American Windwalker(s)

A Story by Abishai100

A vigilante aids a damsel in a Wingate stalked by a masked maniac who claims he's from Mars but maybe is actually the vigilante's estranged twin (brother!).

A 'bright' tale loosely inspired by The Strangers (Liv Tyler). Happy Holidays,

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MR. AMLAN SATAN: "This poor damsel of the Wingate (hostel) for hospitality-readings superstition cyber-writing and 'cult-following' now needs my help for a stalker-condition she revealed on social media, requiring 'incomplete-distances' to traffic photo-synthesis, for bureaucracy-shrewdness of a Homeland securities/handshake design(s)."

Amlan, our protagonist hero-prince of this vigilante tale of Wingate terror, was to advocate a social media culture of commentary friendly heroics on behalf of an online-writer named Ezzy who was about to make a world-exchange or customs 'ghost-story' about luchi.

EZZY: You think this maniac-stalker has some angst about bread?

AMLAN: Nah...he's one of those mod self-invented 'terrorists' of a criminal-vanity.

EZZY: You're a vigilante by night and what like telemarketer by day (ha)?

AMLAN: Actually, lady, I'm a librarian and happened to know of Wingate mazes!

EZZY: You're a professional for American infrastructure readings, kind of like me.

AMLAN: I read you're a divorced American...considering a new-life sanity (ok).

EZZY: Thanx so much (for this Wingate-reading).

AMLAN: No worry; this stalker isn't from Mars or Hell (ha).

Well, our damsel in Wingate America wasn't sure this stalker-maniac wasn't certainly from Mars/Hell but was indeed comforted by her dashing vigilante bodyguard (now), Amlan Satan, who assured her once he'd secured the hostel (Wingate) and used it as a cyber-lure for drawing in the maniac-stalker on a specific time for conditions for prediction/defense, she'd return to her social-media/cyber-life of photo-synthesis for happy bread.

EZZY: How much do I owe you?
AMLAN: $1M.

EZZY: What's this?
AMLAN: I read you inherited money and made much with your online associations.

EZZY: That's true...fine.

AMLAN: Cool; we'll keep the fee a secret...and I'll make you luchi in Wingate, lady.

EZZY: Very good (for privacy matter).

AMLAN: I assure you, this stranger is not from Mars or Hell's kitchen(s).

EZZY: Fine.

No, he wasn't from Hell or Mars, this stalker who despised Ezzy's luchi-representation(s). However, believe it or not, readers, this man was Amlan Satan's (estranged) twin (brother!). Ajay Satan was a conjoined twin of Amlan Satan and separated at-birth and then moved to a different home by his mother who found something 'evil' in his infant-mind/spirit and was comforted knowing Ajay would simply be foster-care raised, like in some American rendition of an orphanage or convent (perhaps). However, Ajay escaped boarding-school and developed an uncanny street-sense(s) of materialism interceptions, stealing (rumored/insured) blood-diamond bank-storages and stores all over the West for Euro-currency chess-lore (anonymously/masked) and creating (Interpol-relation?) cyber-commentary (wow). Now, this 'stranger' was stalking Ezzy, whom he was sure Amlan Satan (an underground vigilante-for-hire) would be drawn to, after Ezzy revealed her stranger stalker bureaucracy condition(s). Was this a different form of theater for Inferno? You may decide.

AJAY: You knew I'd be drawn to your wild Miami (Ezzy) sportsmanship 'trophy' claim!

AMLAN: I had no idea that's what my ('celebrity') twin (estranged) would become.

AJAY: Hey, I have my brain and you've yours, brother...

AMLAN: Why Ezzy, Satan?
AJAY: Don't you guess...it's about 'celebrity' vanity (for the Western)?

AMLAN: You're a psycho-sociology predator (now).

AJAY: How'd you guess the pro-football spirits account(s), for my 'journal' IQ?

AMLAN: I just started to think like you (a lot).

AJAY: Damn (social media vanities).

AMLAN: Good for bread (ok).

After Ezzy was given this miracle with her Satan-guardian, she returned to her life of writing and wrote of Amlan's (fictionalized) work with 'luchi-defense(s)' for Homeland psyche (wow). Meanwhile, Ajay Satan exiled himself to somewhere in Switzerland, where he spent quiet retirement (promised to Amlan) as a tourism-stand crafts-salesman, keeping secret his 'passed-life' of criminal-insanity (forever).

AMLAN: What were you going to do to Ezzy Harris?
AJAY: Throw acid at her face, brother.

AMLAN: Now, you've got the 'road' to wellville for privacy (with me!).

AJAY: Yes.

AMLAN: Maybe you'll become an 'angel' after all, Satan.

AJAY: Nah...but maybe a 'Selfie' man of 'incomplete-distances'...for heaven.

AMLAN: Good (for social media!).

AJAY: And Marino (thanx).

AMLAN: Why'd you tell Ezzy you were from Mars?

AJAY: She seemed bored and needed some 'superstition' about psycho-bread.

AMLAN: Right (social media bound).