Good Hearted Ch. 03

"Do you mind if I give it a try?" Ethan asked.

"Sure, give it a go," replied a teen with long stringy brown hair and dirty clothes. "But it's not as easy as it looks. If you get hurt, don't expect us to stick around."

"Fair enough," answered Ethan with a chuckle. He backed up like and took six strides toward the pillar. He lifted his right leg and stepped up the pillar, swinging his left leg up toward his chest. He could feel the rotation and when it felt right, he extended both feet and landed cleanly.

"You are putting us on, man," protested the stringy haired acrobat. "You've done this before."

"No," Ethan smiled. "First time, I swear. But I am a quick learner and you guys made it look easy."

"Care to play a little game of follow-the-leader, we call it Chase the Traceur. It can get a little dicey, so it's ok to bail if you get in over your head. We may not look like it, but we take safety seriously. Parkour is about getting away from trouble, not getting into trouble."

"Sounds good. What do I do?"

"Follow along, try to do what we do, don't get hurt."

"Let's do it!" barked Ethan.

Stringy hair took off across the park, leaping over objects and either landing on his feet or doing flip and landing in a tuck and roll. Toward the center of the park was a playground complex with towers and bars, swings and slides. They parkoured over and through every apparatus, using various techniques. Ethan kept up well, gaining confidence with each new movement. Finally the leader pulled up, breathing heavily, hands on his knees.

"Now I know you are taking a piss. Nobody parkours like that their first time." Ethan smiled brightly and shrugged.

"Do mind if I try to lead for a while?" he asked.

Stringy hair swept his hand toward the open park, the international sign for 'after you.' Ethan took off on a run, taking two strides up a tree and flipping over sideways, landing on his feet, changing direction toward the small lake in the north end or the park. There were wooden posts, each a foot in diameter, that ran along the edge of the lake. Ethan danced atop these posts, doing flips and cartwheels on each. At the end of the posts was cement pillar that Ethan vaulted easily, landing lightly in a crouch. To his left was the boat house, where visitors could rent kayaks and paddle boats. To his right was the long fishing pier. Straight across was another cement pillar, the twin to the one he had vaulted. He took two strides, placed his right foot halfway up the corner of the pillar and leapt sideways, doing a legs together flip onto the roof of the boat house. The remaining parkour chasers piled up between the pillars, looking up in awe.

"Dude, that was sick! You didn't just DO that!" said stringy-hair, echoing the sentiments of the rest of the crew. "Nobody can do that. Nobody." The chasers put their heads together. "Do you think you'd want to come with us down to the Edges on Friday night? We get together for a free-running combat, you know, just a bunch of guys from all over the city. We take turns setting up routes and moves and the other teams try to mimic the moves and get a better time. You are a natural."

"Friday night?" smiled Ethan. "Yeah, I can do Friday night. I'm busy until after 7. What time do you usually start?"

They all looked at each other and grinned. "After 7. What's your name, dude?"

"Ethan. Ethan Rome."

"Romeo!" they all shouted in unison. At eighteen years old, it was the first time anyone had called him Romeo. It made Ethan smile. "This is Duck," said stringy hair. "This is Special Ed, Trips, and Dollar. They call me Salty." Ethan dropped from the roof to the ground, landing with hardly as sound. Ethan shook hands with each by clasping the other young man on the wrist, in the ancient style.

"I can't tell you how much fun I've had tonight, but I have to jet. I'll see you guys Friday night. Stay safe!" With that Ethan took off at a run, roughly back to the same park entrance he came in through. This time he was free running, leaping off of obstacles and flipping off of trees. He felt like he was flying as he leapt and flipped and spun.

Back on the street, he resumed his run, looping back towards his home, several miles distant. As he descended a low hill into a darker part of town, he felt a sense of dread. For a few moments, he considered changing course, running a more familiar and well-traveled route home. But something in the darkness compelled him forward. He drew even with a burnt-out shell of a building. Inside something sinister was happening. Ethan slipped around the side of the building, looking and listening for some clue of what it might be.

Near the back of the building, he saw the flickering glow of a fire. He heard drunken voices shouting and heard the muffled screams of a girl and the groans of a guy. He moved to a place where he could see what was going on. He could see the girl. She was stripped to the waist, her clothing in tatters. The boy was naked from the waist down, bent over a stack of pallets, his armed stretched out in front of him and held by two gang members. Behind him another gang member was preparing to insert a wine bottle into his ass. He was groaning and struggling, his face showing guts and bruises.

"After we get done taking turns fucking your cherry ass," growled the gang leader, a large black man with scars up both of his arms, "we are going to use your girlfriend as our little fuck-toy and let you watch. If either one of you fails to put out like we want, then we are going to cut your balls off and let you choke on them while you bleed out. Got it, Cunt Boy?" The trapped boy said nothing, the girl screamed. Black rage came from deep inside Ethan. He climbed through the window, not afraid of being detected. He walked directly over to the group of rapists. There were eleven grown men standing around in the dim light.

"Looky here!" shouted one of them. "We got another one who wants hisself a turn!" Two of them grabbed Ethan by the arms, but he didn't struggle. His eyes were locked on the man with the wine bottle.

"I'll count to one, and then I am going to send each and every one of you mother fuckers back to the hell that spawned you. Except you, wine bottle. I am going to shove that wine bottle so far up YOUR ass, you will scream for death."

The group of attackers didn't have time to laugh at the teenager who threatened them. Ethan counted. "One."

The boy bent over the pallets didn't see a thing. His date didn't see a thing either, she had her eyes firmly shut, praying for deliverance. Ethan moved through the attackers with deadly determination, feeling no compunction at all as he broke arms, legs, necks. He left the man holding the bottle for last. The man's eyes reflected his terror. He tried to drop the bottle, but Ethan caught it with a flash of his hand. Ethan swept his leg out dropping the man face down on the ash and broken glass on the floor. Ethan ripped the man's pants off as if they were paper. He began to shove the bottle into the rapist's ass, fat end first.

"Oh God NO! Take it out! Please, oh God it hurts. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

Ethan leaned over and whispered in the man's ear. "You've done a lot of evil things, haven't you? Raped little girls. Raped little boys. Choked your victims to death, and then pissed on their dead bodies. The time you spent in prison didn't begin to pay for your crimes. It's time to balance your scale." Ethan pulled the bottle out and the man convulsed in relief and pain. Ethan shoved the bottle up his ass again, going deeper.

"Oh God! I can't stand it. I am begging you man, take it out." Ethan shoved it in farther, imagining the bottle growing larger in the man's rectum. The bottle reacted by slowly enlarging. "Fuck you! Fuck you, whoever you are! I'll see you in HELL!"

"You are going to go to the part of Hell where this bottle will be a fond memory. You are going to spend eternity as the fuck-toy for the worst demons in Hell. So I say FUCK YOU!" The bottle grew so large that the pain made the rapist's heart stopped. Ethan left it inside the rapist for the police to find.

Ethan picked up the girl. She had collapsed in terror when the fighting started. Ethan helped her to her feet. "This guy you are with, he's no good for you. He brought you here on purpose. He was using you to pay off a gambling debt to these guys. He didn't know that they weren't going to just take you, that he was always going to be their victim as well. Isn't that true, asshole?" Ethan asked the sobbing sodomy victim. He nodded.

"You are going to be all right," Ethan promised. These guys won't be hurting anyone ever again. In the morning you will feel much better. In a couple of days, the memory of this won't bother you so much. And from now on, you will use better judgement when picking guys." He stroked her temples and she felt much better. He went over to the guy and pulled his coat off, handing it to her. "You can see yourself home. I am going to take your date home, and see to it she's safe. From now on though, you are going to prefer being fucked up the ass violently by strangers. to any other form of sex. You will stay away from good people and stick to your kind."

Ethan guided the girl through the rubble to the clean night air. He scooped her up and carried her, her head against his chest. After a few blocks he asked where she lived. Ethan carried her to her front stoop and watched as she disappeared inside. Ethan walked to the end of the block where a shape waited in the shadows.

"Hello Zefs, I had a feeling you'd show up. Did I cross some kind of a line? Did I use my gift for doing wrong?" Ethan asked, certain he was in some kind of cosmic trouble.

"That's not how your gift works, Ethan," began the old man. "You have a good heart. But a good heart isn't a perfect heart. You now know you have the ability to kill and not feel guilty in the least. In your heart, you did what you knew was right. You dealt justice, not vengeance. But still, you took eleven lives and condemned a twelfth to a living hell. At some point, that will take its toll on you. When it does, you can always ask for help."

"Help? You mean this gift comes with an instruction manual?"

The old man smiled. "Sort of. It comes with a long history. History is a great teacher." The old man turned back into the shadows and disappeared. Ethan wasn't disturbed. There was something mystical about Zefs. It seemed perfectly normal to Ethan.

Ethan was lying in bed nude when he heard his mother come in. Without thinking, he cast his covers off and lay on his back, fully exposed. His cock grew in anticipation. When his mother opened the door, Ethan's thick manhood reached for his navel. Ethan could feel her heart beating, her desire at the size of his cock and how it had made her feel. He could feel her crossing the room, hoping she would take the initiative. He felt his covers shift and then felt them lowering onto his nude form. His mother turned and left, closing the door, and leaving her son feigning sleep in the darkness.

Blessed, dreamless sleep came quickly.