Love Lost and Found

He was whistling as he slammed the car door shut, balancing bags from the various shops he had been to in his arms. Somehow he managed to lock the door without letting anything drop. Even the tofu he had bought for Orlando, which was laying dangerously close to the rim of the rim if the brown paper-bag, stayed where it was supposed to. Filming had progressed quickly that morning and he had decided to go shopping on his way home. Even the Hobbits hadn’t played a prank on anyone today, they were still shocked by the news of Orlando’s car accident. He knew they’d need the food when the Hobbit’s would come over later that evening. It was only early afternoon and he hoped that Orlando’s mood would be as good as it had been that morning. His face lit into a smile as he thought of his “housemate” as he had come to think of him. //He seems to be recovering swiftly.... perhaps some company was all he needed to cheer him up...// Grinning happily now he pressed the door bell, hoping that Orlando would open, because his arms were too full of bags to search for the keys in his pocket. Starting to whistle again he waited. And waited some more. A worried frown settled upon his features as a few more minutes passed. //What the fuck has happened?//

He jumped in surprise as the door bell suddenly rang. //Dammit!// he cursed //Mortensen is back! He’s too early! I’m not finished with my little whore yet...// He grimaced as he heard Mortensen whistlhe ahe actor truly seemed to have a knack for getting in the way. Thoughtfully he stared at the knife in his hand, pondering what to do now. //It would be a pity to finish Orlando so soon....// he thought //But Mortensen is alreat tat the door...// Finally he reached a decision and went into the corridor, the knife still in his hand.

//This can’t be good... something must have happened!// Viggo decided and set the bags aside. He had to get in and it had to be now. //Who knows what Orlando might have been up to...//
“Orlando?” he called out as he stepped inside, hoping for an answer. “Orlando?” He called again but only an eerie quiet greeted him. “Orlando, please! Answer me! Where are you?” He tried again. “Orlando?” He turned round the corner and froze in shock as a hot wave of pain invaded his stomach. //Red...// he thought as he looked down. Red blood was spilling over the silvery blade of the knife that had been buried in his stomach. //There’s a hand attached to the knife...// he suddenly noticed, almost laughing out loud at the absurdity of the thought. He followed the hand and the arm with his eyes, till his gaze finally rested on two burning, green eyes in a black sky mask. He groaned as the attacker twisted the knife within him. //The eyes... you know these eyes...// was the last thing he thought before everything went black.

He groaned as he awoke and closed his eyes again. The man was gone, he noticed as he listened carefully. //No... not really gone... there’s someone in the corridor!// He lay motionless, hoping that the attacker would let him be, if he kept quiet. After a while he heard the front door slam. //Viggo...// was his first thought //Viggo must have come home... he’ll get help!// Slowly he pushed himself up on his elbows. //If Viggo went to get help,// he thought //Then the attacker must still be here... and he’s probably angry.... very angry....// Shuddering he got ign ignoring his aching body and tip-toed to the staircase. His room was upstairs and he was still naked. He had to get dressed. Suddenly a step creaked. He froze in his steps, his heart missing a beat as he listened into the silence. //Maybe he has gone...// he thought and then quickly corrected himself //No... he must be here.... otherwise Viggo would still be here... if he got Viggo...// He closed his eyes and gulped loudly. //No!// he repeated to himself //Viggo must have escaped... I heard the door... he has to be safe!//
He quickly got into his room, locked the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily.
//I did it! The door... get away from the door... if he tries to break it down...// He struggled to calm his breathing and then dressed, as quickly as he could. Boxers, jeans, shirt, he didn’t really care. He had never felt so sick and dirty before. He could still smell the ,an on his skin and longed to take a shower to wash the stench away, to scrub away the feeling of the man’s hands on him, that was still ghosting over his skin.
//Taking a shower would make noise...// he reasoned with himself //You mustn’t make a sound...//
He stood in the middle of the room, hands at his sides and unsure what to do. His whole body ached and he felt the warm trickle of blood on his throat from where his wound had reopened to a dull, throbbing pain. //Viggo will get help.// He kept on telliimseimself. //But why isn’t help already here?// He stood motionless and listened for a few minutes.
//You have to go downstairs...// he finally decided. //What if Viggo didn’t get away and needs help?// He crept downstairs, ready to turn and run as soon as he heard something. The living room was empty. He stepped into the corridor to the kitchen and froze in shock as he took in the sight in front of him.
//No...// he moaned softly “This cannot be...” He hid his face in his hands and started to rock softly back and forth, crying aumblumbling all the time. “No... please not...”
He forced himself to approach Viggo, who was laying face down on the carpet, a puddle of blood arouim. im. “No... please... be alive...” he whispered. Bile rose in his throat as he turned Viggo around and saw the knife. His eyes widened impossibly. “No...” absent-mindedly he grasped the hilt of the knife and then drew back.
//Don’t pull it out... that will only worsen the bleeding...// the last rational part of his mind reminded him. He checked carefully for a pulse but he couldn’t detect one. Tears ran freely over his face now.
//No... he killed him... he was only here because of me... the man knew who I was... he never meant to harm Viggo... he killed Viggo because of me... I killed Viggo! Viggo wouldn’t be dead now, if you hadn’t been too stupid to kill yourself! You can’t do anything right, not even committing suicide!//
He raced upstairs, grabbed a few items he had hidden in his room earlier and ran out of the house. //Viggo is dead because of you!// was the only thing he was capable of thinking.

Tbc...