THE MAN THAT WAS A BOY

Once upon a time there lived a man by the name of Child. Child was a young man at eighteen, but still a man. A fact which astonished his parents. For Child's name came out of desperation over what is commonly called the Keiter Curse. Or alternately, the Keiter Family Curse. I mean, why bother to name a child when that child is destined to die? Or so the Keiter's believed. Then again, Child was one of twelve children, for the Keiter's were a very fertile and prolific family. The Keiter's had no reason to believe that Child would live beyond his 25th year. After all, the Keiter's had killed all of the Goodman's and the oldest child in the Goodman family was twenty five years of age.

Child, like all the others, was slated to die. He was an unexpected, and late entry into the Keiter family. Prior to Child, eight of the Keiter children had already met their untimely deaths. Only Child, and his three younger sisters were still alive. Encha, Bliss and Bright had been born after Child because although Child was unexpected, the Keiter's certainly didn't take any steps to insure that no more children would be born. Besides, some of their children had been useful to them prior to their deaths.

For example, they remembered Sly quite fondly. He had often grabbed coins off of beggars for them or stolen bread from the poor. Sly had taught them things as well. He taught them how to sneak into homes without detection. Sly taught them how to use others to their own advantage. Now, before I go any further, perhaps I should explain. It is not entirely fair to paint all of the Keiter's with the same brush. It all started with John Keiter and those that came before John Keiter. Such as John Keiter the first through John Keiter the fifth. Our John Keiter was the sixth, but it did not really matter for all of the John Keiter's were of the same ilk. Rotten to the core. Horrible rotten people. And that was putting it nicely.

There was a rumor that John Keiter the Third, who was referred to by villagers as John Keiter the Turd, had once married a lovely sweet woman. It was even rumored that they had a few lovely children. But that was before he met his second wife, who bore him John Keiter the fourth. And from the fourth Keiter on, the Keiter's just seemed to get worse and worse. Not merely rotten, but putrid by the time John Keiter the sixth came to be. Now John Keiter the sixth wanted a son to carry on his name as well. However, he also knew the curse would have to be fulfilled before he could try for a seventh. John Keiter wore his villager's nickname with pride, for he was known as John Keiter the Sick.

His wife Marsha had not always been a Keiter, for that was the way of women both then and now. She had grown up in a very privileged upbringing, for the time. She was doted on as a child and never went hungry. Still, from very early on, there was something NOT QUITE RIGHT about Marsha. Everyone knew it, too. She never could keep a nurse. For they soon grew weary of Marsha Borden. You would grow weary too, if sewing needles were used to poke you. Or if sharp objects flew across the room randomly, at you. However, the Borden family pish-pahhed any complaints. After all, how could their lovely and perfect daughter ever possibly be the cause of such going-ons? It was impossible. After all, she had the best education that money could buy. She had the best clothing, the best of everything! Marsha enjoyed her lavish lifestyle, but had no qualms about burning her parents, the nurses and the educators to a crisp shortly after meeting John Keiter the Sick.

It was a match of two who were perfectly suited to one another. Both twisted in a way that others never expect or anticipate. Both suited perfectly to torture and cruelty. Both with no cause or concern for any other human being. And Marsha, to noone's surprise was pregnant with their first child rather quickly. She and John were fourteen at the time of their first. And they used the pregnancy, just as they used everything else in life...as a ruse. A way to use others. They learned quickly to play on the sympathies of others. And why not? It certainly worked for them. And, it worked extremely well.One of their most infamous victims had been a young mother, pregnant with her second child, who had just lost her husband in the war. Well, to make a long story short - they played on her sympathies, and being pregnant herself, she couldn't turn away someone in need. Then they flayed her. Trust me, the long version is much more disturbing.

Unlike most of John and Marsha's infamous deeds, this particular one had a somewhat happy ending. As far as these things go, anyway. The mother had her child before being flayed by the Keiter's, and was able to hide the infant Ultim from them just long enough to drag her bruised and battered body to a neighbor's home. The neighbor alerted the village and raised Ultim as his own son. As far as things go, everybody in the village was lucky. Everyone except the mother and her other son, of course. For the Keiter's were not exactly known for leaving any ends untied. They enjoyed torture, they loved cruelty. Had not the village out-sized and out-numbered them mightily, all knew the outcome would have changed.

Unfortunately for the Goodmans, the village in which the Keiter's killed and tortured the young mother, was too far away for them to hear the rumors and gossip regarding John and Marsha Keiter. And though the village itself was directly responsible for the death of the Goodman family, they neither knew about it nor intended for more deaths to occur. You see, rather than hanging or killing Marsha and John Keiter, the village chose to chase them away. As many do, they assumed that they would rid themselves of a problem and be done with that problem. They certainly did not consider that their problem might become an even bigger problem for someone else. And those that gave a passing thought to the matter, considered it only lightly. After all, their problem was solved. Anyone else's problem was their own problem and it did not concern them at all.

And so it came to pass that the village set their most vicious dogs out to chase Marsha and John Keiter out of the village. If the couple got mangled, killed or hurt in the process...the village was happy to say good riddance to them. If they were only chased away, the village was still happy to get rid of them. Either way, it did not matter to them. For they would then be rid of the problem of John and Marsha Keiter. You see, despite the evil deeds of the Keiter's...nobody in the village really had the heart to actually kill them. Marsha, after all, was nearly bursting with an unborn child. And that, perhaps more than anything else, saved the Keiter's and killed the Goodmans.

Which is not to say that the Keiter's had an easy time of escaping the dogs. For the dogs were well trained, and out for blood after all. The dogs were master trackers and efficient killers. There were a great many near misses and close calls for Marsha and John, but the Keiter's were very crafty and resourceful people when it came down to it. Some people are crafty and resourceful out of necessity. Some are simply of that nature and others' are bred to it. John and Marsha were of a different kind, the kind of crafty and resourceful that is rarely talked about. For what is generally a good quality in most should not be ascribed to those that are not good people. If you stop for a moment and realize though, they are qualities that are necessary for evil as well as good.

John and Marsha needed to be crafty to survive in the style that they chose to survive in. After all, you can not convince anyone that you are down-on-your luck and simply need a few dollars to cover your costs if you are not crafty. An untrustworthy person cannot convince a trustworthy person that they too are trustworthy without a bit of craftiness on their part. Such things as convincing others that your life is "oh, so horrible", in the hopes of gendering sympathy so that you can take advantage of the kind-hearted is unfortunately common in this world. All of us, whether kind-hearted or horrible, have run across this type of person. And honestly, they tend to be the most resourceful people I've ever met. And so too, were John and Marsha of such an ilk.

If there were ever two people in this world who deserved one another, it was John and Marsha Keiter. Both were very practiced at deceit, treachery, violence and torture. Their minds did not work like our minds do, dear reader. No, John and Marsha were constantly scheming new ways to get more and better out of others. Most of us actually feel things like empathy and sympathy for others'. If we do not, we are soul-less, hopelessly Narcissitic or dead. John and Marsha Keiter were of the third variety. Dead. Inside, where it counts. Their crafty and their resourceful came about due to not desiring to work hard for what they got. Their motivations came about out of sheer utter and absolute laziness. They felt they were above working hard and felt they were above the societal contstraints that fettered others.

Of course, isn't that always how it goes? Those like Marsha and John tend to scrape by, always complaining about how hard everything is. Those that actually use their craftiness for good and their resourcefulness for hard work, may or may not fall on hard times, but always seem to bounce back from whatever hardships they face. Even if it takes them awhile, they always bounce back. It is easy to see, from the view of an outsider to the Goodman and Keiter story, that perhaps if Marsha and John Keiter had put their time and effort towards working hard and aquiring things honestly, perhaps they would not have had to live through such a tragic tale as includes vicious dogs chasing them out of villages.

But it was not to be. So, a very pregnant Marsha often slept in trees to avoid the vicious dogs chasing them. John had to come up with new ways daily, and often more than daily to figure out how to keep their scent from the dogs. Covering themselves in mud was the least offensive. As much as John and Marsha had to endure, they knew they needed one another. Just as a superhero needs a sidekick, so too does a supervillian need a co-hort. Just as John knew that walking into town as single male would garner him no sympathy, so too did Marsha know that walking into town without physical strength would garner her no protection. So, it was a twisted kind of love. The kind where you do not want someone, but actually need them instead. I like the other kind of love better. The kind where you want someone in your life because they are wanted, but do not need them to survive. But this is a preference type of thing, and we will get to that type of love later on. Love is to be celebrated, whether it is twisted or not.

Marsha and John's love was a strong one, despite it's base nature. When you know you need someone for your mere survival, you will hold on to that someone long past healthy and happy. So, Marsha and John did help each other out...in their own way. So, when John spotted a lone fisherman on the bank of a river...both he and Marsha knew, without words, what must be done to survive the chasing dogs. And Marsha, with her swollen belly, put up such a ruckus that it would not be an over-exaggeration to say that wildlife for miles around, fled in fright. To put it simply, Marsha was a wonderful actress. After all, she had spent most of her life trying to get the sympathies of others. A lone fisherman walks upon a scene where a clearly pregnant woman is howling in what sounds like pain, he's going to help. Most fisherman would. That happened to be this particular fisherman's fatal mistake.

And while I skirt around the details, it is for your own protection my dear readers. After all, were I to describe how they butchered that poor lovely fisherman and what they did with his entrails, and exactly how he became a meal for more than hungry vicious dogs...well, honestly...you'd just have to have a bucket or trashcan handy. These are not delicate things, nor pleasant ones to speak of. Suffice it to say that the fisherman served John and Marsha Keiter well. Not only did he help them with creating another trail for the dogs to follow, but also provided them with a boat with few leaks. Which was really rather comfortable after all they had been through. And whatever became of the few pieces left of our lovely fisherman, well at least he filled hungry bellies. Or at least, that is how John and Marsha saw things.

Compared to their previous adventures in the wild and dangerous woods, living on a boat was easy as pie. If they were hungry, they fished with the kind fisherman's nets. If they needed to sleep, they simply pulled up to a shore and camped for the night. Neither Marsha nor John were any kind of rowman, so they basically just the current take them where it decided to. After all, they were essentially lazy people. This was an ideal life for them, just drifting all day and doing no more than they had to. But it could not last. Marsha was nearing her time, and they would have to find a village or some sign of life soon, lest the situation become one where hard work was actually involved.

**Still transcribing rest of StoryLine***