CHAPTER SONG: "Sleeping Beauty" by A Perfect Circle
And I sincerely thank my good friend snowdropsdream for making for me these lovely collages of Michael Fassbender and Emmy Rossum as Erik Baumer and Emmy Hunterson!
January 10, 2020
Richmond, VA
Emmanuelle dreamed as she drifted in and out of a feverish delirium, having called out sick from the library after catching a cold that progressed into pneumonia. Her skin felt like a heater turned with the dial at maximum temperature, sweat soaking her pillow, lying on the small sofa in her living room as she shivered with chills under her thin blanket.
As much as she disliked missing work, blemishing her spotless attendance record, at least she was away from the reach of vile and brutish Erik Baumer and his harassing her...
Her cynical thinking faded away as she was pulled back into her fever dream, her lungs aching as she coughed with a hoarse crack to her voice, stabbing the inside of her throat as she tried to swallow with no saliva at the back of her mouth, a weak moan escaping her lips...
Her hallucination dream progressed as she struggled to open her heavy eyelids as she felt herself floating on a hard surface, wooden and rectangular like a crate, barely keeping from slipping off as it rocked back and forth on the chaotic waves of water.
The smell of oil entered her nostrils, the flammable liquid having spilled onto the water's surface... then the approaching flames ran along the oil trails crawling along as the crate carried her inch by inch to an uncertain demise by either being burned or drowned...or both.
Emmy's fever and pounding blood vessels in her head kept her dream self from being fully aware of the danger, lying limp and spread-eagled upon her stomach, one of her arms dangling on the side of the crate to where her fingertips skimmed across the water, her leg also hanging overboard dangerously close to where her toes were already underneath...
A frightened male voice called her name... and she wanted to raise her head and open her eyes to find who might have come to save her.
But she was just too damn sick to move... Her head felt weighted as an anvil and her eyelids refused to open... She just had no strength, struggling to just keep breathing, each lungful of air made more agonizing by the smoke inhalation from the fire. All she could do was moan softly as the crate floated onward...
A ring of flames surrounded the crate keeping her afloat, leaving her trapped in her own personal inferno of hellfire. She would've been blessed by drowning in the water...
Emmy's unconscious form slipped closer to the edge of the crate, her arm hanging deeper into the water up to her wrist as well as her leg submerged past her ankle. The waves were bumping her nearer to falling off...
"Emmy!" The same voice called out her name.
The individual to whom that voice belonged dived into the water after her...
She wanted to call out to him, but her voice only provided another whimpering moan as a large wave tossed her over the edge, gravity pulling her down as she slumped off the crate and plummeted into the rancid water, immediately disappearing under the surface.
She sank slowly down into the black depths, thick bubbles emerging from her mouth as she could no longer breathe. The thickly polluted liquid flooded her nostrils and her esophagus, down to her tortured lungs, her gag reflex useless to expel the bile taste in her mouth...
Her eyes remained closed as her consciousness faded again, her body convulsing... She floated numbly in mid-water, descending further by the second to the sand that awaited her down below to be her tomb.
A strong arm wrapped around her waist as more bubbles escaped her mouth and nose, her eyes sealed shut as she hanged lifeless and unaware of her possible rescue, Emmy's body being pulled upward back to the surface.
Debris from above fell and more flames loomed over them with the ignited oil, keeping them both underwater. The arm around Emmy loosened in fear and she began to sink back down toward the bottom, the water determined to keep her in a drowning state, draining the life out of her, suffocating her lungs...
She remained unconscious... the filth coated water in her system increasing her chances of her not surviving another minute. The greasy liquid continued filling her mouth and nose...slowing her lungs like the gears inside a pocket watch stopping their spin when water leaks inside...
The arm wrapped around her again to pull her back up so she could take a merciful, choking breath... Her mysterious hero looked up to the surface, searching for a safe area to bring her up where the flames wouldn't touch her.
She didn't know it yet, but her dream self was being saved by her future love... William.
He looked from the fire riddled water to her blank face as her features remained ever peaceful and calm like she were only asleep despite her reddened skin from her fever. Her lips were open in a wide oval shape, allowing more water to drown her and her dark hair floated around her head like she was an ethereal mermaid from an otherworldly mythology...
She was heavenly in her motionless beauty... and he knew he had to save her from this watery abyss.
He wouldn't let her soul be damned to float and sink in eternal misery and death...
Will swam back up to the surface, finding a clear spot where he could spirit her away to safety. He held Emmy up, his hands hoisting her into the air as she broke through the oil soaked water's surface and she inhaled a deep breath.
She coughed and choked heavily, water expelling from her nostrils and mouth. Will coughed himself, but kept his focus on keeping her head above the surface as he held her close. To his dismay, her eyes were still closed and her skin scorching to the touch.
They were still surrounded by flames as he saw a wooden deck that led to shore. Keeping her slumping upper body supported against him, he swam quickly to god-sent platform. She was panting and heaving out deep breaths of more smoke permeated air, no doubt worsening her condition...
Will lifted her quickly onto the deck's flat surface, her eyes still closed as she continued coughing, her petite hand going to her aching chest as he pulled himself up to join her. She laid herself flat onto her back upon the wooden deck as she had no energy to sit herself upright, more coughs and moans assaulting her throat.
She felt a different warmth as her rescuer's arms gathered her up from the deck and she was floating again, weightless against his chest as her wingless archangel carried her away to what she presumed was salvation...
"You can make it. You can make it, love." His gentle voice whispered in an exhale of cool air fanning her unresponsive face.
She sighed out another pained moan and all was dark and silent...
.
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April 26th, 1917
Emmy's mind floated still as she struggled to regain consciousness. She hazily recalled fainting in William's arms as he caught her before she could collapse to the ground. Different voices flowed through her ears as she experienced her sense of feeling return to her body, her corporal's arms no longer around her.
It came as no surprise to her that he most likely had carried her inside after she had swooned into his arms like a clichéd damsel in distress unable to function without a man to keep her standing...
Maybe the time travel had already weakened her, as she had never blacked out like this back in 2020. She had no medical history pertaining to fainting with little to no warning...
She felt her body lay on a soft familiar surface that cushioned her carefully, a pillow being laid beneath her head...
A gentle touch of a kiss on both of her eyelids, her forehead...then an ever loving brush against her lips, slowly pulling her back to those she was becoming attached to.
"Will?" She rasped out the name of her soldier, whose lips she knew enough of their touch to recognize their faithful imprinting upon her face, to let her know that he was by her side. A groan escaped her mouth as her head pounded with an agonizing headache...
She was nauseated and dizzy, her throat dry as sandpaper...
"I'm right here, my love. Everything's going to be alright; you're safe." Will whispered in a comforting tone to her as he kneeled by her side next to the chaise in the Blakes' living parlor. The fingers of his scarred hand stroked along her brown hair, his thumb caressing her pale forehead.
Her eyes remained closed as she felt tempted to sink back down into sleep again, but Will's voice kept her anchored to remain awake. He held her hand tightly, as though he could keep her from being spirited away unexpectedly. His lips kissed her knuckles and fingers... her devoted hero keeping vigil at her side...
A rough, painful cough erupted from her throat, nearly causing her small frame to shudder.
A different voice echoed in her ears, deep baritone that calmed her worried state of mind as she remained in the darkness of looming ether wanting to drag her back into the whirlpool of oblivion. Her head being lifted with care from the pillow by a large hand cradling the back of her cranium, the aromas of cigarette smoke and sandalwood entering her nostrils...
Her hand was released from Will's hold as she heard him stand up and she felt another strong, masculine presence nearby.
Joseph... She recognized his rumbling voice anywhere. Something was held to her lips, a glass of cold liquid...water.
"You need to drink, dearest one. Come on, now." Joe's voice gently ordered her as he pried her mouth open with the glass's edge to make sure the water flowed onto her tongue. He supported her head to keep her from choking.
Although Emmy's eyes refused to open, still only in a half-conscious state, she could feel the lieutenant's quietly concerned gaze on her, feeling how his fingers had woven into her thick brunette locks while holding up her head, his thumb reaching around to massage her throat, making sure she swallowed the water safely and she didn't regurgitate anything, ever concentrated in ensuring her welfare.
William watched nearby as he intently watched the older dark-haired man nurture her, knowing in the back of his mind that something so intimate as holding a glass of water to her lips would be done by himself as her romantic partner, but he noticed Joseph's face as he tended to Emmanuelle, seeming to forget that the lance corporal was even in the room.
Joe's dark brow furrowed with the focus of a determined surgeon, his hands ever delicate as they handled her with the touch of an attentive paramour. The night sky blue of his eyes softening as the lieutenant kept his gaze upon her face... Whatever he had not spoken aloud was being conveyed to Will enough that he couldn't bring himself to view the superior ranked officer as a romantic rival, not after the conversation they had just hours earlier to make sure they had an understanding between them.
In normal circumstances, no war or death binding them together, Will would have walloped him for trying to kiss Emmy knowing that she didn't reciprocate his budding affections, more out of protectiveness over her than shallow jealousy.
But the ever observant corporal could never feel such animosity now that he was seeing such vulnerable emotions play out on Joseph's brooding features as he gently laid her head back down on the pillow after she drank enough water to satisfy her thirst. She moaned in discomfort as Joe raised his hand and felt her forehead before setting the now empty glass down and placing a cool soaked cloth upon her brow to dab her temples. His hands adjusted her head on the pillow, laying her down like a parent would place a newborn infant in a cradle.
Tom's voice echoed in Will's head. You see, Scho? Joe's heart is in the right place. When he loves someone, it's with his whole being. She's become part of him now...
Joseph spoke to Will, his voice hiding his worry for the woman lying before him, his eyes not leaving her face. "The color's returning to her cheeks. She doesn't have a fever, most fortunately. It's most likely from the shock of what she saw in that picture."
The lieutenant slowly rose from her bedside as he met William's eyes. The corporal nodded in response, kneeling back down next to Emmy as he took her hand within his again, placing another kiss on her scarred fingers. "Should we take her to the surgery, just to make sure?"
"Yes, we need to be better safe than sorry when it comes to her health. Even though I don't know what the hell that photograph is implying. If this is that bastard Erik's way of threatening her..." A growl of fury entered Joseph's voice as he said that name, his hands clenching into fists.
Will's nostrils flared at the sound of Erik's name, his jaw muscles tensing up as he kept his eyes on the woman he loved, her fair facial splendor keeping him calm.
Emmy's eyelids began to flutter as she released another moan of disorientation. Relief flowed through his veins at the lovely vision of the pink flush blooming on her cheeks and the rosebud petals of her lips. Her sweet mouth opened as she inhaled a deep breath and Will watched in nervous anticipation... and her evergreen orbs of floral beauty graced his sight as a relieved smile came to his lips.
"William?" Her voice croaked his name, meeting his own azure eyes. Her hand reached up to his face, her fingertips stroking his cheekbone.
"Emmanuelle... my beloved." He whispered as he leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a kiss of passion uncharacteristic of his usual chaste affection. He embraced her tightly and Emmy's arms wrapped about his neck. "Thank goodness you're awake. You gave me such a fright."
"How long was I out?" She asked, her lips brushing the side of his throat.
"Around ten minutes, not very long. But just as a precaution, Joseph says we ought to take you to a doctor. We need absolute certainty about your health, my darling." He pulled out of her arms to see her expression as Emmy's hold loosened around his shoulders.
She unwound herself from her soldier's arms, sitting up slowly as her head kept pounding, feeling like she had been run over by a freight train. Emmy repressed a groan of nausea, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I don't think there's anything a doctor can do for me, Will. Whatever that picture means... I was telling Joseph earlier outside that it could be the time travel weakening me. Even now, I've never fainted like that back where I'm from. I don't think there's anything that can stop it from happening... If I die, I die...and the both of you will move on with your lives. If Erik kills me..."
"No!" A sudden yell from Joseph startled both Emmy and Will as they turned to see the raven haired man striding quickly to her side, his eyes ablaze with anger. "I won't accept that! How can you speak so carelessly about your own life ending, Emmanuelle?"
Not appreciating being spoken down to like she was a child, Emmy found the strength flowing through her bones, powering her to stand up on shaking legs from the chaise. Will enfolded his arm around her waist as she briefly staggered on her feet, his worried gaze focused on her as he fought to remain silent, not wanting to speak on her behalf but staying by her side in case Joseph overstepped his boundaries and he had to intervene.
"Don't tell me how to speak, Joseph!" She stood straight as she gently pulled Will's arm from around her, wanting to stand on her own accord and defend herself... against her best friend. The very notion made her want to break down sobbing. "It's MY life, not yours. What I do is not up to you, or anyone else besides myself. I thought we went over this back in France when you tried to kiss me."
She glanced to the side to see Will flinch in uneasiness as Joe looked down at the floor, hanging his head in shame at the memory. Emmy reached over and took Joseph's calloused hand in both of hers, feeling the command emanating from his formidable frame even though he wasn't quite as tall as her William. Joe still possessed the physical ability to protect her should the occasion arise.
"That's not the same thing, dearest one." He was near whispering to her, the term of endearment directed at her warming her entire body with empathy. "I...I can't let you die. There's...there's a reason you were brought here to this era, right into our lives. Those here who love you, we would..."
He stopped himself from speaking, but not before he caught the slip of his tongue when he included himself among the people who cared for her more than anything.
At the back of his frazzled mind, Joseph was grateful his mother was upstairs taking a nap, however stubborn she had been in wanting to make sure Emmy was well. But he'd insisted in her resting, not wanting the stress of the fainted woman to overwhelm her and risk compromising her already frail heart.
Despite his verbal stumble, Joseph cleared his throat and continued. Tears stung his eyes as his hands clung onto Emmy's. "Please understand... I mean no disrespect. But, I've already lost my brother...and Mum's health is becoming more fragile than ever. Just the thought of this horrific prophecy befalling you and we were unable to stop it..."
As if to drive the point home, he pulled out the photograph from his shirt pocket again of Emmanuelle on her presumed deathbed. An inner rage boiled within his veins as he absorbed the sight of her motionless form, and he even heard Will inhale a deep breath of equalized anger.
Before either man could say anything, Emmy reached over and took the picture into her shaking hands, her eyes locked on the image of her funeral bier on display.
As though it were death and fate mocking her...
"Emmy, my love..." Will placed a large hand on her shoulder in a concerned fashion. What she said next was unexpected for both men.
"We need to burn this. Joe, hold out your cigarette lighter now." Her voice was low, but contained a tone holding no room for argument. She held out her free hand toward the lieutenant.
"Emmy, I'm not sure if that's wise. What if something happens..." Joseph argued, a creeping dread flowing through his veins as his hand reached into his trousers pocket to pull out his lighter as though on its own accord.
She held out the photograph toward Joseph as he ignited the flame in preparation to set it.
Emmy could feel Will's ever vigilant eyes flitting between the both of them as he spoke up. "Emmanuelle, maybe we need to think this through. For your safety..."
"Will, it's a damn photograph. I'm not gonna let it scare me. I have an actual monster waiting for me back home, in case you forgot!" She turned to face him, regret immediately seeping into her heart with the rise of her temper.
Before anything could be protested further, she set the picture aflame, the edges of the photograph immediately incinerating the image that would nonetheless haunt both men the rest of their days: the woman they both loved lying presumably dead.
Emmy held the photograph carefully in her fingers as she went to the fireplace and placed it into the ashes, embers floating in the air of the hearth as the fire consumed the whole image.
William went to her side as she turned away from the fireplace and up into his eyes. A surge of pride provided him with an extra ounce of energy as she placed her hands on his broad shoulders. His hands were about her waist as he bent down to kiss her sweet lips, however shaken he was by the photograph, he was all relieved to see her up and about and taking agency for her own fate.
He rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closing as he murmured to his love. "Your strength continues to leave me without words, my angel."
"Thank you for understanding, Will. That's all I can ask for." She whispered, standing on her tiptoes to embrace him. "The only one who controls my fate is me, and you can't argue with that."
Emmy's chin was on his shoulder as they hugged one another, and she caught sight of Joseph locking eyes with her. The sadness and anxiety in his gaze made Emmy want to apologize immensely for her dismissal of his concern for her wellbeing.
As if he sensed what she was thinking, Will released her from his arms and they both turned to face the ebony haired man. Emmy quickly walked to Joe despite her throbbing limp from her healing ankle and he immediately caught her against his chest as her arms went around her friend. He grumbled deeply to her. "You're a goddamn pain in my neck, you know, Emmy?"
Immediately, he felt Will's eyes burning a hole in the back of his head as he said those words to her, not appreciating the notion of his sweetheart being insulted. But she knew he only spoke such a phrase about her in teasing humor.
Although they both knew he meant it in jest, Joe choked back a sob, wrapping her into his arms, battling the urge to scoop her up and carry her out the door to the surgery like he swore he would if she presented any signs of feeling sickly.
But that would only make her angrier at him than she had been before.
Joe lifted Emmy off her feet, her toes dangling several inches off the wooden floor and she laughed in delight at being in her friend's arms. "I know I can be a real bitch sometimes, Joseph. But you need to understand that you or Will can't save me from everything."
Her voice held a serious pitch of tone as he placed her back on the floor, his hands holding her upper arms in a gentle grip. "But, dearest one..."
He tried to argue, however pointless it was, knowing she was right.
"My time here is limited and I don't want to spend it arguing and fighting. Whatever happens, I'll find a way to come back here, to those I care about most. Including you." She reached up and placed a soft kiss on his stubble roughened cheek.
He sniffled, looking down into her glittering green eyes.
She couldn't die... she just couldn't. She was so full of spirit and goodness and wonder... That fire inside her that he adored, he would die as well if it was quenched within her.
But he had no choice but to believe her words of promise.
She smiled with her brilliant white grin and Joseph Blake knew he was done for. He watched her find herself back in the arms of her Corporal, barely listening to their conversation about her wanting to go back to the Schofields' home and resting some more, and other things about Molly taking her to the milliners' for clothes tomorrow in the village.
Will embraced her, holding Emmy lovingly to his chest. As she snuggled into his shirt, the corporal looked to the lieutenant over the top of her head, their eyes meeting one another in a silent gaze. Without speaking verbally, Joe could tell by the younger man's darkened expression that he was equally worried about the fate of the woman at the center of their hearts.
Joe knew what would be his final living thought should he fall in action after he inevitably returned back to France. They were so simple, yet they were what kept him from collapsing to his knees in defeat in the embracing lovers' presence.
Emmanuelle... I love you.
.
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April 6th, 2020
Erik dreamt of his inevitable plan coming into place as he dozed off, looking out the plane window over the ocean of his first class flight back to the States.
Of how he would finally go through with his plan to make Emmanuelle Hunterson his. For many months, he had bided his time in seeing if she would come around in his pursuit of her. Possessing her body for a few moments at a time was never enough for him...
He desired everything from her... her smile, her laugh, her crimson blooded blush and diamond tears...
He would possess her heart most of all, even if he had to carve it out of her, dripping scarlet and still beating...
He had been willing to give her more time to consider being his, especially after she had left on her trip to London. To give her one last breath of freedom before trapping her in a gilded cage of luxury...
But everything had changed when he had seen her at the war museum and the picture of her lookalike in a wedding dress now in his hands...
He leaned back in his airline seat and closed his eyes, a smile creeping onto his lips as the photo lay in his hands, his fingers gripping it tightly enough to leave a few paper-cuts on his fingers.
It would be so simple, yet the greatest triumph to satisfy the predator residing in his blackened soul.
And he dreamed on about his plan, his homecoming gift to her...
In his vision, he waited in the darkness of her silent apartment, having paid her landlady to have the key to her front door copied for him as her "soon-to-be fiancé", listening quietly in the small hallway as she showered and prepared for bed.
He reached in his pocket, feeling for the syringe containing the drug that would keep her subdued for hours. Having already used the predictable method of placing rohypnol into her wine, he knew the needle was the most efficient way to sedate her...
Although he loathed the idea of pricking her fair, creamy skin, needs must if he were to successfully take away his sleeping beauty with no resistance from her...
He watched the crack of her closed bedroom door, the light going out to signal she had gone to bed, ever naïve and unaware of his presence.
Ever unaware that he was always watching...
He listened to her sigh and roll around, trying to get comfortable, the springs inside her aging mattress squeaking. A smirk came to his lips... Soon, she would be slumbering, bundled amidst the most expensive Egyptian silk thread sheets and cushions for her to sink into.
A bed fit for an empress, their home to be her palace.
Erik held his breath, fingering the syringe as he pulled it out of his pocket, placing his hand on the doorknob of her room. He turned the brass knob and slowly the door opened, no sound cracking through the air from the door's hinges.
In the darkness, he saw his prey, lying on her side with her back to him, so serene as she slept innocently in the moonlight.
He stepped toward her bedside, prowling across the floor with the stealth of a wildcat about to pounce on the delicate gazelle.
He hovered over his lovely emerald, his looming shadow a silent demon signifying his fantasy to be her nightmare of Hell, his hand reaching down to tenderly remove some of her soft hair from covering her cheek and neck. So he could see the main vein on the side of her throat where he aimed to insert the syringe needle...
Erik removed any sentiment from his mind as he coldly plunged the needle's icy point into her translucent, beautiful skin. Expecting her to panic at the sudden rude awakening, he placed his hand over her mouth, using his free arm to hold her down onto the bed so she would make as little noise as possible.
Emmy grunted and attempted to scream, but Erik could tell the drug was already making its way through her system, seeping into her veins like poison. Her petite body had no hopes in pushing off his large, hulking form. Her eyes became glazed with the anesthetic flowing inside her and his huge hand cutting off her air supply.
Her breaths against his hand over her mouth made the sadist inside him chuckle in amusement as he softly made shushing noises in an mocking attempt to soothe her, raising his hand to stroke her hair away from her face.
"Shh... hush now. Be a good girl and don't fight me. You're mine now, sweet Emmy."
He could see the terror in her eyes, just a split second of a glinting shine in the tears that managed to flow down her cheeks before her eyelids closed.
He removed his hand from obstructing her nostrils, allowing her to inhale oxygen as she began to calm her breathing and she slipped into unconsciousness. She exhaled steady breaths from her mouth against his palm as Erik carefully lifted his hand from clamping her lips shut.
He studied her with the intensity of an obsessive artist staring at a classical painting, deciphering in her features to make sure she was asleep. He placed two of his fingers to her throat where he had impaled her with the needle. Her pulse was normal and her breathing was still at the same tranquil rate he remembered while watching her sleep before...
His fingers ran through her ribbon sashes of hair cascading along her wrinkled pillowcase. He whispered a spoken lullaby to her, hoping she could hear him as her conscious mind swirled in the whirlpool depths of drugged oblivion. "Time for you to sleep in your new home, my little Schatzi."
Sweet Emmy remained motionless and impassive to his words, her stomach rising with her peaceful breathing.
With a hefty sigh, Erik reached into his other pocket as he placed back the syringe, making sure there was enough liquid inside for one more dose in case she woke up before she was expected to. Its potency was supposed to be strong enough to keep her subdued for hours.
But, she was a fiery one... and he had to be prepared for any tricks she had up her feisty sleeve for he knew she wouldn't surrender herself to him easily.
After replacing the syringe in his trousers pocket, he pulled out some thick black strips of cloth from his jacket front pocket. Although she would be asleep for awhile, he had to take precautions and tie her up, at least while he traveled with her tonight...
Should he ever need them in the future after taking her away would depend on her behavior.
Erik started with wrapping one of the cloths around her tiny ankles, his fingers taking his time in feeling the bare flesh of her pretty legs. He tied a firm knot, for Erik knew he had to be thorough in his abducting her, leaving her with no chance of escape.
He tied next her hands, binding them together by the wrists in front of her chest. It would be easier for him to move her if she had her hands in front rather than behind her back. She was fragile and he wouldn't let her breakable bones shatter or a muscle be in spasm from discomfort. He made sure the knot was double tied for extra measure.
Then, her delicious mouth was next. How he hated to cover the sight of her candy lips, but he had to keep her silenced at least temporarily should she come to and begin screaming in panicked hysteria. He slid the cloth between her lips straight into her mouth, her teeth reflexively biting it into place on her tongue as he tied a double knot at the back of her head. And for extra insurance, he tied a black bandana around the lower half of her face, completely covering her mouth and chin to where any sound she made would be muffled, but just below her nose to make sure she could still breathe properly.
He sighed to himself in insane internal pleasure as he took a moment to admire his work. Seeing Emmanuelle completely bound and gagged and drugged made him just want to just sit on the bed for hours and hold her and stare at her and touch her...
But there would be time for that later, once they were home and she was in their bed.
Lastly, he placed one more cloth strip over her eyelids, blindfolding her. He couldn't risk her waking and seeing where they were on the way to their destination.
He made sure to triple check the knots were tight as possible in binding her. Especially the sashes tied over her mouth and around her wrists.
Erik gathered her up in his arms off the bed. Reveling in how light she was against him, he looked over his work on the woman completely helpless and at his mercy. Her hands rested on her stomach with her tied wrists. The bindings would probably leave red marks on her skin, but that was the least of his worries.
His eyes moved from her hands to the way her beautiful white throat graced his sight and her lovely head hung limp over his arm, her long hair spilling down toward the floor. Her breathing remained in the same pattern as though she were sleeping normal and undisturbed. He leaned down and pressed a bruising kiss on the column of her neck, his chest vibrating with a deep animalistic growl like an animal claiming his mate, his teeth nipping at her skin, branding her as belonging to him...
And she slept on without a care in the world, like she knew not of the monster from her nightmares that captured her in his steel-like arms with the resilience of prison bars.
He was carefully gleeful in his triumph, silently carrying her out of the room, her head and neck dangling in the air as though she were dead, his own Snow White to rest in her glass coffin. A beast of nature absconding with his kill, the instinct only to keep her for himself driving him to hurry as he vanished like a phantom in the night...
He drove his car with Emmy in the passenger seat, which was reclined for her to lie down as she slept on in a merciful sea of anesthesia. She was still blindfolded and gagged and Erik smiled to himself at the glorious sight of such vulnerability.
He drove for what felt like a never-ending eternity, glancing down at his little one for signs of her awakening. She remained still for the time being...then he found himself pulling into the drive of his penthouse, and she turned her head on the seat's headrest.
She groaned and moaned in her disorientated state, not seeming to realize her mouth was restrained and her eyes were covered.
Thinking quickly, Erik put the car in park and reached again for the syringe. This time, he held down her arm, aiming the needle for the inside of her elbow where her veins were right underneath her skin. She cried out through the gags at the needle's painful stab, but relaxed within seconds as the drug did its work faithfully.
Erik stroked her tangled hair as he removed the blindfold from over her closed eyelids, not needing use of it for now since they'd successfully arrived at his home. His fingertips petted her eyelashes resting upon her face. He cooed softly to her, his voice an eerie sentiment of welcome. "You must sleep longer, my little jewel. You'll need your rest so you can see your new home."
She didn't move any longer, under sedation again as Erik climbed out of the car and went to the passenger's side. He opened the door and unbuckled the seat belt around the tiny brunette woman, carefully taking her back into his arms, her weight ever so light despite the many restraints tied around her body. He glanced down at her sleeping form, noting her loose t-shirt and ratty pajama pants clad about her lovely limbs...
Soon, she would have nothing but the best designer clothes fit for a prized lady such as she... and sensual lingerie to ever tempt him like the venomous vixen she was...
He carried her into the house, ever so dutifully like a newlywed groom taking his bride over the threshold. He took his time, carrying her limp body through the house, leaving her head and neck to hang carelessly in the air, like the fainted heroines in the horror films he grew up with, helpless in the arms of the titular beasts intending to claim their beauty and purity... and he walked with slow steps toward the staircase and up to his...their...bedroom.
Focusing on only the massive king sized bed in the room, he strode toward it. He lowered Emmy down into the center of the mattress, exhaling a deep breath of relief as he released her from his arms. The satin scarlet comforter and matching pillows stuffed with feather down immediately absorbed her small body as she relaxed into the bed, her head sinking down into the large pillow that cushioned her, long brown hair flowing around her head like rays from the sun in the sky.
The visual was enough to commission a portrait, a fair-skinned angel floating and bathing in an ocean of thick blood as she was sucked down into its viscous depths ...
Erik crawled over to her to remove her restraints, starting with the gags around her mouth. Slowly he removed the bandana from her face, untying it from around her jaw. He saw that a few pressure marks were left on her cheeks, but they would fade with time. Then, he gently released the other gag from between her lips, pulling it out as she suddenly inhaled with her mouth having access to breathing again.
He tensed over her, ready to see if she had been startled awake. His body relaxed as she only exhaled and became unmoving again, her head slightly turning to the side on the pillow. Erik reached down and removed a couple loose strands of her hair that had fallen into her mouth, pulling them back out to rest on the pillow. His fingers wiped the trailing saliva from her cheek...
His lovely emerald released a small moan, her tongue wetting her lips as she sank back into slumber. Such a good girl, she was...
Almost forgetting about her other bindings, he went to work untying her wrists, displeased at the sight of rope burns staining her gorgeous skin. Thankfully, her ankles were spared, seeing them free of markings or blisters as he unbound her bare feet.
She would sleep for many more hours; he had administered to her all the liquid contained in that syringe. But he could always get more, along with chloroform and sedatives to incapacitate her if she ever got out of control...if he felt she would need to sleep on any bad manners or disobeying his rules...
He situated her hair to pool in a divine halo around her face as she rested on the large pillow and he pulled the thick satin bloodstain sheets around her small form, placing her arms to her sides so she was completely covered up to her chin where only her head and hair were visible. She was nearly buried in an ocean of the finest, softest fabrics money could buy, swaddled in silk, cotton, velvet and the warmest animal furs.
Erik maneuvered the many comforters and sheets over Emmy in a way that she was cocooned tightly in her spot and had limited movement in the bed. And she slept and slept... and breathed in and out... in and out...
She nary stirred or made a sound...
Erik smiled widely with a shark-like grin as he crawled back onto the bed toward his prey. He reached over and pulled a cord off to the side and down came a thin black gossamer canopy surrounding the bed and blurring away the room around him. The same material fit for a bride...
He lay down beside her above the covers, resting his head next to hers on the same pillow. So close, he was... longing to join her inert body underneath the silk and weld her to his side...
Erik's fingers made their way to her face, caressing her chin, her jaw-line, his goddess sculpted by the Muses... He peeled away a few inches of the sheet where her neck graced his view; his index finger stroking down the length of her throat... How easily one firm squeeze of his hand could crush her larynx...
His sweet elegant swan... How effortlessly she complimented the splendid décor of his bed.
A little porcelain doll he had to preserve in her box...
His fingers continued their worship along her cheeks, her lips, her hair... anywhere he wanted.
As the line began to blur for Erik between dream and reality, he recalled the nursery rhyme he'd learned from childhood, called The Spider and the Fly.
He murmured a few verses into her mahogany curls, nuzzling Emmy's blossom cheek with his nose, closing his eyes in insanity fueled delight.
*"'Will you rest upon my little bed?' said the Spider to the Fly
'There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin.
And if you'd like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!'"
Erik paused, readjusting the sheets back up to Emmy's chin. His fingers clutched her jaw, turning her head on the pillow to where her still dozing face was mere centimeters from his, the tip of his nose touching hers as his talking progressed into a quietly spine-chilling serenade as she lay blissfully unaware of the evil incarnate uninvitingly groping and fondling her, the sinister nature of the lyrics of his lullaby flowing into his deepening voice, his breath violating her temptingly open lips.
"'Oh no, no!' said the little Fly, 'For I've often heard it said
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.'"
He sighed in content as he marveled to her stunning comatose features, like God created her straight from the pages of a Brothers Grimm fairytale.
Skin white as snow, lips red as blood...
His fingers traced along the edges of her welcoming mouth, itching to touch the forbidden fruit of her wet pink tongue and taste her exquisite flavors...
He smiled so widely, his face ached, the parallels in the poem overcoming his senses.
Like his arachnid counterpart, he reveled over catching his prey...but she was more than any pest of a housefly, coiled in her own chrysalis, enveloped in his silken bed-sheets, and he would clip her wings if it meant she could never soar away from him.
Emmanuelle, his rosy-cheeked gem, was his precious butterfly in the center of his web...
AN:*The poem "Spider and the Fly" is by Mary Howitt, published in 1829.