A night In Paris ( Countryhumans)

The box

At the same time on the other side of the ocean, America was looking at the little box on his nightstand. This box he found in Confederate's grave, where he should have found his body. He wondered why someone would take this man's body and leave there this little box instead. A box he knew that was very important to Confederate, he took great care of it. America had no idea where Confederate might have had this box and even its contents, had been kept secret by the deadman.

And now that he had it in his hands, he hesitated to open it, pushing back every day since its discovery the hour of the opening. To open it to discover things that could upset him forever however he had to do it to know for his conscience that would finally rest in peace. His fingers touched the lock of the little box, and he gently tried to lift the top of the box. Feeling no resistance the box opened in two, he could see inside many documents and photos.Many letters that America will quickly look at were about the dreams and hopes of the Confederate, the future of America, trade relations with European countries . One of the letters atonished America, he recognized the way of writing of his first ally, he was shocked that she had write to Confederate and that she had showed him a certain affection and supported him in his approach, and planned trade agreements with him.Now he remembered something which at the time he had not paid attention to, but on the day of the Confederate burial she was present to lay flowers on his grave. He did not remember what they had said together that day, he remembered that cold look that was judging him, those fragments of words that had caused him extreme pain in his ego.

"America, ... you are only a coward. .... doing this...not in his face... You only......" ,"Coward ","Coward", this word was repeated endlessly in his head. For a situation he couldn't find another way to end it. It was him or me, repeating America over and over again since that day when a part of himself had shifted.

The suffocating atmosphere of that day, the sun burning the roofs of the cottages . America knew that this man was here, in this city that he loved so much in the southern United States. America searched in his house, but he couldn't find anyone. As he walked towards the saloon, he saw in an alley a man back who was helping a young girl to ride on his horse, the lady laughed .

This girl was Louisiana, who when she turned she saw him and told it immediatly  to the man next to her.

Louisiana was afraid for her friend. The latter glanced behind him and saw America at the entrance of the alley, he whispered to Louisiana to go away.

She tried to resist but he calmed her by putting his hand against the girl's cheek, and reassured her with sweet words. He again asked her to leave, but she wanted to get off the horse and stick to his chest for one last time.

As she descended, a loud bang resounded in the small town. Louisiana looked up to Confederate who smiled at her, a thin net of blood flowed from his mouth. She looked towards his torso, a dark, damp spot extending over his belly.

Immediately, Louisiana tried to hold him but a second detonation sounded. Aiming just above the heart of Confederate who collapsed without force in the arms of Louisiana, murmuring against her a few sweet words that America approaching heard. He was about to shoot a third time.But Louisiana had taken Confederate's pistol and held it firmly by targeting America, asking him to leave the city. That's what he did, and he did not learn of Confederate's death until a few days later, he had died of his wounds. America remembered drinking heavily from the news of his death and going to his funeral to make sure he was dead, even opening the coffin before they bured it. Confederate  dead corpse was  in that coffin.

America decided to go faster and perhaps stimulate his memory , he takes out all the contents of the box on his bed, he would see more clearly and perhaps a clue on where the corpse might be and on his captor. Among all the letters and photos, America found a small card that seemed to be one of a bar whose name was unknown to him . But what gave him cold sweat were the two rusty bullets.

 I have create a blog where I repost all my chapters (english and french version), where I correct them and change some details , plus I will post new chapters  that complete this story (previous chapters) and that will be published here one week or two after , some erotic illustration. There will be also new original stories (not countryhumans ) . If you are interested the link of my blog is on my profile , also there is my twitter and instragram for my drawings ( nsfw and others).