it starts (story name THECA OF ULTIONIS)
so its been some time and i am now just getting to the story.
well here we go. i hope you like it.
THECA OF ULTIONIS
This story should have started some time ago, back when she was first killed, back when love was lost and the first roots of revenge took hold. Oh, it didn’t start in revenge. Grief then loss, and then the bitterness and then finally anger, it grows to revenge and finally action. That is were this story starts; in the action of revenge.
It had been raining for days. The alley potholes were full, and a rainbow of oil that has been collecting for year’s dances on the water, which is illuminated by the only streetlight in the alley. It is momentarily disturbed by a boot splashing through it to get to a fire escape ladder hanging from the side of a building. After climbing the six flights of stairs up the fire escape, Jason climbs in to his window of his home. Dropping the wet flannel shirt on the floor by the window, he goes to the bathroom. Standing in front of his mirror the room filling with steam from the shower, he reaches up with both hands and slowly takes off the blood-soaked mask, letting his hair fall free. Jason stares at himself in the mirror; through his blond hair that now drips with a crimson colored mixture of blood and rain. Looking at the four-inch scar that runs under his wife beater (under shirt) tears start to fall down his cheek. The mirror that now looks more like a slide show playing his memories for the world to see, takes him back to the last time he touched her. The ring of the telephone brings him back to the now, to the burning that keeps him from taking the pistol that he wears on his side and blowing out his fucking brains, a burning that keeps the path. “ Hello…. this is Jason ….yes I’ll be there in 30 to 45 minutes.” But didn’t they know he has been working all night? After walking back in to the bathroom Jason wipes some of the stem away from the mirror to start the slide show again.
Sitting on his bed looking at Maggie putt on one of his wife beaters on. “You look very nice” Jason says to her as he starts to get off the bed and walk over to her. “And I don’t have time for that “she says to him looking over her shoulder starting to pull up her pants. ”But baby, what do you mean” he says with his left hand on her hip and his right hand sliding up her stomach to her right breast. Kissing her on the back of her neck, sending chills down her back and making the hair on her arms stand on end. ”Jason this not getting me dressed any quicker”. “Well that’s the point sweetheart,” he says turning her around and kissing her on the lips pulling her closer to him. “No” the word flow out of his gut with such anger that he hits a tile on the wall, shattering it and cutting his knuckles. More blood circles the drain as he looks in the mirror “I can’t think about that … I must keep that for later when all my work is done” tears rolling down his face “ oh Maggie I am so sorry “ he says falling to the floor putting his head on his hands, slowly rocking, snot flowing freely in to his hands mingling with his tears. Not meny of us will ever fill a lose like this. Or be willing to give there self’s in such a way, because the nature of the beast means that you will have to give them up at some time, in a car wreck or of old age or getting shot in the back and left to die in a old building chocking on your own blood as the light fades to nothing but a pin point, earring your heart begin to slow and get more shallow with ever gurgling breath. Getting off the floor and still shacking Jason wipes the snot and tears from his face and gets in to the shower. Looking over his shoulder to the tattoo on his back and says ”I love you Maggie” then closes the shower certain.
With rain still running down his raincoat, Jason comes to the small apartment to see the crime scene that he was called to. A flash of light from a camera’s bulb, the shutter of another camera sliding shut and the sound of other cops asking questions and Jason knows that he is at the right place. The smell of blood and body fluid hangs in the air, wet and sticky like cotton candy on a little kids face. A body lies in the middle of the floor; blood pools congeal around the neck and from the chest. Wards whiten on the wall in blood still not dry because of the humidity in the air still drips down the wall. Cop walking around the room, dusting for prints, picking up clues with gloved hands and still more pictures. Looking over the room Jason sees his partner now kneeling over the victim checking his pockets looking for some clue to salve this murder. “So Alex what do we have tonight overdose… or did he fall on his fork or something” a smirk rolls over his face. “No you dick, we have dead cop. Officer Tom Whitehead, and by looking at the stab wounds in neck and chest, I think it’s the same guy who killed officer Cooper, and you know what that means” Alex says as she stands up. “Yap, no policemen’s ball for him or Mr. Cooper” Jason says as he turns to look at the wall.
“God you’re a dick. No, it means that we have a serial killer on are hands, and he likes to kill cops,” Alex says to him looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, it was a bad joke… look was he I. A. also?” Jason asks. “I think so, but I think he transferred out of I. A. about 4 weeks ago, now he’s in robbery homicide,” she answers running her hand trough her hair. Jason, looking at the walls again, walks over to a bookshelf and picks up a picture, then looks at Alex and says, “Did they know one another?” “That answer we will have to wait for,” she replies looking back to the stiff. “So do we have any other clues or just the stiff?” Jason asks, putting down the picture. “I got here just before you did, besides, what do you want me to do, wake him up so he can tell us what happened and who did it?” “Then this wouldn’t be a murder and I would be at washing my hands of all this, getting ready for bed,” he says, walking to the front door pulling out his cigarettes. “I’m going to ask some questions. I’ll be back.” Alex looking up says “ Hey, do you see any ashtrays around here?” Jason, looking around the room replies, “NO, why is this a no smoking room?” Laughing, Alex says, “No, no I just smell smoke.” Jason steps forward, pulls out his lighter and lights the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a big drag, then smiles and says “No, it’s me.” Alex, smiling then looking down says, “God you’re a dick.” “Alex you don’t have to be so formal, you can just call me Jason,” he says as he turns around and leaves the room.
well here we go. i hope you like it.
THECA OF ULTIONIS
This story should have started some time ago, back when she was first killed, back when love was lost and the first roots of revenge took hold. Oh, it didn’t start in revenge. Grief then loss, and then the bitterness and then finally anger, it grows to revenge and finally action. That is were this story starts; in the action of revenge.
It had been raining for days. The alley potholes were full, and a rainbow of oil that has been collecting for year’s dances on the water, which is illuminated by the only streetlight in the alley. It is momentarily disturbed by a boot splashing through it to get to a fire escape ladder hanging from the side of a building. After climbing the six flights of stairs up the fire escape, Jason climbs in to his window of his home. Dropping the wet flannel shirt on the floor by the window, he goes to the bathroom. Standing in front of his mirror the room filling with steam from the shower, he reaches up with both hands and slowly takes off the blood-soaked mask, letting his hair fall free. Jason stares at himself in the mirror; through his blond hair that now drips with a crimson colored mixture of blood and rain. Looking at the four-inch scar that runs under his wife beater (under shirt) tears start to fall down his cheek. The mirror that now looks more like a slide show playing his memories for the world to see, takes him back to the last time he touched her. The ring of the telephone brings him back to the now, to the burning that keeps him from taking the pistol that he wears on his side and blowing out his fucking brains, a burning that keeps the path. “ Hello…. this is Jason ….yes I’ll be there in 30 to 45 minutes.” But didn’t they know he has been working all night? After walking back in to the bathroom Jason wipes some of the stem away from the mirror to start the slide show again.
Sitting on his bed looking at Maggie putt on one of his wife beaters on. “You look very nice” Jason says to her as he starts to get off the bed and walk over to her. “And I don’t have time for that “she says to him looking over her shoulder starting to pull up her pants. ”But baby, what do you mean” he says with his left hand on her hip and his right hand sliding up her stomach to her right breast. Kissing her on the back of her neck, sending chills down her back and making the hair on her arms stand on end. ”Jason this not getting me dressed any quicker”. “Well that’s the point sweetheart,” he says turning her around and kissing her on the lips pulling her closer to him. “No” the word flow out of his gut with such anger that he hits a tile on the wall, shattering it and cutting his knuckles. More blood circles the drain as he looks in the mirror “I can’t think about that … I must keep that for later when all my work is done” tears rolling down his face “ oh Maggie I am so sorry “ he says falling to the floor putting his head on his hands, slowly rocking, snot flowing freely in to his hands mingling with his tears. Not meny of us will ever fill a lose like this. Or be willing to give there self’s in such a way, because the nature of the beast means that you will have to give them up at some time, in a car wreck or of old age or getting shot in the back and left to die in a old building chocking on your own blood as the light fades to nothing but a pin point, earring your heart begin to slow and get more shallow with ever gurgling breath. Getting off the floor and still shacking Jason wipes the snot and tears from his face and gets in to the shower. Looking over his shoulder to the tattoo on his back and says ”I love you Maggie” then closes the shower certain.
With rain still running down his raincoat, Jason comes to the small apartment to see the crime scene that he was called to. A flash of light from a camera’s bulb, the shutter of another camera sliding shut and the sound of other cops asking questions and Jason knows that he is at the right place. The smell of blood and body fluid hangs in the air, wet and sticky like cotton candy on a little kids face. A body lies in the middle of the floor; blood pools congeal around the neck and from the chest. Wards whiten on the wall in blood still not dry because of the humidity in the air still drips down the wall. Cop walking around the room, dusting for prints, picking up clues with gloved hands and still more pictures. Looking over the room Jason sees his partner now kneeling over the victim checking his pockets looking for some clue to salve this murder. “So Alex what do we have tonight overdose… or did he fall on his fork or something” a smirk rolls over his face. “No you dick, we have dead cop. Officer Tom Whitehead, and by looking at the stab wounds in neck and chest, I think it’s the same guy who killed officer Cooper, and you know what that means” Alex says as she stands up. “Yap, no policemen’s ball for him or Mr. Cooper” Jason says as he turns to look at the wall.
“God you’re a dick. No, it means that we have a serial killer on are hands, and he likes to kill cops,” Alex says to him looking over her shoulder. “Yeah, it was a bad joke… look was he I. A. also?” Jason asks. “I think so, but I think he transferred out of I. A. about 4 weeks ago, now he’s in robbery homicide,” she answers running her hand trough her hair. Jason, looking at the walls again, walks over to a bookshelf and picks up a picture, then looks at Alex and says, “Did they know one another?” “That answer we will have to wait for,” she replies looking back to the stiff. “So do we have any other clues or just the stiff?” Jason asks, putting down the picture. “I got here just before you did, besides, what do you want me to do, wake him up so he can tell us what happened and who did it?” “Then this wouldn’t be a murder and I would be at washing my hands of all this, getting ready for bed,” he says, walking to the front door pulling out his cigarettes. “I’m going to ask some questions. I’ll be back.” Alex looking up says “ Hey, do you see any ashtrays around here?” Jason, looking around the room replies, “NO, why is this a no smoking room?” Laughing, Alex says, “No, no I just smell smoke.” Jason steps forward, pulls out his lighter and lights the cigarette in his mouth. He takes a big drag, then smiles and says “No, it’s me.” Alex, smiling then looking down says, “God you’re a dick.” “Alex you don’t have to be so formal, you can just call me Jason,” he says as he turns around and leaves the room.