Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
So there is a bit more setup storyline than I originally envisioned. I hope you enjoy and stay tuned for future installments. As always please feel free to reply.
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Hi, my name is Ben. Let me tell you about my absolutely boring average life. It was the summer before my senior year in college. I had been working my ass off academically so my senior year would be complete by Christmas break.
Was that good enough for my Father? NO! I should learn the value of a dollar and a hard days work, so when I became a boss of others I would know what it's like.
My Father's friend runs a big contracting company. There was a planned hi rise going where for the last 200 years had been a block of old brick buildings. While inspecting them for demo they found long lost boarded up basements that stretched under the buildings. A historical society raised a fuss, and now they had to be cleaned, inspected and recorded for historical value.
My Father's friend was the contractor, and guess who got to spend his summer days 30 feet underground in old stinking, dirty basements. My job was to sweep out the different rooms, put a tag on Anything I found, leaving it as close to where I found it as I could, and record it for an expert to come look at.
I made crap, and the work Sucked. I was dirty. I stunk, and I looked like Casper the ghost. From 7AM to 4PM I was underground Monday-Friday.
I opened a door to another room and there was a metal framed bed in the corner. The bed was still made, but covered in decades of dust and dirt. Hanging from the headboard was a necklace with a ring on it.
I picked it up and looked at it. I hold the ring in my hand. It's covered in dirt and grime. I was about to tag it when the thought crossed my mind. "Just put it in my pocket and take it home."
Before I realized what I was doing I was putting the chain and the ring into my pocket. I still had it in my hand and the thought pops into my head. "It's ok no one will know."
I get home and I decide to put the necklace in a parts cleaner mix my Dad has in the garage. I take the necklace and ring in hand and head to the parts cleaner. I don't make it to the back door and I can't help but think this is a very bad idea. I turn instead to the kitchen sink and start to wash it.
As I stand there spraying and brushing it I have a feeling of relief. I am glad I didn't use the acid cleaner. I take the ring off the chain to clean it better. As I hold it in my hand I could have sworn earlier it was smaller, but now it looks like it will fit on my finger.
I slip it on and almost stumble back from the sink. I hear a woman's voice. "Oh thank goodness I have been alone for so long. You can hear me right. I haven't finally lost my mind and imagined this."
WTF!! "Who is there?" I start looking around the kitchen for the voice I heard.
"Don't look around the room. Look at your finger."
Wait, that isn't a voice in the room. It's in my head. I look down at the ring on my finger. The gem seems brighter than before, and it almost looks like there is a swirling mist in it.
"What? No this can't really be happening. I am dreaming. I must be asleep."
"You are not dreaming, Ben. I have been alone for years and years until you came along. Ben, I am The Ring. I have been passed down for generations."
I am freaking out. WTF is happening?? I am just staring at the ring, and listening to the voice in my head.
"The last ring bearer didn't use me wisely and was murdered when people thought he was using magic. They never had children so his wife wore me around her neck on a chain to remember him by. She didn't actually hold the ring or put it on her finger. I was never able to connect with her like I am with you now."
"Wait, what? She never held it or wore it? So what?" I say while staring at the ring on my finger.
"Ben the ring bearer must have a firm hold of the ring, like in a closed fist or be wearing it for me to communicate. When you picked up the ring earlier for a moment I thought I was dreaming. I was alone for so long. It felt like a lifetime."
"I don't believe this. I don't know what's going on but this sounds way too weird." I start to take the ring off.
"PLEASE BEN NO! Please don't leave me alone in silence again. PLEASE!" She pleads.
"Why should I believe you?" I ask.
Just then my Dad walks in the house. He barely glances my way. "If you are going to be yelling on the phone go to your room and close the door."
I can't help but think. "Jesus Dad. Just leave me alone."
I feel a warm tingling feel from the ring on my finger. Her voice in my head says rather happily. "Done."
My Dad turns back and says to me. "I am sorry Ben, I have had a long day. I will leave you alone." He turns and walks upstairs.
I am staring dumbfounded at my Dad as he walks away. "How the fuck did that happen?" I think to myself.
No sooner do I think the thought when I hear her voice in my head. "I did it of course."
"Wait a minute you can make people do things?"
"Yes Ben I can. All you have to do is ask, and I can make them do it. Well some things I can't. I can't make them kill or physically hurt themselves
"Wait, I have to test this. Is this thing really reading my mind?" I think while trying to think how to test it.
She laughs. "Of course I am reading your mind. You hear my voice in your head. I hear your thoughts too."
"Well I think I know the perfect test. Who was the last ringbearer, and when did he die? I want to check this out." I think.
"His name was George Stec. He came to America from Poland in 1851 as a child. He and his wife owned and lived in their tailor shop. He was killed in 1875."
My mind goes blank. 1851! 1875!
She senses my surprise. "Ben, what year is it?"
I am so blown away. I say out loud. "I gotta go!" I pull the ring off and drop it on the counter. I stare at it in awe. I watch the gem dim and the swirls disappear. I get paranoid. I pick up the ring and chain with a kitchen towel and head to my room.
It takes a little digging and time but I find one clue. That leads to a bigger clue, and another after that. Two plus hours later.
George and Mary Stec owned Stec's Tailoring Shop. Yes, George was killed in 1875. She died almost 50 years later in 1928. The Great Depression was happening then and I am guessing the shop got boarded up.
The historical society that started this mess has mention of a bookstore in the spot the Stec's shop was in from the mid 1930s until the early 2000s.
Jesus! Could this all be true? If it is. Was that thing really alone for 100 years, or did it just sleep? Wouldn't being alone for that long make you go nuts?
I pick up the ring and put it on. "Ben, I am so glad you came back. I am sorry if I upset you with my question earlier."
"You didn't upset me. I was concerned I would upset you with the answer." She interrupts me.
"Oh my. It 2021."
"Wait, did you read my mind?" I ask.
"Yes and no. We are linked. You think of something, and I see it if you will."
"NO Way!" I think.