Prisons of Stolen Dreams

by Christopher St. John Sampayo

  He left the house and he reflected on all that he had learned. This strange idea of being disconnected to events and a world existing beyond him found its way into Steven’s art.

  It elevated his work to new levels and at this point, Steven decided to elevate his following to new levels as well. He started to enter the houses of those he followed when the women were at home.

  He learned to follow older women. He followed beautiful women in their late twenties or early thirties. These were the women who were the most likely to live alone. Younger girls still often lived with parents or roommates. Women older than thirty-six were often married or were just not to his liking. His selected range typically lived alone and independently. This gave him a high degree of maneuverability.

  He would first observe his subject’s patterns through their windows. He also started entering their houses when they were not home. This way he could in his mind walk through the course of their day. He could identify where the best place for him to reside unnoticed when they were home would be. He didn't need to write anything down or make notes. His mind simply stored all the details away.

  He would often be in their house when they came home. He would watch them through a cracked door. He would watch them from a closet. He would stay perfectly still watching. There was a thrill in doing this. He was close to being caught at times and this excited him. He knew he must stay quiet and unmoving. It took all his determination to do so.

  If he could not see them from where he was hiding he would close his eyes and listen. He would listen to the sounds of them washing dishes or doing chores. He would close his eyes and picture what actions they were taking based on the sounds he was hearing. This was made easier by all the details he had already catalogued in his mind. Without seeing he knew which dish was being washed. He knew what the remote in their hand looked like as they flipped through the channels on their television.

  He did this for over a year. He watched women in their homes unnoticed.

  Then one day it happened. He was hiding in a closet in a woman’s house when she came home. It was a closet in a guest room that he knew she seldom went into. He sat in silence listening to her as she moved around her kitchen. He then heard her walking. After a few moments he heard the door to the guest room open. He realized that she was coming to the closet he was hiding in.

  Panic seized Steven. He was trapped and helpless. He was about to be discovered.

  A moment later the woman opened the closet door. She held in her hand some item that had been picked up from a dry cleaner. Steven observed the way her face went from neutral to panic stricken when she saw him. She started to let out a scream. In a moment, Steven's life flashed before his eyes. He saw his art work. He saw his fame. He saw his parents. He suddenly saw all that destroyed by this woman's scream. All of his world would come crumbling down. It was the instant image of his parents that impacted him the most. They were proud of all he had accomplished. Now they would hear that their son was a freak and a pervert.

  In his pocket Steven carried a knife. It was something he used at times to cut open window screens. It was the thoughts of his parents that made him reach for the knife to silence this woman's scream.

  Steven drove the knife into the woman’s stomach and cut her scream short. The woman looked down at the knife that was protruding from her abdomen. A rage seized Steven that this terrible woman would try to ruin his life. He pulled the knife from her and stabbed her again and again.

  The woman fell to the floor coughing up the last of her life.

  Steven’s heart was pounding in his chest. He stared down at the woman. She lay on the ground in a pool of blood. Her eyes were wide from having witnessed her own murder. Steven stood above her. He stood above her and looked down at her. He observed her lifeless eyes and lifeless body. This quiet house would be quiet again when he left. How long would this body lie here, he wondered. How long would she go unnoticed? A day? A week? During that time this body would stay here unmoving. It would stay here un-living.

  As he stared down at the woman’s corpse Steven realized that the world would go on. The world would continue moving around this woman even after her life was extinguished. Her friends would still go about their lives. They would still have to go to work. Everything had ended for this woman but not for everyone else.

  A thought suddenly occurred to Steven. Even though this woman was dead he could still watch her life a bit longer. He could watch her friends. He could watch her family. He could watch them as they moved through life without her.

  This thought excited him. It excited him so much that looking at this woman's lifeless body he was suddenly aroused.

  Steven began to put all that had occurred into context. He had made a mistake. However, how much discovery comes from mistakes? he asked himself. Even the telephone had been discovered by mistake. Now he had to make the most that he could from this. He had discovered something new but he must make sure that he removed all traces of his presence from this moment.

  His mind, his brilliant mind played back every instance of his visiting this women's house. He was wearing gloves so he was not worried about fingerprints. He went through the house reviewing any place that might bare a trace of him. After he was satisfied he had eliminated any trace of himself he left the woman’s house.

  He went home and he waited. He scanned the newspaper and the local news every day. Almost a week after he extinguished the woman’s life he saw on the news that the woman’s body had been discovered. Her co-workers became concerned after her absence from work. They contacted her family. Her family contacted the woman’s landlord. A strange smell was noticed when the door was open. Just as Steven had realized it would, the world continued after the woman had died. Even decay had continued.

  Steven was not frightened watching the news. Instead watching the news excited him. It gave him a new opportunity to observe. Steven attended the woman’s funeral. He didn’t enter the church where her funeral was taking place. Instead he sat in his car watching from a distance. He watched as her friends and family came to pay their respects. It was fascinating to watch their tears. They were oblivious to his observations, but he knew why they cried. He saw the beauty of their tears. He was responsible for that beauty. In his mind, Steven thought he had almost done this woman a great favor. The world continued to go on without her, but for a time it went on remembering how important she was.

  Steven discovered a new passion in life. It was a new feeling of being alive.

  His art took forms of savagery and violence. It also took shapes of loss. Steven now had a new reason to push and challenge himself. His desire to watch took a new direction.

  He only targeted a few women a year and he became very good at what he did. He would watch a woman for weeks. Sometimes he would watch her for months. His mind recorded everything including his own actions. That is how many were caught, Steven had come to realize. Their own actions that a person forgets typically brings about their downfall. This was not the case for Steven. He noticed everything. He remembered everything.

  He found that he liked to watch the women he pursued sleep. His silence and stealth were beauty. The women would not hear him as he watched over them at night. As he did so he would think of how if he was not in their room right now they would still sleep unaware of his existence. However, he was aware of theirs. As he watched them he would think of how these women had slept in their room like this countless nights before. Soon they would sleep in this room a final time.

  When he was ready Steven would kneel beside the women as they slept. He would kneel by the bed and reach for them. Sometimes he would gently stroke their hair. This is typically when they would awaken. The sudden look of horror on their face always aroused him. It was that sudden moment when two worlds, when two universes, collided. In that moment one ended.

  He would not do anything about his arousal while he was with the women. He knew that would get him caught and end his quest of watching. After he end
ed the women’s life he would wait. He would wait till he was alone at home and safe in his own bed. Then he would remember. He would remember everything in the greatest detail. In those moments when he had his orgasm he felt close to heaven.

  Tonight, was one of Steven’s special nights. Tonight, would be that amazing moment when two universes collided. It would be the brief moment that he broke through and joined the world of the woman he had been watching for so long. Her name was Sharon. She worked for an insurance company processing claims.

  As he watched her for the last two months Steven learned to read her. He studied her and in doing so he discovered her. He discovered all the little nuances that composed her life. Steven even called her number at work once. He claimed he had the wrong number but it was exciting to slip into her life for an instant since he was aware of the great thing that was about to occur.

  Now as he knelt next to this beautiful woman he felt that arousal of knowing she would open her eyes and in an instant, know his world. She would know he too existed. Then he would change her world forever.

  He watched her and he felt a tear begin to form in his eyes from the beauty of this perfect moment. He was getting excited by what was about to occur. He wanted to savor the moment and let it last as long as possible.

  Steven held a carving knife from the woman’s kitchen. He had studied all the details of the woman’s environment and he knew it was best to use a weapon that he could leave behind that was in no way connected to him.

  The woman slept in a t-shirt. She lay on her back lost in sleep.

  The moment arrived. Steven traced the blade down the woman’s rib bone. Over the years, he had begun to study the body in great detail. Da Vinci had studied the makeup of bodies to help him further his artistic ability. Steven did the same. He too studied the body to elevate his art to a greater level. However, Steven’s work was now at a level that he knew Da Vinci never dreamed of. Steven did not study the body so he could sculpt clay. He studied the body so he could sculpt events. He affected not just the events of one life but of several as the death of one had repercussions that affected many. He traced the blade up the woman’s chest. The sensation awakened her.

  She opened her eyes and she saw Steven. Her eyes grew wide. However, before the scream could leave her lips Steven pushed down. He knew exactly how much pressure he needed. The woman’s eyes went even wider as the knife broke through her chest plate and slid into her heart. Instead of a scream escaping her lips what escaped was blood. She was coughing up blood as her life ended.

  Steven knew that who we are resides in the mind. He knew that the electrical impulses in the mind outlast the life of the body. Even as her body was dying he knew her mind lived. He knew that as she was losing control of all her faculties her conscious would be the last thing to dissipate. Steven watched. He watched and captured and catalogued every detail in his mind. He mentally recorded every flutter of her eyes and every spasm of her body. He even noted the sounds he heard outside the house.

  Then the women's life was over. Steven stared down at her. She looked so beautiful. She looked beautiful with the growing pool of red on her chest. Steven knew he would create something beautiful from this moment. It would pale to the beauty of this moment but he would share the beauty of this woman's life and death in his art for the world to see.

  He stared at the dead woman and recorded all the details he could. Suddenly he heard laughter. The laughter came from behind him.

  Instantly Steven's mind started reeling. He realized he was not alone. He turned. He saw a little girl standing in the doorway. A wave of fear and shock washed over Steven. He had studied the woman long enough to know the woman did not have a child.

  The little girl stared at him and smiled. Suddenly Steven realized that there were others in the room.

  An old woman and a large man stepped into the light from shadows in the room. In an instant, the world did not make sense anymore. Who were these people who had suddenly appeared in the room? Steven’s mind screamed. His mind looked for details but everything was now different and strange. The walls seemed as if they were made of smoke that flickered like fire.

  The large man lunged for Steven. He grabbed him and pushed him to the ground. Steven was laying on his stomach. Steven tried to fight off his attacker but the man was too strong. He held Steven down firmly.

  The old woman approached Steven. Steven’s head was turned so that he could see her. The old woman used a cane to help her move down to Steven’s level on the ground. She stared at Steven through thick spectacles.

  “He is perfect,” the old woman said. She smiled. The little girl came up to Steven. She giggled again. She then jumped on the bed. She lay next to the women Steven had just killed and kissed the dead woman's cheek.

  The old woman began speaking to Steven.

  “I apologize,” the old lady said. “In another life we would have taken you with us so you could join our cause. However, that is not the way of things. Not in this life.” The old woman looked towards the little girl. “And we can only take so much back.

  The little girl got off the bed and looked down at Steven who was still being held down.

  She studied Steven for a bit. Finally, she asked, “Can I have his eyes?”

  The old woman smiled. “Yes, my dear. You may take his eyes.”

  The little girl’s smile grew. A moment later Steven saw the little girl make a scalpel appear with the skill of a magician.

  Steven screamed.

  No. Not this, he tried to say. Not his eyes. Take anything else. Just please not his eyes. However, he was held to the ground too firmly and could not get the words out. In the end though it didn't matter. Because after his eyes were removed the old woman did take everything. She also took his mind. She cut into his scalp and took pieces of Steven’s brain. She then sprayed the pieces of brain with a canister she carried with her. The pieces were then stored in sealable bags.

  The old woman looked down at what had once been an artist. “Thank you,” the old woman said to Steven who was still laying on the ground.

  The little girl was sitting on the floor a small distance away playing with the eyes that had so recently recorded every detail of a woman's death.

  The three figures disappeared and moments later Steven was alone. He lay eyeless and mindless in a world that would still go on. He was alive but he was not the same. Steven was changed.

  The police discovered him the next day. Exactly what had occurred was mystery to them. Steven was rushed to a hospital. He babbled incoherently to the doctors. A great artist was gone and there was much confusion as to why. Many referred to what had occurred as a strange tragedy.

  In an odd way, even without his eyes one such as Steven could have been happy. He had catalogued so many details of the world in his mind that even sightless he could have relived the world a million times over.

  He could have lived off the beauty of the details of his memory. However, his eyes were not the only thing that were gone. The girl and her companions had taken his memories with them as well.

  ***

  Leonard Gibbons loved young men. He loved to run his fingers through their hair. He loved to touch them. He discovered that he loved to do this most when their skin was cold. He liked to stare into their eyes most when those eyes were lifeless.

  Leonard was a wealthy man. His father left him a great fortune when he passed. After that Leonard began to play the stock market. He was very good at it. He had an instinct for understanding how the prices of stocks would rise and fall. Sometimes he was wrong, but that did not occur very often.

  He lived in a large mansion on a 400 acre estate. The house where he resided had many rooms in it, but there was one room no one except Leonard knew about.

  He worked very closely with the architects who built his house. He told them he wanted everything tailored to his liking. He soon gained a reputation for being indecisive and impulsive. He often changed his mind at the last moment and plans for t
he house would have to be changed sometimes on a day to day basis.

  In truth Leonard did this by design. It was not out of the ordinary for Leonard, an irate eccentric billionaire, to hire and fire one architect or contractor every few weeks. Many in construction would shake their heads at the chaos of the project.

  However, Leonard knew there was a great process at work. Hiring and firing so many contractors and builders during the process of building his home allowed none of them to really analyze the lay out of the house too much.

  It was through this chaotic confusion that a room eventually disappeared from the blue prints. If someone saw the blue prints of the house they would see this area listed as a foundational location. It was an area listed as poured cement. A contractor would chuckle when they saw this because they knew that the chaotic nature of Leonard’s impulsive decision making had led to this. Because of the sporadic nature of Leonard’s choices an area of 30 x 40 feet was needed to firm up the foundation of the house due to so many last-minute changes.

  In truth, the belief would not hold up to an extensive review. However, during a causal inquiry it would not be questioned. Leonard was rich enough that no one would ever look into his dealings too closely.

  He was, after all, a well-known philanthropist. Though he was impulsive at times he was also kind. He was a benefactor to several charities. He had even started a few of his own. He was a rarity. He was a rich man who cared.

  In truth thought he only really cared about one thing. He cared about kissing cold lips. He cared about looking into eyes which never flinched. In his hidden room, he became quite good at creating a place to celebrate the things he loved so much.

  Leonard turned this room that didn’t exist into a forest of deaths. He purchased the mannequins that resided in the room through third parties. No one ever knew that he regularly bought them.

  He would bring young lovers to his house. It was easy to find them online. He made sure to meet them discreetly. Once they met he would charm them and invite them to his home. He would see the way their eyes would light up when they saw his mansion. He would take them to his den and charm them. He saw how much they were in awe of him. He was a model of class and dignity.