The Giggle Collector Chapter eight

[Journia]

The Giggle Collector
Chapter Eight
M.C. Laphar​

Cana was quite surprised when Dante ordered her to get on the bed. He then tied her arms and legs to the bedposts, his eyes never changing from his passive, deep seeking stare. He then slowly straddled her just bto make her tense up in nervousness. He then raised his hands slowly, elegantly, they hovered over Cana's ribs before they began their slow descent downward to her body. Midway Cana shrieked in terror. And looked at Dante with a hurt expression.

“I thought you said you weren't going to tickle me!” She pouted.
“No, I said I'd not let them lay a finger on you. You however, are not safe from my own hands.” He smiled as his hands landed on her sides. Cana tensed up and then screamed as Dante's fingers danced along her middle.
Her face twisted painfully before finally allowing her mouth to release the laughter that Dante desired. For fifteen minutes all Cana did was laugh and squirm under her captor's devilish hands. Her temperature rose slightly, and her hair, which was so well done when they arrived at Belair, had become an unkempt mess.

“Please...Dante....I beg of you, stop this...” She whined.
“Well, just because you said please...”
“Thank you....”
“Did you really think I'd stop?” he asked as he worked his fingers along her hips.
“GAAAAHAHAAA!!!”
“Did you really think I'd not take offense to you using the name of my beloved?”
“NOOOOOOOHOHAHAHAAAA!!!” Cana shrieked, she pulled on the bed posts in a futile attempt to snap them.
Dante took off her snoes and continued along her stockinged soles. “HAHAHAHAAAA...AAAAHAHAHAAAAA!!!”
“Do you enjoy this Cana?” Dante whispered, “do you enjoy being brought to the very edge of your resolve?”
“STOP PLEASE!”
“Please? It would please you for me to cease, yet it is me you are meant to please,” He dug in harder into her soles, “and it pleases me to continue.”

Cana's shrieks of laughter echoed through the mansion, and it competed for the attention of the attendants with the sound of the orchestral band. The louder Cana yelled, the louder the band would play. The louder the band played, the louder it seemed that Cana's laughter would echo. Or perhaps it was because her laughter was more enjoyable to the guests than the sound of Brahms or Pachelbel's Kanon in D.

At the end of it all, Dante undid Cana's binds and let her rest a while. She just stared at the ceiling for twenty minutes while she caught her breath. Her dark tresses of hair scattered about her like the rays of dark sun, or the arms of an octopus. At times she'd burst into giggle fits seemingly for the Hell of it. While she caught her breath, Dante sat behind her and began combing out her hair. He then began to plait it into two long braids. Once she had caught her breath, Dante put her shoes back on and led her back downstairs. Cana could still feel Dante's fingers dancing on her sides, and as a result she had a silly grin on her face when she walked back into the ballroom. Grin or not, everyone in the ballroom had heard Cana's explosive laughter.

“How the Hell does he get such fine women to be his dates?” One man wondered aloud. This brought on a lot of whispers of curiosity. But Dante told no tales. His lips were sealed, and they were shut until he and Cana returned to the table. Then Cana spoke to him.
“You are not afraid that Claude will reveal my identity?”
“No,” Dante said. “he won't, because then everyone in this room excluding your uncle and I will want a chance to drive you insane.” Cana went cold. The idea of all of those grimy foreign fingertips sliding on her body was both frightening and infuriating.
“Why?” was her next word.
“Because they all find it very status raising if they tickled the relative of a Master.”
“What about Masters themselves?” She asked with evident annoyance.
“Associates do not tickle associates. Doing so gets you thrown out of the Associates.”
“It's like Fight Club?”
“Fight Club?”
“Yeah. The first rule of Fight Club, you don't talk about Fight Club.”
“Oh, that's the first rule of Gargalene Associates.”
“So; The First Rule of Associates, Do not Talk About Associates.”
“Correct.”
“Then how the Hell do you find it?”
“You are given a number of exclusive clubs to join once you amass a certain amount of money.”
“Where are you ion this scale?”
“We, my dear Cana,” he said as he placed his hand gently upon hers, “are at the very top of the chain of wealth. Everyone you see here, is a member of this club, and the whole club is in attendance tonight. We are the top one percentile of the first percentile of the first percentile ad infinitum, of the most wealthy people on the planet Earth.”
“Sickening.”
“Simply because they delight in a pastime that to others seems trivial, and to you, deprave, does not make it sick.”
“When they keep slaves it is.”
“Your uncle Claude Fadruthiya keeps slaves.” Dante paused, “by the way, how did that happen?”
“What?”
“Claude? Your father's name is Maloj, yet your uncle is named Claude.”
“Honestly, I don't know...” Cana realized the oddity.

Claude meanwhile was on the phone with Cana's father.

“Maloj, I found Cana.”
“How did you know she was missing?”
“I saw her at one of my meetings. I was pretty sure she'd been kidnapped.”
“Well, where is she?”
“I can't tell you that,”
“Why?”
“Because the first rule of the club is to not talk about the club. But I can tell you where she will be.”

Ten o'clock finally came about, and everyone watched as the band retreated into the foyer, and a large box cloaked in red velvet was brought in. Large however, would have been an understatement. This box nearly borke being squeezed into the ballroom. When it was finally brought in and placed in the center of the room, the host of the party once again, spoke.
“Ladies and Gentlemaen,” she said calmly, “I have for you a gift from our three greatest benefactors. Claude Fadruthiya,”Claude whooped and hollered, praising himself exorbitantly. “Menelaus Donne, and Dante Aligheri.” Dante was silent. He watched the box with care in his eyes. The most normal emotion he'd shown thus far.

The cloak was removed, and the contents of the box were revealed. There was a mound of dirt in it, stuck in the mound of dirt were among other things, rocks, and small plants. On the top of the hillwere three large bronze crucifixii. And tied to them were three people. Two strong looking men, and one slender female.

There were shouts of lustful joy in the room and one gasp of horror. Cana recognized the woman in the middle. She turned to Dante and saw his eyes. They were not happy, they were quite annoyed. Fire ran through his eyes as they did on Cana's belly.
“You son of a bitch.” Cana hissed.
“This is Claude's doing...” he said as he looked over at his fellow associate. “I am going to have a long talk with him when he leaves.”
“You kidnapped my friend too?”
“Of course, I can't have witnesses.” Cana turned back to Marie and attempted to move toward the box holding the three prisoners. But Dante held her arm with a seemingly supernatural grip.
“Don't go near it,” he said severely. “You will die if you do.”
“Get off of me!”
“You will die!” he hissed, “these people are sacrifices.”
“What the Hell are you talking about?” Cana shrieked. The loud cheers muffled her voice.
“These three are going to die tonight.” Dante said, “And Claude is the one responsible for that woman being brought here.” Cana turned to see the box being swarmed by people who were climbing into the box, and the people inside were screaming for help. Marie had a look of horror on her face as her dress was ripped away from her body. The people pulled her and the two men down and the three people disappeared, screaming under the insanely reaching, curling fingers.
“We must leave.” Dante said as he watched Claude leave the ballroom. He grabbed Cana hurreidly and left the room as well.

The trees flew by the windows quickly as the limousine sped down the deserted highway. Mehra and Maloj had gotten the address from Claude of the Aligheri Estate, and were on their way to meet the wealthy recluse. They were sure that Dante did not know it. And they were quite prepared to do battle with him. Mehra had on her thigh, a tactical knife which she had sharpened very well before leaving the house. In addition to the blade, she had a semiautomatic pistol with armor piercing rounds loaded within. Maloj was similarly equipped. The two of them stared into the darkness at the other end of the limo. They were excited to fially rid themselves, personally, of Dante Alighieri.