I do not own Gargoyles, or any of the characters which appeared in the cartoon. All original characters seen here were created by me, but everyone else is not. This writing is for pleasure, not for profit...Please don't sue.
The Nightmares Saga Chapter 3: "Time Goes By"
Sao Miguel, The Azores, Portugal...
Another day was dawning, and Elisa could feel the warm sunlight entering her room and touching her eyelids like an unwelcome guest. She forced her eyes open to greet the beginning of another day in the Azores—another day of torture.
Her days usually began in this manner. Everyday for a month, the duration thus far of her confinement on this island, she would awaken from a nightmare—the same one that haunted her before she was kidnapped—with the light from the window hitting her face. A few times, she was wakened by Dracon himself kissing her delicately on the forehead. She objected the first and every subsequent time he did it, yelling all sorts of profanities in his direction, but he would laugh out loud and walk out of the room, locking her in from the outside.
She would usually be put to sleep by a pleasant-smelling gas that entered her room through a vent located directly above her bed. The first time the gas entered, Elisa thought that she was going to die, because she could barely breathe as the gas filled her lungs. She had asked Dracon why he would put her to sleep in this manner, and not just wait until she would fall asleep on her own, and he had answered, with that typical Dracon smirk, "I'm a sick, evil fuck. That's why, Sugar." She knew that she was completely knocked unconscious every time the gas entered her room because on the third night he had knocked her out with the gas she noticed that she had a tiny pinprick on her lower torso that was sore. If it hadn't been sore, she wouldn't have even known it was there. When she confronted Tony about the mysterious pinprick—which she suspected was the place a syringe would have entered her—he told her that it was all in her head. The pain dissipated later that week.
At around 9am, 12:30 pm, and 8 pm, Elisa would be escorted by gunpoint to the dining room where Tony Dracon would already be seated, waiting for her. It was a smaller sort of room, with just enough space to comfortably house a table and four chairs. There was also another large window looking onto the beautiful roving countryside of Sao Miguel. The room was painted her favourite shade of yellow, though nothing would cheer her up, except perhaps a knife sharp enough to jab into Tony Dracon's back, but even those were hard to come by.
Every meal consisted usually of a soup (which was never hot enough to scald), followed by a fish or pasta dish which didn't require the use of a knife, and her forks and spoons were always plastic. Even the plates and cups were paper. Dracon never took chances with her while they ate. He knew her spirits were still in need of being broken, and that she would attempt anything to escape.
Her first few meals with Dracon were at gunpoint, since she tried to refuse to eat the first week. Dracon wouldn't have it, however. After that he always made sure that she ate, and the hired goons holding the guns would not be needed during the meal. Elisa found that a bit odd that Tony would care so much about her eating, but she figured the healthier she was, the longer he could torture her.
Dracon would recount any sort of news he heard from Manhattan at breakfast, since he did go there at least two times that Elisa counted. A few weeks after her kidnapping, he had told her about how the police were beginning to lose hope in finding her safe, and the papers were already presuming that she was dead. Not wanting to break down in front of Dracon, she waited until she was finished eating, was escorted back to her room, and then cried herself into a dreamless sleep. She was beginning to get emotional over the littlest things that would have once rolled right off her back. Elisa figured it must just be the effects of being held captive and worrying about her family…and the clan.
The days would either be spent watching Portuguese television, which was impossible for her to interpret, (since she only had the basic knowledge of the Spanish language, and, as she learned very quickly, the two languages were quite different) or watching the other satellite channels. She was particularly interested in the BBC, since it gave her valuable information about the entire world. She hoped she would see something with regards to her disappearance that might give her some hope, but day after day, as she watched her large television in her beautiful room, she saw nothing that would keep her hope alive.
Elisa hadn't taken this confinement laying down, so to speak, at first. She tried to escape the next day after her forced marriage to Dracon through the window in her room by smashing a small chair into it. The chair broke into many pieces the second it hit the pane of glass, sounding an alarm. The window, however, remained completely intact, retaining only a few scratches as proof of the chair's contact. Some of the pieces of the broken chair managed to hit her, and one caused an extensive slash along her forearm. Bleeding from the wound, she nearly collapsed in the arms of one of the goons that came rushing to the sound of the alarm. Tony wasn't too sympathetic to Elisa's wound, but grudgingly ordered her to be escorted to another room to have it taken care of.
She did manage to escape once, a few days after her experiment with the window. She had tricked the guard near her door to open it, because she told him that the toilet in her private bathroom was flooding. He opened the door to see if he could fix it, and she tripped him upon his entry into the room. As she began to run into the unfamiliar hallway, her spirits began to soar; she was going to be free, was going to hitch a ride to the American embassy, call her family in Manhattan, and would see Goliath again in no time. Her hopes were quickly dashed as four large goons ambushed her and knocked her unconscious. When she awoke, she was laying once again in the king sized bed, with her hands tied to the headboard, and Dracon scowling over her. "Not a smart move, wifey." He had said with his face only inches away from hers. The contempt dripped from his voice, and the smell of red wine hung on his breath. "I told you that would happen. You're lucky I showed up when I did, or Bruno over there," he pointed behind him to one of the brutes that ambushed her, "he would have knocked a few of your pretty teeth out or broken your arm. That was a warning, sugar. If you try to escape again, you might not be so lucky." With that, he had walked away, followed by the goons.
Elisa didn't know the extent of the injuries until she leaned slightly to the side, to face the window. The reflection from the window made her yelp in shock. Both her eyes were blackened; there was a thick trail of blood from a cut on her right cheek. And there was a sudden sharp pain in her ribs as she went to look at herself in the window's reflection. By her years of police experience, she knew that sharp pain was indicative of at least one bruised rib. She instantly lay back down, closing her eyes tightly, trying to imagine what, if anything, she could do to prevent this from happening again. Nothing came to mind. Well, one thing, but it went against everything she believed in: to stay a prisoner and not try again to regain the freedom that was so quickly stolen from her. No, she thought. I can't do that. That would mean that Dracon wins. This can't happen. I'll just bide my time and wait until he slips. He'll have to sooner or later. In the meantime, I will just have to play nice…
Meanwhile in Manhattan…
Goliath brushed the stone skin from his mighty shoulders and stepped down from his place among the other gargoyles atop the castle parapets. The others had also just stepped down and joined him, with looks of defeat on each of their faces. Elisa had been missing for a month to the day, they all knew it and were dreading to face Goliath about any matter today.
Lexington and Hudson walked slowly from their respective parapets to the television room in the castle, followed by Bronx, who wasn't looking as carefree as he once did. Broadway and Angela waved a quick good bye and glided to the gardens on another level of the castle. Brooklyn watched them soar into the night together with a solemn look on his face.
Elisa was missed by all the members of the clan, not just Goliath. She was their confidante, their best friend in this world, and the one who had their backs when they were on patrol. Being separated from Elisa, even for a month, was tough. They all had hope that she would be found, but without any clues, witnesses, and even the police now giving up hope to find her safe, the clan's hopes, too, were fading fast.
Goliath watched the night sky as he always did, feeling that Elisa was alive somewhere, but torn inside, knowing that there was nothing he or the others could do without clues. As he searched his memory of the night she disappeared, he recalled everything with clear vision, and shook his head. No, there was nothing more he could think of. He had gone through the entire scene with Matt that very night, and Matt had called in her disappearance immediately afterward. They had not missed anything. Just then, Goliath heard light footsteps approaching from behind him.
"Hey, Goliath." It was Matt. "How've you been"
Goliath once again shook his head and turned to face Matt.
"I have been trying to piece together the events of the night Elisa disappeared, but it seems that there is nothing we are missing. Surely the police have some leads?" Goliath asked with an air of faint hope resonating in his baritone voice.
Matt sadly glanced at the stars and answered.
"None. Whoever or whatever broke her window was careful not to cut themselves, or leave a single fingerprint or bloodstain. Forensics checked out her apartment from top to bottom, and the only sign of any sort of struggle is that broken window. They checked every piece of broken glass found at the scene, and even picked through the carpet. Nothin'." Matt paused, looking up at Goliath. "But I think I asked you how you've been." Goliath realised that he had completely avoided the question, and almost embarrassedly answered him after a few seconds.
"I have not been myself lately. I did not realise how we would miss her so if she were to be taken from us—if she were taken away from me. The whole clan feels her loss, but none more than I." He bowed his noble head with grief.
"I know what you mean. It's like my left arm is missing or something. Things just don't feel right without her there to yell at me or scare me with her erratic driving. Ha, I never thought how much I could miss her, either. I guess that's just how things work, right? You never know what you had until it's gone. We're finding out now. Hopefully, though, we'll have the chance to tell her personally how much we've missed her." Matt said. The confidence in his voice was completely artificial, but it was enough to make Goliath nod.
"Yes," Goliath said. "I know she is alive. I cannot fully explain it, but I feel her somehow. That is all I know. We must not give up hope that we will find her. We—I cannot lose her. We have just found each other." Matt placed a hand on Goliath's strong shoulder and said, "We have to find her. We will find her"
Back in Sao Miguel, late evening…
Elisa's room, which had been empty of anything remotely entertaining for only a few days, was now furnished with two large bookshelves filled with books, as well as DVDs that she could watch on her flat-screen television—Anything to keep her diverted, and her thoughts far away from her situation, though nothing truly helped. Reading books only made her imagination work overtime and her thoughts wandered to Goliath numerous times. Tonight, in particular, Elisa thought of nothing else than to be in Goliath's arms once more. To feel the simple joy that she felt when he caressed her hand or kissed her gently on her forehead was something she longed to feel once more. On the television, a Portuguese soap opera was not helping her cravings to be with Goliath, either. Though she didn't understand a word the actors were saying, the intonation in their voices and their movements were enough to help her comprehension. Elisa decidedly turned the television off and lay back on the bed, and closed her eyes tightly, envisioning Goliath's warm look. She smiled simply at the thought of Goliath. Suddenly there was a rustling noise just outside her door. Elisa immediately knew who was outside her door, planning to disrupt her pleasant thoughts of Goliath: Dracon.
She was not disappointed; Tony Dracon's spiteful voice could be heard as he spit out orders to his hired goons before entering her room. Dracon entered Elisa's room and quickly closed the door behind him. Walking towards the bed where Elisa lay, rapt in her thoughts, Dracon began almost giggling.
"What the hell is so funny, Dracon?" Elisa contemptuously asked. He looked down to her and then kneeled to her level on the floor beside the bed.
"The look on your face before I walked in here was precious…what were you thinking about? Or should I be asking 'who' were you thinking about..." Dracon squinted.
"I don't know what you're trying to imply, but whatever it is, drop it." Elisa retorted coldly, knowing full well that Dracon had always suspected that Elisa had a soft spot for Goliath and that he was the one Dracon was referring to.
Dracon laughed again.
"Ok, Wifey, that's fine. You don't have to 'fess up to it. It doesn't matter anyways, since you'll never see him again. You will be otherwise occupied here, with me." He smirked and let out a final laugh before beginning again.
"Anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you is that i wanted you to know that most of Uncle Joe's fortune is now in my Swiss bank accounts. Thanks, Sugar." He planted a rough kiss on her head that resulted in her nearly slapping his face, but almost immediately, he seized her right wrist as her palm was about to make contact with his cheek. He held on harshly, making Elisa nearly cry out in pain. As he applied more and more pressure to her wrist, the look on his face was one of annoyance and infuriation.
Through clenched teeth, he said, "I'm getting a little tired of all the violence against me. This hostility will have to stop soon. Or you'll have to be dealt with. And trust me, Sugar, you don't want to be dealt with." What seemed like hours went by until he finally released Elisa's extremely sore right wrist. She rubbed the tender bruised areas on her delicate forearm and wrist, looking up at Dracon as he rose from his kneeling position at Elisa's bedside with tears of pain forming and threatening to fall from her chestnut eyes. Dracon began to walk away. He paused at the foot of the bed, turned toward Elisa and said, "Remember that, Wifey. I own you now. What you do to me will have serious consequences, so you might want to think twice about trying that shit again. I won't tolerate a woman who doesn't know her place." His eyes were like fire, burning a hole in Elisa's heart. His words made her shudder, and she turned her head away from him, tightly closing her eyes once more.
He walked to the door, opened it, and was about to walk out of her room when she suddenly opened her eyes. Something had just occurred to her.
"Tony! You just said that you only got some of the fortune now that we're married. How do you get the rest now"
Intrigued at the question, Dracon walked back towards her bed, nasty smile glued on his face. Upon reaching her bed again, he hovered over her. He then stared into her beautiful brown eyes, and, with an air of confidence, said,
"If you have my child."