Stefano stepped cautiously into the stinking cell. He had no desire to deal with this, but was unwilling to trust it to anyone else. The prisoner still lay trussed on the floor, the only sign of life the cold glint of his unblinking stare. With a flip of a switch, bright light flooded the room and the bound man was forced to flinch, ducking his head and hiding from the light. Dimera grimaced, hating the picture the unforgiving light painted. Hating the fact that he was responsible for it. If this kept up, John would be ruined. That, he would not accept.

Slowly, he approached the body. Two days since the last of the drugs had been administered. Two days since Stefano had allowed anyone to lay a hand on the man other than to force water down his throat. Two days for the body to recover, the mind to mend. Two days hadn’t been long enough.

Crouching down, Stefano brushed the lank hair back from the man’s face. The blue eyes blazed, no sign of recognition in their seething depths. That burning rage had always been the man’s greatest weapon, driving him beyond fear, beyond pain. Now that same rage would get him killed if Stefano failed to find a way to restrain it to the point where coherent thought was possible. The drugs had done their work too well, freeing demons that must again be chained.

Dimera ignored the battered body, focusing on the man’s mind. He would not lose John to the madness, not now that he held the key to the man’s reality. “I want you to concentrate, Roman. I want you to listen very carefully. Someone is here to see you. Marlena is here, and she needs you very badly. Do you want to see her, Roman? Do you want her badly enough to follow my orders?”

As he had half expected, the only response was a low growl that seemed to originate from deep inside the prisoner’s throat. Every muscle in Roman’s body seemed to contract, cut in sharp relief beneath filth incrusted skin. Stefano could actually see the ropes binding the man’s arms tear into already abraded flesh. “Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” he muttered.

Sighing out loud, Stefano turned to a monitor hung in one corner and using a remote, activated the picture. There, laying in the center of the bed in her well-appointed room, was Marlena Evans Brady.

Stefano chose his next words with care, knowing that threats to her life would be counterproductive. If he pushed too hard, the man on the ground would tear himself apart in an attempt to go to her. John would destroy anything and anyone who posed a threat to her- or he would destroy himself in the attempt. Subtlety would be required to draw the animal on the floor back to some semblance of humanity. Stefano Dimera was the king of subtlety.

“Roman, do you want me to bring her down here? Maybe show her the bodies of the men you killed? Is that what you really want? If I wanted you dead, you would be. All I’m asking is that you act like a human being. Act like her husband. Would you really want her to see you like this?”


Roman lay silent, but his eyes were locked on the screen. Dimera could see the awareness, could sense the need. He smiled, despite the circumstances, pleased with his ability to still read the man he had trained. “I’m going to cut you loose, Roman. All I want you to do is simply lay there. That’s all I’m asking for Roman. Because we both know that if you want to, you can kill me. And we both know that the second you do, she dies too. Do you understand me, Roman? I just want you to lay still.”

There was still no response, but Dimera hadn’t really expected one. One quick slice of a knife and the taut stretched rope snapped apart, springing away from the torn flesh. A groan escaped the throat of the prisoner as limbs that had been distended for days were freed, sending the beginnings of pain through numbed nerves. Stefano put his hand on a shoulder, steadying the man who lay at his feet, covering the image of a phoenix emerging triumphantly from the flames. “Easy boy, we’ve still got the cuffs to get off of you.”

As the driving rage receded, the man on the floor contracted in on himself, becoming smaller and much, much more vulnerable. Dimera withdrew a key from his pocket and carefully released the mangled wrists from the steel shackles, then stooped to do the same with the man’s ankles. The prisoner lay on the dirt floor, completely unmoving, huddling in on himself as if to gather what strength he had left. Through it all, his eyes never left the face of the woman.

“We’ll get you cleaned up, you’ll be as good as new,” Stefano muttered, almost disappointed by the lack of resistance. He didn’t want Roman beaten, he wanted John back. Marlena wouldn’t achieve that for him, but there was someone else who might. With a malicious grin, Dimera realized what was needed. An enemy. An enemy who represented a threat to all the prisoner held dear. An enemy who wasn’t Stefano Dimera. The irony of it appealed to him, and he believed he had found a way to make John accept the truth.

Images in red in black flickered before her closed eyes and she wondered why she had a hangover when she hadn’t been drinking. Gingerly Marlena laid her hand across her face to blot out the bright light and cracked her eyes cautiously open. The slowly turning ceiling fan above gave her no hint of where she was. One minute she had been riding in a squad car with some polite young officer and the next minute she was here. Ignoring the headache that pounded behind her eyes, she sat up and looked around.

She was perched in the center of a queen size bed, feeling distinctly out of place. The bedroom was huge, the large bed barely making a dint in the floor space. Eleven foot ceilings served only to add to the sense of space. Along one long wall three arched windows were evenly spaced, allowing brilliant white light to flood the room. No glass covered the windows, the only bar to the elements simple wooden shutters that had been left wide open. An open window was almost as good as an open door. On still shaky legs, she walked carefully toward her promised freedom.

Marlena blinked her eyes against the glare, peering out the window and debating her escape. Open windows were not a traditional sign of captivity- she had enough experience with such things to know. She had only to swing her legs over the wide window sill and she could be gone. Gone from where was the first question in her mind. Gone to where was the second.

She stared out the window, her eyes roving across dense green jungle. Far beyond the trees, the glint of blue water beckoned. She could smell the sea, it was carried to her on the thick humid air. Eden after the fall, the lush landscape screamed to her of life and rot and wildness. “We’re not in Kansas anymore,” she whispered to herself.

With an eery sense of inner calm, she sat down on the window sill and waited for him to come. She didn’t have to wait long.

“You look beautiful, my dear. I’m so pleased you’ve decided to accept my hospitality.”

Sitting within the frame of the arched window, she appeared not to hear him, her attention focused on something too far beyond the horizon to see. He knew that she had heard him. He was willing to wait as long as she was.

“Where is he? Is he alive?” she finally asked, refusing to turn and face him.

“Is who alive?” Stefano replied, pacing slowly across the tiled floor. He stopped only once he was close enough to touch her.

Slowly, grudgingly, she turned to face him. God, he had forgotten how beautiful her eyes were- green and gold, like the jungle at twilight. He should have done this long ago. No matter the costs, he should have done this long ago.

“My husband,” she stated flatly, aware that Stefano was watching her. Aware that he was enjoying her.

“Ah, yes- your husband. Tall fellow? Dark hair? Bad temper? Yes, he has requested that I keep you entertained while he is… otherwise engaged.” Dimera rocked back on his heels and clasped his hands casually before him. He felt so alive when he was near her, so good. It was a feeling he decided to keep. It was time John learned- payback’s a bitch.

Marlena wanted nothing more than to slap that damn smirk off of his face. She knew that he expected her to try. She would hate to disappoint him. Sliding down from the window she raised her hand- and then slammed her knee into his testicles.

Stefano dropped soundlessly to the floor, fighting for air. She was through the door before he could draw his first gasp. A dark flash in the corner of her eye and she was past the guard. The man hesitated long enough to look in the bedroom and she was gone, flying down a long corridor and realizing how impossible large the estate really was. The hallway emptied onto a broad balcony overlooking the foyer to the Mediterranean style house. She fought back the rising panic that told her to keep running and tried to imagine where he might be. Footsteps sounded out behind her, leaving her no time for subtlety. “Roman?!” she screamed, her cry echoing until it seemed he must have heard. “Roman, I’m here!”

More guards appeared at the bottom of the staircase, pushing aside curious servants. The boots behind her slowed in their approach. She was trapped. She had known she would be. At least now, Dimera would know that she would not suffer it gladly.

“Your manners appear to have deteriorated over the years.”

She could hear the pain in his voice, the effort it took for him to speak. It was a small triumph but a triumph all the same. “I didn’t shoot you this time- I’d say that’s status quo.”

“I have so missed these little encounters. It’s the unexpected that makes you such a delight.”

She fought back tears, her frustration threatening to overwhelm her. Spinning to face him, she kept her head held high and her voice firm. “If you don’t let me see him, I will make your life a living hell. I swear I will.”





Dimera sighed, shaking his head. “It is such a shame to see you waste yourself on him. He’s not the man you think he is. He never really has been. You deserve someone who is worthy of you.”

“Is that why you brought me here? So that you could be the man I deserved?” Her lips twisted in a grimace and she eyed him like one would a bug.

“No, actually it’s not. I brought you here for him. I want him alive. I thought you might be willing to help me keep him that way. Of course, if you’re not interested...” He shrugged and gave her a small smile.

“Let me see him. Stefano, please?” she said softly, willing to sacrifice her pride if that was what was required.

“In due time, my dear. In due time. For now, I believe dinner is about to be served. You will join me, of course.” Dimera stepped forward and with a half-bow offered her his arm.

Marlena glanced away, unwilling to see the pleasure on his face. “You won’t hurt him?”

“I never do anything without cause, Marlena. You know that. I suggest that you try not to give me cause.”

With only a moment’s hesitation, she took his arm and allowed him to escort her down the stair case. 
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