Tu Fui, Ego Eris

“'But I don’t want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.

‘ Oh, you can’t help that,' said the Cat. 'We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.'

‘How do you know I’m mad?' said Alice.

'You must be,” said the Cat. 'or you wouldn’t have come here…'”

-Lewis Carroll

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Chapter 1: Nec Mortem Effugere Quisquam Nec Amorem Potest

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"Ugo is no more, I am the original..."

Those were the last words Fiona heard as she fainted to the ground. It was all just too much, her parents killed, the man who did it right before her. He, and her father, apparently clones of some long dead alchemist from over nine hundred years ago. Now he was after her, and well, it was all just too much.

She never even remembered hitting the ground, didn't feel as he scooped her up in his arms and easily carried her away. Neither did she hear him announce his lewd plans to her, that she was to "give birth to me all over again..." Had Fiona heard it, had she been aware, she would have struggled in his soothing, almost relaxing arms. Instead, she was limp and like a doll, like an innocent animal caught by it's master. One that had strayed too far and had to be taken home. In many ways, that's what she was now, a pet to it's owner.

And he had finally got her; in a stalemate, cornering her on that cliff. She made her move; and he made his, and closed in.

Checkmate.

Riccardo, whose full name was Aureolus Riccardo Belli, carried her back through the forest. He was satisfied, happy even. She was a rather light girl, this was the third time already he had to carry her somewhere. He actually took a sort of joy from it, with her head resting against his chest as he walked. There was something about her that drew him like a moth to a flame. He knew what he wanted from the girl the moment Lorenzo informed him of the plan for her capture. But he found himself taking pity on Fiona, something he was not particularly known for. He gave her far more leeway in the chase than he ever intended too, perhaps too much.

When he found the girl in the extraction room...Somewhere where she wasn't supposed to be...he hurriedly tried to get her to come with him. When she refused, and in fact, claimed she wanted to go "home", he was enraged. All this work to bring her to the castle, all the fawning, care, and attention he paid the girl had gone unappreciated. He pulled out his pistol, prepared to threaten her. But before he could, she slunk away and past him, leading him on a chase throughout the mansion, and into the Chaos forest. He certainly never intended to kill the girl, though he would admit the temptation was strong. If he hit her, and disabled Fiona, he could always heal her later. As long as he could get a hold of her, that's all that mattered for the moment. Like a crazed animal after prey, even a tame dog would give chase when something runs from it. Especially something as tempting as her.

He found her again in the forest. Riccardo knew he could never get a hold of her with the dog there, and felt if best to be rid of the troublesome beast once and for all. Still, he didn't want to kill the animal, he was still useful for the extraction of his blood. Fiona also had a sort of connection to the creature, and killing the dog may hinder her view of him even more, making her harder to catch and handle. It didn't matter in the end, however, as it seemed that revealing his face had triggered the memory that made her realize that he had killed her parents, and was more than enough to make her hate him for eternity. Regardless, he would have to deal with it. He simply couldn't resist the temptation to let her know who he really was...See the look in her face of absolute revelation. It was delicious.

When Fiona found out how to open the door, which he still couldn't understand how she did that, he slunk away behind her and made his way into the forest. He closely followed her, going into a well-known path of his own into the woods. Unlike her, he knew it like the back of his hand. He found a spot to watch her, crouching down and having the gun ready to jump her when she was unaware. To his shock, the dog suddenly bolted into the wood in front of him. Before he could even kick, hit, or yell the dog away, it lunged towards him, taking his left arm in it's grasp.

Blindly, in part in rage and part in desperation, he fired at the animal. The shot ran in the air louder then any others he had fired that night. He winced as the dog screamed loudly, releasing it's hold and running off in pain. Riccardo decided to let the creature go; he was no longer in his way, no longer a concern. He figured he would swing by and get the mutt later. He could be used for leverage.

Riccardo told Fiona of the reason why she was here, although he did not go into great details as to his exact plans. Although he never expected her to faint out of shock, it didn't shock him either. The poor thing seemed to fall at any hint of surprise. But it certainly made things easier, he had planned to lead her back at gunpoint. With the hammer down of course, he couldn't afford to lose her now. So much rode on her, on her fate, on their future. Together.

Yet, things had gone in his favor, and now he had little to worry about as he carried the new Lady of the castle back into the mansion, her fleeing all for naught. He carried her back to his lab, a room with the door wide open since their last encounter. Because she threw, oddly enough, a bottle of vinegar at him. It did little but titillate and amuse him, and make him smell like salad dressing for the rest of the night. Silly girl.

As Riccardo entered the room, he blanched a bit at the bright light, which was positioned above the examination table. The room itself was the cleanest room in the home. Though, for a lab, one might expect a bit more sterility. He agreed that it was long overdue for a good scrub-down, he would have to get Daniella back in here, as soon as he could find her, anyway. Ever since he began his search for Lorenzo in the mansion, he hadn't seen her for a good while. He merely assumed she was hard at work making dinner for his Fiona, or at least tending to her every need as he ordered of her. Now, however, he couldn't say he knew where she was.

The room was used, typically, to examine the homunculi created at the mansion. None, of course, deemed successful creations. They were worthless, mindless, and of course, without Azoth, or at least the proper amount of it. They were allowed to live until they were examined, than destroyed. Essentially, they were kept to see what they could and could not do. To learn, basically, what mistakes were made and what could be improved. Some were allowed to live longer than others, most were killed several days after creation.

Regardless, that was all useless now. He had Fiona, and now he had to focus on her. He placed her on the table, hoping the bright light wouldn't wake her up. It didn't, and she slept soundly. Quickly closing and locking the door, he wanted to be sure there was no escape present. He was sick of getting the run-around. With that, he than decided it was best to get to work. He wanted to be sure to get done before she woke, it would be easier and less troublesome. Chances were she would not stay still during the invasive exam.

One of the drawers contained a medical gown, blood stained, but still usable. Putting it aside, he loomed over the unconscious Fiona, a small smile spreading across his face. He knew what was to come next. In order to exam the woman, he had to undress her, a task he had actually been looking forward to again for some time.

When he first pulled her from the wreck, he got her back to the castle and placed her on the bed. Almost like he was savoring the moment, he undressed her for the first time. Not caring if he ripped or tore at the clothing, she would never wear such an outfit again, it would be incinerated in the furnace, he would do it personally. He wanted to eliminate any and all traces of her former life, give herself totally and completely to him in every facet. She would now only wear what he purchased for her. Be dependent, absolutely, in him.

After that, he gently rolled her over, looking on the back of her left shoulder. There is was, exactly what he was searching for. The same scar him and every clone of Aureolus Belli possessed, and was a sure-fire sign that she possessed his Azoth. He smiled to himself in triumph, yes, this was her alright, this was their child, and she was now his by right.

Still, he didn't want to invade her privacy too much, yet. So he only gently spread her legs up and to the side, but did not touch her inappropriately. He wanted to savor the moment he finally had her for himself. Not to mention how busy he was at the moment. From his pocket he pulled a digital thermometer, one of the few things electronic around this place, and a small metal rod that was encased in a packet to keep it sterile. He then gently pushed the thermometer into her.

As he waited, he registered the look on her face. It was only slightly invasive, and she made no movement or expression to implicate there was anything occurring. It beeped, and he pulled it out. It was too low, which meant she wasn't ovulating yet. He then inserted the rod quickly, detracted it, and came up with similar results. The mucus was sticky, not implicative of a egg-producing uterus. He would have to check again tomorrow night to see if there was a change. Until then, he wrapped the bed's silky sheet around her and left her there until she woke up.

Now, he reached down, originally planning to begin the undressing, but instead found himself running his hand along her face. Gently, he caressed her cheek, her soft skin felt wonderful on his calloused fingers. A deep affection filled him, and he knew now that this was right. Fiona was his to love and care for, and to birth his newest incarnations. He could now almost feel himself inside her, thrusting between those soft, ivory legs. Still, he wasn't naive, and knew that it would take time for her to start saying his name while he pleasured her. But she would, that he was sure of. He had a few woman in the past, though it was rare and few between. Still, he always left them satisfied.

His isolation in the castle meant little interaction to the outside world. He would take monthly trips to the local grocery and hardware stores to acquire new machinery and supplies. And in those instances he would sometimes meet woman, and although he's had many one-night stands, he never made any attempt to make contact with anyone afterwards, feeling uncomfortable. His appearance didn't help either, always wearing a hood or hat in public to obscure the scars on his face. He preferred the life of solitude, though he knew now that was all about to change.

Creeping underneath Fiona's hair, he gently removed the band that kept her hair up. It fell, gently, down onto the table behind her shoulders. He definitely preferred her this way, and might ask for it to be kept like that from now on. Next came the boots, they were unzipped, the stockings removed. He ran his hand up from her fleshy pink toes up along the inside of her legs, to her skirt, but stopped.

"That will come later..." He thought to himself.

He moved to take off the skirt, part of the outfit that was literally tailor made to fit her. Riccardo remembered finding out about Fiona, learning about the girl before he kidnapped her. He received her height and weight, and made an educated guess of her dimensions. Having it made specifically for her, and he spared no expense in preparing a beautiful medieval dress that was one of a kind, just for her.

But now, it was more of a hindrance, and he needed it off instead of on. Slowly, he edged it off her slender hips, and down her legs. He had such an urge to take her then and there. Yet, he steadied himself, realizing that trying anything now might wake her, and ruin the exam. He took this time to check for bruises, anything that would indicate severe injuries withstood from her stay at the castle, or even him. There were a few, but nothing that looked too painful or debilitating.

His hands ran along her sides and up her shirt, trying to be fast and remain professional. He lifted her up slightly, and untied the lace on the back. With that, her shirt came off over her head rather swift, trying his best to overt attention from her breasts, as he knew if he became too intrigued he would be there all night. Still, he found time to run a hand over her large, voluptuous breasts, rubbing a finger against an already erect nipple. He let out a small moan, but pulled away, the quicker this was done, the faster he could get to that when the time came.

"Later".. he thought to himself again. "Just wait until later, my dear..."

The fully undressed Fiona lay, naked, on the examination table. Riccardo gathered the clothing, folding it up neatly and laying it upon a nearby shelf. He decided to exam her fully, first, her whole body. As far as he could assume, she had been through a lot in the castle, and any number of things could have befell her. For all he knew that vicious animal could have bitten her as well. Carefully, he crept over her naked form. Trying not to stare too hard in fear of letting his body get the best of him. He wasn't a terribly fertile man; and had to be careful when he made love to her that it would count. If he attempted with her now, and it wasn't time, his next attempt would lower his chances significantly of impregnating her. It would take some time for his count to go up.

Gently, his hand glided over her face, the took her head in both hands and softly rolled it side to side, making sure she wasn't hurt or had any visible blemishes on the most innocent part of her anatomy. Then he made his way down her neck, chest, stomach, and was about to wrap it up when he saw a few on her rather flat belly. Just a few cuts, caused by some unknown sharp object. He wasn't sure what it could have been. There must have been a broken window or pointy rock somewhere about the estate. Making a concerned "hmp" noise in his throat, he moved over to the counter. There, he acquired a small bottle of ethanol, which they had gallons of for many a use. Disinfecting was one of the primary ones.

A cotton ball was acquired from a nearby cabinet, with care he dabbed it with the ethanol, turning it upside down and moistening it to a certain degree. He leaned over the woman; and tapped the wounds carefully. They were small, but the last thing he needed in his newly captured maiden was an infection; especially in that particular part of her anatomy. He heard her make a slight, sharp, sound of pain. His head jerked in that direction, afraid he had woken her. But no; she stayed out. It still must have stung terribly.

Finishing up, he began to fantasize over her flat, pale stomach. He knew that when he got done with her, she would never have such a wonderfully tight body. Though he had to admit he rather liked the concept of a svelte, sinuous woman as his own. Regardless, her body would be fat and healthy when he impregnated her. He would make absolutely sure of this. Already his imagination run with ideas and concepts of what to do with her when he got the chance, and of finally having an heir. He knew he shouldn't be getting too happy or excited yet, but with the woman right before him, how could he help himself?

Then as he examined her right side, he saw a rather startling observation. It was a thin, yet noticeable gash that ran from below her ribcage to her hip. Again, it looked to have been made by a sharp object. Except, this didn't appear like and accidental fall. It wasn't bleeding at all anymore, but it was open and looked painful. Once again, he dabbed up another cotton ball, and again, she made a sound of slight pain as the wound sizzled and popped at the amount of obvious bacteria being killed. Yet as he examined it closer under the bright light, he knew that wouldn't be enough. It had to be closed.

Although this wasn’t the point of the exam, it was steadily becoming more about her needs then his. Still, she was important to him. Though reckless of her well being, he genuinely cared about her, and wanted her safe and sound. The safer, the healthier, the better. Maybe, he wondered, if she woke up with her wound sown up, wounds tended to, she would treat him a bit better. Be less terrified and know that he had good intentions. Once again he turned to the cabinet and withdrew forceps, a surgical needle and string. There was a slight moment of fear that he would awake her, that he would somehow damage her supple skin and cause her more harm then good. So he hesitated, the needle stopping in midair as it hovered over the wound.

Then in the most delicate of manners; he held the skin up between his thumb and forefingers, and slid it through. He watched her face carefully for a reaction. There was another wince, but it was obvious she was out cold. Maybe a bucket of cold water would have done it, but not this. The skin had been swabbed with the skin-numbing antiseptic, he hoped that would be enough. He tightened the string, pulled it through, then repeated the process. Finally it had been stitched shut, luckily enough it wasn't a very long slice. But it was deep and wide, and the skin had to be pulled together and stretched more then he would have liked. Again he splashed it with the ethanol, making sure it would remain clean. After which, he made another move and acquired a bandage or two for her stomach. Done. He reached up and stroked her face gently, silently praising her for being a good girl.

He again gathered the surgery gown, shaking it out to rid it of any dried blood or other such nastiness. Putting such a hideous thing on such a beautiful creature bothered him. Yet, he knew the woman had to wear something for a few days that would still allow...well, "easy access" so to speak...He stretched it out, took one of her arms and put it through a sleeve, and then repeated the process with the other. Next, he rolled her over ever so slightly, in the process checking her back and buttocks for any other sort of wound, but found nothing, he then tied the lace together in the back. Carefully, he laid her back down again. The last thing he needed was for her to wake up now before the exam even began. He had risked too much as it was.

Turning his back on her, he walked over to some nearby cabinets and shelves. He gathered many instruments, all used for gynecological purposes, purchased within weeks of her arrival. Endocervical speculums, and vaginal speculums and retractors. There were several different types, some that looked like clamps. The difference was that these were used to spread the vaginal cavity or for insertion into the cervix itself, spreading it, and providing better access. He wasn't planning on really using them now, but decided it couldn't hurt to have them on hand. They were thin, looking almost like scissors but with tiny metal protrusions that made it obvious where they were going. Another was the digital internal thermometer, and he was prepared and ready to use it again.

One was the same thin metal rod, no more than six inches in length. They were all placed on a small, sterile table, and wheeled over to the sleeping girl. The items had all been sterilized earlier in preparation for Fiona's arrival. Though fresh and never used, wanted to be sure there would have no contamination whatsoever. He lifted the rod from the table, studying it momentarily. Turning his attention once again back to her, and stood at her feet. He made a noise in his throat, one of amusement. He had to part her legs.

Transferring it to his other hand, he reached to move her legs. Fiona never twitched, never jolted as he made his move. The only movement she made was her hair, falling gently from her shoulders to the table below. With his one free hand, he took her supple ankle, and spread and lifted first one leg, then the other so that her knees were poking up in the air, giving him free and easy access. He was careful not to be too forceful, as any instability might cause her to fall from the table. With such a small instrument he would not need a spreader, he simply needed to get an idea of what her ovarian state was.

With great care, he stooped down and began to insert the rod into her canal. He smiled just a little, he had to admit the view was rather nice, her womanhood just splayed out in front of him for all to see. She couldn't run away now, couldn't scream and cower, she was just a plaything in his hands. Gently, he pushed it in and up, trying to get as much of it inside of her as he could, his hand coming up to the entrance and brushing her tender skin. He heard Fiona make a small noise, and move her head in discomfort, but remained unconscious. Steadily, he poked around inside of her for a small while, trying to get any and all samplings that he could. Really, it was more for registering her vaginal state then her uterine one, but he wanted to be sure. Riccardo tried to be quick, any more poking around make awake his patient, and that would have been more than awkward. He certainly wasn't in the mood to do any more chasing around today.

Slowly, it was then retracted from her body. With care, he studied the tip of the rod under the bright lights. It was covered with a very small amount of clear, sticky mucus. Not appropriate for sperm to really thrive and travel well in. She wasn't ovulating, but that was fine, it wouldn't take long until she would. In fact, tomorrow might very well be another good day to check, or the next day...

"Hmmm...Another two to three days at most." He remarked, a slight tone in his voice of first disappointment, then excitement.

He swung around, placing the rod on the table and taking the thermometer, and inserted that now as well. It also read as being too low of a temperature for eggs to be created. He found himself disappointed, and wished the result had been more in his favor. There was still the fear that she would find a way to exit the castle before he could get his chance. And, of course, because he so wanted the woman in his bed.

In this time, Fiona couldn't become pregnant. He will implant his seed, not tonight, but soon. Although, if he truly wanted to, he could take advantage of the sleeping woman. Riccardo was not above rape, and he knew it. However, he knew that for quite some time, maybe even for the rest of his life, he would have to live with this woman. If she proved useful, and loving, and was a good mother, she would stay. He wanted her to enjoy whatever it was he was to do with her, even if she didn't want to. What joy was making love to a woman if she wasn't awake to feel it? If he raped her, he knew she would never look upon him in any sort of favorable light. Not that she did now, of course, but it wouldn't help.

He set down the thermometer, and decided he had done enough to the poor girl for today. Opening the door, he then walked over to her and scooped her up. There was one locale he was thinking of that would be perfect to keep her in for the time being. It was isolated, it was secure, and he knew it like the back of his hand. It was the water tower in the center of the lake beyond the Chaos forest, which in the past had been used in the process of using water to refine alchemical formulations. And it was still being used to collect and store the water for the entire estate. It pooled it from the lake, and suctioned it throughout the property using a complex series of pipes. It was the second oldest building in the whole estate, the House Of Truth being the first. After it was the mansion, and the most recent being Belli Castle itself.

It also contained a marvelous scale model of a planetarium, which when activated, triggered the mechanism to lower the stairs to the top of the tower. The idea behind this was to allow access to the stars themselves, which were easy to see from up there. And because it required two people to activate it, it was a sort of way to get the current clone and his creation to work together. When he and Ugo were younger and on speaking terms, this was often a fun activity for them to pass the time. Lorenzo would often be pissed at them for being gone for so long, and being so far away from the current residence.

And if she were to somehow get away, there was only one entrance she could gain access to. Which was inescapable considering it was surrounded by a lake and the viaduct had long been out of commission. There would be nowhere to run. He would often escape to the place if the old man would get to him, if the level of stress sometimes suffered in this place was too much for him to handle. He would never be bothered there, even the maid didn't know the secret underground tunnel used to get there. Which of course meant the place was filthy, but nevertheless, it was like his own personal lair.

There couldn't quite possibly be a better place to keep her for the next couple days.

As much as he enjoyed chasing her, he was also growing tired. He was a middle-aged man after all, not as young as he used to be. Even he had grown tired. Once during running her through the mansion, he had to stop and take a seat in the decomposer room for a moment and catch his breath. He swore he didn't know where the woman got such energy. For some reason she had yet to be run down or grow tired from the pursuit. Such a vibrant young lady, he was sure she would make him a spectacular Lady. If troublesome and uncooperative. Regardless, he was finished in his chase. Now she was his, and so would she remain.

One could reach it by a series of underground tunnels. They were hard to reach, secret to only Lorenzo and himself, and required one to know the exact location and posses the right key. Fiona would never in her most wild of dreams would ever have been able to find it. He swore that there were some that even he didn't know, but his old man did, and this was why he still couldn't find the frail, worthless cretin to this very day.

Carefully, he walked out the door again with Fiona in his arms. He was so glad to no longer have that beast of a dog badgering him, and now was able to do as he wished. Right now, he didn't know if he could afford to lose her again. Another chase might leave him in the dust. He made his way to the last cell in the large and long hallway that connected this part of the castle to the spiral walkway. A long time ago they were used to hold large animals for alchemical experiments and resource gathering. Such experiments had either since ceased or were finished. And now such resources could be gathered from much smaller animals such as dogs.

He leaned against the bars, which held Fiona temporarily between them and his body, and gathered a key from a pocket at the top of his pants. With the free hand he unlocked the door, ducked down, and managed to enter the old foul-smelling cell. He remembered such a smell that was even stronger in his youth, but being such a small hell-raiser he could care less. Riccardo wrinkled his nose at the horrid scent of what must have been some sort of pig or farm animal from over a hundred years back that still remained, but stood up, still with the girl in his grasp. The wall on the far side was bare, and this was for a reason. He walked closer and stood right next to it. To ensure it wasn't opened by mistake or on it's own, there had to be a switch pulled. He lent forward and pulled down a normally unnoticeable votive lamp that protruded from the wall. This would trigger the internal mechanism, but only so it could be unlocked.

No, it would only open when he stood before it. The bare, dark brown wall was noticeable for a reason. A sort of static-like, grainy "noise" arose from the wall, and from the general area about him. He felt a sharp pain from his left shoulder and knew that his scar was illuminating and glowing underneath his clothes. He heard Fiona groan just a little, and looked down to see her wince in her sleep. If he could see it from here, he knew hers was doing the exact same thing. Just as when Ugo and himself were children, he remembered they would both sort of laugh about it, and push each other back and forth as they saw it happening to the other, even comparing it to one another to see which glowed the brightest. To them it was all so fascinating and magical. He smiled just a little in memory, but it was fleeting. The wall illuminated in the same scar pattern, then faded, and the wall split in half and separated like a door, and the passageway was open.

Due to a formula that had been developed many hundreds of years ago, these torches always stayed lit and burning bright. They were soaked in it, far more effective then oil. He began to walk down the hallway which had many, many steps and was held together in some places by a fully stone arch interior or just simple tresses. It was going to be a long, long walk. And he would have to do it all over again twice to also get that mutt of a dog.

Already he was contemplating leaving the creature to die out in the wilderness. Yet he looked at the fair woman in his arms, and for the first time felt a pang of...A pang of what? He couldn't quite place it. Emotion was a strange beast to him, one that he couldn't even read half the time. Still, although he couldn't understand it, he followed it, and subsequently kept his silent promise to the limp girl in his arms. Because right now, it was the only thing shared between them. He would make positive it would not remain this way for long.

---

Several hours later and he had finally arrived at his destination. He had passed under the lake itself, which was a bit scary as the water was literally drip-dripping down from the ceiling of the tunnel in very loud splashes. It was built safe and carefully by some of the most experienced and professional builders at the time. The whole castle was.

He found the old and rusty door that hadn't been used in months. It was always hard to open and required a good grip and a leaning shoulder. But he did both simultaneously, grunting from the exertion and popping it open again. He passed through the bathroom, now ignoring the unlocked door to the pump room on the right, and continued through to the other door and arrived at his desired destination. He knew where he wanted Fiona, but right now it hadn't been ready. The cell in the next room would have to do. He wasn't happy about it, it was nowhere near as secure as the place he was intending for her to be.

But it would take some time to ready. He had been working on it for a good week before her arrival. It was the only place in the estate his father couldn't venture and snoop into his private affairs. No, he was planning to keep her alive, not to hand her over as was expected of him. He had to do so in secret lest his secret plan be jeopardized. It would have to remain so until the last minute or he would have been suspected. Only Lorenzo knew the exact details of where Ugo would be that particular night and didn't inform him of this until he was ordered out the door to take care of his master's dirty deed.

"They will be traveling on Shadow Way Road at approximately twelve tonight." He remembered being told.

"What do you wish me to do?" Riccardo asked in return, already knowing he would take the girl for himself.

"Kill them. Kill them both, that filth Ugo and his little whore, too. Remember, bring the girl back alive if you can."

Riccardo then gave his creator a stern nod, and went out the door.

Yet he had already known the plan, the nuances of it, but never the location or the exact specifications like he had just been given. One thing remained clear; Fiona was going to be killed if he didn't step in and do something about it. So as Lorenzo festered on his plan, so did he. He opened up the cell door and set her down as carefully as he could on the floor. Her arm came around and between the cell bars, she stirred a bit in her sleep, moaning a little. He proceeded to shut and lock the door. At first he was going to leave the keys on the nearby empty-wine bottle strewn table, but decided against it. This girl had ways of getting out of impossible situations.

She was a clever one; just like he always was. He took a moment to look at her. How painful it was to leave such a beautiful creature in that filthy cell. Nonetheless, she would have nothing but the best in short time. He turned and walked out of the room. The cell had not been used in ages; it used to be a holding cell for the House of Truth, for when they had the occasional brake-in by thieves. Back then, police could never get to a place in time so large estates and castles had their own holding cell for such thieves. Unfortunately for them, not all the prisoners saw the police. They instead found the torture cell. The lucky ones were the ones that had yet to touch or be found with any of the Belli's property.

Since then, it had been useless and used for storage. Now it was serving a rather different purpose altogether. It was holding his Lady-in-waiting. And indeed it was his Lady...and she was waiting. Or at least, she'd just have to wait for now. His whole body tingled with the prospect of making love to the woman at long last. He had staged off every known desire he could, but it was getting tiresome.

One thing remained, that wretched mutt. With a heavy sigh, he took off back through the tunnel, careful to lock it first. Even if she did get out of that cell, she wasn't leaving back the way they came, that was certain. He took off in a jog back down the tunnel. It was going to be a long, long night.

---

Riccardo wasn't stupid. He was prepared for the dog this time. Before he even tried to head back into the forest he made a stop back at the old cells again. This time he opened the closest one and gathered some supplies that had not been touched in centuries. It was a leather muzzle at about the dog's size and a frayed, smelly, but still usable rope. They would have to do.

Again he went through the mansion and out the giant double doors. This was the place's real entrance, not the way through the watchtower. Still, for the Belli's that one in particular was the most convenient way to get there. The Chaos Forest used to lead somewhere many a year ago, but not anymore. Bridges had fallen, roads had grown over, cliffs gave way. It was a shadow of it's former self.

But then, so was everything in this place...

He stood above the massive duel steps, turning his head one way and then another. Trying to see if the dog had grown a brain and decided to give himself up willingly. Yet, of course, this was not the case. He had to go and make it more difficult for him. With a rope in one hand and the muzzle in the other, he again walked down the steps and into the main gates. He remembered sneaking up on Fiona as she tended to the dog. She was bent over and talking to him calmly, then appeared to wrap the dog's leg in a sort of bandage. He supposed she could have gotten it from the examination room. Riccardo was trying to get the drop on her, but he slipped up and stepped on a twig which announced his presence.

Now he was trying to once again make it to that spot. The clearing; the ruins of some smaller building that was there ages ago. What remained were walls of stone that no longer served a purpose but to be overgrown by vines and moss. But as he rounded the corner, the dog had long gone. For a moment he actually had a pang of fear in his gut. What if the dog got up and died somewhere?

Then he turned the corner and saw him staggering about...Standing up, actually walking. This was a shock to him. Hewie was walking in a sort of lopsided manner, carefully of how to place his left hind leg, holding it in a sort of limp. It looked and operated more like a stilt then a leg. His ears were down and to the sides, face the essence of pain and fear. And it was obvious he had seen Riccardo; for he groaned and then proceeded to cower.

"Come here..." He tried to coax, but his voice was still deep and threatening. "Come here, you damned mutt..."

Hewie didn't run; but neither did he listen. He was trying to find Fiona, but only succeeded in going about in circles as this place led him nowhere. Even his keen nose couldn't sniff out a possible path he could take that didn't lead him back into that mansion and away from Fiona. He felt a sort of terror for his master, like he knew she was in some innate danger. Little did he know she was as safe as she ever was that night. Away from physical harm of all sorts.

The dog knew there was no use running. He was never the running sort. Besides, he was in no shape to do such thing anyway. He spied the tools the man held in his hand. They were the same sort his former owners would often use to "shut up that fucking dog!" as they called it, though he had no idea what that ever meant. Muzzling him then tying him next to the shed out back where he would often have to sit and weather through even the worst of storms until they remembered he was there.

This made Hewie back up a bit more. That horrible, smelly monster had tied him up before. Now he didn't want this man...This crazed, odd-smelling man that seemed to have an "empty" and "hollow" scent to him he's only ever sensed on the maid. Nobody in this castle smelled normal. He also noticed that with the exception of the maid, they all smelled about the same. Like family, only even closer. He often would give Fiona a quick sniff on the leg to make sure it was her, and not one of those "stalkers" that was constantly after them. They all just smelled so alike, he wondered sometimes if she really was one of them and would be just as likely to beat or hurt him as well. Because of this, he kept an eye to her always.

Now before him stood the same man he had tried to attack before to no avail. It was fresh in his mind, the same noise he heard ringing throughout the mansion rung throughout the forest as the strange object in his hand made the noise. Then he felt the pain, something his smaller mind couldn't quite comprehend as a gun and bullet. A sort of fear washed over him, that this man would do it again. He tried to see the object in his hands again, but couldn't. Yet this didn't calm him, he still smelled like gunpowder...And a salad, oddly enough.

He tried to bark, but it came out weak and strained. It was fear and pain edging into his bark, he had been dominated by this man. Hewie realized this now. When he tried to attack him, he had pushed this particular man to the max, and he had dominated him. Not by rolling him over, not by biting his scruff or a growl, but by a loud "BANG!" and a sudden sharp pain. This creature had pushed him below him, became his alpha, and now if he didn't do as the alpha demanded, he would be corrected once again.

A dog will protect, but never against it's master, it's alpha. And this was now Riccardo. There was no Fiona there to defend and force him to protect or be guided by. There was no catalyst to initiate an attack. Hewie's head slunk down, and he did something rather odd to the clone; he rolled over onto his back and exposed his stomach. This was an act of submission on his part, Hewie was finished, done, tired. Maybe if he submitted to this all-powerful alpha, it wouldn't correct or hurt him anymore...

...Maybe he could live to see his Fiona again?

Riccardo had seen this behavior in some of the dogs he's captured before, amongst all-out aggression and being bit on more than one occasion. In fact, back in that castle he also kept more than enough muzzles near the kennel. He didn't particularly learn anything about them, and treated them like cattle to a slaughter as he housed, fed, and later dragging them to their certain doom. If they resisted he'd pull them along half-chocking them to death as they dug their feet into the ground. He'd either have to pick them up or jerk the rope to get them to the inside where he would extract their blood. It was a process he was never proud of, taking in the Azoth from an animal to keep himself functioning at least semi-normally and not aging before his time. He knew that this made him more animal then man, more dog then human, but he tried not to think about it too much.

That's what this beast was going to be for. To feed his needs, to supplement his body. Luckily enough, he was captured at about the same time Ugo came back into the country, so she was all he needed from now on. The dog was now rather useless. In fact, all animals now were to him. Still, it couldn't hurt to have a backup just in case Fiona didn't play along...Yet, as far as he was concerned, Fiona could keep the damn mutt so much as he didn't try any more of his shit, which was getting rather irritating and bothersome for his plan

So far, it was looking rather promising.

He took advantage of the dog's submissive state, quickly advancing on him, crossing the distance between himself and Hewie as he unraveled the rope. The loop dragged on the ground as he tightened up the noose, grabbed it, and slung it over the dog's head. He cinched it tight, which made Hewie jump in shock and surprise, trying to turn around to defend himself against this assault. What was this human going to do, now!? He tried to squirm away, but felt strong hands on the back of his neck, the scruff, and like that he was pulled back.

"...Don't know what's best for you...Stupid fucking mutt..." He cursed as he wrestled the dog under him, then brought out the muzzle as he fastened it over his snout and closed the clasp.

Looks can be deceiving.

The dog whimpered as it realized he was now defenseless, and just as all the dogs have done to him in the past, Hewie did now as he struggled to free himself. He got up on his hind legs and pawed at the muzzle, pawed at the rope about his neck that had a hundred different animal's smell upon it, but Riccardo appeared so used to this that he took it all in stride, jerking the lead on occasion as he pulled the animal once again into the mansion.

Hewie hoped it would not be his last walk.

---

He laid the dog on the same examination table that his Fiona had been on. Unlike her, however, he was far from gentle. When he struggled, he took the animals scruff and pressed him back down into it. With a wince, he took the advice, and was nothing but a statue the rest of his own examination. Quickly, because he knew he had screwed around enough that night, he looked at the gun wound. It had been bandaged with what appeared to be a part of Fiona's clothing, ripped off from the inside fabric. He made a noise of disapproval in his throat; this is what the woman does to fine, expensive gifts from her future lover?

Well, this dog, alive, was going to be his next gift. He hoped she would appreciate this one a bit more.

Like a well oiled machine he went back to work, ripping the expensive bandage from the dog rather savagely, as if angered. Then he grabbed a pair of tweezers from the nearby table that still remained. It went into the wound, and dog screamed and whimpered. He paid it no heed, the only thing it did was get on his nerves. Anesthetic was something they never had just laying about, in fact they never used it. They relied on alchemic concoctions for everything including pain relief. So he continued on, the very words "shut the hell up" on his lips as he probed deeper into the wound. Finally he felt it, and pulled the tiny ball that was the bullet from the hole. Luckily enough for the dog it didn't hit or shatter the bone which was something musket balls tend to do.

Riccardo then dumped half a bottle of ethanol on the thing, which made Hewie literally scream as it stung. The dog tried to snap at the man in his muzzle, but he just laughed a little and smiled at the feeble effort put forth by the beast.

"How does it feel, vermin?" Then laughed a little again. "How does it feel to be just racked with pain?"

God knows the dog bit him enough to know what it was like. The spots on his leg, arms, and even one across his neck was enough. Luckily for the homunculus, it wasn't as bad as it felt. He would have to disinfect them before he left again. As his wound sizzled with dying bacteria, he took a cotton ball and swabbed the mess away. He then applied a much more clean, sterile bandage that blended in with his fur and looked to virtually disappear on his leg. Stitching this wound might trap more bacteria, and do more bad then good, so he opted against it. Besides, the wound was much smaller and looked to be rather healthy.

The dog seemed to know when it was all finished, and he stood up on the table, then laid back down. He was shaking all over from pain and fear, riveted, shocked. He watched as the strange man...The giver of pain, he seemed to appear...Walk over to the sink and wash his hands of blood. He saw it run from his red hands into the drain and the water just pool it away. He had seen a lot of blood in this place, but that was the freshest of all. Hewie could smell it. Then he appeared to take the bottle from the cabinet, and lift up his pant leg to examine something...If the dog could laugh, he would. His own bites! He recognized them now. Then he went to his arm, then the back of his neck, trying to get them all.

Riccardo saw several bite marks had been made in his clothing, and he saw these, too, making a noise in his throat. Then he noticed he was being watched by said dog, and snapped his head in his direction.

"Don't ever look at me, mutt."

Strangely, Hewie complied. He realized at that moment, smart as he was, that he had been helped and not hurt. It was like he got a vibe from the odd man that he had meant well. This was a bit on the strange side to Hewie, why did he care about him all of a sudden? Was he attempting to use him for something else? He went to lift his pant leg again, and this time Hewie looked even closer. And this time he caught a glimpse of cracked, scarred skin. It looked weathered, it looked painful, it wasn't...Right. Dogs naturally knew when an animal was sick, ill, or deformed. Just by a glance, or by smell. And at that moment, Hewie knew he was a mixture of all three.

Now he knew why biting that man always tasted funny. Not bad...But, funny. Like he was actually biting leather, something strong yet crackly, fragile, easy to break.

Riccardo again caught the dog.

"I said, don't look at me!"

Again, Hewie gave him the puppy-dog eyes of shame, laid his ears back, and averted his eyes.

He did watch as the man seemed to pocket something, then with that he took the leash and pulled it downward.

"Come on..." Riccardo said under his breath, glad that part was over.

The dog reluctantly jumped down, afraid of the pain it would cause, but there was little. He followed the man sometimes reluctantly, sometimes willingly, as he again entered the cell and the long tunnel. He made it back to the water tower door, but stopped. Turning around, he tied the dog to a nearby torch holder and gave him a hard glance right into his eyes.

"Stay." Was all he told the shepherd, and surprisingly enough, he was willing to listen.

----

He came into the pump room. The floor was strewn with pipes, the wall lined with machinery. Though it was still in use it was just barely so. The old medieval equipment was replaced some hundred years ago when Lorenzo was younger and paid for it's renovation. The little lights blinked so lowly one could hardly make it out. But the newest piece added to it was in the center, on a raised platform.

A cube. It was transparent with a lighted bottom and was just barely big enough to hold a human being even if lying down. He designed it so small, so uncomfortable for a reason.

Riccardo wanted to break her.

To make her wish her out of there, give in, allow him to do anything and everything to her. It contained no bathroom, no water, food, and would only be given these things when she asked him to. When she was willing to plead for such necessities and become reliant on him for all of her life needs, he would let her out.

It was built with Plexiglas and metal mesh for the optimum in strength and being ultimately inescapable. Once in there, she would never be able to get out unless he wanted her to. Lorenzo knew nothing about it. In the end Riccardo never wanted to use this device, it was built as a last-ditch effort just in case his first plan didn't work. He certainly never thought that Fiona would run like that, and the old man made him nervous. Him getting a hold of her was his greatest fear. He could always catch Fiona in good time, but it was him that he feared the most. It was built mostly to protect her from him if the need were to arise.

And that time had come. He could almost sense the old man near, and now he had to work on it quickly lest he somehow find a way, or the girl wakes up. Riccardo really couldn't afford either. He walked closer to the illuminated cube, looking over his handiwork. The center of each square was transparent with a colored sort of metal rimming each one. It opened via a mechanism that only he knew how to unlock.

He chose this location because of it's almost unreachable locale. The tunnel itself was rather secret in it's nature, as well as the doors used to get in and out. The door to the bathroom wasn't locked; but the door to the pump room was. And only he possessed the key. Even if Lorenzo somehow made it here; his veritable domain, he would never be able to enter the real tower itself. No passage at all traveled through here or bypassed walls like in the mansion and castle. Not to mention this whole tower was devoid of his cameras.

There was no doubt in his mind that she was safe here. That he was safe here. Away from Lorenzo, and away from any exit that he could possibly fathom. She was trapped like a rat in a cage. And soon, very soon, she would be like an animal in a cage, held aloft so he could see and speak to her at his whim. He proceeded to look the cube over, making sure it was fit for the woman it would contain. There were still some issues he had with it, like the opening and closing lock. He ran his hand along the crease where it came together, to the untrained eye it looked like a complete cube without a way in or out. But like everything in this castle, nothing was as it seemed at first glance. It took often a second, or third look to see what was the absolute truth behind it all.

Riccardo picked up a set of pliers from the small amount of tools still laying on the floor from when he last worked on it. Only a few adjustments, and it would be ready.

---

He stood at the gate of the jail cell. At first he came just to collect her and leave...But he was almost afraid to touch her, hesitant. There was the moment where he gazed upon her tired, yet troubled face and he became entranced. She was positively beautiful. He'd never seen such a dazzling creature. It was as though she was instead some heavenly creature sent here just for him. Like the Gods themselves had given him an angel to have and love. He couldn't have asked for anything more.

But he broke out of the trance, moving his hand from the bars of the cell and down to the key hole of the gate. They jingled only slightly in his grasp; he was trying his best to be quiet. As it unlocked he held the gate carefully and guided it only open enough so he could get into it. Otherwise it might disturb her by hitting her hand. He knelt and once again picked her up into his grasp, making a slight moan as he did so. Stiffening, he stopped cold and looked intently at her face. She still remained out; but she wouldn't be for much longer.

With a slight hurry he walked out the doorway and towards the pump room. He entered the room, and this time locked it behind him. The only key out in his hands. Even his father didn't know this particular room was locked or had the key to it. A lock pick would have also been fruitless. And the door itself was made of the strongest iron and had a bar across it. Lastly, it was only one way in and out.

He was able to just barely reach around and down with his hand and put the key into a nearby piece of machinery. It hummed only slightly and like that the top of the cube came up and stuck, allowing him to put whatever he desired into it. Walking over there, he very carefully, and smoothly, placed the girl inside. He folded her arms and legs as she sort of fell inside, the light hitting her face but unable to wake her from her deep slumber. A sort of excitement arose in his heart. He knew now, nothing would stop him. The maiden was captured, the dog was tamed, and the old man was in hiding and as good as dead when he found him.

Riccardo turned around and turned the key, which closed it and sealed it totally. Oxygen was filtered in from the bottom so she would not suffocate. In fact, the air she was breathing was cleaner then the mold-stained stuff he was. He put the keys into his pocket and gently paced around her. If she were awake now, it would be fine. There was no way out, nowhere to go.

Actually, he wished she would awaken. He wanted to see the look on her face when she found out where she was, when she realized there was no escape for her.

Running from him had angered him just a little, and now he wanted to see her regret that decision by being trapped like a rat. Still, he longed to see the day she was happy. He wanted to see her smile, to show him those pearl white teeth as she laughed in joy. To see her eyes light up. One side of him was sadomasochistic, liked to see the look of fright and terror upon her face...Yet the other was dormant, the other was slow to awaken, but it was always there. It was his compassion.

The fantasy played again in his mind as he looked at her serene face. Serving her dinner that she thanked him for and gladly ate; drinking wine with him on a candlelight dinner. Then he kissed her, grabbing her about the waist and gently pecking her neck with quick, sensual kisses as she moaned within his grasp and rubbed herself against him. He waited so long for this, he so deserved this...Then he carried her to the bed and laid her out, she pulled him down on top of him...The look of desire and happiness in her eyes.

Then came the other fantasy, the one that he loved the most. It was one he had since he heard the words out of his creator's mouth.

"Ugo had a child; a girl. She is now eighteen..."

It wasn't until he actually saw her that he fell stone in love. Putting a face onto his most erotic fantasy and dream. He truly had dreams of love, of Fiona in his bed, for so long. The most prevalent was one of her with child, his child, carrying it within her. In his mind the girl was happy and giddy, a smile almost constantly on her face as she walked about wearing his purchased, low-cut and rather revealing clothing. Sitting there, stroking her bloated stomach as she listened to his whimsical music. Then, her being a mother to his incarnation, caring for him, loving him. Feeding him from the breast and rocking him to sleep. And he was there, at all times, right beside her as he watched. As he leaned in and caressed her. They were his. She was his...

Ever since he had these dreams, these aspirations...These, hopes...He had to have them. Had to. There was no option, no switch to turn off. No other thought in his mind but to achieve them at any and all costs. He would kill, he would maim, he would abuse. They were the last thoughts he had before he went to sleep...When he went to sleep...And the first ones he would wake up to. It had become his life, his warped obsession. He knew Lorenzo had the same desire to acquire the woman, the same twisted desire to have her...But not like this. As life to take, not to create. Not to love.

His fantasy was about to become reality.

He walked closer to her, and knelt down, and looked directly into her very placid face. Oh, how he wished he could touch her from here. But he knew he would be able to touch her soon. Touch her for the rest of her life, touch her in ways she could never imagine. He stayed like that, waiting there, waiting there for her to wake up and see him. Now that she was here, in front of him, he could have her undivided attention.

And he had so much to tell her.