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Part I
Our bank building is a quaint little building. It's structure more like a two story home rather than a business. A fire bellowing smoke from the chimney and a horse stable built in the back. No horses were tied in, but mostly it's for the customers. I did not own a horse myself.
It had two entrances; one facing east the other west, both of which led into the main office. A little confined, yet as its exterior was, homely. A built in service counter lined where the center of the room was, and behind it was shelves of jars filled with coins. On the west side of the shelves was a door that held a much more sophisticated means of money holding. The door always opened, except after hours. I was taught it made our customers more confident in our trust.
To the east of the building, stairs that led to the upper area. More specific my study and bed. That is where the fireplace lay glowing softly on my shelfs of books I read when I need to pass time. In the center sat my large red clothed chair, where I smoke my pipe and read.
To the west of my study, a door revealing my bedroom. It was more of an attic but I converted to a sleeping area as small as it is.
I came in with John after our experience with my grandfather. We came in laughing at jokes we have heard when we ventured the town days before. John went about reopening the bank as I moved toward the desk to read through the record books.
John calmed his laughter a while yet a smile across his face signaled he was still pondering our funnies. I began to focus on the books and it settled my humor.
John approached the service counter, “All in order?”
I nodded. John lost his smile as it turned to concern, “What....what about your...uh..... head?”
I paused as I tried to search for a response.
“It feels.....normal. I think it's on for good.”
John sighed in relief, as so did I.
I closed the book and placed it underneath the counter in its place, “Sometimes though...”
After I spoke, John's expression sank sadly but he gave a concerned stare. I was compelled to continue though I desired not to, “Sometimes though, It....it doesn't feel right. Like, it....could come off again.”
John lowered his eyes as he searched for himself a suitable response, “What if....it could?”
An awkward pause between us filled the room with silence. Then, with sudden breaking of our silence, the door opened ringing the bell. In came Judge Gregory Witley.
He was a scowling old man who pleasured on making those feel inadequate. From my perspective, I was his opponent only in the terms that I was just as wealthy as he was. He despised me and on several occasions tried to accuse me of witchcraft. 'If he knew of today he would have his evidence.' I thought to myself as he entered.
“I see you are finally opened today.” He smirked
My expression was controlled by my feelings as I flexed my brow. I leered at him all by instinct, since every time he enters he has an intention of insulting me and my business. Almost gritting my teeth I replied, “Well, our hours are spontaneous. We do have business elsewhere as you know.”
Witley's smirk grew to a twisted smile, “Our citizens claim you stepped out for an indeterminable reason yesterday, and have been.....absent until now.”
I could reply. I hadn't thought of a story to cover why I left rather then to be decapitated. John fortunately stepped forward, “We needed a pumpkin. For decoration.”
I was as confused from that statement as the Judge was.
The smirk on Judge Witley's face fell to an angry frown, “What do you need the decorations for?”
John rummaged his thought for an excuse and then burst out, “For the fall? Yes. It's for the fall! To show our customers we are festive!”
I stood there in awe, and could not reply.
“Where is this pumpkin then?” Witley replied inquisitively and challengingly.
John swiftly moved to the counter and produced a pumpkin that lay behind it. I didn't notice it too much, but he took it from the counter and with a grunt placed it on top, “There....is your pumpkin sir.”
Judge Witley laughed as he approached his exit, “Haha! You two excel in lying. I shall return sometime tomorrow. Maybe then you can come with more funny tales.”
The judge left, and I stared at the pumpkin, “John. May I question.....”
John, as he placed the pumpkin down from the counter, replied, “You were a terror to manage! I couldn't have left you in that patch, and by this you at least still seemed with a head if I was seen.”
I held in my previous response and muttered, “I see.”
Then John chuckled, “At least you're still here, 'Pumpkinhead!'”
John gave me a firm smack on my back. The force was enough to jolt my neck and it slid slightly uneven to the rest of my neck.
“JOHN?!!!” I shouted in worry as I refrained to move with the exception of lifting my hands, ready to catch, “John! What is wrong! I can feel it falling!”
John rushed to me and inspected my neck, “ROBERT?!!” He repeated my emotions, “You are falling off!”
I slowly leaned forward as a mistake and then felt more sliding from my neck.
“NO! NO! NO! NO!” I fearfully chanted as my head slowly slid off. My hands were not quick enough to take my tumbling head. I bounced off the counter and slammed into the floor, feeling every bump.
John quickly ran around the counter and picked me up, “ROBERT?!?! Are you okay?”
“John! I'm headless! What do you think?!” I spouted out in angry sarcasm.
“Okay, Robert! Lets get you back.”
My body leaned over the counter with its neck exposed. I say my esophagus and neck muscles inside. Then I sought to touch it, and in response my remains did as I wanted. The response delayed from when I desired but not by much.
John came over to the body, but I yielded him, “Wait!”
John stopped and looked down at me, “What is it Robert?”
I willed my body to stand straight and it did. Once again a second slower then when I was complete but it obeyed.
“John! I can control it still!”
The body turned to John and I and stood attention.
“But how?”
“I Don't know! But its still me. I think of what I want from it and...well it does.”
The body raised its had, as I though it should and then it wavered it over the neck where my head should have been. Then it outstretched it's arms to accept me.
John hesitated, but he knew what I wanted, so he placed it in my hands and I lifted my head up and placed it back on my shoulders. The tingle came again to tell me I was on, and I regained a much more timed control of myself.
“Apparently I still have control even when the horseman is not around.” I spoke as I looked at my hands to make sure I was in control.
John responded, “Then your head is still removable? We must be careful.”
I nodded softly, “I hope I don't lose it in public.”
John nodded softly as well.
Next: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1767913/
CH1: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1711976/
Our bank building is a quaint little building. It's structure more like a two story home rather than a business. A fire bellowing smoke from the chimney and a horse stable built in the back. No horses were tied in, but mostly it's for the customers. I did not own a horse myself.
It had two entrances; one facing east the other west, both of which led into the main office. A little confined, yet as its exterior was, homely. A built in service counter lined where the center of the room was, and behind it was shelves of jars filled with coins. On the west side of the shelves was a door that held a much more sophisticated means of money holding. The door always opened, except after hours. I was taught it made our customers more confident in our trust.
To the east of the building, stairs that led to the upper area. More specific my study and bed. That is where the fireplace lay glowing softly on my shelfs of books I read when I need to pass time. In the center sat my large red clothed chair, where I smoke my pipe and read.
To the west of my study, a door revealing my bedroom. It was more of an attic but I converted to a sleeping area as small as it is.
I came in with John after our experience with my grandfather. We came in laughing at jokes we have heard when we ventured the town days before. John went about reopening the bank as I moved toward the desk to read through the record books.
John calmed his laughter a while yet a smile across his face signaled he was still pondering our funnies. I began to focus on the books and it settled my humor.
John approached the service counter, “All in order?”
I nodded. John lost his smile as it turned to concern, “What....what about your...uh..... head?”
I paused as I tried to search for a response.
“It feels.....normal. I think it's on for good.”
John sighed in relief, as so did I.
I closed the book and placed it underneath the counter in its place, “Sometimes though...”
After I spoke, John's expression sank sadly but he gave a concerned stare. I was compelled to continue though I desired not to, “Sometimes though, It....it doesn't feel right. Like, it....could come off again.”
John lowered his eyes as he searched for himself a suitable response, “What if....it could?”
An awkward pause between us filled the room with silence. Then, with sudden breaking of our silence, the door opened ringing the bell. In came Judge Gregory Witley.
He was a scowling old man who pleasured on making those feel inadequate. From my perspective, I was his opponent only in the terms that I was just as wealthy as he was. He despised me and on several occasions tried to accuse me of witchcraft. 'If he knew of today he would have his evidence.' I thought to myself as he entered.
“I see you are finally opened today.” He smirked
My expression was controlled by my feelings as I flexed my brow. I leered at him all by instinct, since every time he enters he has an intention of insulting me and my business. Almost gritting my teeth I replied, “Well, our hours are spontaneous. We do have business elsewhere as you know.”
Witley's smirk grew to a twisted smile, “Our citizens claim you stepped out for an indeterminable reason yesterday, and have been.....absent until now.”
I could reply. I hadn't thought of a story to cover why I left rather then to be decapitated. John fortunately stepped forward, “We needed a pumpkin. For decoration.”
I was as confused from that statement as the Judge was.
The smirk on Judge Witley's face fell to an angry frown, “What do you need the decorations for?”
John rummaged his thought for an excuse and then burst out, “For the fall? Yes. It's for the fall! To show our customers we are festive!”
I stood there in awe, and could not reply.
“Where is this pumpkin then?” Witley replied inquisitively and challengingly.
John swiftly moved to the counter and produced a pumpkin that lay behind it. I didn't notice it too much, but he took it from the counter and with a grunt placed it on top, “There....is your pumpkin sir.”
Judge Witley laughed as he approached his exit, “Haha! You two excel in lying. I shall return sometime tomorrow. Maybe then you can come with more funny tales.”
The judge left, and I stared at the pumpkin, “John. May I question.....”
John, as he placed the pumpkin down from the counter, replied, “You were a terror to manage! I couldn't have left you in that patch, and by this you at least still seemed with a head if I was seen.”
I held in my previous response and muttered, “I see.”
Then John chuckled, “At least you're still here, 'Pumpkinhead!'”
John gave me a firm smack on my back. The force was enough to jolt my neck and it slid slightly uneven to the rest of my neck.
“JOHN?!!!” I shouted in worry as I refrained to move with the exception of lifting my hands, ready to catch, “John! What is wrong! I can feel it falling!”
John rushed to me and inspected my neck, “ROBERT?!!” He repeated my emotions, “You are falling off!”
I slowly leaned forward as a mistake and then felt more sliding from my neck.
“NO! NO! NO! NO!” I fearfully chanted as my head slowly slid off. My hands were not quick enough to take my tumbling head. I bounced off the counter and slammed into the floor, feeling every bump.
John quickly ran around the counter and picked me up, “ROBERT?!?! Are you okay?”
“John! I'm headless! What do you think?!” I spouted out in angry sarcasm.
“Okay, Robert! Lets get you back.”
My body leaned over the counter with its neck exposed. I say my esophagus and neck muscles inside. Then I sought to touch it, and in response my remains did as I wanted. The response delayed from when I desired but not by much.
John came over to the body, but I yielded him, “Wait!”
John stopped and looked down at me, “What is it Robert?”
I willed my body to stand straight and it did. Once again a second slower then when I was complete but it obeyed.
“John! I can control it still!”
The body turned to John and I and stood attention.
“But how?”
“I Don't know! But its still me. I think of what I want from it and...well it does.”
The body raised its had, as I though it should and then it wavered it over the neck where my head should have been. Then it outstretched it's arms to accept me.
John hesitated, but he knew what I wanted, so he placed it in my hands and I lifted my head up and placed it back on my shoulders. The tingle came again to tell me I was on, and I regained a much more timed control of myself.
“Apparently I still have control even when the horseman is not around.” I spoke as I looked at my hands to make sure I was in control.
John responded, “Then your head is still removable? We must be careful.”
I nodded softly, “I hope I don't lose it in public.”
John nodded softly as well.
Next: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1767913/
CH1: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/1711976/
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Canine (Other)
Size 50 x 50px
File Size 82.5 kB
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