the reply

"Aikaterine", she replies in the language of her former Master.

Enough! I am ready. It will all end in a dream. I close my eyes. The pain is gone. Everything relaxes. I am slipping. I hold nothing in. Fluidity. Loss. Gone.

"Oh Shit!" exclaims Lucretius, jumping to his feet.

Death with a smile.

View attachment 516877
(manip by The Hanging Tree, colorization by Siss)


FINIS

Not the normal story at all.

A twist and turn with a real depth of emotion ...

terror is more than just fear ...

it has it's source in existence

Presence between the shadows and the light

Do you look under the bed ...

Or sleep there?


:confused:

;)
 
Enough! I am ready. It will all end in a dream. I close my eyes. The pain is gone. Everything relaxes. I am slipping. I hold nothing in. Fluidity. Loss. Gone.

"Oh Shit!" exclaims Lucretius, jumping to his feet.

Death with a smile.
LOL!! I had to re-read that last part a second time. I wasn't sure if I miss read it or not. I did have feeling that it was foolish for Markus and Lucretius to take their break at the base of a cross, with two people still nailed to it. What a bunch of morons making such a rookie mistake like that. You'd think they'd know better, after being on crucifixion duty before. At least you were able to get some revenge on them both in the end. Fantastic story, Barb.
 
14.

The sun is down. Darkness descends. The end is nigh.

Only a slight breeze, every now and then, stirs the evening calm. The crowds have dispersed ... the road lies empty, save for scattered debris left behind. Only a few legionaries remain, under orders to watch over the dead and dying.

Markus and Lucretius are among them ... they lounge on the ground beneath our cross, resting their backs against the heavy wood of the stipe and loudly bragging about their exploits that day ... about their prowess with a whip, and about how they so skillfully managed to get two girls crucified together on the same cross. In their retelling, little if any credit is given to the Optio.

That death is not far off, my cross-mate and I are aware and, truth be told, we wish it would come soon. Most of the two hundred souls crucified this day by the Roman legionaries are dead, although a few still live. The occasional moan or groan, or the creak of wood tells me this is so. But as two of the last to be raised, she and I will likely be among the very last to die.

We still link fingers ... although what was once a tender touch has become stiff and rigid ... locked is a better way to describe it ... as unbreakable link that bonds our souls together ... we and each other ... we together along with the rough cross that bears our poor tortured bodies.

We say little to one another. There are no words. Of what would we speak? But yet, one more thing must be said, must be exchanged before it's too late.

"Barbara," I say to her, and wait expectantly for the reply

"Aikaterine", she replies in the language of her former Master.

Enough! I am ready. It will all end in a dream. I close my eyes. The pain is gone. Everything relaxes. I am slipping. I hold nothing in. Fluidity. Loss. Gone.

"Oh Shit!" exclaims Lucretius, jumping to his feet.

Death with a smile.

View attachment 516877
(manip by The Hanging Tree, colorization by Siss)


FINIS
Thank's for another great story! I wonder what your next idea will be, your creativeness seems to be limitless! Crucified by space Nazis on the moon? :) Quadruple cross? The TV show Robinson taken over by Romans, who crucifies for real all female participants? We crux perverts awaits your next story with great anticipation!



gnph425.jpg190509-er-gud-med-i-robinson--.jpg
 
Thank's for another great story! I wonder what your next idea will be, your creativeness seems to be limitless! Crucified by space Nazis on the moon? :) Quadruple cross? The TV show Robinson taken over by Romans, who crucifies for real all female participants? We crux perverts awaits your next story with great anticipation!



View attachment 517099View attachment 517100

Sounds to me, xso, that your imagination runs as wild as my own. ;)
 
Thank's for another great story! I wonder what your next idea will be, your creativeness seems to be limitless! Crucified by space Nazis on the moon? :) Quadruple cross? The TV show Robinson taken over by Romans, who crucifies for real all female participants? We crux perverts awaits your next story with great anticipation!



View attachment 517099View attachment 517100
I think, the swimsuitss are very disturbingly for us onlooker.
 
Well done, Barb! I really enjoyed this one. A lot of emotional depth, and it feels so real and serious, but at the same time you manage to weave some of your humor in there, which is great. Not easy to do!
 
4.

The Optio's veiled reference to decimation has its desired affect. I can tell by the wide-eyed, open-mouth way that Lucretius and Markus look at one another. Moments later they spring into action.

"Hurry!" shouts Markus, pointing at me. "Let's start by getting this one nailed to the wood!"

"Righto!" enthuses Lucretius as he gathers up rope and hammer. He rushes toward me, but momentarily distracted by a shrieking young woman being raised on the cross next to ours, he trips over his own feet and takes an inglorious tumble that lands him in the muddy ditch bottom.

"Damn fools!" groans the Optio from the roadside.

I look at the girl sitting next to me, who appears to be stifling a smirk. She has spirit, I conclude and roll my eyes in return. We are in this together!

Lucretius, however, recovers faster than I might have anticipated. I gasp as a muddy paw firmly grips my arm from behind and drags me to my feet.

"Let's go," he hisses, propelling me towards Markus and the waiting cross.

Markus catches me as I stumble forward, deftly spins me about and uses a knife to sever the cord that binds my wrists behind my back.

A fist in the stomach follows, bringing me to my knees gasping for air. Then they have me lying flat on my back against the hard timbered shank of the cross.

Kneeling on either side of me they forcibly extend my arms out along the crossbeam. Two more legionaries appear overhead, ready to assist. Ropes are woven with practiced efficiency through my fingers and thumbs, around my hands and then around the crossbeam wood ... and tightly knotted there so as to hold my hands and wrists in place.

I curse them. Lucretius laughs and straddles me, using his knees to hold my shoulders in place. His foul breath assaults my flared nostrils. Panic stricken, I shake my head from side to side. Mud drips from his forehead as he holds me down, spattering on my chin, neck and mounded breasts.

Rushing around, Markus pushes one of the helping legionaries aside and squats near my right hand. He grips a rusty iron spike in one hand and a hammer in the other. With a look of intense concentration, he moves the point of the spike about on my wrist, searching for the right spot.

I continue to curse. I kick ineffectually with my my legs and feet.

But then I catch sight of her. She still sits in the same place, watching. There is something calming about her gaze ... almost as though we are soulmates ... known one another forever.

I lock eyes with hers and stop my struggling.

The point of the spike is pressed home, pricking my skin.

"This is it," I think, taking a deep breath and maintaining the mesmerizing lock of my eyes on hers.

I sense movement ... and then ...

TO BE CONTINUED
Madiosi 2017-239-04-Together.jpg
 
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