Blood Vane

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Alistair Boot sat down the cup of coffee he had been nursing for the last few minutes to turn yet another page in what was beginning to feel like an endless file on Seth Edwards.

Alistair grudgingly had to hand it to Lincoln Miles. The man might very well be a homophobic jerk but he took his job seriously and he did it well.

The folder before him not only listed everything and everybody that Seth Edwards had so much as glanced at after the attack on Roddy Malone, it went into great detail about the boys life leading up to his arrest and incarceration at the Hillbern facility.

It wasn’t a pretty story to say the least. Alistair went through the file slowly, glancing at the pictures and documents. A young Seth smiling with his foster parents. The couple had been very taken with the boy, and had fought hard to keep him.

Alistair sighed. Who knew what Seth’s life might have been like if they had been able to.

Other pictures littered the folder. Pictures of Seth in various poses for the vile pornography his parents made and sold. Pictures of Seth, just barely older than a toddler with a grown mans penis in his mouth.

Alistair felt his stomach churn and he had to look away. He had seen a lot in his years as a warden but the abuse this boy had endured was unbelievable.

He flipped towards the back of the folder. A much older Seth stared up at a camera with numbers before him as he had his picture taken after his arrest. Even in this picture, his eyes were red from crying and his face was pale as cotton.

So, this was what Judge Royal Pope had seen when they had dragged Seth into his courtroom. No wonder he had gone out of his way to try to do his best for the boy by sending him to Hillbern.

Alistair flipped past another page. Peewee Bundy stared up at him with dead, wide eyes from the floor of the Boot Hill infirmary. In the background, almost out of range of the camera sat a blood spattered Seth Edwards on a hospital cot.

The warden scowled as he looked at the pictures. Personally, he had never liked Bundy. It seemed to him that the bandy legged little man would be the type to take advantage of anyone he felt he had power over.
Still, it bothered him that a murder had been committed in his prison and he still had no clue as to who had done it or how it had happened.

Alistair took another sip of his coffee as he went to close the file on Seth. As he did another set of pictures near the middle of the folder slipped free and tumbled to the floor.

The charred remains of Seth’s parents stared back up at him. The cause of the fire that took their lives had been inconclusive, but arson had been suspected.

Alistair stuffed the photo’s back in the file. He couldn’t have blamed Seth for a second if he had set his parents on fire. Judging by what he had seen in the folder they had deserved at least that much punishment and probably much more.

As for Peewee Bundy, Alistair had a burning suspicion that in that case also; the man had asked for what he had got.

His mind slipped back to Roddy Malone and what he had seen in the hospital. It had been a gruesome attack. One designed to make sure the victim didn’t forget it any time soon. A warning.

Alistair ran a hand through his long silver hair. He had thought to make things simpler by having Seth followed and watched for a few days to make sure the boy wasn’t up to any mischief, or in any danger of retaliation but now, thanks to Lincoln Miles and all of the evidence he had before him; he realized that his problem might be much larger than he had originally thought.

If what he suspected was true, then Seth may very well have already killed three people in self defense and nearly gelded another. There was no telling what lengths the boy might go to if he felt he was threatened.

Alistair gathered his things up along with the folder and set off for home after waving goodbye to Zoë. Thank God it was Friday.

When he got home he intended to sit his lover down and have him go over this file with him. Royal was no virgin when it came to dealing with abuse cases either. He could really use the Judges input on this one.

At the very least, Alistair had one very disturbed young man on his hands at Hillbern, but it was also quite possible; that he could have a cold blooded killer.


Micky Cooper had quite a quandary. He had to decide which team he was going to bet on and he had to do it today. Georgia was playing Carolina Sunday, and the Bulldogs were heavily favored to win.

Micky glanced over at the table where Seth Edwards and his friend Blood sat talking. Seth gave Blood a dazzling smile and Micky felt his heart sink as Blood ducked his head shyly and smiled back at the other boy.

If he chose a loser in this game he was fucked royally. Malone obviously had something up his sleeve and Micky was terrified of what it might be.

Across the room, Seth leaned in to whisper something in Blood’s ear that made the other boy blush beet red. Suddenly, Micky had an idea. At least he could get a second opinion on which bet to place.

He crossed the room and invited himself to sit down at their table. Seth scowled for just a moment but then he seemed to relax. As always Blood grinned and welcomed him to join them.

“Either of you guys planning to watch the game this weekend?” Micky asked. Seth shook his head no. Sports didn’t interest him in the least unless it was boxing.

“I’m watching.” Blood grinned. “Got to see the Bulldogs kick Carolina’s ass.”

Micky nodded. “So, you think they’ll win then?” He had been planning to bet on Georgia.

“Of course.” Blood said. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah I thought so.” Micky murmured, praying he was right.

“Well,” Seth smirked, “I hate to disappoint you both but the Gamecocks are gonna win.”

“Get real.” Blood scowled. “It’ll never happen.”

“Why do you think so?” Micky asked. He knew Seth didn’t even watch football.

“Its just nature taking its course.” Seth smiled while the other two looked confused. “Obviously you two were never raised around chickens.” He laughed.

“What do you mean?” Blood looked intrigued.

“Well,” Seth said slowly. “You have a bulldog and you have some chickens. Most of the time the dog will go after the chickens and kill them with no problem, but if you hang around and watch for awhile you’ll notice something.” Seth paused for effect. “The bulldog will never attack the rooster.”

Micky’s frowned in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because.” Seth held his arm up. “Roosters, and especially Gamecocks have spurs on the feet.”

Blood and Micky stared at each other, still confused.

Seth grinned at them. “The bulldog will never attack a gamecock because that rooster will pull a switchblade on him and slice him to ribbons if he does.”



“I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind.” It was Micky’s mantra as he walked back to Roddy Malone and placed his bet. All or nothing on Carolina to win.

Roddy had grinned at him as he took the bet. “You know Cooper,” He quipped, “ I really didn’t expect you to make it this easy for me.”

“I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind.” Micky thought it all the way to the recreation room that Sunday.

“I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind.” He thought it all the way through nine tenths of the game as Georgia took the lead and held it the entire game.

“I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost my mind.” As a matter of fact he thought it all the way down to the final nail biting seconds of the game when Carolina’s quarter back threw a hail Mary pass that was caught just as pretty as you please right there in the end zone, and the whole University of South Carolina exploded onto the field in a huge surprise victory.

Everyone in the recreation room stared in shock as Georgia snatched defeat from the jaws of victory and the Carolina fans went absolutely berserk. Thomas “Blood” Vane stared in shock as his best friend, Micky Cooper suddenly grabbed Seth Edwards by the front of his shirt and kissed him passionately right on the lips.

Seth Edwards was shocked speechless.

Sonny Edwards was laughing his ass off at his other.

Roddy Malone was so mightily pissed, he kicked his bunk hard enough to strain a groin muscle. Again.

It was an orgy of surprised jubilation for Carolina fans, and a pit of despair for those supporting Georgia.

Of course, some did take the news better than others.

For instance, at Alistair Boot’s house; a certain Judge needed a long hot bubble bath and a warden in an edible
cherry-vanilla thong before he could even BEGIN to recover from Georgia’s defeat.


TBC....