Do not own General Hospital or any of the characters.

Thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter. This one is a little longer, I promise.

The Flame of Franco

A Wedding of Sorts...

Sam didn't remember falling asleep but she figured she must have dozed off for a bit as her eyes fluttered open and she lifted her head. Her neck rang with pain. It was stiff from sleeping at an odd angle.

"Good Morning!" spoke Franco in a sing-a-song voice.

Sam looked immediately towards were he stood at the back of the church. Her eyes were dark with irritation.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" asked the artist as he continued to walk to the front of the church. It was the next morning.

Sam did not say anything at this as she continued to stare at the man as he approached her.

"Well, you don't seem to share Jason's need to see me. He went all the way to California where he thought I would be. However, I am sure he was deeply disappointed to find that I wasn't there. Who wouldn't be?" he asked, that famous smirk of his appearing on his face. The corners of his eyes winkling as he continued to smirk at her.

Sam looked at the artist sceptically. She didn't know what the artist was talking about with Jason going to California. She wondered if he was pulling her leg or not.

"But don't worry Sam. Jason is on his way back here now. He will be here shortly," continued on the artist. He was now standing a few feet away from where Sam was.

"What do you mean, he will be here shortly?" she asked in confusion. That didn't make any sense to her. She knew that Jason would rescue her but what did Franco know? Was there something else to his plot that just keeping her in this church to leer Jason?

"Oh, that will be revealed in all good time," spoke the artist in a low voice. He took a step towards her and touched the side of her face, making her crinch.

"GET A WAY!" cried out Sam, spitting in the artist face. She didn't have use of her hands but she still had her legs. She kicked and flared them at the artist. She wished though she was wearing her four inch heeled boots, instead of being bare foot.

Franco just laughed at this. "You know I have been watching you," he was still towering over Sam. He wasn't afraid of her kicking. "I saw you trying to escape. I like my women feisty. Your friend Maxie wasn't though. She was too easy to get in the sack. She had been a disappointment but not you Sam. You put up a fight! I like this," His face was just inches away from hers again. His eyes were gleaming with amusement as he continued to smile at her.

Sam locked eyes with Franco. There was a darkness to them that she did not like. Her heart was pounding rapidly with fear. She had seen that look before on his face, it made her sick. A cold sweat ran down her back as she continued to look on at the twisted face of Franco. "Your Sick!" she spat, trying to find her voice. She couldn't crumble. She had to stay confident. She wouldn't allow Franco to manipulate her.

"YOUR SICK!" she cried again, this time louder. Her voice rang off the rafters of the church. She once again attempted to kick him, this time in the groin. However she missed.

Franco took a step back at this and just laughed. "See, I haven't even touched you yet and you are still fighting! I like you Sam!" He then continued to smile at her as he took a seat in the first pew of the church.

"I have noticed that you are wearing an engagement ring on your finger. When's the wedding?" He asked as he stretched himself out onto the pew. "I do hope to receive an invitation. Since, I am practically family to Jason...even if he chooses to ignore it." There was a tone of bitterness in his voice at these last words.

Sam just stared at Franco at this. She wasn't sure what he meant by saying that he was family to Jason. They both knew that Jason hated Franco. They weren't even close to being family. But again, it was Franco they were talking about. She figured it was just another one of the artist's mind games. "Jason is going to find me and kill you!" she stated, her voice shaking slightly. She was talking more to herself then to put fear in Franco. If she didn't say anything, she felt like she would lose it. She need to keep the upper hand here.

"Oh I do hope he finds us, Sammy," replied the artist, the smile appearing once again on his face. "I want him to attend the wedding."

"What wedding?"

"Our Wedding of course!" replied Franco towards her as he lay out on the bench. "Why else would we be in a church!?" He then gestured with his hands to the ceiling. He continued to smirk at her for a second longer before sitting up and winked at Sam.

Sam then watched as Franco gave a little wave before walking down the aisle of the church and exited. Tears immediately filled her eyes as a sudden wave of nausea came over her. She needed to get out of here before Franco returned.

However, Franco returned only a few moments later. There was mischief in his eyes as he walked towards her. There was a garment bag in his arms. "I know it's always a big deal for women to pick out their dresses and all. But I took the liberty of picking out yours," he explained at he showed her the black garment bag and placed it on the pew. "But there is one thing we must do before I can allow you to see the dress."

Sam didn't like the sound of this. She let out a ear piercing scream as he began to come towards her. But she knew it was no good. The church had been abandoned for months now. Due to flooding, the church had been closed and unused, well the damaged was repaired. There was no one there except for her and Franco. "PLEASE GET A WAY!" she cried out again as the artist towered over her.

She was defenceless as Franco ran a hand down her neck and the front of her chest.

Tears fell down her cheeks as fear coursed through her body. She knew what was to come.

"You will make a beautiful bride," whispered Franco into her ear.

She was biting down on her lower lip as she waited for what was to come next. His breath was hot and uncomfortable on her neck. She looked anywhere but into his eyes.

Franco then reached for something in the back of his pocket. It was a needle. "I'm sorry to have to do this Sammy but it will so much easy this way." He then in one fluid motion stabbed the needle into her neck.

Sam's vision blurred immediately as the drug quickly entered her blood stream and took affect. Her head all the sudden seemed to heavy for her neck as it fell against her chest. A few moments later she was out cold.

"That is much better," spoke Franco as he cupped the sides of Sam's face and planted a kiss on her lips. It was always so much better when they were silent, he thought to himself. Discarding the needle onto the floor, he then once again reached for something in his pocket. This time it was a pair of scissors. Which he used to cut the plastic restraints from Sam's wrists. Her limp body which had been resting against the column now slumped onto the floor.

"Awwh, you look beautiful Sam!" whispered Franco as he held the camera up and snapped a photo. Sam was propped up on the pew. She was conscious now but barely. Her hands were once again bounded behind her back. She was dressed in a white flowing ball gown. Her hair was piled up in a French twist. There was a mid length veil pinned to the back of it.

"You make a blushing bride!" spoke Franco again as he continued to snap away at Sam. "Now smile for the camera! We don't want a frowning bride!"

Sam who could barely lift her head, looked over to Franco. Her vision was slowing coming back to her as she took in the sight of the artist as he stood in front of her, a camera in his hand. Confusion fogged her mind. Why did he keep on calling her a bride? she thought to herself. Her eyes then fell onto what she was wearing. She didn't remember putting on the dress.

A wave of nausea crashed over her as she once again looked on at Franco with disbelief. What had the psycho do to her?

Franco was still chattering away but she had tuned him out. She was thinking about how she needed to get away and quickly. Who knew what that bastard had done to her while she had been unconscious? She was afraid what he would do next since she was awake now. She had to get away before this so called wedding took place. She tried to make very little movement as her eyes shifted around the room, looking for possible escape routes.

"Oh darn, I'm seem to be out of film," spoke Franco as he looked down at the old SLR camera he held in his hands. "I know what you are thinking, who uses film anymore? Digital would be so much easy. But film is such a dying art. It's more work but in the end, it is worth it. It will make the wedding photos so more romantic looking!" He smirked at Sam at this before turning his back to her and walking towards the altar, where he had set up a make shirt table of sorts. It was there the artist began to busy himself with changing the film roll of his camera.

Sam couldn't believe her luck as the artist turned his back to her. This was her moment to escape. She counted to three before quickly rising to her feet and began to ran away.

However, it wasn't that easy. She was still heavy satiated with whatever drug Franco had put in her. Her legs were like rubber underneath her weight as she stood up and tried to run. She didn't get very far. Only a few feet before tripping on the edge of the gown and falling face first to the floor. She didn't have her hands to soften her fall.

She closed her eyes as her chin smacked against the marble flooring of the church. Pain spread through her like fire. It smeared her vision as she cried out. Her nose was bleeding heavily. She assumed it was broken. Her lip and chin were cut and bleeding. A cry of pain escaped from her at this.

Franco turned immediately around at this. He hadn't been expecting that. The artist just stood there for a second watching as she rolled onto her side and spat blood out. She was coughing loudly now. She had gotten the wind knocked out of her. Putting the camera down, Franco knelt down beside her. She did not try to fight him as he picked her up and placed her back on the pew. "And this is why we don't run away," spoke Franco in a soft voice towards her. He spoke to her like you would a child.

"Stay here!" he spoke in a firm voice to her as he rose to his feet and began to go get something to wipe the blood away with.

Sam stayed were she was. She did not try to fight or escape. She was in too much pain. Franco returned a moment letter with a towel and a bowl of water. He then began to clean Sam up. He didn't need her to bleed out before his plan had even begun.

He still needed her alive and well for now.

Thanks for reading! Please review!

Julie