Fun Fact!
I am actually a model and a photographer and I specialize in self-shot photography.
The vast majority of these photos actually exist and I am the subject of every single one of them. I either modeled the photos or took and modeled them myself.
I have changed a few of them slightly to better fit this story and my OC.

WARNINGS:
Descriptions of photos depicting or portraying the before and after of child abuse/violent sexual abuse/rape events.

Chapter 26

Bucky and Sam moved down the line to the next series.

This one was four photos hung side by side. In these Ella was clothed head to toe in black. She was facing the camera with a dead expression on her face. Her eyes were lifeless, cold, and unfeeling. She was standing in what appeared to be a public park, people going about their business all around her. Seemingly unaware of her.

They depicted an act in sequence. Ella standing there holding a gasoline can at her side, the world moving around her. Then a shot of her holding the gas can high above her head, pouring its contents onto herself. Next came a photo of Ella completely drenched holding a red lighter. The final photo was Ella engulfed in flames, arms down by her sides.

Meanwhile, the world kept moving around her as if nothing were happening. Her eyes and facial expression never changed, waivered, or moved from the camera.

Bucky knew the photos were edited, but it was still difficult to look at. Ella with so much pain in her features, going unnoticed, even when she set herself on fire. He had to take a step back to see the whole series and see it for what it was. A progression.

Sam did the same.

"These remind me of that protesting monk from the 60s. He sat down, set himself on fire, and just burned to death while people watched. And did nothing."

Bucky looked at him, an obvious question in his eyes. Sam responded by pulling out his phone and searching for the now-famous photo of the Vietnamese monk. He handed his phone to Bucky who looked at the photos on the small screen and back up at Ella's series.

There were similarities, but they were not the same. Bucky handed Sam his phone back and proceed to the next series. He was unable to keep looking at Ella in pain and on fire.

What he was met with was similar, yet completely different. The following three photos showed Ella, nude, and covered with lit candles in various poses. The theme of fire continuing.

In the first of the three photos Ella was facing the camera, her head held high, her shoulders squared. Her expression was almost regal, her chin slightly lifted as she looked slightly down into the camera. She had her arms crossed elegantly below her breasts.

Upon her shoulders were dozens of lit candles of differing heights creating elaborate shoulder guards of wax. Their wax dripping and pouring down her arms and onto her chest. From the look of the wax buildup, they had been burning for some time. The photos were barely lit, most of the light emanating from the candles giving an ethereal feel to the set.

The second photo was of Ella kneeling on the floor, folded over on herself. Her cheek was to the floor. She was facing the camera. The arm closest to the camera was pulled in, her hand laying gracefully on the floor at her chest, while the other was outstretched above her head. Almost like she was reaching for something.

In this photo, there was a long row of various candles burning along the entirety of her spine. From neck to her lower back. Again, the wax dripping off her sides looked as if they had been burning and building up for a long period. The wax had begun to pool on the floor around her.

Lastly, the final photo portrayed a version of the first photo from the series. Only in this one, Ella was facing away from the camera, in profile. She was looking at her hand that she had raised next to her that was holding a handful of burning candles, illuminating her face. The wax dripping off of her hand in this shot must have measured at least six or eight inches long. The candles on her shoulders were significantly shorter and the wax drippings onto her arms and chest had significantly increased in volume.

"How in the world did she pull this one off?" Bucky thought out loud.

"Maybe the flames are computer-generated. Though that doesn't explain all the wax. No matter how she did this, I am digging this set. I'm trying to pull a meaning or a message from these, but I can't." Sam replied.

"If you ask me the meaning feels like stagnation. How long would she have to stand there, or lay there, for the wax to build up like that if those candles were the sole source? And look at this middle one. She's tucked into herself, but she's reaching with the one hand."

"Maybe she feels motionless, but craves more?" Sam offered.

"Possibly. I agree with you, though. I am liking these as well. Let's see what else she has in store for us."

As they moved to the next series of photographs and saw their subject, Bucky had to step back and breathe. He was suddenly and violently reminded of cryostasis. The events of the last few days were rough on him. He was feeling their effects particularly hard now.

These shots were of a plexiglass case, sort of like a display case for a life-sized figure. The only light was the glow emanating from inside the case which was fogged up with condensation so what was inside was not visible. This progression of photos lasted four shots.

The first shot was of just the case. Then in the next a hand appeared against the inside of the Plexiglas. Followed by a photo of most of the condensation smeared away by the hand, revealing Ella looking straight at the camera. Her expression was unreadable. The last shot was of Ella screaming, her green eyes wild with fury. She appeared to be trying to escape the case. Violently. His hands balled into fists, pounding against the inside of the case.

Bucky didn't need to analyze this set of photographs. He knew exactly what this meant. He had lived it for decades. Sam got the hint by Bucky's rigid stance, and they both quickly moved on.

What they saw next seemed a bit out of place when it came to the subject matter of each series as well as the prevalent themes.

Ella was in a giant fish tank; her legs having been replaced with a huge black iridescent mermaid tail. The tail was enormous and had that look of an oil slick. In four different shots, she was posed differently in each. The fish tank that she was in was entirely too small for her and the tail.

Each shot showed her hanging over the edge of the tank, resting her head on her folded arms, tail hanging out of the other end of the tank, looking bored. Then Ella flashing a siren-like smile at the camera from over the rim of the tank, her wet hair covering her breasts in the most mermaid-like way. Then she was thrashing and splashing around sending water drops flying, suspended in midair by the capture. Finally, to her trying to crawl out of the tank, half in, half out of it.

"This makes as much sense as trying to keep a mermaid in a tank." Sam said to himself.

Bucky was struck with a thought.

"I think that's the point here."

Sam took another look at the photos and then shrugged to himself.

A server making his way around the gallery stopped Bucky and Sam in between photos to see if they would like a complimentary glass of champagne. They both accepted.

"Fancy. I wonder how much Ella spent on this show. This space alone would be pretty damn pricey. Now add in a complimentary drink and servers? She must have dropped a pretty penny on this."

Sam said before he took a sip from the flute.

"And this is not the cheap stuff either."

When Bucky responded they were in front of the next series of photos. Unlike the rest they had seen so far, this one included only one photo.

"Well, she owns the building and the gallery. She also lives upstairs. So there goes that expense. Maybe that savings went into these extras."

Sam just stared, slightly open-mouthed, at Bucky who was studying the next photo.

Ella was strung up in a very elaborate manner by a complicated series of red ropes. They also encased her whole body in various complicated patterns. The way she was hung up was also visually arresting. Her toes were barely touching the ground, her arms were both bound and held out in front of her, she was bent forward with her other leg tied up above her head.

Like a twisted and tied-up ballerina. Held in place and position by many different ropes that led off camera. Bucky was impressed with her flexibility. He understood the meaning of this one. At least most likely. He was also slightly confused.

"What's with all the rope? She's a puppet on a string, that much is obvious, but this seems a little excessive. Even if it is visually appealing."

Sam just laughed; Bucky just glared.

"It's called shibari. The art of rope bondage. She's not just a puppet on a string, she's bound even further than that. That is some complicated and masterfully done rope work. I'm guessing that there is only one to this set because of how complicated and dangerous this can be."

"Dangerous?" Bucky asked, startled.

"Once you're tied up and then hung up like that your time to work is limited. Circulation issues can arise if you leave someone in a position like this for too long. That and it's a very long and involved process. A multitude of factors goes into each position."

Bucky took a step closer to the photo and studied the rope work. Every inch of her body was covered in crisscrossing red ropes that created a latticework of designs. He could see them cutting into her flesh, the leg that was extended up and over her head was pale, while the leg she was barely standing on was a red and purple color. The expression on her face was contradictory to what Bucky was expecting.

Ella looked serene.

Bucky took another sip of the champagne as he continued to look. He almost did not register the fact that she was completely exposed and in a very compromising position. Although Ella seemed to keep… certain areas... more private than others. Bucky found himself glad for this.

More so for his own modesty, and out of respect for her. He did not want to go that far with her so soon. He wanted a chance to court this woman first. The monster in his head growled again, but Bucky kept it in check.

Bucky finished his glass and gave it to a waiter that was collecting empty glasses nearby. When he returned Sam had moved onto the next set of images.

These were more straightforward. Ella's hands were messily painted black up to her forearms. She was standing nude facing the camera. In the three images, she was transferring the black from her hands to her face and body. With each shot, she got more and more covered by the black paint.

She rubbed her hand across her face, then her mouth. Her tongue poking out in stark contrast with the black of her hand. She smeared the black over her breasts and stomach. Then she wrapped her blackened hands around her neck and down her sides.

Bucky tilted his head to the side. He knew this feeling well, but could not place it. It was familiar. Yet, he had no words for it.

"Remind me to ask her about this one. I just keep thinking 'messy'. Something is telling me it's not just messy. I'm missing something here." Bucky asked Sam as they moved on.

The following series tied in well with the previous. Ella was in a clawfoot bathtub immersed in a thick black substance. One shot was from above, her arms resting on the edges of the tub, her feet propped up at the bottom as she looked up at the camera. Her hair was cascading out behind her over the edges and her shoulders.

Her face was fully made up, even more so than it was tonight. Bucky noticed that the lipstick that she was wearing in the photo was the same shade she was wearing now.

Next came a shot from the side of Ella sitting in the tub, her hair around her shoulders, as she let the black substance drip from her hands held out in front of her. A melancholy look graced her face as her eyes watched her hands. The final shot was of her covered in the black substance. A leg and arm draped over the side of the white tub dripping that same viscous black goo everywhere.

In this frame, Ella was covered in it. Her hair was black and dripping, her arms and legs were covered in black tar. The only thing left mostly clean was her face. With the perfect makeup and the sad eyes staring at them through the camera.

Sam considered the set for a few moments. Bucky didn't have words for it, but he liked the look of these. Especially the first one. At this point, he would be stupid to think she was not a truly gifted photographer. Considering she not only took all of these photos, she modeled them as well.

"This takes stewing in your own muck to a whole new level."

Bucky barked out a laugh at Sam's statement.

It was true. On closer inspection of the series, he would have to agree that that would be the aptest description and analysis of these photos. Sam left Bucky to go give his empty glass to a waiter.

Bucky moved to the next series which was the last before the large hallway turned. He looked down the new slightly smaller hallway and saw that there was just one set of rather large photographs on one side. Then the hallway turned again. This time turning back towards the entrance of the gallery.

Bucky looked up at the next photos hanging on the wall. He took one look at them and froze. Rage like he had never felt before welled up in his veins. He didn't know how to respond or how to react so he turned around and put his back to the photos.

Sam came back and saw Bucky's reaction before he saw the photos. When he did, he understood Bucky's response and thought of what the best course of action was going to be. He felt a fraction of the anger Bucky was feeling. And he didn't even know Ella all that well, if at all. But these photos still elicited an emotional response.

Now they both knew why Ella had put those disclaimers and an age restriction on this show.

Sam looked at the photos again. Bucky's back was still turned. Neither man knew what to do. Sam made a suggestion.

"She took these photos for a reason and put them on display for a reason. Are we going to respect that? Even if it hurts to see? I know this must be extremely hard for you to look at these, but I think you should. If you don't, I understand why. I think she would, too."

Bucky had to take a moment to reign himself in. Calm himself down. Figure out exactly what he was going to do. How he was going to proceed. He hated seeing her in pain, but this was just too much. This was more than a step too far. This was a giant leap.

He squared his shoulders and prepared to turn around to face the photos.

"I have to do this, Sam. For her. I wanted to get to know her. The good, the bad, and the ugly. If this hurts me as much as it does now, I can only imagine what she must feel. And felt."

In front of them were three photos. In all three shots, Ella was lying in a child's bed. She was wearing a little girl's nightdress. Surrounded by stuffed animals.

The first shot showed Ella curled up, asleep, cuddling a stuffed rabbit. Dozens of black hands were creeping up from under the bed, reaching towards her.

In the next frame, the black hands were grabbing her and pinning her down. Ella was spread eagle on the bed now. Her legs were forced apart by the black hands. Her arms were being held out and down to the bed. She was now wide awake, screaming, tears streaming down her face. The hands were gripping and ripping at her nightdress taking her stuffed rabbit away from her as she screamed.

The most upsetting part of the photo was the outline in the foreground of the shot. It was the shoulder of a man. A man that was looming over the bed. The man Ella was staring at with panicked eyes.

The final photo made Bucky sick. Physically sick. But he looked at it as long as he could anyway.

Ella was still spread out on the bed, but she had rolled onto her side, crying hysterically. Her face was red and swollen from crying and screaming. Her nightgown was in tatters. She had bruises and lacerations on her face and the exposed skin where the nightdress had been torn and violently ripped at.

There was now blood running down her legs and pooling at the apex of her thighs where her nightdress had been forced up past her hips, staining the mattress beneath.

There was no mistaking what these photos meant. Ella had been violently raped as a child.