A Kidnapper's Dream (Unedited)

-Chapter 5: Stories and Elephants-

@copyright all rights reserved 2013

Written By: LovableMonster

-Chapter 5: Stories and Elephants-

Luca sighs and begins a story, one I've been dying to hear from him, so he'll finally open up to me. I've been very generous in this situation where, don't forget, I'm the captive... I can't believe I even have the nerve to joke about it like its hilarious, or that it's something that happens every day to me.

"Once there was a boy, he was born in London with...the marks of the devil on him..."Luca starts explaining. I look at him, and I can already tell this is hard for him to explain. I wish I could somehow take away some of the pain, but I'm too afraid to try. I had always wondered why Luca didn't have a French accent...

He continues," the boy's parents shunned him, they casted him out of their lives...They tortured him...'' He tries to look away from me, hoping my eyes will wander somewhere else besides him.

"At the age of nine the boy ran away from home and went to a little orphanage in London...A place where shit smells all day and the sun never shows...He was...he was happier there..." Luca rubs his wooden arm.

I don't have any questions to ask so I allow him to continue with his story, that's really not a story at all.''After a while the people at the orphanage were just like my--I mean--his parents...'' Like he couldn't tell I knew the story was about him, but he knew I knew it was about poor little Luca.

''So after he turned eighteen he had almost enough bruising and whiplashing he could take from that awful orphanage...He tried to set up a little art shop, because that was all he was really good at...He had no money and no other plans...He would sit in that shop every day and every night, but...but nobody would buy his art...'' Luca said, I can hear the trembling in his voice, the cracking of his hard shell.

I sit up a bit in the chair," Why not?" He shakes his head and gets up from the chair and walks over to me. He leans in, inching his face right next to mine," Because he was hideous! The devil of London people used to call him..." Luca moved his face away.

His face flashed from pain to expressionless in a matter of seconds and then looked down at me," But a generous woman helped him...She let him paint and would sell his art for him...He made millions...Though the woman was a skank...She'd tried to make him give her the money for his art by tempting him with her body..."

He shakes his head," I've been hiding here, with my fortune for quite some time, hoping to God that that woman never shows up here again..." Luca fumbles with the sleeves of his shirt.

I feel offensive to the word skank, even if it's not about me, the right to call a woman that!

"Why would you treat her so horribly when she did so much for you?" I ask, even wondering why she would want to sleep with this man...

Luca leans his body on the loveseat," She only wanted to help me because she knew I could make her money with giving her the little she needed for helping me, she looked past the hideousness, and used me...Besides, I'd dream about you, my sweet Jessalyn, and I didn't want to be with that woman and take up my time with her when I could be thinking of you..." He says, disturbing me to a whole new level that I can't even begin to describe.

Even if I ask him why he has dreams of me, that are so lifelike and true, he won't have the answer to give...

I move away from him, almost falling out of the chair in the process. Luca reaches out and then stops," I hope my little story didn't frighten you too much," he says in a sarcastic tone. I shake my head," It didn't..."

He smiles this time, showing a set of white and yellow teeth, and then he walks away. He sits down at his desk and pulls out a piece of paper and an ink bottle and a feather pen to write with," The end.'' He says, adding ink to paper.

I know there's more to the story of his past, but one day I'll ask him again. I know it was difficult enough to express that much to me, to be so open. I turn over in the chair and hug at my knees, I start to feel homesick. I miss my grandparents...

I don't feel hungry at the moment, but I can feel the urge. I ask him for a meal and then he brings it to me. I'm not exactly sure where he stores all the food, this place is probably full of doors but I'm too scared and mesmerized by Luca to begin to hunt for them.

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After almost two weeks I feel myself grow bored and tired of the wallpaper and the endless painting Luca does and I watch. I ask him if I can paint a picture, he was curious to find out why I would ask that, but he was happy to oblige in the end. Honestly, I was just so bored that I needed to find something to settle my mind.

He brings out a fresh, brand new canvas and places it on the wooden easel, the thing looked so old I was afraid to even touch it.

"What should I paint?" I asked as he placed the paint set on a little table he brought up beside me and handed me a small brush to paint with.

"Paint what you love...That's what I do," he says, placing his arms on my sides.

His fingers don't grip at me, his nails don't dig in, and they just rest there. It almost feels natural for once and I'm glad for the support. He breathes down at me, sending heat waves at me.

I let the paintbrush do the work, sending blue and gray lines of paint on the canvas. The brush dabs into the black and drives lines around the colors.

Luca doesn't remove his hand and asks me," What is that?" I continue adding paint and I can actually feel a little proud of the art so far.

"I won't spoil it for you...'' I say, drawing a circle out of paint.

I've never done something like this, I've never even picked up a paintbrush. It's a nice experience to have, but there's always something biting at the back of my mind.

Why are you having such fun? There's a kidnapper behind you...

I finally set down the brush and wipe the seat from my forehead, my brown bangs bouncing falling in perspiration. Luca smirks and removes his hands from me, he inspects the painting like an art teacher would.

"Elephants?" He asks, confused.

I nod," I always loved them...That's the main reason that...I wanted to go to the circus that...that day..." I say, letting my voice trail off. Luca picks up the canvas, ignoring my comment, and places it by the painting of me he made the first few days of me.

They look so different, contrasting one another up there on the wallpapered wall. Somehow they fit together, even though they both have so much that's different from one another. My painting looks like a child made it, but Luca's looks like he's been graced with God's gift. Luca would disapprove of that thought, when he acts so strongly in the matter of the God and the devil.

Luca comes up behind me," Don't be discouraged my angel, it takes years to master the paint..." He smiles and brings his arms around me.

I try to push them away, but somehow I can't. We stand there in an embrace, something so innocent, for just a short amount of time.

Then Luca turns ugly and angered when we hear a knock, and then a pounding, at a door.