Waking Nightmare Chapter Two

[belle-lestrange.livejournal.com]

Titel: Waking Nightmare – Chapter Two
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Summary: Strange things are happening to Orlando. At first he thinks it is just a joke of his friends, but things start to get even scarier with time and he painfully experiences, that this weren't jokes....... Will Viggo be able to help him after his waking nightmare?
Warnings: Angst, Drama, Rape, Stalking
A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, this really keeps me going! *huggles for everyone*
Beta: The wonderful slashfairy




Chapter Two – Had a good day?
He lay there silent, in the dark. He was afraid. He didn’t dare move
The person beneath him was breathing evenly; arms held tightly around his body.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to push away, he wanted to run out of the house, to escape this waking nightmare.
But he couldn’t. There was no way out.
He bit his lower lip, trying to stop his tears. Within seconds he had lost the battle.
Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks, testament to all of the terror, the pain and the despair he felt.
He didn’t want this person touching him, hands slowly stroking over his skin. He trembled. The body beneath him moved. He closed his eyes, trying to remain calm.
“Why are you crying?” said a soft voice, as a thumb stroked over his cheek. “There is no need to cry. Everything is fine. I’ll care for you, look after you. You belong to me… You are mine, don’t cry. I’ll give you everything you need and soon you will know that we are meant to be together. Don’t cry… I love you… I need you. He didn’t love you… he didn’t care for you, he never did. You thought he would… you wished him to love you but he didn’t. Are you crying because they are not coming? They don’t care about you, that’s why. Did you really think anyone would miss you? Anyone would care? They don’t. Only me…”
Hands were stroking his skin softly as the words were whispered into the darkness.
Was it true? Nobody would come… nobody cared. How long had it been?? He didn’t know, he couldn’t remember. It seemed like ages but it could have been only a day.
A muffled sob escaped his lips as the heavy body was suddenly on top of him.
***************************************************************************
Orlando’s hands started to shake as he stared at the picture.
Someone had been in his house!
With that realization, he dropped the picture and looked around, frantically.
What if that someone was still here?
Within seconds he grabbed one of the knives from the kitchen.
Slowly he made his way into the hallway, checking for an intruder.
He was holding the knife tightly, shivering. There was no denying it, he was scared.
Was this psycho here? now? in his house?
Every shadow seemed dangerous, every corner hid eyes, staring at him and following him.
In his panic for one brief moment Orlando felt like a child . He wanted to run to his mother, and tell her everything, wanted her to make the bad things go away and make him feel safe again.
But he was alone… well maybe not. Maybe he was not alone after all.
Gripping the knife even tighter he went up the stairs. In the silence of his house every sound seemed magnified. His steps were impossibly loud and he kept looking over his shoulder every once in a while. Orlando nearly didn’t dare to open the bathroom door, fearing to see someone in there…
He took one deep breath and opened the door.
He held his breath… No one was there, the bathroom was empty. and let it go again, relieved.
With each room it was the same, relaxing a bit more and freaking out even more. He couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger. Relief that no one had been here, or terror, that there still could be someone.
The only room left was his bedroom…..
His hand was shaking as he gripped the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. He felt as if his heart had stopped beating. His throat was dry and he thought he might vomit.
The light in the room was dim. Orlando didn’t even dare breathe, listening for a sound, warning him someone was in there.
His tension grew as he scanned every bit of the room he could see when the door opened slowly. Then he froze, staring at one corner.
There was someone! There was someone behind the curtain!
What should he do? What the fuck should he do now? Call the police? Good idea but would he be able to get his cell phone before this person caught him?
Orlando held the knife a bit higher, standing in the doorway, not moving. His feet felt as heavy as lead.
After what seemed like ages, he finally stepped into the room.
“What are you doing in my house??”
No answer. His breathing became heavy, as if he wasn’t able to get enough air.
What if that person was a total psycho, wanting to kill him? He didn’t want to die.
Suddenly thoughts of all of the things he still wanted to do came to his mind… He wanted to finish this amazing movie, travel around the world, see different countries, tell Viggo how he felt ….
Now these moments of terror and panic, that could be his last, he couldn’t deny anymore. Before he would die he wanted to kiss the older man, if only once. He wanted to feel the other man’s arms embrace him, not only as a friend but as a lover. To hear that voice whispering words of love and passion, in his ear. That was what he really wanted. No matter how much he had tried to convince himself in the past that he didn’t feel for Viggo, now in these moments it didn’t matter anymore. Only the things he knew deep in his heart and he wanted to do without thinking, mattered.
While these thoughts were spinning around in his mind, he slowly stepped closer to the curtain. With a shaking hand and holding his breath he reached for the curtain.
He was ready to stab whoever there was with the knife, before he could be killed.
Orlando pulled the curtain away all of a sudden, raising the knife even higher. His eyes widened…
There was no one. Only one of his jackets on a coat rack with.
A raspy laugh escaped his lips. How stupid had he been? If the Hobbits had been watching him, they would be rolling on the floor, laughing by now.
Fear and panic had overcome him and had clouded his common sense.
Only seconds later, Orlando realized that it hadn’t been that stupid at all. The coat rack had definitely not been there yesterday… In fact it had never been there it was always in the hallway.
He looked around the room again, anxious. No, he was alone. But how the hell did the coat rack get up here?
It couldn’t be a joke by the hobbits … could it? He didn’t know anymore. On the one hand he wanted to believe so badly, that all that was just a joke, but on the other hand, he knew that something really strange was going on here.
But he couldn’t call the police or anyone else for he was sure, that they’d just laugh at him, being scared like a little girl.
So with a sigh he closed his bedroom door, looked around again before he put the knife on his night table and climbed into bed.

An hour later Orlando realized that there was no way he was going to sleep tonight. He didn’t dare turn on the television, still scared that he’d miss some sound of an intruder in his house Also he didn’t close his eyes because every time he did, he thought someone was standing beside his bed with a camera.
So he sat there, staring at the same page of a book. Reading the same sentence over and over again, without having a clue what it said.
Hours later the sun rose, bathing the room in warm light.
With the house flooded with light Orlando was no longer afraid. He felt embarrassed at how stupid he had been last night.
With a sigh he went into the bathroom and glanced at the mirror. He looked horrible. His face was paler than usual and there were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. The make-up girl was going to have a fit.
After getting rid of his clothes, he turned the water on, stepping under the shower. The warmth was good. He wanted to go back to bed now and sleep, feeling all safe in the arms of a very special person.
But that was just a daydream; reality was… well crappy.

The day’s shooting was horrible. People asked Orlando over and over if he was ok. He answered ‘Yes’ over and over, while he searched for clues as to who was responsible for what had happened. He found no clues though, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask someone. They’d think he was childish, or crazy, freaking out over a picture and a coat rack.
It had also been very hard to be near Viggo today. Orlando had to resist the urge to throw himself into the arms of the other man, finally feeling safe and sane again.
Of course he didn’t. He didn’t even look the older actor in the eyes. He didn’t dare, fearing that Viggo would see something was wrong.
So by the end of the day he was miserable and grumpy. This was probably the crappiest situation he had ever been in. He just couldn’t tell what he should think about everything.
But he couldn’t do anything other than wait and see.
Orlando parked the car in front of his house, hesitating briefly before going inside.
How gutless. He was making a fool out of himself. With that he opened the door of his car, stepping out and unlocking the door of his house.
No light was on today, nothing had changed since the morning. He closed the door behind him. Although he considered himself incredibly stupid and girlish he looked around the house, checking every room. He knew that he couldn’t relax if he didn’t.
But it seemed that someone didn’t mean to give him peace.
Orlando had nearly overlooked it. But when he had turned around to leave the bathroom his gaze fell on the mirror. Or rather the place where the mirror should have been. Every centimetre was covered with pictures.
His throat became dry as he stepped nearer, feeling faint about what he might see.
The Polaroids were of him. Orlando’s eyes wandered over them, without really seeing one clearly, feeling sicker with every minute.
When he looked over them a second time he began to see them more clearly. There was a picture of him sitting on his bed, trying to read, taken last night. It had been taken from hallway, for the door could be seen and only a small glimpse of Orlando on the bed.
Another picture showed him on set, talking to Elijah. Another one in the make up trailer, getting his wig on. Next one, he in the shower this morning, eyes closed and again photographed from the corridor.
Only a small space on the mirror was free of pictures and something was written there. Something in what seemed to be red lipstick.
“Had a nice day love?”
Orlando started to shake again, looking at the pictures with horror. This was a picture diary of his day!
Having lunch with the others… in front of the camera… having coffee on one of the breaks… talking with PJ… studying his script… getting his make up removed….
He stepped back, his eyes still glued to the mirror. All of a sudden he wasn’t able to breathe anymore, turned around, and ran out of the house.
Orlando nearly fell down the stairs, looking around panicking. He had to get out of here!.
He didn’t even stop when he was finally out, slamming the door behind him, heading for his car. It took some time to get the keys out of his pocket because his hands were shaking so badly and he was looking around constantly, expecting someone to appear in front of him.
When he finally found the keys he got into the car, closing the door behind him as fast as possible. At least it felt a bit safer to be surrounded now. He stared wide-eyed at the house for minutes. Finally he started the car, gripping the wheel tightly, and drove away.
Away, away from his house, away from whatever psycho was there.
It was hard to focus on the street. He had no clue where he was going.
When he finally looked up again and recognized his surroundings, he realized that he was in front of Viggo’s house.



tbc

Comments

[foxrafer.livejournal.com]

I think I said last time that this is so good I'm tempted to wait until all chapters are posted to read it so I can get to what I hope will be a happy ending as quickly as possible. You're really creeping me out (which means you're doing a great job)!