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EL DIAVOLO
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner ITALIA
I wondered how long I just sat there, staring at him. Alejandro wasn’t bad to look at, hell, he was very good looking to say the least but I was more propelled by fear to run as fast as possible when he was in the same vicinity as me.He looked like he was about to say something when the door creaked open, Capello walked in, his gaze bouncing from me to Alejandro.“You’re taking her shopping.” My jaw fell open in surprise but Capello wasn’t. In fact, he looked quite upset.“That’s not what you said over the phone.” He scowled and then turned to me, who was on the edge of my seat, expecting him to divulge the details of their earlier call. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to know if he’d really said he was going to shoot me.Alejandro simply raised a brow at him and folded his arms.“Well, I’m not taking her.”“I thought it was a fucking emergency Ale. What does she need clothes for?” I cocked my head in anger.“She, is right here and she isn’t some 12th century slave. What is your problem?
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner DANGER OUTSIDE HOME
I walked into the road and I was amazed at the colours that greeted me, the city was so alive and bright. I almost bumped into someone and they apologised first. It was a culture shock, considering where I lived for all my life, I definitely would’ve been cussed out for it.“Okay, now what?” I asked myself as I looked ahead of the bustling city. I had no money on me so I couldn’t get a cab, I also couldn’t afford to look lost in this kind of place. Chances were, people knew who Capello was and if he was searching for me, they wouldn’t hesitate to tell him they saw a little crazy-eyed girl walking around.I picked up my pace, the first thing I needed to do was to get as far away from Capello as quickly as I could.After walking for what felt like hours, but probably minutes due to my hurt leg, I rounded the corner of another street. Why the hell were there so many streets?I looked around and stopped, a shiver running down my spine. It might have been years ago, but I remembered the st
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
I groaned as I turned, my headache banging with so much pain. I sat up and tried to move my legs so I could use the toilet but I heard a loud jangle. My legs couldn't move. I opened my eyes "What the fuck!" One of my legs was chained to the bed post. "Hey!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs despite having a headache. "Let me the fuck out of these chains. I'm not a fucking slave!" When I didn’t hear anything, I started grabbing whatever I could find and threw it against the door. How did I even end up at his house? The last thing I remembered was... Slowly, everything came rushing back, the lady who tried to hand me over to Alejandro and I ran away only to end up back in his house. I grabbed the lamp and threw it, I hadn't expected the door to swing open right at that time. Alejandro ducked just in time and the lamp went right outside, and shattered behind him. He didn't bother looking back, he narrowed his eyes at me and my hands fell to the side. Maybe if it had hit him r
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner CONFLICTIONS
After I woke up from my sleep, I dragged my hands over my face feeling very sore. The room was in the state I’d left it and I groaned.I spent a good hour trying to get the room back to what it was before my outburst. It was still quite early but if I wanted to have the place ‘sparkling’ for my jailor, I couldn’t go back to sleep.Once I was done, I went into the main living area and saw Alejandro sipping what seemed to be coffee, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.It was the bags on the chair, there were several and my brows shot up to the roof of my head.‘Are you travelling?’ I wanted to ask but I was giving him the silent treatment for what he’d done so far.Instead, I completely ignored him and went into the pantry to get started on work – his work. Before I could take two steps forward, he spoke.“These are yours.” I snapped my head towards him and confirmed that he was actually talking to me.“What?” He gave me a look and I rolled my eyes at him. He didn’t repeat himself
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner THE CURSE OF A MAN
The room was dark but it had a staircase that led downstairs, it was the weirdest thing I’d ever come across in my life.If one was going to have a dungeon, surely it’d be built from the ground floor and down.I tried as much as possible to not fall on my face but the stairs seemed endless until I could hear a few murmurs from below me.I frowned at the sound and wondered who was around. Last I checked, only Alejandro and I were around but I was hearing multiple voices.“Per favore, non lo so!” (Please, I don’t know anything!) That voice sounded very familiar, way too familiar.“Bugiardo! Lo so tutto.” ( Liar! I know everything.) It was clear who roared and I feared what I was walking into but I couldn’t stop walking. I was at the bottom staircase where backs were turned to me.I didn’t need to see the face to know whose body it belonged to, Capello and Alejandro had quite different physiques.They both stood as though they were ready for war and I got a sickening sense of deja vu, the
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner DEATH AND ITS WIELDER
For the next couple of days, I mourned Anselmo and avoided Alejandro like a plague. I didn’t cook and I didn’t clean anything, he could shoot me for all he wanted. He shouldn’t have killed an innocent man.I pushed back the part of my mind that threatened to question everything I knew, there was no fucking way that Anselmo was watching me for 4 years, it just wasn’t possible.I sighed as I got out of bed and prepared myself for the day. I realised that staying in my room all day and night just made me think up the worst things possible and I would welcome any distraction. The bathroom hosted me for almost an hour before I decided to get out. I picked out very short shorts and a tank top because the heat was still terrible, even my hair was up out of my face and up in a bun.I opened the door slightly, checking for any traces of Alejandro but the house was silent as night. I heaved a sigh of relief and found my way to the living room, it was empty as I suspected, there was no one in si
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner ENSNARED
Capello was seated on the chair beside Alejandro while I was stuck in the kitchen, cooking. It was a welcome distraction for the event week I’d experienced at Alejandro’s house. They were speaking in Italian and it was pissing me off. Maybe if I had a phone… I slammed the knife hard on the chopping board… I would have google-translated a couple of those words and I wouldn’t worry if they were planning my death.“Can you ease up on the cooking?” I tightened my hold on the knife and pointed it at him.“Fine.” I said and turned back to the meat I was chopping up, Capello looked thoroughly amused and I wanted to throw the knife at him next.In the next hour, spaghetti and meatballs was ready, it possibly couldn’t get any Italian than that. I served the food and called them to the table, like the servant I was.I stood behind them, a creepy smile on my face as I watched them eat. Alejandro lifted his spoon to his mouth and paused when he saw my face. He frowned and took another look at his
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner SCINTILLA
My brain seized functioning even as Alejandro rounded the corner, he stopped walking immediately he saw me standing like flagpole.“What are you doing here?” He peered behind me, looking straight at the door I was backing and frowned.When I didn’t answer, his frown only deepened, he took a step further and my flight or fight mode kicked in out of fear.I ran past him, downstairs and then into my room, my chest heaving as I crashed to the floor. If I hadn’t been running for my life, I would have laughed at the shocked expression on Alejandro’s face – but what the hell had I done?I ran my hand through my hair, I looked up when I remembered I was holding something, “Oh, this…” I almost chuckled to myself at how rumpled it looked now.“Wait…” I searched frantically through the papers and realised one was missing.“No no no no…” Of all the papers that could have gone missing, it was the one I’d drawn of him. My mind started to run through many possibilities.‘would he find it? And if he d
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Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner SCINTILLA
My brain seized functioning even as Alejandro rounded the corner, he stopped walking immediately he saw me standing like flagpole.“What are you doing here?” He peered behind me, looking straight at the door I was backing and frowned.When I didn’t answer, his frown only deepened, he took a step further and my flight or fight mode kicked in out of fear.I ran past him, downstairs and then into my room, my chest heaving as I crashed to the floor. If I hadn’t been running for my life, I would have laughed at the shocked expression on Alejandro’s face – but what the hell had I done?I ran my hand through my hair, I looked up when I remembered I was holding something, “Oh, this…” I almost chuckled to myself at how rumpled it looked now.“Wait…” I searched frantically through the papers and realised one was missing.“No no no no…” Of all the papers that could have gone missing, it was the one I’d drawn of him. My mind started to run through many possibilities.‘would he find it? And if he d
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner ENSNARED
Capello was seated on the chair beside Alejandro while I was stuck in the kitchen, cooking. It was a welcome distraction for the event week I’d experienced at Alejandro’s house. They were speaking in Italian and it was pissing me off. Maybe if I had a phone… I slammed the knife hard on the chopping board… I would have google-translated a couple of those words and I wouldn’t worry if they were planning my death.“Can you ease up on the cooking?” I tightened my hold on the knife and pointed it at him.“Fine.” I said and turned back to the meat I was chopping up, Capello looked thoroughly amused and I wanted to throw the knife at him next.In the next hour, spaghetti and meatballs was ready, it possibly couldn’t get any Italian than that. I served the food and called them to the table, like the servant I was.I stood behind them, a creepy smile on my face as I watched them eat. Alejandro lifted his spoon to his mouth and paused when he saw my face. He frowned and took another look at his
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner DEATH AND ITS WIELDER
For the next couple of days, I mourned Anselmo and avoided Alejandro like a plague. I didn’t cook and I didn’t clean anything, he could shoot me for all he wanted. He shouldn’t have killed an innocent man.I pushed back the part of my mind that threatened to question everything I knew, there was no fucking way that Anselmo was watching me for 4 years, it just wasn’t possible.I sighed as I got out of bed and prepared myself for the day. I realised that staying in my room all day and night just made me think up the worst things possible and I would welcome any distraction. The bathroom hosted me for almost an hour before I decided to get out. I picked out very short shorts and a tank top because the heat was still terrible, even my hair was up out of my face and up in a bun.I opened the door slightly, checking for any traces of Alejandro but the house was silent as night. I heaved a sigh of relief and found my way to the living room, it was empty as I suspected, there was no one in si
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner THE CURSE OF A MAN
The room was dark but it had a staircase that led downstairs, it was the weirdest thing I’d ever come across in my life.If one was going to have a dungeon, surely it’d be built from the ground floor and down.I tried as much as possible to not fall on my face but the stairs seemed endless until I could hear a few murmurs from below me.I frowned at the sound and wondered who was around. Last I checked, only Alejandro and I were around but I was hearing multiple voices.“Per favore, non lo so!” (Please, I don’t know anything!) That voice sounded very familiar, way too familiar.“Bugiardo! Lo so tutto.” ( Liar! I know everything.) It was clear who roared and I feared what I was walking into but I couldn’t stop walking. I was at the bottom staircase where backs were turned to me.I didn’t need to see the face to know whose body it belonged to, Capello and Alejandro had quite different physiques.They both stood as though they were ready for war and I got a sickening sense of deja vu, the
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner CONFLICTIONS
After I woke up from my sleep, I dragged my hands over my face feeling very sore. The room was in the state I’d left it and I groaned.I spent a good hour trying to get the room back to what it was before my outburst. It was still quite early but if I wanted to have the place ‘sparkling’ for my jailor, I couldn’t go back to sleep.Once I was done, I went into the main living area and saw Alejandro sipping what seemed to be coffee, but that wasn’t what caught my attention.It was the bags on the chair, there were several and my brows shot up to the roof of my head.‘Are you travelling?’ I wanted to ask but I was giving him the silent treatment for what he’d done so far.Instead, I completely ignored him and went into the pantry to get started on work – his work. Before I could take two steps forward, he spoke.“These are yours.” I snapped my head towards him and confirmed that he was actually talking to me.“What?” He gave me a look and I rolled my eyes at him. He didn’t repeat himself
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
I groaned as I turned, my headache banging with so much pain. I sat up and tried to move my legs so I could use the toilet but I heard a loud jangle. My legs couldn't move. I opened my eyes "What the fuck!" One of my legs was chained to the bed post. "Hey!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs despite having a headache. "Let me the fuck out of these chains. I'm not a fucking slave!" When I didn’t hear anything, I started grabbing whatever I could find and threw it against the door. How did I even end up at his house? The last thing I remembered was... Slowly, everything came rushing back, the lady who tried to hand me over to Alejandro and I ran away only to end up back in his house. I grabbed the lamp and threw it, I hadn't expected the door to swing open right at that time. Alejandro ducked just in time and the lamp went right outside, and shattered behind him. He didn't bother looking back, he narrowed his eyes at me and my hands fell to the side. Maybe if it had hit him r
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner DANGER OUTSIDE HOME
I walked into the road and I was amazed at the colours that greeted me, the city was so alive and bright. I almost bumped into someone and they apologised first. It was a culture shock, considering where I lived for all my life, I definitely would’ve been cussed out for it.“Okay, now what?” I asked myself as I looked ahead of the bustling city. I had no money on me so I couldn’t get a cab, I also couldn’t afford to look lost in this kind of place. Chances were, people knew who Capello was and if he was searching for me, they wouldn’t hesitate to tell him they saw a little crazy-eyed girl walking around.I picked up my pace, the first thing I needed to do was to get as far away from Capello as quickly as I could.After walking for what felt like hours, but probably minutes due to my hurt leg, I rounded the corner of another street. Why the hell were there so many streets?I looked around and stopped, a shiver running down my spine. It might have been years ago, but I remembered the st
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner ITALIA
I wondered how long I just sat there, staring at him. Alejandro wasn’t bad to look at, hell, he was very good looking to say the least but I was more propelled by fear to run as fast as possible when he was in the same vicinity as me.He looked like he was about to say something when the door creaked open, Capello walked in, his gaze bouncing from me to Alejandro.“You’re taking her shopping.” My jaw fell open in surprise but Capello wasn’t. In fact, he looked quite upset.“That’s not what you said over the phone.” He scowled and then turned to me, who was on the edge of my seat, expecting him to divulge the details of their earlier call. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to know if he’d really said he was going to shoot me.Alejandro simply raised a brow at him and folded his arms.“Well, I’m not taking her.”“I thought it was a fucking emergency Ale. What does she need clothes for?” I cocked my head in anger.“She, is right here and she isn’t some 12th century slave. What is your problem?
Stockholm Syndrome: His Prisoner EL DIAVOLO
Much to my dismay, I actually left the gun on the table. Whether or not he’d actually forgotten it, he would later realise it was gone at some point, and come looking for it. I didn’t want to test his self-control, especially now, when I could barely walk or run away.Yes, I was still going to run away and I would be wiser about it.My leg was quite swollen but I somehow found my way to the fridge and brought out an ice pack. I hissed as the cold material touched my leg.‘Almost run me over and then almost touch my leg like you are capable of feeling empathy.’ I muttered to myself. I was beyond pissed but more at myself for underestimating his callousness.I ended up sleeping against the fridge because moving was a fucking pain in the ass.I opened my eyes when I heard movement not too far off, I groaned sleepily and dragged my feet from under me.Immediately I moved head slightly, I saw his figure standing close to me, I stumbled backwards out of shock. He didn’t seem fazed though bu
