-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
For the Love of Alicia
- Thread starter Wragg
- Start date
Alicia was looking up at me with a look of utter anguish upon her face, tears pouring down her cheeks. It’s hard to watch someone you love being treated the way I’d just been treated; harder still when you know it is just about to happen to you as well. And I’d done a bloody useless job of trying to pretend to her that it didn’t hurt.
“Alicia….” I gasped, through clenched teeth. “Alicia!”
“I LOVE YOU!” she shrieked, as they began to drag her towards her cross.
“In the name of the gods, have some humanity! You can’t do… this… to a girl like her! Please! Let her go!”
I was wasting my precious breath. They completely ignored me, as I’d known they would. I heard Marcellinus laughing.
She never once took her eyes from mine as they dragged her down onto her cross, as they pulled her arms outstretched and tied her down.
“ROMAN BASTARDS!!! LOOK AT YOU, YOU COWARDLY CUNTS! SIX OF YOU FOR ONE GIRL!”
That got me a whiplash across my belly, and it got Alicia nowhere.
Helpless, I saw that the spikes they were using on her slender wrists were the same as they’d used on me. Helpless, I watched the hammer rise.
“ALICIA!” The hammer crashed down. I saw the blood spray from the wound the nail made, and the sound she made was an unearthly howl of rage, terror, and dreadful, dreadful pain. I watched her body convulsing with each blow of the mallet, again and again it struck. I flinched with each strike, despite the pain it caused me. That one nail seemed to take forever to drive home. For me, this was almost worse than my own crucifixion.
Alicia was pleading for her life. “STOP! Please! Oh please! STOP! I cannot stand this! Please! Take it out! I’ll do anything, just….GET IT OUT!”
She wasn’t watching me any more. With horrified fascination she watched the Carnifex, as he stood up and crossed over to her other wrist. “No! Oh No… Oh no… Oh Please, no.. NOOOOOOOO!”
I felt the nails burning in my own wrists, my shoulders tearing in their sockets, my feet throbbing as my entire weight was taken by smashed and fractured bones. What could I say to her? I could hardly tell her that the worst was yet to come.
Time seems to pass more slowly. There seemed a lifetime between each strike of the hammer, as I watched my darling Alicia undergo this most appalling of tortures. I was screaming at them to stop, Alicia was, by now, just screaming in horror, protesting by violently shaking her head from side to side.
My feet had been nailed side by side, four times I had endured the invasion of my body by hard steel. For Alicia, they did it differently, for what reason I could not comprehend, but they placed her right foot over her left foot. She lifted her head and watched as they did it.
She knew what was coming, and was screaming even before the hammer struck, lighting fires in both her feet at the same time as the nail went straight through and into the wood. That fucking hammer rose and fell endlessly again, until they were satisfied that Alicia and her cross were one, and so it would remain until and beyond her death.
The sign: ‘ALICIA: REBELLATRIX IUDAORUM’ was hammered into place above her head, but that was the only respite she got before they started to raise her into position opposite my cross. Slowly it rose; they didn’t drop it, despite her panic-stricken writhings as her weight came onto the nails.
Neither did they spare her the jolt. I hadn’t realised, from my own crucifixion, quite how far it fell. One moment she seemed to be towering above me, the next, we were level with each other, and she was thrashing up and down with the sheer violence of the crash.
I gazed at her until she opened her eyes and gazed back. For a while we just looked at each other in silent misery. Then she said, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“There is no….way…..I could…..have borne…. this…. alone.”
Below me, Marcellinus gave a short bark of laughter. For me, the bitter pain of defeat was added to the pain of the cross.
Those fucking Romans had got their own way at last. I’d done my best to stop them, but now Alicia and Scaevola were crucified.
To be continued
IMAGES: Bobinder
“Alicia….” I gasped, through clenched teeth. “Alicia!”
“I LOVE YOU!” she shrieked, as they began to drag her towards her cross.
“In the name of the gods, have some humanity! You can’t do… this… to a girl like her! Please! Let her go!”
I was wasting my precious breath. They completely ignored me, as I’d known they would. I heard Marcellinus laughing.
She never once took her eyes from mine as they dragged her down onto her cross, as they pulled her arms outstretched and tied her down.
“ROMAN BASTARDS!!! LOOK AT YOU, YOU COWARDLY CUNTS! SIX OF YOU FOR ONE GIRL!”
That got me a whiplash across my belly, and it got Alicia nowhere.
Helpless, I saw that the spikes they were using on her slender wrists were the same as they’d used on me. Helpless, I watched the hammer rise.
“ALICIA!” The hammer crashed down. I saw the blood spray from the wound the nail made, and the sound she made was an unearthly howl of rage, terror, and dreadful, dreadful pain. I watched her body convulsing with each blow of the mallet, again and again it struck. I flinched with each strike, despite the pain it caused me. That one nail seemed to take forever to drive home. For me, this was almost worse than my own crucifixion.
Alicia was pleading for her life. “STOP! Please! Oh please! STOP! I cannot stand this! Please! Take it out! I’ll do anything, just….GET IT OUT!”
She wasn’t watching me any more. With horrified fascination she watched the Carnifex, as he stood up and crossed over to her other wrist. “No! Oh No… Oh no… Oh Please, no.. NOOOOOOOO!”
I felt the nails burning in my own wrists, my shoulders tearing in their sockets, my feet throbbing as my entire weight was taken by smashed and fractured bones. What could I say to her? I could hardly tell her that the worst was yet to come.
Time seems to pass more slowly. There seemed a lifetime between each strike of the hammer, as I watched my darling Alicia undergo this most appalling of tortures. I was screaming at them to stop, Alicia was, by now, just screaming in horror, protesting by violently shaking her head from side to side.
My feet had been nailed side by side, four times I had endured the invasion of my body by hard steel. For Alicia, they did it differently, for what reason I could not comprehend, but they placed her right foot over her left foot. She lifted her head and watched as they did it.
She knew what was coming, and was screaming even before the hammer struck, lighting fires in both her feet at the same time as the nail went straight through and into the wood. That fucking hammer rose and fell endlessly again, until they were satisfied that Alicia and her cross were one, and so it would remain until and beyond her death.
The sign: ‘ALICIA: REBELLATRIX IUDAORUM’ was hammered into place above her head, but that was the only respite she got before they started to raise her into position opposite my cross. Slowly it rose; they didn’t drop it, despite her panic-stricken writhings as her weight came onto the nails.
Neither did they spare her the jolt. I hadn’t realised, from my own crucifixion, quite how far it fell. One moment she seemed to be towering above me, the next, we were level with each other, and she was thrashing up and down with the sheer violence of the crash.
I gazed at her until she opened her eyes and gazed back. For a while we just looked at each other in silent misery. Then she said, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“There is no….way…..I could…..have borne…. this…. alone.”
Below me, Marcellinus gave a short bark of laughter. For me, the bitter pain of defeat was added to the pain of the cross.
Those fucking Romans had got their own way at last. I’d done my best to stop them, but now Alicia and Scaevola were crucified.
To be continued
IMAGES: Bobinder
Last edited:
One must give Wragg a tip of the straw hat!!!
D
Debbie30
Guest
WOW , stirs so many feelings within me
I might add a few things - I couldn't before because I was on a mobile using wifi, and I had to run to get a bus, so I didn't have much time to add words at the time.
This part simply sent shivers down my spine. You manage to portray not only the horror that Alicia might have, but also the emotional impact on Scaevola because of his love for her, and the anguish that causes him. For me, that's what raises this high above a simple descriptive crux event. You make us feel the pain. Tremendous chapter. I've just read it again and it's just as good the second time, although the horror aspect was perhaps worse when I knew what was coming. Now I know how Scaevola felt watching Alicia being crucified.
bobinder
ARTISAN
That is certainly an intense narrative to go with my pictures - it really brings out the horror of the experience!
A very emotional and convincing instalment - well done!
I thought about what she’d said. She was right, the only good thing about this hell we were going through was that we were going through it together. I simply could not imagine going through this alone, and my heart went out to the countless thousands who had done so.
And, if I hadn’t intervened, she would have died here alone and unloved.
But I should have been in the tavern. I looked down at Manius and Tullius, who were at least doing me the honour of looking concerned.
“Fuck, Scaevola,” said Manius, “The lengths you’ll go to to get out of buying your round!”
I heard a noise from opposite, and I looked up, surprised. He’d made Alicia laugh. It rapidly turned into a scream – when you’ve been crucified it hurts to laugh – but I was pleased that I’d heard her laugh again. I looked back down at Manius.
“It….was my only option, mate. You…..were drinking me into the gutter!”
I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to keep up this banter with them. Even that speech had worn me out. I hung on my outstretched arms, rested my head back against the cross, and watched Alicia as she struggled to find the least painful position. I saw the pain etched into her face as she pushed up, with all her weight on the single nail through her crippled feet.
You feel that there must be a place where your weight, and hence the pain, is balanced equally on all the nails. I hadn’t found it yet, but I was grimly aware that I had plenty of time ahead of me to try.
She turned her head, and looked at the nail in her right wrist, anguished disbelief in her face. “Scaevola!” she cried.
“What, Alicia?”
“How….can I stop it hurting….so much?”
“I wish I knew….”
Eventually she reached a position that she felt might offer infinitesimally less agony than any other, and she stayed like that for a minute or so, gasping for breath.
I realised , as she struggled, that the cross had made her look even more desirable than ever. Her breasts, which I considered to be terrific, and had told her so, were sculpted by her outstretched arms into absolute perfection. Her slim, muscular body was displayed to significant advantage against the rough wood of the cross, and now, moving carefully to avoid jarring her wounds, she was as graceful as a dancer. I just wanted to possess her, to hold her once more in my arms. The fact that I never would again was as painful as any of the nails.
“Manius, we must try this crucifixion idea. Look! He’s really enjoying it.”
Watching the crucified Alicia had given me an erection. How could I get an erection on a cross? And now I was conscious of it, of my own nudity, of everyone looking at me, including Alicia. That just made things worse, and my penis swelled to full size.
Alicia stared at me, slightly surprised. “Scaevola?”
“It’s…. the effect you have on me, Alicia.”
“Even though… you’re on a cross?”
I felt the seminal fluid dribbling down my phallus. “While I’m alive….. I shall love you.”
“Even though….. I’m on a cross?” She glanced down at her crucified body. “I must look horrible!”
“Trust me, Alicia, you do not look horrible. You look gorgeous. I think I could rip these nails out and come and get you!”
Like the pillock that I am, I tried. I actually clenched my right fist against the cross and used it as a lever to try to wrench the nail out of the wood. Let’s just say that I discovered, to my cost, just how firmly the Romans drive nails into crosses during crucifixion.
When I’d finished screaming, she sucked some air into her lungs. “I take it… we’re staying up here?”
“Sorry. Oh, Alicia, I am so sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry. You did your best.”
“I promised you! I promised you I wouldn’t let them crucify you! Now look at you! Look at us! I’ve let you down!”
“No. It’s me that should be sorry! I picked up a piece of wood and hit my bastard of a master on his head. I knew, at that very moment, that I would die on a cross. I knew the penalty. Even then, I thought it a price worth paying to be rid of the shit. But you gave me an extra day of life, and it was a wonderful day. You gave me the love that I have never had. But look what it has cost you!”
“Believe me, Alicia. I would do the same thing all over again. You made it all worth it.”
Once again, she made my dreams come true. Nailed to her cross, in utter agony, nevertheless her face lit up in a smile of such radiance that at that moment I felt no pain at all. Only the deepest love.
The cross, the pain, her smile, her words. I was overwhelmed by that bittersweet moment. If only we could have met in another time, another place, another world. A world in which there were no masters who sexually abused their slaves to a point where they would endure crucifixion in preference to yet another rape. A world in which people settled their differences by talking rather than through violence. A world in which there were no Romans who thought it right to strip people naked, smash nails through their wrists and feet into wooden crosses, and then stand them up to die a lingering, humiliating death in front of jeering spectators, just to exert their idea of ‘justice’.
But, for twenty-four hours, Alicia and I had made that world for ourselves. It could not last, of course it couldn’t. But in that one day we had been free enough to enjoy love, to choose to defend ourselves, to make our own decisions. We had met people like Jollyrei and Bobinder, good men who were guilty of nothing more than defending their own harmless way of life.
Twenty-four hours, filled with love and laughter. Twenty four hours of living life, rather than merely existing. And so, on my cross for hour after agonising hour, fighting the crippling torture of those terrible nails, and watching and waiting with Alicia as our life-blood slowly trickled out of our veins, I could be certain of one thing.
It had all been worth while.
For the love of Alicia.
IMAGES: Bobinder
And, if I hadn’t intervened, she would have died here alone and unloved.
But I should have been in the tavern. I looked down at Manius and Tullius, who were at least doing me the honour of looking concerned.
“Fuck, Scaevola,” said Manius, “The lengths you’ll go to to get out of buying your round!”
I heard a noise from opposite, and I looked up, surprised. He’d made Alicia laugh. It rapidly turned into a scream – when you’ve been crucified it hurts to laugh – but I was pleased that I’d heard her laugh again. I looked back down at Manius.
“It….was my only option, mate. You…..were drinking me into the gutter!”
I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to keep up this banter with them. Even that speech had worn me out. I hung on my outstretched arms, rested my head back against the cross, and watched Alicia as she struggled to find the least painful position. I saw the pain etched into her face as she pushed up, with all her weight on the single nail through her crippled feet.
You feel that there must be a place where your weight, and hence the pain, is balanced equally on all the nails. I hadn’t found it yet, but I was grimly aware that I had plenty of time ahead of me to try.
She turned her head, and looked at the nail in her right wrist, anguished disbelief in her face. “Scaevola!” she cried.
“What, Alicia?”
“How….can I stop it hurting….so much?”
“I wish I knew….”
Eventually she reached a position that she felt might offer infinitesimally less agony than any other, and she stayed like that for a minute or so, gasping for breath.
I realised , as she struggled, that the cross had made her look even more desirable than ever. Her breasts, which I considered to be terrific, and had told her so, were sculpted by her outstretched arms into absolute perfection. Her slim, muscular body was displayed to significant advantage against the rough wood of the cross, and now, moving carefully to avoid jarring her wounds, she was as graceful as a dancer. I just wanted to possess her, to hold her once more in my arms. The fact that I never would again was as painful as any of the nails.
“Manius, we must try this crucifixion idea. Look! He’s really enjoying it.”
Watching the crucified Alicia had given me an erection. How could I get an erection on a cross? And now I was conscious of it, of my own nudity, of everyone looking at me, including Alicia. That just made things worse, and my penis swelled to full size.
Alicia stared at me, slightly surprised. “Scaevola?”
“It’s…. the effect you have on me, Alicia.”
“Even though… you’re on a cross?”
I felt the seminal fluid dribbling down my phallus. “While I’m alive….. I shall love you.”
“Even though….. I’m on a cross?” She glanced down at her crucified body. “I must look horrible!”
“Trust me, Alicia, you do not look horrible. You look gorgeous. I think I could rip these nails out and come and get you!”
Like the pillock that I am, I tried. I actually clenched my right fist against the cross and used it as a lever to try to wrench the nail out of the wood. Let’s just say that I discovered, to my cost, just how firmly the Romans drive nails into crosses during crucifixion.
When I’d finished screaming, she sucked some air into her lungs. “I take it… we’re staying up here?”
“Sorry. Oh, Alicia, I am so sorry!”
“Don’t be sorry. You did your best.”
“I promised you! I promised you I wouldn’t let them crucify you! Now look at you! Look at us! I’ve let you down!”
“No. It’s me that should be sorry! I picked up a piece of wood and hit my bastard of a master on his head. I knew, at that very moment, that I would die on a cross. I knew the penalty. Even then, I thought it a price worth paying to be rid of the shit. But you gave me an extra day of life, and it was a wonderful day. You gave me the love that I have never had. But look what it has cost you!”
“Believe me, Alicia. I would do the same thing all over again. You made it all worth it.”
Once again, she made my dreams come true. Nailed to her cross, in utter agony, nevertheless her face lit up in a smile of such radiance that at that moment I felt no pain at all. Only the deepest love.
The cross, the pain, her smile, her words. I was overwhelmed by that bittersweet moment. If only we could have met in another time, another place, another world. A world in which there were no masters who sexually abused their slaves to a point where they would endure crucifixion in preference to yet another rape. A world in which people settled their differences by talking rather than through violence. A world in which there were no Romans who thought it right to strip people naked, smash nails through their wrists and feet into wooden crosses, and then stand them up to die a lingering, humiliating death in front of jeering spectators, just to exert their idea of ‘justice’.
But, for twenty-four hours, Alicia and I had made that world for ourselves. It could not last, of course it couldn’t. But in that one day we had been free enough to enjoy love, to choose to defend ourselves, to make our own decisions. We had met people like Jollyrei and Bobinder, good men who were guilty of nothing more than defending their own harmless way of life.
Twenty-four hours, filled with love and laughter. Twenty four hours of living life, rather than merely existing. And so, on my cross for hour after agonising hour, fighting the crippling torture of those terrible nails, and watching and waiting with Alicia as our life-blood slowly trickled out of our veins, I could be certain of one thing.
It had all been worth while.
For the love of Alicia.
IMAGES: Bobinder
“Nanna, please may I go outside and play with Jake?”
Wragg smiled at the child. Even at the age of five she was well mannered enough to wait for Scaevola to finish telling his story. He’d not noticed her, he’d wondered why Scaevola had whispered the bit about the erection.
“Yes, of course, darling!” Alicia also smiled indulgently at her grand daughter, “Only, do please keep out of the mud, or your mother will skin me alive!”
Wragg wondered how Alicia could even contemplate such a thing, after what she had been through. Even in her sixties, although her hair was grey and her skin wrinkled, she still looked radiant when she smiled. He had no problem believing that Scaevola had experienced love at first sight. Though the crippling effects of her crucifixion were still plain to see, and she could barely use her wrists and hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Scaevola. “My memories end there. The next thing I clearly remember is old Bobinder stomping about saying, ‘I’m a warrior, not a doctor!’”
“Well, I’m very grateful to you, anyway, Scaevola.” Wragg made a few more notes on his parchment, and then rolled it up. “ It’s not often that I come across someone who has been crucified and has lived to tell the tale. It’s a good story.”
“I remember,” said Alicia. “I remember every last detail…..
All day and all night we hung on those crosses. It was summer, and the nights were short, but there is no such thing as a short night on a cross. I saw the first glimmer of dawn, and I knew that I would never see another. I knew I was fading. Scaevola was slumped on his cross.
“Scaevola….you bastard….. how could you die and leave me here alone?” I gasped.
But I could smell burning. I could hear screams, and swords clanging! It was agony, but I turned my head, and I saw that the whole city was on fire!
From somewhere, God knows where, I found the strength to push up and scream. “HELP! We’re out here!” Then I saw Scaevola stir slightly, and I knew that he wasn’t quite dead.
Oh, God, I prayed (yes, I really am Jewish), Oh God, please let them come quick.
They didn’t come quick, at least it didn’t seem so to me. The movement and the disturbance had opened up the wounds, I was sure I would bleed to death before I could be rescued.
But then, all of a sudden, there he was. My wonderful, wonderful brother, Bobinder. And Jollyrei. And lots and lots of soldiers, not one of them Roman.
“Bob…where the….fuck…..have you been?”
“Shush Alicia, don’t exhaust yourself any more. You can leave it to us now! Come on, you lazy gits! Get these crosses down! You! Fetch a cart! On the double!”
I wish I could forget, but being taken down from a cross is nearly as bad as being put up on one. I wondered, as I was jolted around, as the nails were wrenched out of the wood and through my infected, inflamed wounds, whether it might not have been better to have died up there.
It took us a long time to recover, and, as you see, we are still disabled. But I’ve had five children, and I can tell you that childbirth is a doddle after crucifixion!”
Wragg smiled. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to crucify all potential mothers to be.”
“No,” she agreed, “perhaps not.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, though,” said Scaevola. “When I was on that cross, I felt that my life had been worthwhile, just for twenty four hours with this wonderful woman.” He reached out his hand, and she took it, still stiffly, her joints clearly inflamed and arthritic, but so tenderly. “Now we have been together over forty years, and I still count myself the luckiest man on earth, for the love of Alicia!”
The End
Wragg smiled at the child. Even at the age of five she was well mannered enough to wait for Scaevola to finish telling his story. He’d not noticed her, he’d wondered why Scaevola had whispered the bit about the erection.
“Yes, of course, darling!” Alicia also smiled indulgently at her grand daughter, “Only, do please keep out of the mud, or your mother will skin me alive!”
Wragg wondered how Alicia could even contemplate such a thing, after what she had been through. Even in her sixties, although her hair was grey and her skin wrinkled, she still looked radiant when she smiled. He had no problem believing that Scaevola had experienced love at first sight. Though the crippling effects of her crucifixion were still plain to see, and she could barely use her wrists and hands.
“I’m sorry,” said Scaevola. “My memories end there. The next thing I clearly remember is old Bobinder stomping about saying, ‘I’m a warrior, not a doctor!’”
“Well, I’m very grateful to you, anyway, Scaevola.” Wragg made a few more notes on his parchment, and then rolled it up. “ It’s not often that I come across someone who has been crucified and has lived to tell the tale. It’s a good story.”
“I remember,” said Alicia. “I remember every last detail…..
All day and all night we hung on those crosses. It was summer, and the nights were short, but there is no such thing as a short night on a cross. I saw the first glimmer of dawn, and I knew that I would never see another. I knew I was fading. Scaevola was slumped on his cross.
“Scaevola….you bastard….. how could you die and leave me here alone?” I gasped.
But I could smell burning. I could hear screams, and swords clanging! It was agony, but I turned my head, and I saw that the whole city was on fire!
From somewhere, God knows where, I found the strength to push up and scream. “HELP! We’re out here!” Then I saw Scaevola stir slightly, and I knew that he wasn’t quite dead.
Oh, God, I prayed (yes, I really am Jewish), Oh God, please let them come quick.
They didn’t come quick, at least it didn’t seem so to me. The movement and the disturbance had opened up the wounds, I was sure I would bleed to death before I could be rescued.
But then, all of a sudden, there he was. My wonderful, wonderful brother, Bobinder. And Jollyrei. And lots and lots of soldiers, not one of them Roman.
“Bob…where the….fuck…..have you been?”
“Shush Alicia, don’t exhaust yourself any more. You can leave it to us now! Come on, you lazy gits! Get these crosses down! You! Fetch a cart! On the double!”
I wish I could forget, but being taken down from a cross is nearly as bad as being put up on one. I wondered, as I was jolted around, as the nails were wrenched out of the wood and through my infected, inflamed wounds, whether it might not have been better to have died up there.
It took us a long time to recover, and, as you see, we are still disabled. But I’ve had five children, and I can tell you that childbirth is a doddle after crucifixion!”
Wragg smiled. “Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to crucify all potential mothers to be.”
“No,” she agreed, “perhaps not.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, though,” said Scaevola. “When I was on that cross, I felt that my life had been worthwhile, just for twenty four hours with this wonderful woman.” He reached out his hand, and she took it, still stiffly, her joints clearly inflamed and arthritic, but so tenderly. “Now we have been together over forty years, and I still count myself the luckiest man on earth, for the love of Alicia!”
The End
Last edited:
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Wow, Wragg, what an ending!
Finishing the penultimate chapter with
the title of the piece, felt like a natural end of the story, maybe an epilog of discarded bodies. But to suddenly shift to grandchild just like that----brilliant.
Finishing the penultimate chapter with
the title of the piece, felt like a natural end of the story, maybe an epilog of discarded bodies. But to suddenly shift to grandchild just like that----brilliant.
Thank you, Old Slave, that's very kind.
Bob and Madi will tell you that I have agonised over whether to kill off Alicia or not. But in fact, if I had, it would have left us wondering about Jollyrei. Did the Romans get him anyway? Did he just sit and twiddle his thumbs, thanking his lucky stars that those nasty Romans had taken Scaevola and Alicia off his hands and left him in peace? That's not the Jollyrei I know, and, anyway, Bob would have split his gizzard....
And in any case, how could Scaevola tell us his story if he was dead?
Clearly, Bobinder was the inspiration behind this story, and, while I don't want this to sound like a pompous speech at the Academy Awards, I would like to thank him and Madiosi in particular and the crux artists in general for the way that they publish these incredible pictures which set my creative juices (among others
) flowing!This one
is a Crux Classic, and has received much well-deserved applause, but I don't believe that poor Alicia has ever featured in a story of her own (Madi will set me right if I'm wrong there....). Anyway, I've never written one.
But looking at that picture, which I have done an awful lot, it began to occur to me, who is looking at Alicia? The point of view is on a level with her and almost directly opposite. These days, the camera might be on a cherry picker, but I think those were thin on the ground in Roman times. So I think that the most probable scenario would be that the observer must be on a cross of his or her own.
Enter Scaevola. The next problem is that Alicia deserves so much more than a quick plod to her golgotha; bam, bam, sorry ma'am from the carnifex, and up she goes. But I didn't really want too much of the poor innocent condemned by the Romans kind of a line; at the point where we meet her she's already committed 'justifiable' murder, and been condemned, so we don't leave her worse than we found her, and then we spend a little while getting to know her before the wheels of Roman rule grind her and Scaevola down and we can finally get her to where Bob originally depicted her.
Anyhow, it was one of those stories that was a bee in my bonnet, I'm really pleased to have got it down on paper, and, if anyone else has enjoyed it, that's a bonus!
Last edited:
windar
Teller of Tales
Wragg, you had me worried, but you came through and the SWAT team really did show up at the end. Although Bob's medical skills were probably of some value after the two lovers came down from the cross, I like him a s a warrior, not a doctor. And I learned two new words, "pillock" and "doddle". We're still not quite in the world of your grand speech, but hopefully we've made a bit of progress in that direction. Nicely done from this non-crux devotee...
D
Debbie30
Guest
And me..
I think your avatar is a Bobinder, no?
Yes my avatar was done by him . He did a great job.
An excellent tale, Wragg!!!
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
Twenty-four hours, filled with love and laughter. Twenty four hours of living life, rather than merely existing. And so, on my cross for hour after agonising hour, fighting the crippling torture of those terrible nails, and watching and waiting with Alicia as our life-blood slowly trickled out of our veins, I could be certain of one thing.
It had all been worth while.
For the love of Alicia.
DOUBLE AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW
TEARS IN MY EYES!
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
It's a doddle to confuse a pillock. Not that any esteemed member here is one of the latter.
xso
Tribune
A romantic crucifixion story with a happy ending, what a twist! Thank's for this great tale!