Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Into this story I have poured my malice, my evil, my darkness.  I leave the
stain of these traits onto this story, and thus hope to cleanse my\soul. 
This is a side-follow-on-story to Quantum Singularity part 1.  It details
Ernesto's pursuits.  Since English is not my first language there might be
miss written segments.  Please feel free to send contributions and comments
to thetruexenos@yahoo.com I would be interested in your feedback

   First person through out the tale is Ernesto

   Begin.

   I had finished with Javier around 3 in the morning.  I was totally done
with him now, other than to dispose of him.  He was broken, and I too tired
to enjoy any further acts that I may had wish to inflict on the boy. 
Besides in his exhausted state I doubt he would be conscious enough to
notice anything that was being done to him.  I forced the boy in an uneasy
and unrestful sleep, by tying his arms and legs to the cot, forcing him to
laid down in a piss soaked cot.  Despite this, the boy fell asleep in
minutes.

   The boy now secured I went downstairs, took a quick shower and got on my
bed, tired but full of expectation for tomorrow morning.

   I woke back up with out an alarm around 5:30 with the first light in the
eastern horizon.  I sprang to action, preparing breakfast plus a couple of
meals for Lorenzo and me.  The boys wouldn't get any.  The aroma of coffee
brought down a sleepy Lorenzo, who had gotten a good full night's rest, and
was waking up slowly.  We both sat quietly in the kitchen table enjoying
this time before the final preparations for the hike started.  We were both
very excited, but we did not talked about it.  Instead we had some small
talk.  Breakfast was done, but we delayed a bit longer, almost enjoying the
wait.  Finally I gave a look to Lorenzo who nodded back at me.  We both got
up and made ready to prepare the boy.  The ritual had started.

   We both headed upstairs to the attic, opening the door quietly.  I
picked up the thick leather collar that was hanging from the wall and
walked across the attic towards the cot.  There we found him still asleep
naked in the wet cot.  The boy was really quite a site.  Even asleep his
muscular development and definition were evident.  Lorenzo kicked the cot,
waking up the boy.  He was slow to move, no doubt sore from the abuses he
had endured and dazed by the lack of sleep.  I took the collar, and passed
one end of it behind the boy's neck who was still lying down.  Then I
closed the two ends together, cinched it snug around his neck, and applied
the safety lock on the straps.  I thought about what a different look
Javier would have when I took it off him.

   I retreated to my attic room for a while.  Lorenzo would tell Javier
that we were going to set him free with the condition that he would never
reveal our location to anyone.  The thing would take about 5 minutes, and
it was better if Lorenzo did it by himself.  I was not good at telling
lies. I sat in the room, and admired my trophy wall.  There were 47 pairs
of underwear in the wall now; all mementos of boys who had gone through
here and up the mountain, never to return.  It was easy to see the
progression.  On the top left were the earlier ones.  These were ordinary
boy underwear, and I remembered how back then, they boys ended up in the
same underwear they came in with.  Then in 1977 we snagged a boy, actually
our youngest ever so far, only 10, who was wearing a pair of Speedo's. 
From that point on two things changed.  First all the boys from that point
on were impaled while wearing Speedos, and second, when we impaled them
they were not wearing the same underwear that they had come with.

   Forcing the boys to wear a pair of underwear of my choosing was a means
of depriving the boys of one more layer of control.  To be killed wearing
something forced on you.  I got a raging hard on thinking about it.  There
in the table was Manuel's death Speedos with their corresponding tag
"Manuel 5/1983-b".  I picked them up, and hang them in the wall, now the
wall had 48 pairs in the wall.  This brought my mind to a choice of
Speedo's for Javier to wear.  Though I had made a lot of preparations, I
now realized that I had not picked something for him to wear.  I thought
that he might look good on a red Speedo, but perhaps a nice navy blue one
would be best.  Then, down in the floor, pushed aside and forgotten, I
noticed a pair of blue Speedo's.  I then remembered that these were
Manuel's.  The perversion of forcing another boy's Speedo's on Javier
struck me as ironic and perfectly wicked.  Manuel had been an average size
13 year old, Javier was a well built and well endowed 16 year old.  They
would be nice and tight on Javier; these would be it.

   Lorenzo had already undone Javier's ligatures, and he sat on the edge of
his cot, still naked, with a great smile on his face, and drying streaks of
tears on his face.  He had bought the story in full, and as he thought we
were going to let him go.  I looked sternly at Lorenzo, and asked, "Does he
understand?" Javier looked up at Lorenzo, as he assented with his head.

   I commanded Javier to stand up, which he did, but not without some help,
and then I proceeded to guide him down the stairs to the kitchen.  Once
there, we sat him in the middle chair, and offered him some water and a few
toasts with butter.  The boy had not eaten anything for almost a whole day,
so he ate and drank diligently not even caring for the fact that he was
still naked.  The boy finished his breakfast, and looked up at me wondering
what was next.

   As in queue, Lorenzo came in the kitchen carrying the boy's clothes,
plus the underwear I had chosen for him.  Manuel's blue Speedo's would be a
very snug fit on Javier, and a very nice and arousing sight.  However,
before the boy got dressed, I had one more thing to do to the boy.  I told
the boy to get up, and bend over, thus exposing his butt.  The boy complied
though with some trepidation showing in his face.  Then I put on a pair of
kitchen gloves, and opened a jar of Novocain cream.  I dabbed a cotton ball
in the cream, and proceeded to apply the cream on the boy's nadir region.
The Novocain would slowly numb the region.  It would take a good hour for
the numbness to spread, so this was the perfect time to do it.

   Javier then proceeded to get dress.  He started the Speedo's, which as I
thought were very snug, specially when he had to slip then up his muscular
legs, but once around his thighs, they fitted very well.  His genitals were
well contained and showed in profile.  Then he put on his black soccer
nylon shorts shirt then his socks, and finally his shoes.  The boy was
almost ready to begin his journey.  I offered him another glass of water
which he took gladly, and made ready to go.

   Lorenzo put on the backpack, and I used a pair of handcuffs to secure
the boys wrists together in front of him.  Then as it was customary, I
attached a long lease to the collar around the boy's neck, as an extra
insurance.  Lorenzo lead the way out of the kitchen, followed by the boy,
and me on the rear.  I closed and locked the door, and set off up the path
into the early morning.

   The boy was under the impression that we would take him on foot to a
distant spot were we would set him free, so he neither resisted nor
questioned us when for good measure we put a blindfold on him.  Our thought
was that this would render the boy easier to control, and less likely to
escape or question our story.  The blindfold was not hard on him at first
as the path was at first gentle and smooth.

   However as the path turned rockier and steeper, the boy began to stumble
more and more often.  Lorenzo walked next to him, helping him avoid rocks
and voids, while I tugged on the collar from time to time to keep the boy
moving forward.  Strong as he was the boy was never the less still tired,
and we had not been on the go much more than half an hour when he began to
whine.  No matter, we pushed on.

   From where we were, you could almost see where we were going in the
distance.  The sun finally broke out from behind the mountains, warming us.
It did not take us long to bring the boy to the preparation spot.  He was
in very good physical shape, and despite a number of stumbles he continued
to move well.  The sun had already dried the early morning dew, and the
temperature was warming quickly.  Today would probably be one of the first
hot days of spring.

   We reached the fire ring, and commanded Lorenzo to prepare the boy.  I
in the mean time went to check the pedestal that I had prepared for the boy
the previous day, and besides I had to pee.  I walked around the large
boulders and came up to the killing field.

   There yet again, I found Julio, still impaled and shivering.  The night
had been cold enough to chill him to the bone, and he had not had the
benefit of the sun warming rays since they had not reached him up yet. 
Julio's prolonged torment was lasting longer than most of his predecessors
had.  Our record had been 6 days, and Julio was now coming close to tying
that record.  The cucumber slides I had placed around him had kept the ants
at bay, and the vermin had left him alone for another day.  I suspected
that the cucumber slides, which were now dried up, would loose their
potency against the ants today.

   Out of professional habit again I assessed the boy's condition.  He had
a slight fever again, his sunburn had gotten worse with visible blistering
appearing on his back.  His wrists were raw from the ligatures, and there
was still no bleeding coming from between his legs.  When I inspected his
mouth I noticed the maggots were crawling around his mouth.  These maggots
were probably keeping infections at bay in his mouth as they ate the dead
flesh, but they were also digging a sizeable hole in his mouth.  I also
noticed that the boy had a bout of diarrhea as he had laid a syrupy biscuit
in his Speedos.  Some liquid excrement had leaked and had run down the
boy's legs, making a small brown pool next to his right knee.  That would
be a fly and insect magnet in a few hours.

   The pleasantries taken care of, I unzipped and began relieving myself in
the boys mouth.  The boy drank everything, probably glad to have something
warm in his stomach.  The sun had come over the rock wall, and had begun to
warm him up anyway.  Everything appeared in order here, so I headed back to
the fire ring to see if Javier's pre impalement ritual was going according
to plan.  When I got to the fire ring, I saw that Lorenzo had things well
in hand.  Javier laid on the plastic tarp, naked save for his underwear. 
Lorenzo had already applied the spreader, pushing his feet apart about 4
feet.  Lorenzo was applying the thick syrupy mix, which we knew attracted
vermin and insects alike.  This mix, made of a mixture of syrup and sardine
paste was great to speed the demise of the boys.  As part of our ritual, we
applied the goop liberally all over the boy's body.  Insects would not be a
big problem this early in the morning, but in a few hours when the
temperature turned hotter, it would be a different matter.

   Lorenzo had also already switched the boy's wrist restrains from the
front to the back.  The boy accepted these changes with out question.  He
was just glad to get a rest.  According to our story this was a way point
were we would blindfold him and take him over a mountain pass.  This was,
according to us, necessary so that he could not figure out, nor retrace his
steps to find out where he had been held.

   We commanded him to stand up, I explained that we had to carry him over
a tricky spot, and that he better not wiggle or resist or he might fall
down a cliff.  With that, Lorenzo picked the boy up over his shoulder, and
began walking down towards the killing field.  The boy complied

   I walked in front of Lorenzo, and once again rounded the boulder
revealing the killing spot.  There, in the slab next to Julio, lied two
strongly anchored foot rests a little over 4 feet tall and just as far
apart as the boys feet were thanks to the spreader bar.  I came up to the
slab, and stepped around the foot rest.  Lorenzo brought the boy in front
of the foot rests, and taking 2 steps in the small stool ladder that I had
purposely left there he began to let the boy down feet first.  As both
Lorenzo and I had done many times already, I grasped the boy's feet, and
guided them so that they came to rest on the narrow foot rests.  Lorenzo
unloaded the rest of the boy's weight, allowing him to stand, but keeping
at least an hand on the boy's shoulders to steady him, and make sure that
he did not tumble from his perch.  While this was going on, I grabbed my
very sharp cutting knife from its sheath and pointing it straight up, while
standing slightly behind Javier's I brought its tip to rest in the boy's
perineum.  This would be the spot were the pole resting next to me would
penetrate the boy.  The cut had to be both very precisely placed, and of
the correct depth.  Too close to the scrotum and it would damage the
bladder, too far away and it might perforate the large intestine.  Too
close to the center and it might tear the traversal perineum muscle. 
Abundant experience had taught me not to delay.  I rested the sharp tip of
the knife on the spot wrapping my left first around the handle.  Then using
the upright palm of my right hand I tapped the knife upward driving it in
with a single jab.  The short knife buried itself in the boy's flesh.  Then
I advanced the blade forward with two strong but controlled sweeping cuts.

   The boy did not say anything; he swung his head in surprise, feeling
only a dull sensation in his nether regions.  The blade made the
characteristic rip in the underwear, and the cut generated only a modest
amount of bleeding.  The blood began dripping down every 3 seconds or so
falling on the slab right about the spot where the impaling pole would be
anchored.  This always helped to check that the setup was properly aligned.


   I grabbed the impaling metal pole which was about 2 cm in diameter, and
placed its blunt tip against the gash I had just made.  I pressed its tip
up into the gash, going in only to the 3 or 4 cm depth that the blade had
cut.  The boy swung his head again, surprised, and not exactly sure whether
he was expecting this.  He protested, sensing something was amiss.  I was
undeterred.  I pushed the pole harder, pushing the boy off balance. 
Lorenzo caught the boy as he had begun to lean forwards towards him.  This
change of position helped me by forcing his posture in a forward lean.  I
thrusted the pole into the boy again, with no penetration, then again, and
this time, I felt the familiar feeling of muscle tissue parting, allowing
the pole into the boys abdominal cavity.

   The journey of the pole's tip through the boy's body would be critical.
My aim was to avoid damage to any of his internal organs.  The pole slipped
between the bladder and the rectum, running into the small intestine. 
There I moved the pole side to side, in an effort to push in intestine out
of the way while driving the pole deeper still.  The membranes that hold
the small intestine had to be torn through.  The boy began to complain
loudly now, not so much about the pain, but the unexpected turn of events
that were unfolding around him.  Good I thought, he was not aware yet.

   I continued to push the pole further up into the boy's body, now almost
in a full foot in.  I knew that at some point the tip of the pole would
come up against the abdominal wall.  The pole would make an unnatural bump
on the boy's belly, which would move when I pushed the pole to one side or
another.  Lorenzo was watching out for it, and when he finally saw it, he
gave me the signal.  "Stop, you are there" I quickly backed the pole 4
inches, threading the pole under the top section of the large intestine. 
Then I began to push the loose end of the pole down, righting the pole
closer and closer to a vertical position.  Once the pole approached
vertical, I allowed the bottom of the pole, which was only an inch or so
from the concrete slab to slide in a metal jacket in the base.  Once in I
secured the pole with a wing nut screw.  Fixing the bottom of the pole to
the slab marked the first part of the impalement.  The boy stood upright,
still quiet, but with an expression of apprehension showing in his face. 
The metal pole sticking straight up from the slab, disappearing between the
boys legs, and a thin line of blood flowed from the boy down the pole.

   The boy was now as good as gone, the only thing left to determine is
whether we would be able to conduct a successful impaling by threading the
pole through the boy and out his mouth, or whether we would mess it up and
accidentally end the boy's life in the process.  If we avoided perforating
any organs or blood vessels, there would be almost no bleeding involved.

   Lorenzo queued by the attachment of the pole to the floor slab looked
for my signal.  When I assented, he took the boys blindfold off, and threw
it a few feet away.  The boy closed his eyes, unaccustomed to the
brightness.  As Lorenzo and I had done many times we prepared for the next
step.  I took the other stepping stool, placed it behind the boy and
climbed to its top.  In that position I was just a bit higher up than the
boy.  I used my left hand to grasp the collar, and the right hand to hold
his shoulders.  Lorenzo in the mean time had stepped off his stool and was
standing in front of the boy, and ready to push the boy's feet from the
pedestal.  Lorenzo gave me the ready to go signal, but I waited.

   I always got a kick out of waiting until the just about to be impaled
boy realized what was actually happening and about to happen.  Javier had
become used to the bright day, and he was scanning his surroundings.  He
had caught sight of Julio, impaled about 12 feet in front of him.  He
figured it out pretty quick, but we were ready.  I gave Lorenzo the go
ahead.

   Lorenzo pushed the boy's feet off the pedestal, and kept him from
regaining purchase on them.  The boy began sliding down the pole.  He began
to scream and curse, while trying to get his legs back up the foot stands.
Lorenzo thwarted his attempts.  The bound ankles made it hard for the boy
to put one foot back on the rests let alone two.  In his struggle, the boy
was unwittingly pile driving himself down the pole.  The boy's screaming
and cursing became intermixed with guttural noises, as he felt the tip of
the pole press against his innards.

   Julio was moaning loudly a few meters away, watching in horror as the
same fate that had befallen him was inflicted on another.  I glimpsed at
him a few times, noticing that Julio was struggling against his restrains,
though to no effect.  I decided not to be distracted by Julio, and put my
attention back on the task at hand.

   I held the increasingly impaled and correspondingly lower boy in place
and upright.  I wanted to make sure that the pole slid behind the stomach,
between the lungs, and missed the heart as its tip inexorably pushed higher
up in the boy.  Javier was breathing quickly, and had for now given up on
regaining his footing.  Certainly, the fact that his body now rested a foot
lower down the pole made it harder for him to try.  He strained against the
ligatures holding his arms behind his back, as he fought to avoid the fate
we had dealt him.  The boy had stopped sliding, and was breathing hard. 
Sweat was dripping through out his body, and for an instant stopped
struggling.

   The boy kept swiveling his head around and below him as much as his
collar would let him trying to grasp what was happening and being done to
him.  Javier also looked in front of him to Julio, who fully impaled and
bound less than four meters away foreshadowed his future state.

   The boy, after a brief respite, attempted once more to put his left feet
back on the foot rest.  The spreader bar made it made it hard, and yet he
succeeded on placing the tip of his foot on the rest, but before he could
event try to place his right foot on the other rest, Lorenzo pushed his
foot off the rest.  Both legs dropped down heavily, pushing the pole past
some point of resistance, and the boy began sliding down the pole anew.

   I was familiar with this point of resistance.  The pole's blunt tip had
now broken into the boy's thorax, and the boy was once again sliding down.
The boy screamed loudly and writhed, but his efforts were futile.  As the
pole crept up, it began to force the boy's posture into a straighter stand,
slowly robbing him of freedom of movement.  The boy, in growing
desperation, kept raising his legs up in a vain effort, and as he was
growing tired, he would let them drop heavily, thus jerking his body
downwards.

   The clamp which I had strategically placed in the pole kept getting
closer to the point were the pole penetrated the boy.  Based on this I
began to expect that the tip of the pole would be reaching the top of the
boy's rib cage soon.  This was another delicate point in the impaling
process, for if we did not take care, the tip would break out either
through the upper rib cage, or shoulder.  Our aim was to have the tip come
up straight up the throat, and eventually thread the boys lower jaw.

   One of the reasons we forced the boys to wear the thick leather collar,
was that once the pole would come inside of it, it would help us constrain
the pole inside the neck, and thread the body, and ultimately be forced to
pass through the boys lower jaw.  I say ultimately, because normally we did
not let the pole punch through the lower jaw right away.  Once the boys
were mostly impaled, we still had some more abuse to foist on them, and it
was only when we were done with that last event that we would let them
slide the rest of the way to the floor, allowing the pole to break through
the lower jaw and out the boy's mouth.

   Javier, would ultimately be no different, but because of his age, older
than usual, and his strength, well above average, we had decided we would
inflict far more abuse than normal while in his semi-impaled state.  If we
succeeded now at threading the pole up his throat we would make the boy's
end far harder than any of the boys that had preceded him.

   I freshened up my hold of the boy by the collar, and forced his neck
back, to make sure that the pole would come up his throat.  A quick look at
the amount of exposed pole left between the boy's butt cheeks and the
arresting clamp in the pole, revealed that the tip of the pole would be
coming up the throat any moment now.

   We got lucky in this respect.  I noticed the tip of the pole come up
under the boy's skin, just to the left and behind his collar.  A jerk to
the left and back, forced the posture of the boy so that the bump created
by the pole's tip disappeared inside the boy's collar.  The tip should now
be close to the center of his neck.  The inexorable descent of the boy,
forced the pole inside the confines of the collar.

   The boy began to writhe anew as the pole now began creeping up inside
his throat.  I could hear the snorting sounds Javier made as his throat was
pressed tighter around the collar.  The boy's butt had descended down the
pole enough that it began to rest against the clamp, and Javier's descent
down the pole slowed, and then stopped.

   Lorenzo and I were static.  We had another succesfull boy impalement on
our hands, the 5th in a row now.  We were getting better at this.  I came
around to admire the sight of our newest impalee.  Javier's musculature was
amazing, under the full sun, and because of the tremendous strain he had
just exercised his veins were in full relief, and you could see just about
every ripple of the boy's musculature.

   To put a cherry in the picture short of speak, the boy, just as many of
his predecessors did, was sporting a ragging bonner barely contained by the
tight blue Speedos we had forced on him.  In a few weeks those would be on
my wall I thought.  Those beautiful tight blue Speedo's which Manuel had
traded with me, the same boy who had been impaled on the very same spot
where Javier now rested.  Somehow it felt very circular.

   The first part of the impalement was done, but the boy's descent into
hell had just begun.  Lorenzo and I had discussed what I had wanted done at
this point, and we set to it.  The boy, was slowly calming down, and
getting used to the pressure of the pole in his throat.  We had set the
height of the clamp such that the pole would not interfere with his ability
to turn his head around.  This boy would have full view of what was
prepared for him, and what was done to him.

   To begin with, Lorenzo and I took the foot rests off their base, and
moved them away, removing any chance and hope that the boy would be able to
gain a footrest and escape.  This left the boy suspended up the pole, with
his legs spread wide apart by a spreader bar.  We took two carabineers and
used them to clamp the spreader bar to the pole in such a manner that it
could slide up and down the pole with out producing any support for the
boy. It did however keep the boy from moving the legs forwards or
backwards.

   The boy followed us with his gaze, looking at us incredulously.  It was
time to have our first post impalement fun with the boy.  I stood in front
of him, and reached for his bound crotch.  I felt the boy's hard dick over
the fabric of the Speedos.  As I grasped his member I could feel the boy's
heartbeat, and I could see his chest heave as he breathed.  I had a raging
hard on myself.