Tu Fui, Ego Eris

"The point is, you see…that there is no point driving yourself mad trying to stop yourself from going mad. You might just as well give in and save your sanity for later."

–Douglas Adams

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Chapter 8: Transit Umbra, Lux Permanet

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He woke, but it was an unusual awakening for him. It was slow, not sudden, like being forced up by some nightmare as per usual. The nightmare that seemed so real sometimes he wondered if he ever actually did wake up... His eyes fluttered open, the woman still held tightly in his arms. During sleep, she even seemed to move closer to him. He smiled, the idea of the woman willingly giving in to him was titillating, it made all the effort worth it. He wasn't sure how she would be now, more hateful, if that was possible, or more cooperative. He'd suppose he would have to wait and see.

Riccardo lifted his head from the pillow, taking a weary look at the clock. It still seemed too early to get up, but was surprised to see that he had gotten a fair amount of sleep. About six hours, a new record for him. He again looked at the sleeping Fiona. Her face was placid, tears staining her closed eyes. They moved quickly under her eyelids, caught in R.E.M. sleep. No doubt she was experiencing some horrid nightmare.

'Welcome to my Hell, my dear...' He thought, silently, not wanting to wake her yet.

He looked up, and noticed the sun was just beginning to peak her rays from the clouds. It was just rising, right now. For whatever reason, he found himself carefully prying himself from his love, and also finding the energy to rise from the bed. He backed up, and stepped off of the mattress, and stood as he looked from his location out the window.

Riccardo didn't know why...But like many desires in his life, he didn't question it.

The dog yawned under the bed. He had just woken up, himself. Yet unlike the man, he didn't rise yet. He sought to go right back to sleep. Either way, Riccardo paid the beast no heed. As long as he left him alone, then hell...What did he have to complain? Surely, if he kept Fiona happy then it was worth feeding and keeping the animal…let alone in the house.

Despite being in his own home, he sought to cover himself before walking outside, perhaps it was the idea of Debilitas quite possibly glimpsing him. Either way, he crouched down and grabbed the sheet that had previously been on the floor, and draped it around himself like some Roman citizen, and walked slowly and quietly out the far end door.

It wasn't a cold morning, but not really hot either. Soon it would become chilly, but not yet...No frost or dew hang on the leaves or grass. He took advantage, stepping out onto the stone with his bare feet, only a slight chill that didn't send him back into the room in haste.

The homunculus took a deep breath into his artificial lungs, and he noticed that it smelled of dew, that he could still smell the late summer flowers that remained in the courtyard. And the sun...The sun was up, and it shinned just perfectly upon him.

At this moment, he realized he just had an epiphany...A revelation. He kept it from himself, didn't even allow himself to dwell too hard on the thought. Instead he focused on just how beautiful this morning was...The beginning of his new life.

Looking down at his hands, he noticed they felt just a little smoother then before- even better then after he would be finished taking in the Azoth of a dog. It must have been from Fiona. He was surprised by just how efficient it was, and that it lasted all the way through until morning. He wondered how much longer it would last, and whether it was perhaps even permanent...

That, he would have to wait and see. But already, the results were spectacular. Already he was driven to damn near start crying...Was this what true happiness felt like?

He stayed for a few more minutes, then turned around and went back through the door. Tiptoeing across the room and up the short flight of steps, he shed the sheet from his body, and discretely crawled back onto the bed, satisfied that he had not disturbed his sleeping beauty not one bit.

With a sigh, he laid himself back down. His arms carefully found the same spot they were at before. This was too nice, too comfortable to get up from yet. Her form felt too good against his, the way she breathed, her chest heaving, her breasts scraping her fingers every time she did so...

Perhaps he would try to get that extra hour of sleep, if he could.

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The first thing the new woman realized when she woke up, was that there was sun in her eyes...

The second was she was not in her bed at home...

The third was that there was a strange man's arms around her...

And in one heinous slap in the face, it all came back to her.

Yet she did not propel herself from the bed in haste. Not how one would normally expect someone to act. Instead she lay there with her eyes open, and the sensation of fear and disgust flowed through her system like ice water being pumped through her veins. Her heart began to hammer and she developed a sick feeling in her gut. No. This couldn't be real. She didn't want it to be, why God...? Why here? Why couldn't she have woken up back at home, like she dreamed? Something heinous had told her, however, that this was home...That she could never go back to the way things were before.

Fiona was no longer the innocent angel. A virgin that could do nothing wrong...She had let a demon defile her. Soiled her rotten to the core. She could just about feel the forked tail erupting from her backside...

Next to her, she felt him. HIM. She couldn't even remember his name. Just when you become so familiar with someone enough that the mind see's a face...Not a name. You just know. And with that face came a surprising familiarity. Not to say she loved the man, but if she had to pick him from a line-up...Surely, she would have no problem to say the least. The thought of last night made her mouth water in the same way it does before one vomits. She had felt every part of him against her, felt the very core of his existence throughout her body. He was like a raping virus, he had infected her in the worse way. Immediately the fear of pregnancy filled her, she knew just sleeping together without protection didn't always result in such a thing...But it sure was one hell of a good way to go about getting knocked up.

Funny, she always saw girls younger then her getting pregnant in school...She didn't envy them. In fact, she more pitied them if anything. They went and ruined their lives. She never would see them again once they left to give birth. Dropping out because they made one bad decision. And several times, most likely. This was never a fear to her, because as much as she wanted to sleep with a man...This very fear kept her at bay. If she just listened to what her parents wanted, that couldn't, wouldn't, happen to her.

How in God's name did it come to this...?

Her mind swam in circles as she lay there. Everything nagged at her to jump from the bed and run as fast as she could. Everything but her sanity-because she knew that in the end it would take her nowhere. She tried that, and it never did work. She tried that times beyond count. In her heart she didn't have the hate or desire to kill the man, and she's been over that scenario in her head just as near as many times. It wasn't that much better of a solution. This place was like a fancy prison, except she didn't do anything worthy of such incarceration.

He still held her, and he was warmer now even then he was before. His grip wasn't sweaty or clammy, in fact if he was a lover and not a determined, sociopath rapist, she would have been comforted instead of disgusted. How she wished he could just vanish, just disappear...

Fiona tried to block out last night, the full reality didn't quite hit her yet. Perhaps it was her natural survival instinct so that she could escape her dire situation. What little she knew was that things were going down that path again, before she could even recover from the first.

She didn't move yet because she didn't want to wake him up- just listened...Listened as he breathed. His rhythm was pleasant, not at all like the monster he was. Slow, quiet, he sure didn't snore. His breath didn't smell as he breathed on her, but the constant motion of his breath hitting her hair was about enough to make her try to sneak away from him out of sheer irritation. Yet it was so reassuring and lulling, she almost fell back asleep from that alone. Her body tensed as he moved a little in his sleep, and her heart nearly leapt from her chest with the thought of him awakening.

Speak of the devil...

And she meant "devil", in every conceivable way...

Her heart quelled as she felt him sigh and then move. She recognized it as the sound one makes when they wake up. Tired, not ready to really get up yet. In the end, however, Fiona knew that the minute he saw her it would be quite a different reaction. Fiona's stomach bottomed out in fear, her mind raced with what he would do next. Killing wasn't in her mind, instead, it went towards subtle things like kissing and embracing. She felt him tense next to her, like in realization that he was in fact standing next to her and holding her loosely. Her whole body shivered on cue and tensed in response. This whole time she had been sweating, heart palpating and breath hitched.

"Good morning, love..."

There was no response from her- she couldn't even open her mouth let alone talk. She squeezed her eyelids shut and prayed he would let go of her, get up and take a piss or something...Why was he even still here? She always heard of men leaving before the woman woke up, why couldn't he be like the others? Why couldn't he leave her the hell alone!?

She damn near jumped as she felt his hand, and it slithered right between her closed legs to feel her, and she knew with a revitalized horror what he found. Again, his actions made her wet. Fiona would never admit it; but his body had the wrong effect on her own. It's like it wanted him against her best wishes, like her Azoth was alive and trying to make this happen. It actually seemed to make sense and it frightened her. Did she just discover something she wasn't supposed to-

"Ahhh! Ricc- Riccar-ahh! Please, wait..."

He grabbed her swiftly about the waist, as if a sudden bolt of lightening surged through him and he was alive with passion. Yet he was gentle, and not blind to her needs. As he pulled her towards himself, she cried out and he adjusted to stand on his knees. His body was still tired and sore, not really wanting to get up yet until he saw her. When he did, all other thoughts of himself faded away. Instead, he thought of the future of the Belli legacy. He thought of getting her pregnant. And he thought of giving her the best damn wake up call he could muster. She was wet, she wanted him. Far be it from him to turn her down.

After all, she said "wait", not "stop"...

Pressing against the small of her back with his chest, he stood on his knees as he held her about her waist. Soon she was under him, and she barely struggled as he lay atop her as a dog mounts a bitch in heat. He backed up just enough to do so, and then once again penetrated her for the third time. She gasped and cringed, she didn't want to look weak in front of him. It didn't hurt so much anymore, and she was wet enough for it to work. Fiona didn't even have time to be sick or repelled. She took it all, bracing on the bed as her fingers grabbed the sheets. He put his knee between her legs and knocked them apart a little, instantly spreading them and she was surprisingly grateful. She took another gasp and cried out from the feeling of being overpowered.

...Of being empowered...

The feeling of a man, no matter of whom that man may be...thrusting into her, desiring with heated passion was intoxicating. She felt better then any female she had ever lent eyes upon. Sexier, stronger, faster, prettier. Desired. Envied. This sudden feeling rose within her and made the previously unwilling procedure become mind-blowing erotic. She rocked to his rhythm and her feelings escalated like a roller coaster. Her body yearned for it, like a hole in her that needed to be fulfilled just as much as any need, hunger or thirst. There was no time to cry, no time to question herself. Before she could do that all, she came rather quickly. There was no scream, just a long moan as she relished the way her body reacted. Then she panted like the responsive animal she had become, feeling him come as well, and deep inside her at that. Pregnancy wasn't even a thought in her mind as she felt it, as far as she could be concerned she could care less right now. She felt him growl rather like the (horn)dog he was, it was a low rumble she could feel in her bones, and he nibbled the top of her back. She shivered and cried out.

"Oh, God..." She spoke, her voice thick as her mouth was dry and sticky.

"Oh God, why again...How could you do it again?"

She spoke not to Riccardo, but to herself. If she wanted to, she could have fought him off. Told him to get the fuck off, and for all she knew he could have complied. Yet she was too afraid, not just of repercussions, but of not getting what her body craved. God, she couldn't help herself...Her body pulsed and glowed when he was nearby.

And when he fucked her...Oh, God...When he fucked her like he did...

Riccardo pulled out, and kissed at her cheek as he rolled off. He wasn't as sapped as he was last night, in part because this was a quickie and not the sort of passionate lovemaking he sought then. Still, he made her cum. He wondered how much of it was actually his doing and not her own want-less ambition. A sort of glow filled him as he realized he had achieved his goal. It still seemed to good to be true.

Well, things were going too good. He would have to wait for something to go bad pretty soon, he conjectured. Things never stayed very good for him for very long. He wondered if he would die from a heart attack on the way to the kitchen, or Fiona had some birth defect that would make her sterile. Maybe the dog would catch the first case of rabies in England for many-a-year and kill him in his sleep. Maybe he'd choke on a chicken bone. He didn't know what it would be, but he knew that death always came in the friendliest of guises. But then, he had felt vulnerable in that sense...In another, Fiona had made him feel invincible. Immortal. He wondered if perhaps he was the devil incarnate. After all, it is said that he would always appear in the form of a handsome man. And that he would be charming. That he would seem too good to be true...

He wondered if perhaps the devil could be a woman, and that in fact Fiona had bewitched him. Smiling, he embraced her again from behind and passionately kissed the back of her neck. She stiffened, her breath quickening, and neither could tell at that point if it was fear or excitement.

"Do you still fear me, m'Lady?"

"...Always." She responded, her voice faltering at the end.

"Do you still hate me, then?" Riccardo could just guess her answer as he kissed behind her ears.

"Forever."

A cold smirk played across his face, and he wrapped around to kiss her lips. She only resisted a little, moving her face away. Yet he followed, and as always she gave in. Kissing her lips, he pressed harder and started a little tongue, then finally went full force. She moaned a little as he put weight on the bed and pulled her closer, pressing her against himself and wrapping his legs around her to ensure no escape. This time she was afraid to return the kiss, instead of too afraid not to.

This upset him, and so he relaxed the fevered passion he had for the woman. Trying to prod her mouth with his, she finally responded. For her it was a way of self-preservation. She didn't know what he would do if she didn't return his advances. At this moment he released, albeit slowly. In the end he tried to leave her wanting. Riccardo stood up and gazed at her body like an admirer ganders at a work of art. Appraising an oil painting, and at this point she looked like something by Leonardo Davinci himself. She lay on her back in shock and fear, her body arched to the right as her breasts glimmered with sweat from the morning sun, they were peaked and aroused, blood making the auroras a dark purple. They quivered as she breathed, her ribs visible as she lay on her back and her stomach sunken, the only real excess fat on her thighs and breasts. Her left leg was bent as her right leg hid beneath the covers below the knee. All along her hair was tossed and mess once again, real blonde hair was straight and traditional. Blonde hair he knew she got from her mother.

When she realized she was being stared at, she rushed to cover herself with a nearby sheet. Even now, she had modesty. It was going to be difficult habit to rid herself from. Actually, it wasn't something that she ever sought to be rid of. Especially in front of him...

She didn't want to admit that her hate for him was fading. It evolved, warped into a different sort of hate that preyed more on avoidance and tolerance then rage and disgust. He still made her skin crawl, but it would be wrong for her to think she hadn't already became used to it. Not in the way one gets used to a new job; but more how one gets used to a new home. What first becomes uncomfortable becomes normal in time...

"Please...Go! Don't look at me..."

Her voice was upset, like a flower ready to wilt...Cement ready to crack. On the edge of full-on weeping.

Riccardo felt himself become hollow...And realized right then that he had felt pity. Pity? He swore he didn't know the feeling. That is, he didn't know it until now. He was surprised he even knew the definition of the word itself.

Dropping his head, he nodded. Submitting to her will.

"If you wish, m'Lady. What would you like for breakfast? The same as yesterday?"

She just closed her eyes and wrenched her face from his.

"I don't care...Whatever..."

He almost asked her to repeat it, as he could barely hear it. Yet he didn't, as she seemed too fragile in this state.

"As you wish. Sleep if you'd like. Breakfast will be waiting for you in the kitchen whenever you wake up."

The heiress didn't answer. She closed her eyes as her captor scooped up his clothes and left. Fiona then proceeded to fall into a sleep just as deep as last night, once again drained and didn't know why.

All she truly knew, and knew for certain...Was that she wasn't looking forward to awakening.

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Many hours later, the sun stretched across the sky and it had become noon. It was more like lunch then breakfast as he sat on the bench in the courtyard opposite the guest room. Somehow he was hoping she would show up sooner or later, though he knew she would most likely want nothing to do with him. He may have been delusional, insane perhaps, but he wasn't stupid. Riccardo was convinced he did not force the girl last night or this morning; but that she would have thought of it differently. Of course she did...Just looking at him always made every woman regret it, make them think they must have been piss drunk that night to sleep with him. That's why they always took off the next morning. Well, this morning he made certain he was the one to leave her...Though he had to admit he only did so for her benefit. Now that she was fully awake she would want nothing to do with him. The only thing he could seek to do would be to wait on her hand and foot and appear to get into her good graces.

In the end, he got from her what he wanted. He bedded her, several times to be exact. And every time he was sure to empty into her as much as he could, as deep as he could. If that didn't do the trick, he would be disappointed...But it wasn't as though she would be going anywhere. He would have had plenty of opportunities. Even if his potency would be reduced, the frequency would have to surely account for something...

He sighed, and laid back on the bench...A large smile formed on his face. God, he hadn't been laid in forever before last night. It was such a relief on every part of his body, and he knew he would never be lonely again. He wasn't sure how he would cope with sharing his life and home with a woman. The only female in the house had been Daniella, and she was no more. Besides, she wasn't exactly what he would call a 'woman' as much as he would call her the walking dead.

God, how he had wished Ugo was alive to see this, or even Lorenzo. He wished he could have held off killing either just to see the look on their face. It would have been even sweeter then the lovemaking himself. That was another thing; he felt rather proud of himself for working Fiona over oh so diligently the night before. He heard her cry and pant for him, practically begging him with her body, just not her words. His thoughts were filled with her, they never stopped. He had obtained the unobtainable...And it still seemed almost too good to be true.

That was not to say Riccardo didn't want to take advantage of such good fortune; he was still waiting for karma to come back and bite him in the ass. He was just hoping either vengeance had overlooked him, or would come so late in his life he wouldn't care anymore. As long as he had his child- was born again...Then he could be made to suffer for all he cared.

Speaking of being bit in the ass...He wondered where that blasted mutt had run off to?

Riccardo could only guess Hewie was with Fiona somewhere, and he was glad because he didn't need him rooting around bothering him. Or worse yet, turning aggressive toward him once again. He wondered if she had fed him-Wait…why did he care?

At least he didn't have to worry about Fiona's safety with him around. There was still the issue of Debilitas, which he didn't think he would ever fully trust again. He would keep two close eyes on the abomination any chance he got. He had yet to see him since the graveyard, and didn't particularly care to.

The food next to him was a simple club sandwich, meat and cheese on bread. The bread itself was Italian, just as his blood, and it was some of the best money could buy. It was the same story for everything around here. He had been spoiled and admitted so. There was also an apple that he had eaten half of, and a glass of some champagne. He smiled at the last. Wasn't he entitled to a little celebratory beverage?

He just finished taking a sip himself, when he heard her. And he knew, instantly, that it was her. Not only had he come to recognize her soft footsteps coupled with the pitter-patter of the dog nearby, but he could just sense her presence. Like a shark senses prey in the ocean, he could just feel- and even smell-her in the air. Who says those of the older persuasion can't "get with it" anymore? He could sense far more then the younger girl herself...

She was walking from the guest room, her bare feet tapping the steps as she walked down. The dog lulled behind her, sluggish from the large amount of meat she gave him. Fiona herself had her head down, and her walking was shaky- it appeared as though she was walking about in a fog. Most likely she really was, except that such a fog was in fact in her brain, blocking her thoughts and emotions. Protecting herself from herself. He didn't want to imagine himself in her shoes, not only because he found it hard to not justify what he was doing, but because it might very well drive himself even further into madness.

And he was right, Fiona walked as though she was a zombie; sans the hands-outreached posture of American horror lore. Her eyes were shiny, like she had been crying. Face appearing moist, body trembling as she stepped from the stone stairway onto the grassy Earth. It was actually a rather beautiful day, and the sun was warm and beautiful, a butterfly fluttered past her, and Riccardo nearly stifled a laugh, such an odd occurrence how a creature of great beauty bestowed another. It was almost as though she summoned it herself. In reality he knew it was from the mass of flowers the garden held- but he didn't let that ruin the scene. Birds, and not just crows, sang in the trees, and the sun illuminated them all. He met her gaze, and smiled a little at her. Her own gaze was filled with hatred, and at the meeting of eyes and strange silence, he realized this was an awkward moment if there ever was one.

"Riccardo..."

So rarely did she speak his name, but when she did there was always loathing behind it. It was no different this time, a cold bitter edge to it.

He looked at her still, eyes lightening and becoming warmer. Smirking in his way, it was his only response. She walked closer, but not in a direct line, wavering in a casual manner. Yet everything above the waist was uptight, she folded her arms in front of her lovely chest and gazed off towards the large castle wall. Hewie trotted about, seeming to also not want anything to do with their conversation.

Fiona didn't know where her sudden bravado came from. And quite frankly, she didn't care. Perhaps it was the fact she was in absolutely no control of the situation and the unbelievable irritation that bubbled up within her and had enough. He had her; at long last. She could tell he was proud of himself. Rapist, murdering son of a bitch, if she was braver she would smack that smile right off his face...Yet she was the type to cry over something then to do anything about it. And so, instead of rushing to him with a blunt object in her hand after he fucked her that morning, she stayed in bed and cried. She sobbed and screamed, cursing things that she normally would never say. Things that normally would make her flinch. The dog beneath the bed even cowered as she smacked and trashed at the bed. She closed her legs and pulled them up, horrified that he had touched her everywhere...That he was inside her for God's sake...It was revolting, she wondered how she could live another second from that point. Ashamed of her own body, disgusted with her inability to fight back...

Then, as she recounted the events from the night previous...It happened again. Her body throbbed in response, and her hands crept down to her crotch. She winced as she felt her wet, slick womanhood. When such a thing would happen before, she would forbid herself to even think about touching it. It was if it was forbidden. Now, however, she dashed away all doubts of sin. Surely, now she was already going to hell for Lust. Her clit exploded with sensation and her heart rate increased as she touched it. It was almost too powerful and sensitive, and yet it didn't turn her off, or away. She rubbed it vigorously as she closed her eyes and panted. Eventually she lay back, spreading her legs and masturbating furiously. Without shame, without care, heedless of anyone discovering her or if this very act was sending her to Hell or not...And especially of what her parents thought. She didn't even have to imagine a fantasy or creative scenario. Her hand kept busy, and her back arched off the bed as she cried out and came with passion.

And Fiona would have tried again had she not been so sure Riccardo heard it, or could see it happen this time...So she hurried, her head pounding with a sort of sensory-overloaded headache...Her legs were wobbly and ached at the joints. They had been spread far too much as of late...

Several hours later she got out of that stained bed, and re-dressed herself in the same clothes. She felt disgusting wearing used clothes, and never did take a shower the night before. She wasn't exactly accustomed to that feel. Girls her age normally were used to such things, after being out all night and sleeping in someone else's house and going to work the very next day. Filthy, smelling of sex and alcohol. Though she abhorred seeing such behavior...Deep down inside she knew the disgust was there as a defense mechanism. In reality, she envied them.

That still didn't mean she liked it...

"So...What am I to you, anyway...?"

Back in the present, he looked at her strangely, he tilted his head as if waiting for further explanation.

"Am I...Like, what? You're slave, you're mistress, you're...'girl' or what?"

Riccardo had to hold back his snarky comment, even a smile. He had to admit he was surprised she was even talking to him at all...Especially in such a confident manner.

"You're no slave, dear. You are my...Lady."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" She raised her voice.

"It means you are the Lady, and I am the Lord. Lorenzo being the former, of course..."

"I still don't follow you..."

"I didn't think you would. Listen, castle hierarchies work like this, my dear...There is the Lord and Lady, whom own the castle. Their servants can range from high to low. I was the steward, whom is to take care of the castle and it's grounds, as well as paying for bills, running errands, ect." As he said this, he waved his right hand to gesture.

"...We still have a Gardner, Debilitas...But our maid is no longer with us. So it's just us three, for now. And rest assured that Debilitas will no longer bother you."

She seemed to visibly shudder, and looked away, tears in her eyes. He didn't feel to pry, and she didn't want to elaborate.

"I will still accept the duty of a steward. I must. No one else can do as I have done; and I have done my job faithfully and dutifully for as long as I have been here. Yet now I take orders from only you, my love."

This caught her off guard, and she turned from her side-ways glare, looking at him plainly.

"What?" She asked in that simply adorable way...

"What do mean "what"? Surely you already know? I have told you, love, that this entire castle is all yours...You inherit it through Ugo. Yet I am also Lorenzo's creation, so by all rights I do as well. We are on a level playing field, and so the only one I can ever take orders from is you. As a matter of fact, as I am still the steward...consider me you're servant. My dear Fiona..."

He looked her in the eyes when he said it, and he watched her face contort into an expression of total confusion.

"Listen...I don't know what's going on here...I mean, I think I know...But as far as I'm concerned all of you are simply mad anyway...All this...Hierarchy stuff is just a whole lot of bullshit to me. It's all fancy talk for simply keeping others in control. This isn't the middle ages, Riccardo. It's modern times...And this is a home. A castle yes, but a home. And that means that everyone is equal-"

"M'lady, are you denying that there should be a head of a household?" Riccardo questioned.

There was a silence, and she looked off to the side, at her feet...Anywhere but his gaze.

"Well, yeah...Maybe I am."

Smiling, his mind worked to make sense of her sudden defiance. It made sense now. He knew Ugo, he knew how stubborn and controlling he was...

"Was you're father the head of you're home, Fiona?"

Fiona looked back at him, this time with fire in her eyes.

"You just never mind about my father...You know nothing about my father. How good a man he was..."

Riccardo smirked, and held back a laugh.

"Love! He was my brother! How quickly you forget...I know things about him you would never have. Things you would have never guessed, things I don't believe you ever would want to know..."

Before he could barely finish his sentence, Fiona took off in a huff, looking fairly pissed and storming off in such a way she looked like she could destroy anything that got in her path. His reaction was delayed, but there nonetheless.

"Fiona, wait!" He implored, and was ready to get up as his hand reached out towards her.

She surprised herself as she stopped still, her back towards him as she stood halfway towards the stone steps.

"Listen I...Haven't been with a woman in a long time. And I've never been with one as long as I have with you..."

She looked back with tears in her eyes...Yet her face was filled with anger. They were tears of rage, pent up and ready to explode with violence. No matter how petty she could deliver it.

"...And I'm afraid I have forgotten how to behave. I apologize, forgive me please for being so...Crude."

"You kill my parents...Rape me...Keep me prisoner in this Godforsaken...castle stuck in the fucking middle ages...! And all you can say...All you can say, is 'I'm sorry?"

There was no response on his end, his eyes were downcast, face as if it was made of stone. Then he looked at her in a stronger state, eyes connecting as blue eyes locked on blue. She wasn't happy...And now, ever since he had finally bonded with her in such a way...It now pained him more then ever to see her unhappy.

"Rape? Fiona, I never raped you. You kissed me back last night, and this morning...Well, I'll admit to being forceful. Possessive. Dominating...But a rapist I am not."

Now, Fiona was not one to anger quickly...Even malice in itself was something unbecoming and rather rare for the new woman. Yet she had to admit she had never been so close to exploding into a fit of absolute insane, psychopathic rage upon the clone sitting many feet away on that bench. And it wasn't all because she felt it he was in denial...It was because she didn't want to admit he was right.

He made her feel something that was wrong. It was inhuman and disgusting. And it terrified her. She was, again, a filthy whore...Only an absolute tramp, a street-walker, prostitute...Could feel such sensations from something so vile. At least they received money from it, all she got was a healthy set of stolen virginity matched with shame. He may have opened her legs, but she's the one that pushed him in towards the end. He may have kissed her, but she kissed back. She may have said "no", but she also screamed when she came, screamed so loud that she swore the walls shook and knick-knacks rattled on their shelves.

Whether it was really rape or not, she couldn't say. It felt like it...But she knew it wouldn't hold it's fair share in court if need be. Hell, none of this place would hold up very well in the world beyond it's gates. Perhaps it was best kept that way. Regardless, if it wasn't, then one thing was for certain. He had given her something far more despicable.

Guilt.

She didn't want to admit it, yet she couldn't deny the feelings. When he touched her, chased her, he put fear into her heart. And that quickened it, sent her body rushing and adrenaline pumping. The small, quiet girl that was sheltered all her life knew not of excitement. Didn't know what it was ever like to be grabbed and fucked mercilessly by someone older and more powerful then her. Especially by someone who couldn't be anything less then an absolute opposite of herself. The last person on planet Earth that should even be interested in her let alone fucking her. Trying to impregnate her. His soft, perfect touches on her placid, innocent body full of fear- made her blush from head to toe. Made those legs want to open faster then a mouse trap closes. And with someone ready to help with such an endeavor, how could she ever seek to remain a virgin long around him? Even the daughters of Lot, the man that fled Sodom didn't wait long to sleep with their father; thinking they were the last on Earth, seeking to procreate the entire world much like Adam and Eve. That story always made her want to gag. Yet now, with a different view...It made her sick on a whole new level.

"...Shut up. Just...Don't talk to me. Don't touch me, don't talk to me..." She started to mumble as her mousy nature took over again, and she turned around and tried to walk away.

"If you wish...Are you certain, however, you wouldn't want to sit with me and eat lunch? Did you get breakfast, at least...?"

Fiona had indeed caught breakfast in the kitchen after waking up...But she didn't speak. Only walked away and up the steps. Hewie followed behind rather slowly. She walked rather like the tired, shaken, emotionally drained zombie she was. Trough some rooms, down steps, hearing the sound of clocks and crackling fires. She stopped eventually at the store room. Crawling under the table, she wrapped her arms around her face and began to sob as loud as she could. Confident now in not being heard, even if this was her own castle. If he heard her, he might try to comfort her, and she wasn't exactly in the mood to have her legs spread again that day. Hewie joined her, resting below her as she wept. Her tone high and whiney, to the point of being silent. She closed her legs as tight as they would go, holding the dog close as his fur became wet.

Hewie didn't know why Fiona was so distraught. Dogs don't cry like humans do, so he couldn't identify. Yet he could understand that she was stressed, sad, broken. Emotions like this he could fathom. Make sense of. He licked her hands and panted afterwards, and even now Fiona found the dog comforting. Despite his so-called treachery. She sat there for a long time. Even after she was finished crying, she sat and stared...Mostly because she knew who laid beyond that door. She didn't want to face him again, wished even now that she was back home...

In the end it was because Fiona was the sorest of all possible losers...They were playing a game even now. Interrupted by the occasional break for food and sleep...And when caught, she knew she would be bedded without fail. And she would comply. Sure, she might fight, kick, protest...But those legs would open, and she would feel him inside her, and she would cry. Oh, how she would cry, and her tightness would embrace him, want him...Her skin would turn sensitive and when he touched it, she would moan so loud he would only go deeper and faster...!

Unbeknownst to her, lust had trapped her once again. She was rocking back in forth in her tight, leg-woven stance, and nearly made herself climax right there. She stopped in shame. This was all a game, she knew...She was the prey. He was the predator...

Fiona knew she was a fallen lamb in a den of wolves...

---

LATER...

---

Fiona spent the most of the day wondering the castle, playing with Hewie, wishing she had something to brush his lustrous coat with... Maybe she could use Daniella's old hairbrush, she figured. She took off in a run, the dog following blissfully by her side, his eyes never leaving her smiling face. It almost felt, to Fiona, that they were romping in slow motion. She was the happiest in the castle when with her dog, and she would protect the animal with her life.

As she passed the music room, she heard that distinctive piano playing again. A shiver flew up her spine, as she knew now that he was close...The piano couldn't play itself. She loved music, and was herself quite good at it. Her father seemed a but put off by this, not that he didn't want her to, but his reaction was always odd. Now she knew why, Riccardo also loved it, and probably other incarnations before him. It was genetic, and Ugo wanted nothing to do with his ancestry. He obviously didn't want his daughter to, either.

She pushed herself to enter the room, it reminded her heavily of when she first entered the castle. That terrifying statue had been removed, thank God. She had no idea at the time, however, how true it would become. Fiona took a seat close to where it had originally been, prompting a shutter from her, but it passed quick enough. She listened to his playing, it was wonderful, still no where near any level she had reached yet. When everything was just right, the music could be heard throughout the castle. It was relaxing, and she didn't care who played it.

What she found the most strange was that such wonderful music could come from such a horrible source. Music was supposed to come from the soul, from inside. If this was what Riccardo felt like from inside, then he sure didn't show much of it. For a moment she did nothing but listen, her head against the sofa as his tune became more and more attractive to her ears.

Riccardo knew that Fiona was below, he heard her come in. Unlike before, where he suddenly heard her footsteps and stopped. He kept playing, knowing that she loved his melody. These were one of the few times when Fiona actually walked in his direction, not away. He never invited Fiona to play yet, but knew she would want to, it ran in the Belli blood. Ugo never did take to it, yet that was no surprise...Ugo didn't have a creative bone in his body. In many ways, Ugo was not an exact clone.

However, Fiona still seemed to posses many of his own characteristics, although she didn't know it. She probably never would, either. When he felt relatively satisfied, happy even, he would make time to play his piano. He was hoping to get Fiona up here as well, she could benefit from a few lessons from him. The poor woman seemed bored to death around the castle.

He finished his current piece, and stood up from the stool. As he walked over to the balcony, he peered down at Fiona, who looked to be standing up herself. She jumped, it appeared, ten feet into the air in shock upon his sudden appearance. Taking a step back, she recollected herself.

"Why...Why did you stop?" She asked, her voice barely audible.

Riccardo smiled broadly, "I want you to come up here, I want to hear you play."

Fiona didn't need to be asked twice, and rushed out of the room. Something told him that she was very eager to do so, like she was just waiting to be asked. The door opened and she stepped through, a look on her face that only could be described as a sort of withheld jubilation. He gestured for her to sit down, and she did so, scooting upwards to fit comfortably by the keys. She was afraid to touch them, wanting to make a good first impression. But slowly, she began, playing the first keys of 'Moonlight Sonata'. She missed a few keys, but found herself doing a pretty good job otherwise.

She finished, and felt him standing over her like some teacher watching her progress.

"Good." He said in a rather satisfied and upbeat tone.

He sat next to her, his breath in her face, his right hand on her left. Riccardo flipped some more pages of the book, resting on a new tune.

"Now, play this one, my dear..."

For some time the two sat like this, Fiona played as he sat next to her, infatuated with the woman. She didn't seem to mind all that much as she struck cord after cord, her melody getting better with each squeeze by his hand on hers.

"Wonderful." He remarked as she finished her third tune.

"Beautiful and talented...My dear, are you positive the Gods did not send you down from the heavens?"

Fiona just sat there, her face blushing just a little. Nobody ever complimented her playing before, in school she always finished last. She was even asked if she should just transfer to something else, after all, she wasn't getting any better. She still loved it though, and fought with the teachers to assure them she was getting better. And here was a man, the last one on the planet she would expect to make her feel good emotionality...He was complimenting her playing, when it was in reality, she felt, much less better than his own.

"You're just saying that..." She told the man, not really believing what he had told her. He probably just wanted to get back into her pants again...Actually, it would be her skirt…

"Oh, no, my dear. You are much better than I would ever have thought. It's quite relieving to see someone else in this forlorn place actually be able to play." He kissed down her neck, his voice true, unwavering.

His arms wound about Fiona, his kissing getting more intimate. At first she wanted to push him off, a bit tired by his almost constant advances. But something about it relaxed Fiona, made her sigh, yet made her want to scream. She could feel each scar on his face on her skin, the way he nuzzled her cheek, the way his skin slid over hers... She moaned a bit in his embrace, wondering how in god's name she ever let things get this far...

This woman had been an answer to his pines, his cries of anguish, his nightmarish dreams. Her very presence invigorated him, her love made him feel again, and her blood was something of a new drug to his diseased and aging body. He knew he was aging faster than a normal man...Despite having a visibly younger body than his brother Ugo did. His scars, growing worse by the years, and his insides aged at an accelerated rate. Taking supplements from animals was the only choice he had. But these were rather like using aspirin to treat cancer pains. It was mere but a stone against some monster, barely slowing it enough. He had no real feeling of health afterwards, it just didn't feel like he was dying for a few moments, that's all.

But this? This was different...It was like a breath of fresh air times a million. He still felt good, like a million goddamn bucks, and with a smile on his face, he kissed her lips again. He needed to test her for pregnancy...The other thing, the main thing, the woman was to be used for. If she could do this as well, to think, she would be his savior.

She was Eve, and for a moment Riccardo wondered...Was he Adam, or the snake...?