I've taken a brief break from writing Action, Reaction and Consequences to put this short story together that's kicked around my mind for a while. It was fairly "there" in my mind drawing on many stories and films such as "A Christmas Carol" or "Scrooged" until I read
Guilty Until Proven Innocent
recently by other2other1. I've taken some inspiration from his story to enrichen the main character further than originally intended in this short tale.
Unlike my other stories there is little in the way of sex, it doesn't need the graphic descriptions I usually chose to embed within my works.
If you are offended by fiction that portrays Religion as something it's possible not please skip this story as I would not want to knowingly upset anyone. There are two references to religion if you do read on, I sincerely mean no offense it is, simply, a work of fiction.
It's also a struggle on how this should be categorised. I could have gone down the path of Loving Wives, Incest/Taboo, Sci-fi & Fantasy or Non Consent/Reluctance but opted for Non Human. If you don't think that's where it should be just imagine it's under the genre where you think it belongs
I hope you enjoy!
<<<<A Flaming Christmas>>>>
Terry Hand stood soaked to the skin, body swaying precariously as he stood on the parapet of the disused viaduct. Far below in the darkness the odd wisp of white foam was barely visible as the rapidly moving River Don snaked towards Doncaster.
In the darkness the snow fell, it had been falling for over an hour now and deadened the sound of the river flowing two hundred feet below. The only sound was of the cheap whisky sloshing as Terry took large gulps straight for the bottle. Terry laughed to himself. He didn't even like whisky but it was stacked near the door of the supermarket as a Christmas special offer when Terry ran in and out swiping it before the security guard had noticed him.
And nobody noticed Terry, he was lower than a piece of shit on the shoppers shoes as he sat all day on the cold ground against the wall of the supermarket repeating 'Merry Christmas' over and over again to everyone that passed him by in the hope that they would do the Christian thing of throw him some change so he could buy something to eat and drink.
After eight hours he had two cigarette butts, some discarded chewing gum, a half empty cola tin that had been thrown at him along with two pound eighty pence. Being Christmas eve, the shops would be closed for two days so the opportunity to beg would be out of the window.
After the store closed Terry shuffled through the streets to a small convenience store that was open until late. Using the two pounds eighty he'd managed to beg for earlier he brought a sausage roll plus a bottle of water before sitting outside with his small begging tin. With hope all but gone for salvation he couldn't even be bothered to look up at the people that ebbed and flowed in and out of the shop. As he finished the sausage roll he dropped the wrapper on the pavement and the slight breeze started to roll it away.
A middle-aged couple stopped as they were passing him. The man barked at Terry.
"Oi, go pick up your trash!"
"Don't think so, you seem to discard things all to easy and leave them to their own devices, left uncared for. Don't see why I shouldn't just do the same as the rest of you."
"You cheeky fuckwit!" The man promptly lifted his leg and stamped it against Terry's chest driving the wind from his lungs.
"Terry laughed to himself - the idiot didn't realise that he was referring to human kind that had discarded people like him not caring if he lived or died. How hypercritical to think more of a food wrapper than a human life.
When the shop closed, he staggered the three miles to the viaduct at Conisborugh in his leaky well-worn trainers, jeans and hoodie. He was brought up around here and had lived in the area until eight years ago so knew the area well. As far as he was aware he still had family locally although, as far as they were concerned, he no longer existed. He laughed, and shouted out at the night sky:
"In a few minutes you're all gonna get your Christmas present just like you wanted.........sorry...what's that?...me...me....what would I like?....I want your whole fucking world to burn for what you've done to me!"
Taking another large couple of gulps from the nearly empty whisky bottle tears streamed down his face as his imaginary conversation with his entire family played out. Unsure if it was the cold or the fact he had simple given up the whisky bottle span downwards out of his hand, a faint sound echoing back up as it shattered where it bounced off part of the viaduct towards to the bottom. What did he care? He stood alone, a threadbare sweatshirt, worn jeans and trainers with holes in the soles. A grey unkept beard matched the matted greasy hair uncut for so many months, partially hiding a dirty face that had long passed the look of despair.
Looking at his hands he noticed they were blue from the cold as the remainder of him shivered uncontrollably. Perhaps death would bring him some form of warmth. He hoped so.
He closed his eyes, put his arms out horizontal like an Olympic diver would then started to fall forward in a final act that would signify his inevitable end.
A few seconds later he started to feel warmth radiating into his body, was he dead, did his mind blank out during the fall? Did at his bitter end his brain go blank to spare him the milli-seconds of pain he'd felt as he crashed into the icy cold water? Opening his eyes slowly he prayed that if there was a heaven and hell he had gone up and not down. He didn't trust God, if there really was one, not to pull one last stunt with his soul.
To his amazement he was still on the parapet over the river but something was wrong. His body was far enough into the fall that gravity should have taken him but for some bizarre reason he was stuck at this angle. Looking down it was literally the tips of his toes that were still touching the parapet top. But if that was strange something else was stranger. The snow had literally stopped. Not as in falling but stuck in the air as if the thousands of snowflakes were frozen in time. He chuckled at the thought frozen... snow was tiny drops of frozen water... but they normally didn't stay suspended motionless.
The warmth he felt had quickly seeped through his body and oddly where he had been drunk his mind, was suddenly clear and full of clarity. There was something esle that he was becoming aware of, a feeling he was no longer alone. Glancing at the area of his body that had been the initial source of the warmth radiating in from his left side there was a hand touching him. A dainty, beautiful hand. His eyes followed the hand which was attached to an arm, which was attached to a body. A very naked female body. He laughed to himself then spoke to the imaginary being next to him.
"If I would have known death would have a woman as beautiful as you touch me, I would have done this sooner! "
The woman smiled at him. He guessed this illusion had been manufactured by his dying consciousness as she was to all intents and purpose what he would consider the woman of his dreams. Looking to be in her mid-twenties at somewhere around five foot and a bit she stood with long wavy black hair cascaded below her neckline with an almost pixie like face. Taunt thin lips coloured a blood red smiled at him as large almond eyes looked back at him. Her body shape was perfect; not thin but not fat with sensuous curves that only a woman's body is able to portray.
The only thing that seemed wrong was a feint bluish aura around her. Of course, that's outside the fact that other than being beautiful and naked she was suspended at the gravity defying angle next to him.
"Who are you?"
Ah yes, I forgot you use....names...names for each being? If that's the case name me."
