Bound

Chapter Ten

Her head hurt.   It throbbed as if she'd been drinking.   Mouth cottony dry, she moved to turn over in her bed.   Something was wrong.    It was like her blankets were gathered around her or something, she couldn't move. Brianna's eyes popped open and she saw dark.   Everything was black,  the bed on which she lay, the sparse table in one corner, even the rug on the dark oak polished floor.     She tried to struggle to a sitting position, horror filling her as she realized it wasn't bedding holding her in place.  It was rope.   

 Her hands were bound behind her and her feet tied tightly together.   This had to be a dream, a terrible dream she gasped, trying to wake up.   The lone light in the windowless room was a small table lamp and it cast a feeble glow in the darkness.  Panic took over and she flopped uselessly, fighting the ties in a desperate attempt to free herself.   The rope tightened with each struggle, digging into delicate skin cruelly.   

She screamed for help, hoping this was some crazy joke.   Her cries reverberated around the room but no salvation came.   Fighting back tears she lay there, trying to assess her situation.  How had this even happened, she had locked her doors, purposefully didn't attract unwanted attention, or so she thought.   

Just then a speaker somewhere in the room hummed to life.   A smooth, disembodied voice spoke. "Ah, awake at last are we?  It is better for you to learn immediately that your life, as you knew it, is over.  Struggle is pointless.    The sooner you accept this, the sooner you shall be free, truly free.   Your behavior will dictate your treatment.  Behave like a good girl you will earn privileges."

Brianna screamed.  Her heart thundered in fear.  The voice in the dark, so smooth, so silky, sounded very familiar.   She turned her face into the pillow and cried.  What did this mean?  Why oh why had she been such a fool!   The voice, it was the voice of the one person she could never have thought this of....Gareth Viscardi.

In the control room in his office he watched the closed circuit camera.   This, he mused, was the best part.   The awakening, the realization that he was not who he'd seemed.  He'd seen her stiffen when he began to speak, saw the recognition.   Baring sharp teeth he laughed in amusement.   He'd shown her the light, the beauty, the glitter of his life, and taken it away brutally.    Now she would begin her training and he smiled with anticipation.   

Turning from the camera he strode from the room, locking his office behind him.   The advent of powerful drugs made his life so much more easy he thought.  It had been so easy to drug her, bind her and take her away in the night, now he had her and he could barely wait to begin.  But first, he had to see to his own needs, then the fun could really begin.    He descended polished black marble stairs to the lower level of the home, built like a fortress in the trees.  It was surrounded by miles of forest, and beyond that ten foot tall smooth stone walls, topped with electrified iron spikes.   In this, his true home, he'd spared no expense, left no stone unturned.

That was what happened when you had as many years as he had to plan and all the funds you could ever want to do so.   He stepped out into the waning night and left the property.  One thing he needed she could not provide him, not yet, anyways.  Setting the sophisticated alarm system he was gone in the night, his car winding soundlessly down the mountain road to the gate a mile away...