I began this Epilogue with the tremendous support of some incredible reviewers. You will all be credited at the bottom of the page so look for your name. As promised, I didn't delve into a full on description and this is simply a snapshot of two months into Abby's captivity. Funnily enough, this Epilogue was started three different times, but none of them seemed to work out. Which ended up being incredibly frustrating. So then I decided to switch POV's and what I got is...well, I am warning you, it's disturbing. Then again, not as disturbing as the movie. But there's well...I want to warn you, but I fear that it will ruin the ending. So, I am telling you that it is not mandatory to read this Epilogue. Especially if you are easily discomforted by what I ended up writing. It's disgusting and sickening and I really delved into a very creepy activity. Please, keep an open mind and enjoy, despite the grimness of the situation.
Epilogue - How Deep is Your Love?
Only when the midnight hour passed did Heiter slowly edge open the door. He didn't have to be concerned with a squeak or a groan from the ancient wooden structure. Abby was out deep, something he made sure of just like he had other nights.
Entering the room, he wondered whether she was aware he'd added extra sedatives into the food he'd been cooking. Since it had been only a week long occurrence, he guessed it'd be a few more days before she caught on.
Perhaps this is one of those times her intelligence works against me.
The window projected the glare of the moon through the turbulent, gray clouds blocking its path. The snow helped reflect the illumination as any animals outside lay silent in the dead of night.
His eyes slowly traveled from one end of the room to another, starting with the window.
At first, he had been furious with the house first built nearly a decade ago. The windows were way too damn high, this room in particular. The builders attempted to claim it'd bring in sunlight faster and was the ideal room for someone who appreciated nature's beauty. Initially, it had been for-.
He stopped himself, shaking the whore's name from his mind.
Now, however, the room had worked out to his complete satisfaction.
Could it have been possible it was always meant to be this way? Used for his future captive?
An ironic smile tugged at his lips as he continued his scanning.
He'd been unsure at first whether to provide the room with a desk or table. Abby had a frustrating ability to be creative and surely one of those objects would in someway be used against him.
So, he refrained. At least until she began accepting her place.
The room was sparse without furniture, but at least it had a window. He prized himself on accomplishing that, remembering it was one of the primary things Abby had complained about at his villa.
It took three more silent minutes before his eyes fully adjusted to the dimness suffocating the room.
By now, she will hardly recognize the light.
Still, he hesitated before flicking on the switch. If she had even the slightest idea he'd been drugging, then entering her room at night, she'd react unfavorably. And considering what her reaction to him "kidnapping" her was so far, it might literally drive him insane.
Moderation. I cannot do this every single night.
But this didn't settle well in his head.
Ever since her "captivity" over two months ago, she had remained irrationally cold toward him. He was expecting anger. He was expecting rage. He was expecting a constant battle over every single thing he commanded of her.
Instead, she ignored him.
That, he quickly determined, was far worse than any form of stubbornness she could have emitted. And he was quite sure she was aware of that.
But not even the hostility could mar the three attempts she'd made at escape.
Which brought him to one of his favorite features to observe. Wrapped tightly around the base of her ankle was a monitor.
He'd often heard of its use in house arrest cases, and the piece of technology worked perfectly to keep Abby from fleeing. Not only did it blast a sharp, high pitched wail each time she left the house, it also sent electric current flowing through her leg, making it near impossible for her to properly walk, much less run.
Of course this hadn't prevented her from crawling.
Eventually, the electricity got to be too much and the first two times, she simply passed out on the lawn. Nothing he was too concerned about. He hadn't been lying when he mentioned they'd be settling down somewhere vacant. The nearest neighbor was over a three hour drive away. And his home by the sea did not straddle a main road. In fact, there were such a grand tangle of roads on their way that Heiter had nearly forgotten altogether how to get to their destination.
The third time she attempted an escape, he realized just how desperate she was. And crafty.
She'd taken a shower before her last attempt, and he didn't think much of it even as he'd heard the wail break out, indicating her venture outside. However, when he observed the smoke spewing from her bent form on the lawn minutes later, he was sure he'd seen white.
On purpose, Abby had remained wet in hopes of the current electrocuting her to death.
After she'd regained consciousness, he threatened to rinse her with a towel himself until she was dry from head to toe, every single day. The horror on her face had been gratifying and disappointing at the same time.
But it taught her a lesson.
His eyes darkened in the bright room, staring at the monitor encompassing her pale, smooth leg. For such a naturally brunette individual, the hairs on her limbs were a near bleached blonde. This made it incredibly convenient to deny her a razor.
Slowly, his brown eyes traveled from leg to hip.
Abby normally slept on her side with the sheets bunched up in random areas of her body. Heiter had found this oddly amusing upon first glimpse. It seemed like a different portion of her body was cold each night and she couldn't quite figure out which part to cover.
A few minutes passed by, but the surgeon was only content with staring.
Despite his invasion of privacy, Abby was different than other people he'd met. He naturally cared about her, and even a task as simple as observation (or maybe voyeurism was more appropriate), seemed like a breach in trust.
But her constant evasive behavior had finally worn him down.
It wasn't like he expected they'd regress back to the relationship they had before.
Still, two months of silence at the dinner table, the den, her bedroom, and anywhere else he attempted to converse with her, snapped the last of his patience.
In his mind, he classified it as such - if she wouldn't give him her attention whilst conscious, he'd attain it while she was asleep. And for the past week, his routine had been working quite nicely.
I do not have to see the hate in her eyes. Or the disgust.
With this thought in mind, Heiter gravitated toward the sleeping woman and gently lowered himself on the edge of the bed.
Normally, he'd begin speaking to her in German at this point as he had done in the week past. Her petrified state of sleep allowed him to mention things he didn't think he had ever made public before.
This time, however, one of his hands shot out. It hesitated for a moment, unsure of the response it'd get were she awake.
That's the point. She is asleep and I may do to her what I wish.
When his cool palm finally met her forehead, he released a sigh. One that spilled out from a place deeper than just relief.
Beautiful. Simply beautiful.
His fingers extended and soon, he found his hand wandering down to cup her chin. With fingers splayed possessively over her jaw, Heiter took a rare opportunity to simply enjoy something he hadn't been able to do for awhile now.
In fact, the last time he had been able to place a hand on her was during her drug transition phase in which watching her dream became absolutely engrossing. She'd struggle with a blanket, kicked at her sheets, even cursed underneath her breath, all while slumbering in a nightmare. Those rare moments were when he indulged himself with a pat or a prod on to her skin.
Of course then, the touches meant little compared to what they meant now.
A light sigh passed from her, into the atmosphere, but Heiter fought back his anxiety. Instead, the noise soothed his ears and allowed him the confidence to lower himself gently beside her.
In minutes, he too was laying on his side, facing her. One hand still rested on a pale cheek, while the other strived to place itself in the next available spot.
"So very beautiful, meine liebe," he whispered, eyes taking in each angle of Abby's skin.
When his confidence - mistaken for, quite honestly, his lust - began to grow, cupping her cheek simply was not enough.
He brought his hand to the front of her nose, making sure her breaths were still even.
She will be gone until morning.
He tried to quench the thrill that shot up his spine and spread through his body like a wildfire, but the feeling was far too strong.
Quietly, he lifted a hand and slid it over her hip until his fingers pressed into the flesh of her back. His breaths were quick, and he was thankful he'd kept his attire simple. White shirt, black pants.
He waited another minute, making sure his hands would properly work for the next set of instructions.
Inch by inch, he began a motion of sliding their bodies together. His body moved in calculative squirms, closer and closer. Hers were simply dictated by his arm. With a delicacy he only reserved for her, Heiter pulled at Abby's dormant body until it rested only a centimeter away from his own.
When they were finally close enough to his liking, the surgeon wordlessly marveled at his body's reaction to the blonde woman. A titanic clench in his stomach, excited tingles rushing through him, even his damned pants were starting to become uncomfortable.
These reactions were hardly typical reactions he'd felt in his life, even when he was still with the whore.
And that offered him a forbidden pleasure he had not yet indulged in.
The inaudible silence of the room spurred the man to make a decision.
Abby's scent, completely immersed within his own hygiene products since he'd refused to give her anything other than his own, crawled into his nostrils and assaulted his senses. It knew what he wanted, what he hadn't made clear to Abby while she was awake. And it begged him to take it.
The opportunity is here. She would never know.
When he exhaled, tiny blonde hairs scattered from the crown of her head. Carefully, Heiter extended his head until his lips pressed into her forehead. Simultaneously, he inhaled and the powerful urge shot up tenfold.
Where once his hand rested on her back, it now began a crawling descent down to the waste band of her own pajama bottoms.
What a shame I will be doing this as she sleeps.
But Heiter was a reasonable man. And if there was anything he was sure of, it was that Abby would understand his actions. The woman was incapable of not feeling sympathy for him, just as he was incapable of harming her for fear of losing the presence he so much desired.
"One day, meine liebe, you will see our potential."
Those were the last words he promised before beginning a relentless chant of her name while his fingers set out to explore every evasive inch of the woman he wanted with an unwavering lust.
From the second Abby's eyes shot open on a chill, February morning, she recognized something to be...off.
For one, she felt warm. Not because of the blankets, but internally as well. As if she'd swallowed a flame and the burning ball had kept her ignited all night.
Secondly, there was the lack of tension in her shoulders. Every single night, Abby fell back into the bed as if each muscle was stringed as tightly as a bow.
Now, however, the muscles seemed to have all but disintegrated whatever anxiety kept them so straight.
The last peculiar incident wasn't something she noticed until she got to her feet.
Did I pee in my pajamas or something?
She entered the bathroom shortly after, intent on changing into new clothes after a tumble underneath the shower head. When she lowered her panties off her legs and took the time to observe the fabric in the middle, a white substance greeted her horrified gaze.
Oh my God? Did he-?
A sensible side of her tried to reason otherwise.
I've been out like a rock for the past week. How is that possible when most nights I went sleepless? And waking up feeling so relaxed-.
One trembling hand shot to her mouth as a choked sob spilled out.
She nearly had a heart attack when the entire house exploded with sound.
Most likely, it was the CD system in the den Heiter used to play his Viennese classical music. Nevertheless, it didn't cease to calm her sudden panic.
Her eyes dropped back down to her panties as 'How Deep is Your Love' drifted underneath each door, barging into every room of the house. By now, every fiber in her body hated the song. He played it constantly, as if it would change her mind about what he was doing to her.
What he's done.
Growing wider, Abby's eyes fluttered shut as she stumbled back into the shower, preoccupied with the white stain.
Is it his...or mine?
Yep, I'm leaving it right there. THE END! And yes, if you need some clarity, Heiter did touch her while she was sleeping. Intimately. Abby's question in the end is your own interpretation. Would he be just content with a touch, or would he want more? Did he rape her or just molest? Either option is really a fucking creepy thought. And by the end, Heiter really believes her sympathy is expansive enough to over look the fact that he did touch her while she slept. Something he did because he was frustrated at the isolation she held toward him as opposed to the confrontation and banter which made him like her in the first place.
So I hope that was kind of messed up for some of you and didn't disappoint too much. Meine liebe is a German phrase you'll just have to look up if you don't know it. I feel like the prospect of Heiter calling her that is something you'll squeal about on your own time with Google Translate.
I do have something for you all as well. It's like a credit list. So find your name and you will begin to understand how important your reviews have been to me.
Angel1932 - First and foremost, you are the reason this story was written. I was completely inspired by your fantastic portrayal of life post-centipede for Lindsey in Infection. It was a petastool and if I hadn't read it, I would never have began this. You were the first review, the first story alert, the first everything! Thank you so so so so so so so much. Not only that, but your reviews were heart warming to read. You explained in great deal, the things you loved and I tried writing the next chapter based off that review. You never gave up on me and got through with me from Ch 1 to the Epilogue. Thank you, again and I only would hope to have a reviewer again as thoughtful and incredible as you. I really can't wait where you continue to go with Infection and if you ever get stuck, just steer back to the brilliance in which you first began it. Much Love, - SM.
the-dark-poetess-911 - I can't even begin to describe how ultimately important your reviews were. Second person to add this on story alert, you and Angel1932 were my only reviewers for awhile. You did this thing that I've never had any reviewers do before. You went into depth and you made me feel like I was the best damned writer on the face of this planet. Your constant support for whatever direction I took the story made me believe I could write anything. Honestly, your reviews made my entire fucking day. Beautiful, uplifting, and if I close my eyes and think for a second, might even be true - for a second, of course. Don't ever stop reading because some other author will gain just as much joy and inspiration as I have with the feedback you give. Thank you so very, very much. I literally came to reread your reviews for a second spark of inspiration and your words were some of the kindest I've ever gotten. In fact, you are undoubtedly one of my favorite reviewers of all time and are worth a definite mentioning in my future Oscar speech. Much Love, - SM.
StrangeKindOfMirror - You sort of crept in with your reviews later on, but you stuck with contributing your thoughts and I gained incredible confidence with whatever I was writing as a result. You voiced your support effortlessly and even though I felt like I had committed a million mistakes, you only saw the good and pointed it out. Your reviews were an absolute pleasure to read and I'm so glad you enjoyed the ride. Author's live for reviewers like you and I can't imagine where this story would be if you hadn't offered up insight about the story. You have incredibly intelligent things to say and I feel priveleged to have some one so well spoken and intellectual review my story. Thank you so very, very much and I hope the ending satisfied some part of you. Much Love, - SM.
Explodingsushi15 - To me, you seem like a very hyper individual. Your reviews always seemed like they couldn't wait to be written and for that, I am thankful. They were a pleasure to read because you accepted the plot and appreciated things in it that I didn't even think twice about. Your constant excitement for the next chapter made me want to not only upload a chapter quicker, but write it in a manner that you'd greatly enjoy. I also loved how into the story you got and hearing my plot being talked about in a review is something so mindblowing and heart warming that I can only offer up a bazillion thank yous. Thank you so, so, so very much. And the fact that you feel like I've taught you writing ideas and styles (I'm only a Junior in High School), is something I can't properly wrap my head around. Thank you for inspiring me, thus being the inspiration for yourself all along. Much Love, - SM.
YinYangSisters - Okay, you've actually reviewed on multiple stories of mine - DW stories are the ones that come to mind. I never got to thank you for those reviews properly because of the kind words you said. You claimed I was one of best authors you've ever read from and my brain literally died. Hearing that, especially when I detested my writing so much at one point, brought up my confidence up to a level I never had it at before. THANK YOU SO MUCH! The fact that you continue to follow my stories which transcend genres and ideas, is really quite fantastic. I feel like I have a real fan each time you review. They help in a manner you wouldn't believe and to have a fan who enjoys the good and the bad I write, makes me want to kidnap you just so I can plop you beside me and listen to your thoughts. Can't ever thank you enough for everything you've done to contribute inspiration and determination. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope to continue to see your reviews on other stories, especially if I ever get the motivation to begin another Donna/Master fic. Much Love, - SM.
I didn't forget those others who reviewed one or two times, and I want to thank those. But above...you guys are just unbelievable and I want you to know that. This story is here because of all of you. Words can't describe my gratefulness. Just...thank you. That's all I can say.