Here it is, my esteemed Steemians, my next Steemit Fictional Novel Venture: UNPROVEN Prologue "The Curse"

If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected, decide what to be and GO BE IT
-The Avett brothers

Introduction to the story Here

Prologue

The man crouched next to the contorted and writhing form of his thirteen-year-old son, silently cursing his ancestors, genetics, and fate. The sound of the siren above his head grated on his every nerve. Instead of the reassuring howl of a life being saved, it seemed a death toll, screaming out his guilt. The sins of the father, it cried, and he bent his head, taking steady breaths to control the sudden fear.

A hand on his shoulder reminded him he wasn’t alone and he glanced up at the anxious expression of his beautiful young mistress.
“He’ll be okay James,” she said fearfully, “we caught it in time.”

He gave her a steely glare before nodding.
The ambulance turned into the hospital parking lot, braking to a stop in front of the entrance, and the next few minutes were a blur of activity as his son was rushed into critical.

A nurse put a hand on his arm, “Sir, you’ll have to stay in the waiting room.”

“Like hell I will,” he growled. She backed down, realizing she was not going to stop his determined 230 pound bulk. No one could, not even the doctors as he was the only one who knew what was happening to his boy and what needed to be done NOW, there was no time for the tests they would try to insist upon.

Jules watched him disappear into the hospital room, sending a silent plea into the ether for his son, fear for Grayson and herself tying her stomach in knots. She sat on the hard-backed chair, her hands twisting in her lap. She should have said something sooner, and judging by the way James had looked at her he was inclined to agree.

‘The Curse’, also known within the family as King Henry’s Blight, had been passing itself down from fathers to sons for centuries. Possibly longer, though there was nothing documented farther back than the notorious King of Death.

The public would be quite astounded if they knew the real story behind Henry’s explosive temper and incessant need for sex, a physical defect that made the idea of blue balls a joke in comparison. The Teller’s weren’t direct descendants of Henry of course since the Tudor line had ended when all three of Henry’s children had been childless, but as though the curse were a living thing it had refused to be stopped by this inconvenience, reappearing in the line of a slightly distant relation.

The curse worked simply. Like all men who went without sex for a period, the Teller males would become irritable to downright hostile. But unlike most men their bodies did not perform the natural function of reabsorbing the buildup of semen, instead it would continue to build until the testes and the penis had swelled to the point of debilitation. If gone untreated for too long, the sperm would indeed go back into the body, but an extra enzyme within the fluids caused it to be seen as a foreign entity and the body essentially attacked itself. If this occurred, at best the victim would be gravely ill for months, at worst they would die.

Adding serious insult to injury, masturbation, while providing temporary relief, would actually speed up the process. The more times they ejaculated in this manner, the faster it would build up the next time. There was only one effective treatment; to mate with a woman. Deep inside a female’s intimate channel was another enzyme, one which served as a balm and essentially a cure- as long as the intercourse occurred regularly- and due to the nature of the interaction, without benefit of protection. The barrier of a condom made sex no more effective than using their hand. And while it was possible for them to pull out, releasing inside a woman added the extra benefit of draining them to the point of buying more time before the whole process would begin again.

Jules was the only person in James’ life who was privy to this information. As far as he knew the Teller’s were the last of the carriers, and since all James’ male relations had passed away, it left himself and Grayson alone to carry on the line and all that came with it. Perhaps she should be grateful that she’d agreed to the part in their contract that forbade her to have children. At least she’d never have to watch a son of her own suffer.

She hastily shook away this line of thought as she heard heavy steps making their way in her direction. She looked up at her approaching man. His handsome features were an odd mixture of relief and pain and she knew Grayson was out of the woods. The breath she’d been holding burst from her as relief cascaded down.

“They’re wheeling him out in a few minutes,” he told her, “I have to sign some papers for his release.”

She watched as he continued down the corridor, thinking even the way he walked suggested he owned the world. A state of being he had earned from years of pulling his family name and fortune out of the pit that had nearly swallowed it. And secrecy was of great importance, if the nature of their ailment ever got out it would be used against them ruthlessly. Their competitors in the often cruel world of big business would not hesitate to exploit such a weakness, and everything James had built could come crashing down around their feet. All it would take was the right woman, beautiful and trained in the art of seduction with the intelligence to work as a corporate spy-after all, men without the Teller issue had been succumbing to this form of manipulation since the beginning of time- but combine intense desire with survival-fueled need and the potential for disaster was devastating.

James returned after only a minute and spared a glance at his young mistress. The look on her face was one of profound relief. To an outsider it would appear she cared greatly for his son. Only he knew it was self-preservation rather than love that inspired such a look.

His thoughts were sidetracked by the sight of Grayson being wheeled down the hallway toward him. At the moment he looked much younger than his thirteen years, his eyes slightly wide from a combination of pain medications, fear, and confusion. James closed his eyes briefly, picturing his son as they’d jabbed him with needles and tubes, and felt a swell of pride at how he’d suffered the agonizing pain in silence, gritting his teeth against his cries, holding back tears with sheer will. He opened them again and smiled.

One day his boy would be a force to be reckoned with.

Stay Tuned for:

Chapter One
Four years later

Generously created for me by @son-of-satire

Have you filled your witness votes?
Check out these passionate and competent souls: @teamsteem, @steemgigs, @ausbitbank, @aggroed, @roelandp and @dragosroua; then go to https://steemit.com/~witnesses
If you don't see their name, simply write it in the empty box at the bottom of the page.

To better understand what a witness does read @dragosroua's post Witnesses: What they are and why you should care