Once again, it's that time of year. Happy Halloween everyone. Enjoy this latest chapter.

Pealing Back Perfection

Ch 3: White Room

By: Helena F. Lupin

Everything felt hazy. He kept his lids shut because he knew opening them with the headache he had pounding behind his eyes would be a bad idea. It did not take him long to realize his wrists were tied behind his back, and his ankles were bound together. There was a gag tied tightly across his mouth as well. When he realized those additions he did open his eyes.

He was curled up on a black leather seat in the back of a car. He glanced out the window above his head and found absolute darkness with blazing specks for stars, and darker shadows of trees flashing by. He shifted his gaze toward the front seat, outlined by the bright green numbers of the clock on the dashboard. Music was playing softly, but he was too distressed to pay much attention to it. His breathing sped up as a hand reached down to switch it off.

"Awake yet?" A low, soft voice murmured. He knew that voice. The man shifted slightly and turned his head toward Cyn. The teacher who had been helping him with decorations. Those eyes that had smiled at him were now nothing but voids. There was nothing of human emotion there. There was something much more frightening. A base desire that Cyn could not read. But it made him shudder and curl up tighter.

The man chuckled softly and turned back to the road. "Don't worry, Cyn." He said the other's name with such loving care. "I've made everything ready for you. Everything perfect. You won't be disappointed with me. Not like the others." He frowned.

Cyn tried to remember how he had ended up in this situation. He remembered heading to his car for more decorations...he remembered hearing this man walking behind him...then the smell...something a little burning on a cloth shoved against his face. He barely remembered fighting back because he had passed out so quickly. It had been light then. How late was it now?

Tears began to sting Cyn's eyes when the man glanced back again. The car was slammed on breaks instantly. Cyn had to put his feet against the back of the guy's seat to keep from being slung forward. The driver side door opened and the man got out. Cyn felt fear spike in his stomach, sending a shiver along his spine. The door at his feet opened and he tried kicking on reflex, but it did little good. The man slid into the back with him, sitting there and pulling Cyn into his lap, wrapping his arms around him.

A cold draft slipped in through the open door, shattering the warmth that had been built up by the heater. Cyn tried struggling, but soon gave up when he realized it did no good. When he was still for a few minutes, the man slid out of the car and took Cyn with him. Cyn was afraid he was about to be killed and dumped, but instead the man just kicked the door shut and slid back into the driver's seat with Cyn in his lap. Cyn was not very big, so it was not much of a hindrance.

"Don't worry." That deep, soothing voice murmured in his ear. Cyn shivered. This was so not good. What was this guy's name again? He tired hard to recall it. Mr. Trace, was that not the name he had given to him? It had to be fake.

Lips touched Cyn's temple, making him jerk back. His words were muffled against the gag. It did little good to complain or shout. The man restarted the car and soon was driving once more, keeping Cyn curled up in his lap, holding him almost protectively with one arm.

The drive was long, a few hours. Daylight began to creep across the sky when they finally stopped at a cabin in the mountains. Cyn wanted to laugh, but instead more tears came. Of all the cliche spots on earth to die! The man slid out of the car, carrying him carefully, gently. The cabin was two stories, and it looked so normal, so clean and homey. But the room he was taken to looked sterile and white. The walls were white, the carpet was white, the couch and two chairs around a flat plasma tv against the wall were white leather, the bed was a white wooden frame with white sheets and comforter. Even the lights were uncovered, leaving them as blinding white. But there was one thing of color in the room. It was laid out across the comforter.

It looked like a spill of fresh blood and shadows. Black pants that would fit like a second skin, the material looked like silk, so fine it was as liquid as water. The red stood out the most. Blazing. The shirt was scarlet, and looked like it consisted mainly of twisting ribbons. Cyn had no choice but to change into it when the other finally put him down and drew the knife out. His gag was removed and he was cut free. Then he was ordered to dress. Which he did. Despite not wanting the other to see him naked. There was no getting the underwear under those pants, all of it had to go.

There was a layer of red fabric that covered like a long sleeved shirt, but there were twisting ribbons all over it, swirling around his stomach and chest, around his arms, and here and there between the crisscrossing sections there were open points for skin to snow. The shirt fell to about mid-thigh, but up one side there was a slit up one side to his hip.

"Perfect." He murmured once Cyn was dressed. He gathered up the other clothes, the ones not meant to grace Cyn's perfection, and walked out the room, slamming the door and locking it.

Cyn looked around slowly. No doors. No other pieces of furniture. There was a door. But it only led to a bathroom that was just as white as the other room. But there were crystal bottles with different soaps and such in them. He felt like some expensive pet!

Cyn slid down the wall out in the bedroom once more. Well, more like a bedroom and livingroom in one, it was just so huge. He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his forehead on them. What now? He wrapped his arms around his legs and tried to think of a plan. No way in hell was he just going to die quietly.

One room over, his captor was watching him through a dozen computer monitors that lined his bedroom walls.