She was his ex bride-to-be. His little stubborn countess (almost). Olaf only wished Violet knew the depth of his obsession with her, just a little less than his want her well guarded bank vault. Her other, well guarded vault, however, would not remain untouched if he could help it.
He opened the door into his current room. He had barely been here two days and already empty wine bottles littered the room. Clothes were strewn everywhere and he sniffed his own entrancing stench-the stench that followed a body avoiding showers like the plague. He supposed that assaulting her nostrils was not the best way to woo the orphan, but what did he care?
He could see her now, on her hands and knees, like his very own slave....yes...there to follow any command... Olaf sat on his bed in the corner, propping his back against the wall. He unbuttoned his pants, reaching down into his grimy boxers. "please Olaf, let me help," his imaginary vixen-Violet crooned as his pants bunched around his tattooed ankles. He could see her head, bobbing up and down around his own sensitive head, little moans escaping her mouth as she gazed lustily into his own shiny eyes. His hand stroked faster and faster, breath quickening, brow furrowed. He could see one of her hands wrapped around him, the other traveling under her frock "Please, please-" his toes curled and his body tensed. he came hard, shooting onto the carpet, leaving a sizable puddle he knew would have to be cleaned up later. He waited for his breathing to slow down and and tucked his member back into his pants. He grabbed a half-full wine bottle from the bedstead and took a swig. That should do for now. He didn't want to spoil his appetite.
Through the window, the sun sank. Red glazed the horizon.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, Violet Baudelaire had her hair pulled out of her eyes thanks to her red ribbon, which was helping her invent a way out of the count's clutches. She knew there must be something...something... she could still feel Stephoano's hot, decrepit breath against the back of her neck. Get a grip, she thought, wishing that she could clear her mind from the thought of his threatening figure.
"Violet?" Klaus' voice broke the silence like shattering glass. Violet's mind went blank as she tuned around, expecting a tall villain in the doorway rather than a much shorter, but much nicer boy. "Are you all right?" he asked. He walked into her room and sat on the bed next to her. She paused for a long moment , watching the sun recede, taking the bright day and the life it fed with it.
She made a indeterminable noise, which Klaus took as a no. "There has to be a way out of this," he said urgently. "Who knows what Stephano could do to you? I can't let you just go in there into his clutches Violet, we just got out!" Tear welled in Klaus' eyes as they both relived their horrid stay at Count Olaf's house.
"Yes, Klaus, who knows what I could do to your sister." drawled an all-too-familiar voice from the door. Olaf pushed it open, revealing his most unwanted presence to the siblings. "And who knows what could happen if I am forced to wait. Any. Longer. Perhaps I need a stick to train this stubborn mule." He threatened looking dangerously into Violet's dark eyes. "Or perhaps a hard, tasty carrot wold be more to your liking?" he remarked crudely, winking and letting his hand droop suggestively, pulling at the waistband of of his pants. He laughed cruelly at his own genius. "YOU-" Klaus shot up, ready to do to he didn't know what. All he knew was that Olaf needed to be shut up, now. "Klaus!" Violet cried. "Don't listen, he's just trying to-"
"Trying to what?" Olaf said innocently, recovering quickly from his bout of laughter . "Get my promised help to come to my aid? All I know is that I asked for one handmaid," he warned, pulling his knife out of his pocket. "Just one." The count took a moment to smirk gleefully at the orphans and turned, returning to his room.
Less than an hour later, Violet found herself at the bottom of the dark stairway. She had showered and put her siblings to bed, promising to Klaus before she left that she would be safe.
During the day, this was a mere stairwell. Now, it was a test of willpower. Violet stood, her stomach churning strangely, her head dizzy with warmth, and her hand quivering on the banister. She knew that she couldn't procrastinate forever. She knew that there was a wicked man waiting not-so-patiently for her arrival.
The sky was black. It was a new moon, yet no stars shone that night.
A/N This took longer than expected, but it's harder then it seems, i swear! I just finished The End for the umpteenth time. I never realized how many beautiful allusions Handler hid for his readers. It's going on 5 in the morning (I've been a slave to my keyboard since 11) and once this episode of The Nanny is over, I can finally go to bed! (Valentine Schmalentines, I loove Fran Drescher!)
Thank you for all the reviews, and don't forget that tasteful criticism is my best friend!