Stockholm Obverse part 1

Intervals of light from the lampposts flashes through the car as it sped down the highway. Wayne's hearted pounded in his chest as he pushed the gas pedal to the floor. He had just kidnapped a woman. Officially making himself a criminal. Adrenaline coursed through his veins at the thought, making his mouth salivate. He adjusted the rearview mirror so he could peer at his victim once more. Her beautiful black hair sprawled across her face and all over the back seat in a beautiful mess. He imagined burying his nose in her hair and being deep inside her; the thought making his jeans a size smaller in the front.

He has watched her for the last month and half, careful to keep his distance as he inconspicuously followed her around the giant hardware store that she worked at. Most people disregarded her, ignoring her or being off put by her demeanor. Most people didn't bother asking for her assistance, but this didn't stop him from adoring her. In all his time carefully stalking her around the store he began to know her patterns and routine by heart. Everyday she would arrive for her shift around three and leave every night at closing, always seemingly having no where to be. Every night, when everyone else had left, she would sit outside on the curb by herself and sometimes light a joint she had tucked away under a hollow stone. Most nights, she would put in her headphones and sway to whatever music she was listening to on her iPod. Sometimes she would just wait there, although nothing or no one would show up. She was peculiar and unlike anything he had ever seen before, a tropical rose in the desolate deserts of Nevada. He'd watch her sway and dance in the smoke of her joints, as if no one was watching. Not like there was anyone around to witness her beauty anyway right? Nonetheless, she lived in her own world, as if it weren't connected to the same world as everyone else. He wanted to own her and the world she lived in. Sometimes he imagined her a rare butterfly and himself being the one to capture her. Now the moment was his; she was his, all wrapped up as an unconscious present in his back seat, and he couldn't wait to get her home.

A brand new custom cage lay in wait just for her. He had made many questionable purchases over the last month and a half. Chains, bolts, sound proofing foam, and master locks. everything he thought he would need to make a suitable area to hold her in place. Although he tried to remain low profile he wondered is she ever noticed him at all, or perhaps just hoped she had. He couldn't recall her ever gracing him with her eyes, but even if she didn't he'd have her full attention now. On the passenger side seat lay the iPod she would listen to every night. taking the iPod into his hands, he turned it on, curious about the songs she would get lost in. To his surprise, there was one one song set on repeat, "Terrible Thing" By Brad Gordon. He put in the headphones, and let the ominous tune fill his ears. He took one more look into the rearview mirror and continued down the deserted highway.

Somewhere off the highway exit, the car screeched to a halt outside an, old run-down house. Moving quickly, he ripped the headphones out of his ears, turned off the ignition, and headed to the back of the car to scoop her into his arms. Her long black tresses fall gracefully around her, and the heat of her body pressed firmly against him. Euphoric satisfaction flowed through him as he gushed at the thought of finally having caught his rare butterfly. Time ticked in his head as he rushed past the green veranda and in through the creaky doors. The warm body in his arms lay lifeless and heavy, swaying back and forth as he made his way through the house and into the basement. Carefully down the wooden stairs and into the dark room where his holding area was set and ready. Past the hanging curtains and into the large darkened room where a bed had been modified and set for his beautiful prisoner. He eased her onto the cool fabric of the mattress, pausing for another hungry glance at the face hidden under a pool of silky black tresses. Time had seemed to stop for him in that moment, making him strangely more aware of the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat. Snapping himself back, he removed the chain necklace he had made just for her from the side of the bed. Dryness filled his throat, almost choking him as he pulled the chain under and around her neck. Gulping hard at the fear and excitement, he attentively freed any of her precious locks from getting suck in the chain. Finally after a minute of fiddling amongst the warmth of her neck, he attached a large lock onto the thick chain necklace. Strategically connecting the pieces to a longer length of chain, he brought the end of the chain to the back of the headboard, where a metal bar had be securely bolted into place. He wrapped the chain once more around the metal bar and secured it with another lock, confident in his handiwork. Just enough chain to keep her in place but not enough for her to run.

A quiet groan reached his ears, and his heart dropped to his stomach. His eyes widened, darting to her direction. Her head shifted slightly against the sheets. Could this be it? Was she finally waking up, and would she scream? Should her mouth have been taped shut just in case? He slid off the bed into a crouching position and backed away, careful not to make a sound. Placing himself just behind the somewhat thick burgundy curtains and just out of sight, the chains clanked faintly, and he could see her moving. Her hands roamed across the sheets as she came back into consciousness. The darkness of her hair spilled over the sides of her face, keeping it hidden as she raised herself up. He watched her quietly, waiting for the moment to come when her screams would fill his ears. Her hands tugged at the chain around her neck, but still no scream. Sweat had begun to form on his brow as he waited for her apparent daze to wear off. Bringing herself onto her knees, she tugged once more at the chain to no avail. There were no tears on her face, no sign of panic. To his surprise, she propped up the pillows up against the headboard and rested back against them, crossing her legs and seemingly making herself more comfortable. Although the room was dark, he could see her well enough to watch her push her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear on one side. He watched curiously wondering where was the reaction he'd assumed she would have. Why isn't she panicking, the thought repeated over and over in his head. He watched her closely as her hand reached into her bra, fiddling for something. First, a clinking sound, and then the rasp of a lighter. The fire illuminated her features, lighting up the emerald green of her eyes that beemed right in his direction. Her gaze was unsettling, fierce even, but not fearful or panicked at all. He gulped hard at the knot in his throat.

"Apparently, I'm not going anywhere, and at some point, you're going to come out from behind that curtain," she said calmly.

The rhythm of his heart beat so loudly in his ears he was sure she could hear it too. He wanted her so badly, and now she was here, but if only he knew what to do next. Perhaps he hadn't thought this all the way through. A minute seemed like an eternity as his mind scrambled over what to do next. As he weighed his odds, she kept her gaze pinned in his direction. Finally after a dragged out minute of contemplation, he stepped out from behind the curtain into the light where she could see him.