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The Selfie
- Thread starter Wragg
- Start date
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- Tags
- original story
A thousand apologies! 
I skipped a section!
This should have come before the last section!
Really sorry. Shoot the Chronicler
**********************************
They just cut Ella’s rope, so she fell into the dust, bits of grit getting into her wounded back. She staggered to her feet, as they began to strip Yupar.
“No! Wait! Yupar, you can’t do this. It’s very sweet of you, but….I didn’t pull you out of that building just so you could die in agony on a cross!”
The guard paused, with Yupar’s T-shirt in his hand, leaving Yupar standing in her shorts and bra.
Raggi cut in. “Would you like me to toss a coin, maybe? Or draw straws?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Ella, Yupar has agreed to be crucified on your behalf, so just shut up, put her clothes on, and come and watch her take your punishment.”
“Bastard!” cried Tash, “You have no right to do this to anyone!”
Raggi backhanded her across the face, and she went flying. Ella watched, helpless, firstly as PP helped Tash back onto her feet, and then as Yupar was stripped nude. They freed Ella’s wrists, then reluctantly, feeling as if she was in a dream, she put on Yupar’s slacks and T-shirt. Yupar and she were of a similar size. Her bra didn’t fit, but her shoes were a close fit, and she was glad to be dressed again, and to be shod again.
Ella did not want to watch these women being crucified. The thought simply horrified her. “Can I….go now? Can I have my bag back?” she asked.
“You may not go!” Raggi was furious. “I told you, you will walk with them to the market place!”
“Lucky you!” sneered Tash. Her voice rose to a high pitched, mocking tone. “I’m sorry, Mr Raggi! Please forgive me, Mr Raggi! Yes, sir, no, sir three bags full sir, Mr Raggi! I hope you enjoy the rest of your life! It’ll take you a while to get the taste of his arse off your tongue, though!”
“Tash, shut up.” PP hung a sign, in Taranasian, around Tash’s neck. “You’re not making things any better for yourself. At least she had the sense to apologise. Maybe if you had, too, poor Yupar wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I’m not taking the blame for her!” flared Tash. “She volunteered! I fucking didn’t! And what the fuck does that say?”
“It says, ‘My name is Tash and I caused the earthquake!’ Now come on, get moving.”
I skipped a section!
This should have come before the last section!
Really sorry. Shoot the Chronicler
**********************************
They just cut Ella’s rope, so she fell into the dust, bits of grit getting into her wounded back. She staggered to her feet, as they began to strip Yupar.
“No! Wait! Yupar, you can’t do this. It’s very sweet of you, but….I didn’t pull you out of that building just so you could die in agony on a cross!”
The guard paused, with Yupar’s T-shirt in his hand, leaving Yupar standing in her shorts and bra.
Raggi cut in. “Would you like me to toss a coin, maybe? Or draw straws?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Ella, Yupar has agreed to be crucified on your behalf, so just shut up, put her clothes on, and come and watch her take your punishment.”
“Bastard!” cried Tash, “You have no right to do this to anyone!”
Raggi backhanded her across the face, and she went flying. Ella watched, helpless, firstly as PP helped Tash back onto her feet, and then as Yupar was stripped nude. They freed Ella’s wrists, then reluctantly, feeling as if she was in a dream, she put on Yupar’s slacks and T-shirt. Yupar and she were of a similar size. Her bra didn’t fit, but her shoes were a close fit, and she was glad to be dressed again, and to be shod again.
Ella did not want to watch these women being crucified. The thought simply horrified her. “Can I….go now? Can I have my bag back?” she asked.
“You may not go!” Raggi was furious. “I told you, you will walk with them to the market place!”
“Lucky you!” sneered Tash. Her voice rose to a high pitched, mocking tone. “I’m sorry, Mr Raggi! Please forgive me, Mr Raggi! Yes, sir, no, sir three bags full sir, Mr Raggi! I hope you enjoy the rest of your life! It’ll take you a while to get the taste of his arse off your tongue, though!”
“Tash, shut up.” PP hung a sign, in Taranasian, around Tash’s neck. “You’re not making things any better for yourself. At least she had the sense to apologise. Maybe if you had, too, poor Yupar wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I’m not taking the blame for her!” flared Tash. “She volunteered! I fucking didn’t! And what the fuck does that say?”
“It says, ‘My name is Tash and I caused the earthquake!’ Now come on, get moving.”
Celticvirgin
Tribune
I really don't like me.A thousand apologies!
I skipped a section!
This should have come before the last section!
Really sorry. Shoot the Chronicler
**********************************
They just cut Ella’s rope, so she fell into the dust, bits of grit getting into her wounded back. She staggered to her feet, as they began to strip Yupar.
“No! Wait! Yupar, you can’t do this. It’s very sweet of you, but….I didn’t pull you out of that building just so you could die in agony on a cross!”
The guard paused, with Yupar’s T-shirt in his hand, leaving Yupar standing in her shorts and bra.
Raggi cut in. “Would you like me to toss a coin, maybe? Or draw straws?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Ella, Yupar has agreed to be crucified on your behalf, so just shut up, put her clothes on, and come and watch her take your punishment.”
“Bastard!” cried Tash, “You have no right to do this to anyone!”
Raggi backhanded her across the face, and she went flying. Ella watched, helpless, firstly as PP helped Tash back onto her feet, and then as Yupar was stripped nude. They freed Ella’s wrists, then reluctantly, feeling as if she was in a dream, she put on Yupar’s slacks and T-shirt. Yupar and she were of a similar size. Her bra didn’t fit, but her shoes were a close fit, and she was glad to be dressed again, and to be shod again.
Ella did not want to watch these women being crucified. The thought simply horrified her. “Can I….go now? Can I have my bag back?” she asked.
“You may not go!” Raggi was furious. “I told you, you will walk with them to the market place!”
“Lucky you!” sneered Tash. Her voice rose to a high pitched, mocking tone. “I’m sorry, Mr Raggi! Please forgive me, Mr Raggi! Yes, sir, no, sir three bags full sir, Mr Raggi! I hope you enjoy the rest of your life! It’ll take you a while to get the taste of his arse off your tongue, though!”
“Tash, shut up.” PP hung a sign, in Taranasian, around Tash’s neck. “You’re not making things any better for yourself. At least she had the sense to apologise. Maybe if you had, too, poor Yupar wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“I’m not taking the blame for her!” flared Tash. “She volunteered! I fucking didn’t! And what the fuck does that say?”
“It says, ‘My name is Tash and I caused the earthquake!’ Now come on, get moving.”
Celticvirgin
Tribune
In this story I should emphasise! 
Right-ho, as I'm managing to completely bugger up the telling of this story, let's have another quick recap. Now Ella's wearing Yupar's t-shirt and shorts (and shoes)
Poor Tash and Yupar have been paraded nude to the market place, though Yupar collected a blanket en-route, all Tash collected were a load of squishy and not so squishy vegetables, and a whole load of abuse from the crowd.
In the market place stands an array of crosses, two are down awaiting their next customers, and there is and eager Taranasian soldier standing there, apparently fresh from the Tree Academy of Crucifixion Technique (TACT).
OK, let's see if I can now find the correct section to post.....
*****************
They did at least allow Ella to stand next to Tash. Tash stood and looked at the crosses and wept in fear. She sank to her knees, “Noo!! Oh, nooo!! Please! This can’t be happening!”
Her bare shoulders, though splattered, hadn’t been injured, so Ella put her arm around her shoulder. Tash buried her face in Ella’s shoulder. “Oh, Ella, oh my God, I’ve been so stupid! I was so horrible to you! I should have said sorry! Like you did! Oh God, you’re the sensible one, why didn’t I do what you did? Oh Tash, you stupid fucking bitch!”
Ella stroked her hair, not a pleasant experience, matted as it was by egg and various other unpleasant things, but nevertheless a comfort to them both.
“Raggi!” Ella called him. “Oh Mighty wotsit of whatever, may you live till whenever, look at her! Come on, you’ve had your fun! This is the twenty-first century, and you cannot actually crucify people. It’s against human rights. And you certainly can’t crucify Yupar, she’s done nothing wrong! So come on, just let us go, and I promise we won’t tell anyone or get you or PP or anyone else into trouble!
Once again, she noticed him look at the hooded monk, who shook his head. ‘Who the hell is that?’ she wondered.
Raggi addressed the crowd, in Taranasian, and PP translated.
“People of Taranasia, we have this day been visited by a terrible earthquake. Many have died, many more lay injured. These two women insulted the mountain god Kibonreju, and triggered this earthquake. They both deserve to die, especially the naked one, the ‘Celtic Virgin’ Tash, who remained unrepentant until the moment she saw her cross, and has dreadfully insulted the sacred name of Kibonreju. Her crucifixion is inevitable.”
Tash’s howl of despair was almost drowned out by the wild cheering of the crowd.
“The other, she that kneels beside her, her name is ‘Ella’, and she is more remorseful, thanks to our very good friend PP, but she should also die. However, her case is more…” he paused to clear his throat, “….complicated. She rescued Yupar and two small children from a wrecked building seconds before a devastating gas explosion. Yupar, here wrapped in a blanket, as a mark of sincere respect and thanks, has offered to take her place on the cross. She begged me with tears, and I relented, and agreed to her request, and so now Yupar will be crucified, while Tash and Ella watch.”
The crowd sounded much more restless at this, but Yupar was determined to see it through. She stepped forward, and slipped the blanket off.
Her body was unmarked, her breasts perfect, her slim waist was borne on perfectly proportioned hips. The garland of flowers were still around her neck. The crowd sighed when they saw how beautiful she was, and apart from a few isolated shouts, you could have heard a pin drop.
She walked over to her cross, turned, and lay down. She stretched out her arms fearlessly, to await the nails.
A lone voice called out from the crowd. “At least use rope, not nails.” PP translated.
But the soldier was not using rope. He held the spike against Yupar’s wrist, and Yupar took one look at it, then turned her head away, sudden doubt in her eyes. But it was too late now to change her mind, she was held firmly in place, and Ella watched the hammer fall.
There was a spark as it struck the nail, and Ella saw the nail move quite a distance through Yupar’s wrist and into the wood. Then she heard the most god-awful, terrified, agonised scream that she’d ever heard in her life. That was the moment that Yupar had realised that she’s let bravado triumph over wisdom, the moment that the full agony of crucifixion overwhelmed her.
“No!! Stop!!! I’ve made a mistake! Let me go!! HEEEELP!!” The hammer struck again, and again, and Yupar, bucking and twisting, was powerless to stop it.
Tears streamed down Ella’s face as she observed the full horror of what was happening to Yupar, of what was about to happen to the sobbing Tash beside her, and of what should have been happening to her at that very moment. She watched as the soldier crossed to the other wrist and the torture resumed. The crowd, too, were screaming and wailing.
They bent Yupar’s knees, pressed her feet flat against the wood, and drove a nail through each into the timber.
“Ella!” Tash was in a terrible state. “Ella! They really did it! They nailed that poor woman to that cross! Oh My God! Look! Now they are standing it up! Ella! Tell me this isn’t real! There is NO WAY that I could stand up to that! Christ Ella! Look at that poor woman! Listen to her screaming! It’s inhuman – how can any human being be expected to bear being nailed to a cross! They say they are going to that to me, now, but they can’t!” She stood up, and made as if to run, but PP grabbed her by both upper arms.
Over his shoulder they were fixing the cross, bearing a writhing, screaming Yupar, into the upright position.
PP gazed into her eyes,
“Tash,” said PP. “I am so very, very, sorry. You’re going nowhere, except to that cross. It’s time for your crucifixion.”
Poor Tash and Yupar have been paraded nude to the market place, though Yupar collected a blanket en-route, all Tash collected were a load of squishy and not so squishy vegetables, and a whole load of abuse from the crowd.
In the market place stands an array of crosses, two are down awaiting their next customers, and there is and eager Taranasian soldier standing there, apparently fresh from the Tree Academy of Crucifixion Technique (TACT).
OK, let's see if I can now find the correct section to post.....
*****************
They did at least allow Ella to stand next to Tash. Tash stood and looked at the crosses and wept in fear. She sank to her knees, “Noo!! Oh, nooo!! Please! This can’t be happening!”
Her bare shoulders, though splattered, hadn’t been injured, so Ella put her arm around her shoulder. Tash buried her face in Ella’s shoulder. “Oh, Ella, oh my God, I’ve been so stupid! I was so horrible to you! I should have said sorry! Like you did! Oh God, you’re the sensible one, why didn’t I do what you did? Oh Tash, you stupid fucking bitch!”
Ella stroked her hair, not a pleasant experience, matted as it was by egg and various other unpleasant things, but nevertheless a comfort to them both.
“Raggi!” Ella called him. “Oh Mighty wotsit of whatever, may you live till whenever, look at her! Come on, you’ve had your fun! This is the twenty-first century, and you cannot actually crucify people. It’s against human rights. And you certainly can’t crucify Yupar, she’s done nothing wrong! So come on, just let us go, and I promise we won’t tell anyone or get you or PP or anyone else into trouble!
Once again, she noticed him look at the hooded monk, who shook his head. ‘Who the hell is that?’ she wondered.
Raggi addressed the crowd, in Taranasian, and PP translated.
“People of Taranasia, we have this day been visited by a terrible earthquake. Many have died, many more lay injured. These two women insulted the mountain god Kibonreju, and triggered this earthquake. They both deserve to die, especially the naked one, the ‘Celtic Virgin’ Tash, who remained unrepentant until the moment she saw her cross, and has dreadfully insulted the sacred name of Kibonreju. Her crucifixion is inevitable.”
Tash’s howl of despair was almost drowned out by the wild cheering of the crowd.
“The other, she that kneels beside her, her name is ‘Ella’, and she is more remorseful, thanks to our very good friend PP, but she should also die. However, her case is more…” he paused to clear his throat, “….complicated. She rescued Yupar and two small children from a wrecked building seconds before a devastating gas explosion. Yupar, here wrapped in a blanket, as a mark of sincere respect and thanks, has offered to take her place on the cross. She begged me with tears, and I relented, and agreed to her request, and so now Yupar will be crucified, while Tash and Ella watch.”
The crowd sounded much more restless at this, but Yupar was determined to see it through. She stepped forward, and slipped the blanket off.
Her body was unmarked, her breasts perfect, her slim waist was borne on perfectly proportioned hips. The garland of flowers were still around her neck. The crowd sighed when they saw how beautiful she was, and apart from a few isolated shouts, you could have heard a pin drop.
She walked over to her cross, turned, and lay down. She stretched out her arms fearlessly, to await the nails.
A lone voice called out from the crowd. “At least use rope, not nails.” PP translated.
But the soldier was not using rope. He held the spike against Yupar’s wrist, and Yupar took one look at it, then turned her head away, sudden doubt in her eyes. But it was too late now to change her mind, she was held firmly in place, and Ella watched the hammer fall.
There was a spark as it struck the nail, and Ella saw the nail move quite a distance through Yupar’s wrist and into the wood. Then she heard the most god-awful, terrified, agonised scream that she’d ever heard in her life. That was the moment that Yupar had realised that she’s let bravado triumph over wisdom, the moment that the full agony of crucifixion overwhelmed her.
“No!! Stop!!! I’ve made a mistake! Let me go!! HEEEELP!!” The hammer struck again, and again, and Yupar, bucking and twisting, was powerless to stop it.
Tears streamed down Ella’s face as she observed the full horror of what was happening to Yupar, of what was about to happen to the sobbing Tash beside her, and of what should have been happening to her at that very moment. She watched as the soldier crossed to the other wrist and the torture resumed. The crowd, too, were screaming and wailing.
They bent Yupar’s knees, pressed her feet flat against the wood, and drove a nail through each into the timber.
“Ella!” Tash was in a terrible state. “Ella! They really did it! They nailed that poor woman to that cross! Oh My God! Look! Now they are standing it up! Ella! Tell me this isn’t real! There is NO WAY that I could stand up to that! Christ Ella! Look at that poor woman! Listen to her screaming! It’s inhuman – how can any human being be expected to bear being nailed to a cross! They say they are going to that to me, now, but they can’t!” She stood up, and made as if to run, but PP grabbed her by both upper arms.
Over his shoulder they were fixing the cross, bearing a writhing, screaming Yupar, into the upright position.
PP gazed into her eyes,
“Tash,” said PP. “I am so very, very, sorry. You’re going nowhere, except to that cross. It’s time for your crucifixion.”
Thessela
Beloved slavegirl
Yikes! Well done, Mr. Wragg. I'm a nervous wreck after that.
Doesn't show our Pp in particularly heroic context, eh?
I dread Tash's moment, coming up.
I have to admit to you both, I got a touch....overwrought....writing it
I've done that, too. Sometimes the story drags the author along. Stay in the spell.I have to admit to you both, I got a touch....overwrought....writing it
I have to admit to you both, I got a touch....overwrought....writing it
Wragg, the story comes from the heart, from the emotion. Go with it! See where it takes you, however uncomfortable!
Poor Yupar! This part is so wrenching, the good hearted girl who bravely volunteers, accepts crucifixion. Faced with the crunching reality, the awful truth, she breaks. Who wouldn't? That is the challenge. Who has the strength to hold on to dignity in the face of that?
Yes Thess, those words. And we know, don't we, that they are the words you long to hear yourself.
"It’s time for your crucifixion"
You envy Tash, in your heart. You envy her experience to come.
There is a cross waiting for you too, somewhere
Thessela
Beloved slavegirl
You envy Tash, in your heart. You envy her experience to come.
There is a cross waiting for you too, somewhere
Oh I tremble, but is it fear or desire ??
Soldiers came to take Tash, relieving PP of the responsibility of dragging her to the cross. But in the end the only way they could get Tash near that cross was to physically carry her.
Ella tried to get up, but a soldier restrained her. “Please!” she said, “She’s my best friend, she’s my lover! Let me go with her!”
Unbelievably, he let her go, and she followed the fighting, biting, screaming Tash to her cross. PP gently touched her arm as she passed him.
They fought her down onto that cross. It must have been agony already as Tash’s bleeding back was forced down onto that rough timber. A soldier held her pelvis down and two more were on each arm, forcing it out onto the cross. Ella knelt down by Tash’s head, and then Tash saw her again.
“Ella! Oh God! You’re here! Oh Ella, stop them, pleeeeazzze stop them! I can’t bear this! Oh, Fucking Hell, Ella, I am SO scared!!”
Above them, Yupar was still screaming, pleading to be let down.
“Tash! Oh Tash, I am so sorry, you know I can’t stop them, I only wish I could. She kissed her, then pressed her cheek firmly against Tash’s. “Try and be brave, my sweet one!”
At that moment, the hammer struck the nail.
“AAAARGHHHHH!!! OHH FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!! JESUS CHRIST! THAT HURTS SO FUUUUUCKING MUCH!!! AAAARGHHH!!! STOP!! PLEASE STOP!!” Ella had to move, as Tash thrashed in her utter agony. Then she started stroking her hair, but she just felt so powerless to help. “I’m here, Tash, Oh God! You have to stop this! You inhuman bastards, for God’s sake! Look at her! Stop!” As she said this some of Tash’s blood sprayed across her face.
PP did look at Tash, but other than that Ella was ignored.
They’d finished driving the nail through her left wrist, and, in those brief moments as the soldier was crossing over, Tash opened her eyes and looked at Ella. “Ella!” she sobbed, “I CANNOT Stand this! You HAVE to make them stop! Please!”
Then the nail was smashed into her right wrist, and Tash was once more screaming incoherently.
Ella looked up at PP. “PP! For Christ’s sake, man, this is medieval! We have to stop them!”
PP was unable to console her. “Ella, I’m sorry, it’s the Taranasian way. They use these crosses more often than you’d believe. You heard him threaten me with one earlier. What can I do?”
“Well you don’t have to be so fucking co-operative, for a start!” Ella flared.
Blood was trickling from Tash’s mouth, she’d obviously bitten her tongue, and she kicked herself upwards, throwing the soldier off completely, as she arched her back in total, and literal, excruciating pain.
Ella’s tears fell onto Tash’s face. Again Tash’s eyes opened. “Ella! Help me!! Oh Christ and God, Help me! Oh, sweet Mary, please get me off this cross! Oh Ella, it hurts, I can’t tell you how much it fucking hurts! Oh, God, no, what are they doing now?”
Tash knew perfectly well what they were doing, she’d seen it happen to Yupar, but her tortured brain was unable to accept that another human being would be prepared to increase her suffering still further. She lifted her head and watched as they bent her knees and pressed her feet against the wood. “NO! Please don’t hurt me any more!” But they pressed a nail against her right foot anyway. “Oh, fuck, they don’t speak English! PP! Tell them!”
The soldier paused in the act of raising the hammer as PP said something to him in Taranasian. He grinned, and carried on raising the hammer.
“NO, OH NO!!!!!” She sobbed and screamed as the nail smashed through her foot, a fountain of blood spraying over the soldier, who ignored both it and Tash’s protests, and carried on until the nail was home.
Ella buried her face into Tash’s shoulder as the final nail was driven through Tash’s left foot; the noise Tash was making was absolutely deafening, and she was thrashing about furiously, but Ella didn’t care. She just wanted to be close to her tortured friend in her hour of need.
“Time to go, Ella, we have to raise her!” PP was sympathetic, but he knew that the soldiers wouldn’t wait. She kissed Tash on the forehead. “I love you, Tash.”
Tash looked Ella in the eyes. Pain was etched into her face. “Love you, too!”
PP hammered the notice that had been around Tash’s neck to the cross above her head. Then the cross started moving, and Tash resumed screaming as her weight was taken on her cruelly injured wrists and feet.
The cross clunked into its upright position with Tash’s head about ten feet above the ground. As it lurched to a stop Tash was thrown about, but her dreadful screams were equalled by the cheer that went up from the watching crowd.
Ella tried to get up, but a soldier restrained her. “Please!” she said, “She’s my best friend, she’s my lover! Let me go with her!”
Unbelievably, he let her go, and she followed the fighting, biting, screaming Tash to her cross. PP gently touched her arm as she passed him.
They fought her down onto that cross. It must have been agony already as Tash’s bleeding back was forced down onto that rough timber. A soldier held her pelvis down and two more were on each arm, forcing it out onto the cross. Ella knelt down by Tash’s head, and then Tash saw her again.
“Ella! Oh God! You’re here! Oh Ella, stop them, pleeeeazzze stop them! I can’t bear this! Oh, Fucking Hell, Ella, I am SO scared!!”
Above them, Yupar was still screaming, pleading to be let down.
“Tash! Oh Tash, I am so sorry, you know I can’t stop them, I only wish I could. She kissed her, then pressed her cheek firmly against Tash’s. “Try and be brave, my sweet one!”
At that moment, the hammer struck the nail.
“AAAARGHHHHH!!! OHH FUCKKKKKKKK!!!!! JESUS CHRIST! THAT HURTS SO FUUUUUCKING MUCH!!! AAAARGHHH!!! STOP!! PLEASE STOP!!” Ella had to move, as Tash thrashed in her utter agony. Then she started stroking her hair, but she just felt so powerless to help. “I’m here, Tash, Oh God! You have to stop this! You inhuman bastards, for God’s sake! Look at her! Stop!” As she said this some of Tash’s blood sprayed across her face.
PP did look at Tash, but other than that Ella was ignored.
They’d finished driving the nail through her left wrist, and, in those brief moments as the soldier was crossing over, Tash opened her eyes and looked at Ella. “Ella!” she sobbed, “I CANNOT Stand this! You HAVE to make them stop! Please!”
Then the nail was smashed into her right wrist, and Tash was once more screaming incoherently.
Ella looked up at PP. “PP! For Christ’s sake, man, this is medieval! We have to stop them!”
PP was unable to console her. “Ella, I’m sorry, it’s the Taranasian way. They use these crosses more often than you’d believe. You heard him threaten me with one earlier. What can I do?”
“Well you don’t have to be so fucking co-operative, for a start!” Ella flared.
Blood was trickling from Tash’s mouth, she’d obviously bitten her tongue, and she kicked herself upwards, throwing the soldier off completely, as she arched her back in total, and literal, excruciating pain.
Ella’s tears fell onto Tash’s face. Again Tash’s eyes opened. “Ella! Help me!! Oh Christ and God, Help me! Oh, sweet Mary, please get me off this cross! Oh Ella, it hurts, I can’t tell you how much it fucking hurts! Oh, God, no, what are they doing now?”
Tash knew perfectly well what they were doing, she’d seen it happen to Yupar, but her tortured brain was unable to accept that another human being would be prepared to increase her suffering still further. She lifted her head and watched as they bent her knees and pressed her feet against the wood. “NO! Please don’t hurt me any more!” But they pressed a nail against her right foot anyway. “Oh, fuck, they don’t speak English! PP! Tell them!”
The soldier paused in the act of raising the hammer as PP said something to him in Taranasian. He grinned, and carried on raising the hammer.
“NO, OH NO!!!!!” She sobbed and screamed as the nail smashed through her foot, a fountain of blood spraying over the soldier, who ignored both it and Tash’s protests, and carried on until the nail was home.
Ella buried her face into Tash’s shoulder as the final nail was driven through Tash’s left foot; the noise Tash was making was absolutely deafening, and she was thrashing about furiously, but Ella didn’t care. She just wanted to be close to her tortured friend in her hour of need.
“Time to go, Ella, we have to raise her!” PP was sympathetic, but he knew that the soldiers wouldn’t wait. She kissed Tash on the forehead. “I love you, Tash.”
Tash looked Ella in the eyes. Pain was etched into her face. “Love you, too!”
PP hammered the notice that had been around Tash’s neck to the cross above her head. Then the cross started moving, and Tash resumed screaming as her weight was taken on her cruelly injured wrists and feet.
The cross clunked into its upright position with Tash’s head about ten feet above the ground. As it lurched to a stop Tash was thrown about, but her dreadful screams were equalled by the cheer that went up from the watching crowd.
“Hi, Tash.” Yupar looked along her arm, past her own nailed wrist, to greet her fellow-sufferer.
It was a few moments before Tash could respond. “Hi, Yupar……Christ, this sucks!”
Yupar began to smile at the understatement, then a pang of agony struck her, and her face contorted in distress. “I……am glad…..I’m not……alone!”
Watching below, Ella also felt a pang, almost of jealousy. These two women, sisters in suffering, sisters in nudity, sisters of the cross, now shared something that she, dressed and watching from the ground below, could not share. Part of her wanted to be there with them.
Then Tash cried out, at the top of her voice, “How can this be justice? Even if I had deliberately caused this earthquake, how could I deserve…..this? And Yupar? What has she done? BASTAAAARDS!!!”
Tash’s spirit could not even be crushed by hammer and nails. The crowd understood sufficient English that her words hit home, and they fell silent, watching the drama of two naked women fighting their crucifixion.
Ella loved Tash so much, as she looked up at her. Her tears poured down her cheeks. She was both terrified and in awe of what had been done to her. She wanted to stay, she wanted to run, she wanted to die, she wanted to live. Her senses were overwhelmed: the sights of crucifixion, the sounds of crucifixion, the smell of crucifixion. But Tash could add taste and feel to the list! God, if only she could have saved her from this!
“Sweet Mother of Christ, help me!” groaned Tash.
And then Ella looked at the nails, at the bruised, bleeding flesh around them, and at the streams of blood flowing along Tash’s arms and down onto her breasts; she saw her suspended nude high above her head, and she wondered if there was any way out of this. Could she get away, call an embassy? Clearly the local police were part of the problem, but surely someone, somewhere, could help Tash?
She tore her eyes away from Tash. Raggi was gazing at Tash with rapt attention, his mouth partly open, a picture of revolting lasciviousness.
The hooded monk was standing next to him, his face was still not visible, but he, too, had his full attention on the crucified women.
PP, however, was approaching her. She didn’t give him time to speak. “You BASTARD!” she yelled. “You! BASTARD! You….helped them do…. THAT to her!! How could you? How fucking could you?” She beat her fists on his chest, and all the emotion of the past few hours broke over her. She wept onto his shoulder, and he put an arm around hers, careful to avoid her injured back.
PP made no attempt to justify himself. To PP, things just were as they were, what was the point of changing them? But he was pleased at Ella’s reprieve.
“Eer y’are,” he said, at length. He held something out to her. With a shock, she realised it was her bag. She peered inside. Everything was there, purse, keys, passport, airline tickets. Even that bloody mobile phone.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I need to get you outa here. I’ve got a car. I’m takin’ you to the hotel, then straight to the airport. Last plane out tonight is for Perth, Australia. You can fly home from there.”
At that moment, a Qantas 747 roared overhead, temporarily drowning out Tash and Yupar’s groans and cries. Ella imagined herself in a window seat. Could the people up there even see this terrible sight? ‘How lucky they are’, she thought, ‘most of them will be reading or composing themselves for sleep, and I could be up there myself in a couple of hours!’
‘But only because Yupar is up there!’ said her conscience. As the sounds of the Jumbo Jet died away, Yupar began to struggle up the cross to get a breath, and to relieve the strain on her wrists. The sheer physical effort of it appalled Ella, the pain from Yupar’s crippled feet beyond her imagination.
The crowd, seeing Yupar’s efforts, was beginning to call for Ella’s blood again.
“Come ON!” said PP, anxiously. “I’ll escort you, I’ll have to, you’ll be dead if I don’t.
“Ella!” Tash had picked up on the proposed plan. “Ella! Don’t leave me here! Make them get us down!”
Ella’s mind was whirling. She did not want to leave Tash, but could she, just maybe get help if she was away from Raggi and the hooded monk?
“Go!” called Yupar, “Live your life…..and……remember me!”
“If I live to be a hundred, I won’t forget either of you!”
“Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella!” The crowd had got it in English now. The soldiers were struggling to hold them back.
Yupar bellowed something in Taranasian. PP translated: “Leave her alone! I am giving my life for her!”
It made no difference. “Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella!”
“Are you really going to be able to get me out of here, PP?”
“I’ll give it a damn good try, I owe it to both of you!”
“Just a moment!” Ella grabbed her phone, and stood in front of Tash’s cross. “Just one more Selfie!”
She held the phone down by her hips, so that you could see Ella in the foreground and the crucified Tash above her.
She typed a message. “Look at us! Tash crucified. You were right. Should have read the fine print. Love Ella.”
Send to…..she didn’t have to scroll down far….BARBARIA1.
“Your message has been sent to BARBARIA1”
“Good. That’s done." She dropped the phone back into her bag, and turned to face PP.
“I’m ready!” she said, her heart pounding. She reached down, and then carefully and slowly pulled the T-shirt up over her head. She pushed her slacks and knickers down, and stepped out of them. “I'm ready to be crucified!”
It was a few moments before Tash could respond. “Hi, Yupar……Christ, this sucks!”
Yupar began to smile at the understatement, then a pang of agony struck her, and her face contorted in distress. “I……am glad…..I’m not……alone!”
Watching below, Ella also felt a pang, almost of jealousy. These two women, sisters in suffering, sisters in nudity, sisters of the cross, now shared something that she, dressed and watching from the ground below, could not share. Part of her wanted to be there with them.
Then Tash cried out, at the top of her voice, “How can this be justice? Even if I had deliberately caused this earthquake, how could I deserve…..this? And Yupar? What has she done? BASTAAAARDS!!!”
Tash’s spirit could not even be crushed by hammer and nails. The crowd understood sufficient English that her words hit home, and they fell silent, watching the drama of two naked women fighting their crucifixion.
Ella loved Tash so much, as she looked up at her. Her tears poured down her cheeks. She was both terrified and in awe of what had been done to her. She wanted to stay, she wanted to run, she wanted to die, she wanted to live. Her senses were overwhelmed: the sights of crucifixion, the sounds of crucifixion, the smell of crucifixion. But Tash could add taste and feel to the list! God, if only she could have saved her from this!
“Sweet Mother of Christ, help me!” groaned Tash.
And then Ella looked at the nails, at the bruised, bleeding flesh around them, and at the streams of blood flowing along Tash’s arms and down onto her breasts; she saw her suspended nude high above her head, and she wondered if there was any way out of this. Could she get away, call an embassy? Clearly the local police were part of the problem, but surely someone, somewhere, could help Tash?
She tore her eyes away from Tash. Raggi was gazing at Tash with rapt attention, his mouth partly open, a picture of revolting lasciviousness.
The hooded monk was standing next to him, his face was still not visible, but he, too, had his full attention on the crucified women.
PP, however, was approaching her. She didn’t give him time to speak. “You BASTARD!” she yelled. “You! BASTARD! You….helped them do…. THAT to her!! How could you? How fucking could you?” She beat her fists on his chest, and all the emotion of the past few hours broke over her. She wept onto his shoulder, and he put an arm around hers, careful to avoid her injured back.
PP made no attempt to justify himself. To PP, things just were as they were, what was the point of changing them? But he was pleased at Ella’s reprieve.
“Eer y’are,” he said, at length. He held something out to her. With a shock, she realised it was her bag. She peered inside. Everything was there, purse, keys, passport, airline tickets. Even that bloody mobile phone.
“Thank you,” she said.
“I need to get you outa here. I’ve got a car. I’m takin’ you to the hotel, then straight to the airport. Last plane out tonight is for Perth, Australia. You can fly home from there.”
At that moment, a Qantas 747 roared overhead, temporarily drowning out Tash and Yupar’s groans and cries. Ella imagined herself in a window seat. Could the people up there even see this terrible sight? ‘How lucky they are’, she thought, ‘most of them will be reading or composing themselves for sleep, and I could be up there myself in a couple of hours!’
‘But only because Yupar is up there!’ said her conscience. As the sounds of the Jumbo Jet died away, Yupar began to struggle up the cross to get a breath, and to relieve the strain on her wrists. The sheer physical effort of it appalled Ella, the pain from Yupar’s crippled feet beyond her imagination.
The crowd, seeing Yupar’s efforts, was beginning to call for Ella’s blood again.
“Come ON!” said PP, anxiously. “I’ll escort you, I’ll have to, you’ll be dead if I don’t.
“Ella!” Tash had picked up on the proposed plan. “Ella! Don’t leave me here! Make them get us down!”
Ella’s mind was whirling. She did not want to leave Tash, but could she, just maybe get help if she was away from Raggi and the hooded monk?
“Go!” called Yupar, “Live your life…..and……remember me!”
“If I live to be a hundred, I won’t forget either of you!”
“Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella!” The crowd had got it in English now. The soldiers were struggling to hold them back.
Yupar bellowed something in Taranasian. PP translated: “Leave her alone! I am giving my life for her!”
It made no difference. “Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella! Crucify Ella!”
“Are you really going to be able to get me out of here, PP?”
“I’ll give it a damn good try, I owe it to both of you!”
“Just a moment!” Ella grabbed her phone, and stood in front of Tash’s cross. “Just one more Selfie!”
She held the phone down by her hips, so that you could see Ella in the foreground and the crucified Tash above her.
She typed a message. “Look at us! Tash crucified. You were right. Should have read the fine print. Love Ella.”
Send to…..she didn’t have to scroll down far….BARBARIA1.
“Your message has been sent to BARBARIA1”
“Good. That’s done." She dropped the phone back into her bag, and turned to face PP.
“I’m ready!” she said, her heart pounding. She reached down, and then carefully and slowly pulled the T-shirt up over her head. She pushed her slacks and knickers down, and stepped out of them. “I'm ready to be crucified!”
I just reread the last two chapters and am in awe of the writing and story line.
We must find out who has taken over Wragg's name and password...
We must find out who has taken over Wragg's name and password...
I just reread the last two chapters and am in awe of the writing and story line.
We must find out who has taken over Wragg's name and password...
I can only think of one suspect....
(That may be more than he deserves, folks, but what the hell, he's the life and soul of the party!
)I have been missing out on all this for days.....no alerts come up for me on this thread
Glad you've found it now, Barb!
The effect was electric. Yupar and Tash yelled, almost in unison “Ella! NOOO!!”
PP stood with his mouth open for a moment, then said “Ella, for fuck’s sake…..”
Tash said “I meant….stay with me on the ground, not on a …. cross!”
Yupar cried in desperation “Ella, am I hanging here for nothing?”
“No!” bellowed Raggi, “You’re hanging there because you defied me! I never had the least intention of allowing Ella to go free! She has merely pre-empted me!” He still, however, checked with the hooded monk for assent. The monk nodded. Raggi waved to the soldiers, who came up on the double and seized Ella.
The crowd roared its approval.
“PP!” yelled Ella, as they hustled her forwards, “I want that cross – the one next to Tash!”
PP rapped out an order in Taranasian. The soldiers began lowering the empty cross next to Tash. Ella’s last request.
Ella was given no opportunity to change her mind. Seconds later she was flat on her injured back on the cross. She felt them pulling her left arm out onto the cross. She saw Tash above her, looking back over her shoulder, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying, because she herself was screaming as she felt the bones in her wrist shatter as the nail passed through them.
Pain, pain, her world became nothing more than white hot, blinding pain. Panic, too, seized her. Whatever had persuaded her to submit to this was forgotten, now she just had to get away! But strong arms and cold steel denied her any possibility of escape.
She was dimly aware that the hooded monk had taken up position by her head, as she had done for Tash. Somewhere nearby a mobile phone took a message, the sound contrasting with the violence of the hammer, as the soldier was continuing to pound at the nail in her left wrist. It wasn’t till the nail was home that she realised that the monk was stroking her hair.
She shook her head violently. “What do you think you are doing? Get off me, you bastard!”
Then she felt a prick in her right wrist. She knew what was coming this time, and she was screaming even before the pain came. This time, perhaps stupidly, she watched. She saw the nail sinking deeper and deeper into the wood, and that was the moment that she realised that there was no going back; she would be part of this cross until she died. She shut her eyes as the same, dreadful, homesickness spread over her as Tash had experienced. This was it now, nudity and agony, this awful, ruined, market square, and this rough, unforgiving cross. She would never see home or her family again. Or Barb. She hoped Barb had got her message. She really missed Barb. Barb had been a great friend to them both.
She opened her eyes and there was Barb, looking down at her, kneeling next to the monk, tears pouring down her face, fingers caressing Ella’s hair. It had been Barb, not the monk, and she’d just called her a bastard! She gazed up at her in total incomprehension. “Barb? Is this some kind of hallucination?”
That was the moment when a nail pierced her foot, and Ella realised that there really is only one thing worse than having a nail pounded through your wrist, and that is having a nail pounded through your foot. For the next couple of minutes all she knew about was terrible, terrible agony.
No sooner had they stopped hammering nails through her feet when the cross started moving. Ella opened her eyes in disbelief. She had been crucified. She had been nailed, nude, to a cross which was now being raised in front of thousands of howling foreigners.
But before her brain could start to cope with the enormity of this, the cross slammed into the upright position, and she was thrown about like a rag doll. Just when you think that crucifixion is beyond human endurance, it gets worse. Ella, overwhelmed by the trauma, collapsed onto her outstretched arms and passed out.
PP stood with his mouth open for a moment, then said “Ella, for fuck’s sake…..”
Tash said “I meant….stay with me on the ground, not on a …. cross!”
Yupar cried in desperation “Ella, am I hanging here for nothing?”
“No!” bellowed Raggi, “You’re hanging there because you defied me! I never had the least intention of allowing Ella to go free! She has merely pre-empted me!” He still, however, checked with the hooded monk for assent. The monk nodded. Raggi waved to the soldiers, who came up on the double and seized Ella.
The crowd roared its approval.
“PP!” yelled Ella, as they hustled her forwards, “I want that cross – the one next to Tash!”
PP rapped out an order in Taranasian. The soldiers began lowering the empty cross next to Tash. Ella’s last request.
Ella was given no opportunity to change her mind. Seconds later she was flat on her injured back on the cross. She felt them pulling her left arm out onto the cross. She saw Tash above her, looking back over her shoulder, but she couldn’t hear what she was saying, because she herself was screaming as she felt the bones in her wrist shatter as the nail passed through them.
Pain, pain, her world became nothing more than white hot, blinding pain. Panic, too, seized her. Whatever had persuaded her to submit to this was forgotten, now she just had to get away! But strong arms and cold steel denied her any possibility of escape.
She was dimly aware that the hooded monk had taken up position by her head, as she had done for Tash. Somewhere nearby a mobile phone took a message, the sound contrasting with the violence of the hammer, as the soldier was continuing to pound at the nail in her left wrist. It wasn’t till the nail was home that she realised that the monk was stroking her hair.
She shook her head violently. “What do you think you are doing? Get off me, you bastard!”
Then she felt a prick in her right wrist. She knew what was coming this time, and she was screaming even before the pain came. This time, perhaps stupidly, she watched. She saw the nail sinking deeper and deeper into the wood, and that was the moment that she realised that there was no going back; she would be part of this cross until she died. She shut her eyes as the same, dreadful, homesickness spread over her as Tash had experienced. This was it now, nudity and agony, this awful, ruined, market square, and this rough, unforgiving cross. She would never see home or her family again. Or Barb. She hoped Barb had got her message. She really missed Barb. Barb had been a great friend to them both.
She opened her eyes and there was Barb, looking down at her, kneeling next to the monk, tears pouring down her face, fingers caressing Ella’s hair. It had been Barb, not the monk, and she’d just called her a bastard! She gazed up at her in total incomprehension. “Barb? Is this some kind of hallucination?”
That was the moment when a nail pierced her foot, and Ella realised that there really is only one thing worse than having a nail pounded through your wrist, and that is having a nail pounded through your foot. For the next couple of minutes all she knew about was terrible, terrible agony.
No sooner had they stopped hammering nails through her feet when the cross started moving. Ella opened her eyes in disbelief. She had been crucified. She had been nailed, nude, to a cross which was now being raised in front of thousands of howling foreigners.
But before her brain could start to cope with the enormity of this, the cross slammed into the upright position, and she was thrown about like a rag doll. Just when you think that crucifixion is beyond human endurance, it gets worse. Ella, overwhelmed by the trauma, collapsed onto her outstretched arms and passed out.