Photograghic Memory
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
31
Views:
9,797
Reviews:
71
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
31
Views:
9,797
Reviews:
71
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
Chapter 3
Title: Photographic Memory
Word Count:1310
Warning: This chapter.. none
Disclaimer: This is fiction. I don't own these people or the characters; I have never even met them. There is no profit being gained from this. Full disclaimer on first chapter
Chapter 3
*********
Viggo wandered around the house for awhile. He liked doing that, going from room to room, just soaking up the feelings, the energy it gave him.
Once he had thought he heard someone talking, but it must have been the wind in a chimney, or the house settling. The security system was the latest thing. No one could get in here. He had made sure of that for Orli's sake. Poor boy couldn't go anywhere without being mobbed.
His wandering brought him back to the master bedroom. He considered lighting a fire in the fireplace, decided against it, and just settled back on the bed.
He pulled out his *favorite* photos again. How could something as simple as ink on paper have so much power over people? His "closest, closet friends" was how old Beanie had put it.
It all had to do with secrets, secrets of the soul.
He honestly believed alcohol was the camera's best friend. It lowered people's inhibitions; they were more true to their nature when they weren't worried about what others thought.
These pictures were honesty. Not anything he would intentionally hold over anyone's head.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Scan them. That's what he could do. Scan them and save them to a disk, then give them their pictures to do with as they pleased.
No.
Scanning and saving them, yes, but he enjoyed the power these photos gave him too much.
Viggo looked through them one last time and placed the ones of Elijah on top. He would call him tomorrow. Then he locked them in their box and locked the box in the safe. He never left them sitting out, never took chances with these photos. Orlando was the only other person that could get at these pictures. Orlando was the only person he completely trusted. Orlando would never betray him.
He stripped down, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. Into their bed, the bed that held some many memories. Fragmented images of only Orlando flittered through his mind as Viggo would take him, mark him, and make him his own.
The pictures of the others had been taken before he and Orlando had become one. They had picked this bed out together and it was thoughts of Orlando, and no one else, that drifted through his mind as he fell asleep.
Through the heavy cloud of slumber he never saw the fire smoke and catch in the fireplace. He slept on through the night enjoying the warmth it provided, blissfully unaware.
Viggo woke before dawn, not quite sure exactly what it was that disturbed his slumber.
Not that it really mattered; he often woke before the sun and had plenty to keep him busy. He lay there, listening to the wind blowing outside, thinking about all the things that he wanted to get accomplished that day.
He stretched and yawned, sleep still tugging at him, not sure if he wanted to get up or stay in the warmth the bed offered. His eyes closed as he started to drift off.
THUD
His eyes snapped open, "What the.."
While trying to decide whether or not he had dreamed it, he heard a scrapping, dragging noise coming from above. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness.
That's coming from the attic.
Viggo sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The instant his feet hit the floor the scrapping stopped followed by another "Thud", as whatever was being dragged was suddenly dropped.
He jumped up, grabbed his pants and headed for the bedroom door. It was then that his brain kicked in.
If there was someone in the house, (and it certainly sounded that way), he was totally unarmed. They might not be.
He crept back to the bed and bent down to retrieve the box under it, sliding it out quietly. He lifted the lid and felt around with his hands. The handcuffs were useless; they had a safety release on them. The whip might be useful, and the length of chain felt heavy enough. He grabbed these and pushed the box back.
Now, he wanted to find out who the hell had gotten into his house. How and why would come later.
He listened from the doorway. The house was silent. Looking around before he stepped into the hall, he could see nothing but the pitch-black darkness. Viggo quickly debated the pros and cons of turning on the light. He knew his way around in the dark, but couldn't see if anyone was there. Viggo quickly walked to the light switch and flipped it on.
The bright light immediately illuminated the hall and stairs. The first obvious thing Viggo noticed were the attic stairs, or lack of. The door was shut. You couldn't shut it from inside the attic. The ladder that slid down had to be pushed up from the bottom. You couldn't reach the bottom half of the ladder to pull it up unless you were standing on the upper half. It wouldn't work.
When he had first discovered this fact it had made him think about the little girl that had died up there. Someone had to have shut the door without looking for her.
He approached the square in the ceiling slowly. The rope that hung down stood perfectly still. He began to wonder if he had really heard anything at all.
He checked the other rooms upstairs and found nothing except an open window, which he shut. He came back to the hall and stared at the square in the ceiling.
He briefly considered calling the police and letting them check it out. Only briefly, however, the caption "King of Gondor Calls Cops After Hearing a Bump in the Night" flashed through his mind.
As he reached for the rope he couldn't help thinking about every horror movie he had seen where unsuspecting people go into dark, creepy rooms, (usually with the power out,) and end up as monster food. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about ending up as a virgin sacrifice.” He chuckled softly as he pulled the rope down causing the ladder to creak and unfold.
Keeping an eye on the ladder he slowly moved to the hall closet. He tucked the whip into his back pocket by the handle and stuffed enough of the chain in his front pocket to hold it in, before grabbing the flashlight.
He paused at the foot of the ladder looking up into the dark entrance. 'When I stick my head through there, someone with an axe will take it right off', kept playing over in his mind.
’Right, no more horror movies for me, I don't care how much Orli likes them. Hmmm, of course, there is a lot to be gained from a scared, clingy Orli.’ He grabbed the ladder and started up.
He managed to climb through into the attic with his head still firmly attached and flashed the light around. The footprints in the dust from the last time he was up here lay undisturbed. He made his way to the light and pulled the chain.
There were several pieces of furniture left by the previous occupants, but not much else. After a complete search he found nothing. He turned off the light and headed back down.
After shutting the trap door and putting away the flashlight he went downstairs to check the status of the alarm system.
A complete search of the downstairs proved to be just as fruitless. Feeling slightly foolish, and a little more than uneasy, he decided it must have been a dream. He lit a cigarette, started coffee, and began his day. He kept ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that wanted to remind him that he had been wide-awake at the time.
~Continued~
Word Count:1310
Warning: This chapter.. none
Disclaimer: This is fiction. I don't own these people or the characters; I have never even met them. There is no profit being gained from this. Full disclaimer on first chapter
Chapter 3
*********
Viggo wandered around the house for awhile. He liked doing that, going from room to room, just soaking up the feelings, the energy it gave him.
Once he had thought he heard someone talking, but it must have been the wind in a chimney, or the house settling. The security system was the latest thing. No one could get in here. He had made sure of that for Orli's sake. Poor boy couldn't go anywhere without being mobbed.
His wandering brought him back to the master bedroom. He considered lighting a fire in the fireplace, decided against it, and just settled back on the bed.
He pulled out his *favorite* photos again. How could something as simple as ink on paper have so much power over people? His "closest, closet friends" was how old Beanie had put it.
It all had to do with secrets, secrets of the soul.
He honestly believed alcohol was the camera's best friend. It lowered people's inhibitions; they were more true to their nature when they weren't worried about what others thought.
These pictures were honesty. Not anything he would intentionally hold over anyone's head.
At least, that's what he told himself.
Scan them. That's what he could do. Scan them and save them to a disk, then give them their pictures to do with as they pleased.
No.
Scanning and saving them, yes, but he enjoyed the power these photos gave him too much.
Viggo looked through them one last time and placed the ones of Elijah on top. He would call him tomorrow. Then he locked them in their box and locked the box in the safe. He never left them sitting out, never took chances with these photos. Orlando was the only other person that could get at these pictures. Orlando was the only person he completely trusted. Orlando would never betray him.
He stripped down, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. Into their bed, the bed that held some many memories. Fragmented images of only Orlando flittered through his mind as Viggo would take him, mark him, and make him his own.
The pictures of the others had been taken before he and Orlando had become one. They had picked this bed out together and it was thoughts of Orlando, and no one else, that drifted through his mind as he fell asleep.
Through the heavy cloud of slumber he never saw the fire smoke and catch in the fireplace. He slept on through the night enjoying the warmth it provided, blissfully unaware.
Viggo woke before dawn, not quite sure exactly what it was that disturbed his slumber.
Not that it really mattered; he often woke before the sun and had plenty to keep him busy. He lay there, listening to the wind blowing outside, thinking about all the things that he wanted to get accomplished that day.
He stretched and yawned, sleep still tugging at him, not sure if he wanted to get up or stay in the warmth the bed offered. His eyes closed as he started to drift off.
THUD
His eyes snapped open, "What the.."
While trying to decide whether or not he had dreamed it, he heard a scrapping, dragging noise coming from above. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness.
That's coming from the attic.
Viggo sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The instant his feet hit the floor the scrapping stopped followed by another "Thud", as whatever was being dragged was suddenly dropped.
He jumped up, grabbed his pants and headed for the bedroom door. It was then that his brain kicked in.
If there was someone in the house, (and it certainly sounded that way), he was totally unarmed. They might not be.
He crept back to the bed and bent down to retrieve the box under it, sliding it out quietly. He lifted the lid and felt around with his hands. The handcuffs were useless; they had a safety release on them. The whip might be useful, and the length of chain felt heavy enough. He grabbed these and pushed the box back.
Now, he wanted to find out who the hell had gotten into his house. How and why would come later.
He listened from the doorway. The house was silent. Looking around before he stepped into the hall, he could see nothing but the pitch-black darkness. Viggo quickly debated the pros and cons of turning on the light. He knew his way around in the dark, but couldn't see if anyone was there. Viggo quickly walked to the light switch and flipped it on.
The bright light immediately illuminated the hall and stairs. The first obvious thing Viggo noticed were the attic stairs, or lack of. The door was shut. You couldn't shut it from inside the attic. The ladder that slid down had to be pushed up from the bottom. You couldn't reach the bottom half of the ladder to pull it up unless you were standing on the upper half. It wouldn't work.
When he had first discovered this fact it had made him think about the little girl that had died up there. Someone had to have shut the door without looking for her.
He approached the square in the ceiling slowly. The rope that hung down stood perfectly still. He began to wonder if he had really heard anything at all.
He checked the other rooms upstairs and found nothing except an open window, which he shut. He came back to the hall and stared at the square in the ceiling.
He briefly considered calling the police and letting them check it out. Only briefly, however, the caption "King of Gondor Calls Cops After Hearing a Bump in the Night" flashed through his mind.
As he reached for the rope he couldn't help thinking about every horror movie he had seen where unsuspecting people go into dark, creepy rooms, (usually with the power out,) and end up as monster food. "Well, at least I don't have to worry about ending up as a virgin sacrifice.” He chuckled softly as he pulled the rope down causing the ladder to creak and unfold.
Keeping an eye on the ladder he slowly moved to the hall closet. He tucked the whip into his back pocket by the handle and stuffed enough of the chain in his front pocket to hold it in, before grabbing the flashlight.
He paused at the foot of the ladder looking up into the dark entrance. 'When I stick my head through there, someone with an axe will take it right off', kept playing over in his mind.
’Right, no more horror movies for me, I don't care how much Orli likes them. Hmmm, of course, there is a lot to be gained from a scared, clingy Orli.’ He grabbed the ladder and started up.
He managed to climb through into the attic with his head still firmly attached and flashed the light around. The footprints in the dust from the last time he was up here lay undisturbed. He made his way to the light and pulled the chain.
There were several pieces of furniture left by the previous occupants, but not much else. After a complete search he found nothing. He turned off the light and headed back down.
After shutting the trap door and putting away the flashlight he went downstairs to check the status of the alarm system.
A complete search of the downstairs proved to be just as fruitless. Feeling slightly foolish, and a little more than uneasy, he decided it must have been a dream. He lit a cigarette, started coffee, and began his day. He kept ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that wanted to remind him that he had been wide-awake at the time.
~Continued~