Stockholm Syndrome

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Dark. So dark. No light. Skin burns. Eyes can't open. Heart pounds. Faster. Faster. Panic. I'm afraid of the dark. Afraid to close my eyes when I know it won't be any different when I open them. Then, I see a faint blue light. I follow it. A suffocating stench of blood overwhelms me. Sweat breaks out on skin. Cold shivers down spine. Knife scrapes against bone. A grating sound that hurts my soul. Then, a scream. One I knew now. Knew all too well. I round a corner. The Master stands with a whip in hand, Sky Eyes is on the ground, dying. Blood trickles from cracks in the walls, splashing on the ground like sickening waterfalls of death. Sky Eyes looks at me, his eyes that I loved and needed so filled with tears. "Help..." I couldn't move, could only watch as he shut his eyes in defeat, the whip being raised again. It came down.

I wake up as Sky Eyes threw back his head, screaming in agony as blood covered my vision. I can't leave him. Not now. I know what I did wrong yesterday. What if he's dead because of me?... I bolt upright and get up, opening my door and running through the pitch black corridors. I'm too scared for Sky Eyes to be scared myself. The dark will follow me, but I need to get to Ian first. Finally, I emerge from the black, seeing the door up ahead, lit by the burning brazier beside it. I feel my hand curl round the handle, shoving it open; I hear the hinges grind on eachother as it swings open. I blink back tears when I see the true extent of the damage I wreaked on his fragile body yesterday. There's congealed blood everywhere, all over his clothes. The deep gouges in his arms have dried; his skin is paper white, he hasn't moved since yesterday. I leap down the stairs and run over to him, checking for a pulse, choking back my nausea as the disgusting stench of old and new blood washed over me. It was there. Barely. I breathe a sigh of relief, taking out my knife and kneeling down, slashing at the ropes binding him to the chair.

His hands fall limp and I stand back up again, slipping my hands round him and hauling him up into my arms. He doesn't react or anything. I try to ignore the crusted blood on his wounds cracking as I moved forward, his dangling limbs swinging by themselves. I step out of the cursed room and into the corridor once more, this time with Sky Eyes in my arms. Limp. Unconscious. Dying. All because of me. I bite my lip, fighting back the tears as I make my way into the darkness, the fear inside of me being beaten into submission by my concern for Ian. Soon, I see the firelight of the brazier outside of my room creeping along the moist stone walls. I kick my door open wide and step through it into the room. I lay him down on my bed and shut the door, turning to my bedside drawers. My mind is clear. I have to help him. I open the top drawer and take out the bandages and disinfectant Rose m a r y gave me back when they still hurt me. I grit my teeth and turn to Ian. He looks so vulnerable, lying there, so pale... I purse my lips and gently move him into a seated position, removing his jacket and shirt. Now I see how deep the wounds are, how much blood he's lost. It's no use. I don't know how to help him. The tears run down my face as I fight to swallow the choking lump in my throat. I need Rosemary. I need her.
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GENERAL FILE 1738: SUBJECT 304
Interesting traits: Was slightly bipolar before capture, experiments increased the effects of this to tenfold, pain had interesting effect on mental health, we had an mental health doctor in who declared Subject mentally unstable with severe MPD. We killed him after; that was all we wanted from him and we can't risk anyone hearing of our secret practices here. Summary; Subject is unstable and hard to control, but not impossible. Much discipline needed, needs to be trained adequately, like a dog of sorts. A rabid and vicious dog.
Born: 1991
Experiments: 2007-2013
In that time Subject 304 would've naturally aged by 6 years, giving him a final age of 22, two years younger than SSundee. Because of this we had to accelerate his ageing process by 2 years. We succeeded and in 2013, Subject turned '24', as did Ian, our target. Only, there was a flaw in our plan. We couldn't get Subject to imitate Ian's characteristics. Without that, he would be known as a fake straight away. There was one hope though, but it wasn't him. Now, we plan in 2015 to kidnap SSundee and take multiple samples of his DNA in order to generate more accurate clones than Subject 304. At best, Subject will only be a 'prison warden' of sorts. After we have made the clones, he will be killed. He is of no use to us now.
PROF. H. RANDEL
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"R-Rosemary! Please help!" I froze at the sound of Derp's hoarse voice. If he found any of these documents... I shoved them beneath my bed and blew the candle out, opening the door. Derp looked distraught. His crooked eyes were filled with tears and his hands were shaking. I didn't often see his more emotional side/s, so it came as a bit of a shock to see him so anxious and terrified. "Derp! What is it?!" He choked back a sob. "I-It's Ian...I hurt him and I don't kn-now how to heal him!" I sighed. "Hold on." I grabbed my medical kit from under my bed, ignoring the rustle of the papers I'd hidden there too as they brushed against my hand, trying to distract me. I straightened up and realised Derp had run off. My eyes widened and I bolted after him, just remembering to shut the door before going after the sound of his fading footsteps. We entered an unfamiliar part of the labyrinth like layout of the labs. Braziers burnt at regular intervals, throwing an eerie orange glow over everything. Finally, Derp came to a halt and pushed a door open. I followed him through, shutting it behind me and turning, before stopping dead. Ian was lying on the bed, pale as death, his skin in stark contrast to the gory crimson wounds and gouges on his shoulder and side. There was blood staining his skin and I dimly recalled seeing it on Derp's hands and on the knife's blade as it swung from his belt.

I got down beside the bed and opened the kit, taking out cotton wool and disinfectant, pouring it on and taking a deep breath before beginning the arduous task of cleaning Ian's grisly wounds. I had to hold my breath as the smell of blood evaded my senses, making my thoughts fuzzy and hard to focus on. One of the wounds went so deep I felt the cotton bud stroke the bone. My stomach convulsed and I remember hearing Derp sobbing quietly as I worked. I had to disinfect and stitch up his slit wrists too. Give it a few more days and they wouldn't of made it. Finally, after cleaning all the wounds, managing to sew them up with difficulty and some cussing, I applied antiseptic cream and stood up, my back aching. "Derp, you wanna wake him up?" He nodded reluctantly and moved to the bed as I stepped back, packing my stuff away and watching as Derp shook Ian's good shoulder gently. "Ian. Ian wake up." He said softly. I had never seen this caring side of him. I saw something in his eyes I hadn't seen in anyone's here for years. Love. He probably couldn't remember the meaning of the word, let alone know what it felt like. After a few minutes, Ian's eyes slowly opened, and I realised why Derp called them 'sky' eyes. The iris' were a breathtaking blue, like Derp's had been like before... It was terrible knowing I knew so much about him now, yet he knew nothing. He knew only the lies that Randel had fed him. Ian looked at Derp and his eyes filled with fear. Then he saw me and realised he was shirtless. He blushed as did I; I averted my eyes and left quietly, knowing my work was done. I just hoped Derp had 'learnt his lesson'.

(A/N: Btw dudes, I've had to go back and change a crap ton of stuff, like Derp and Rosemary's ages, how long he'd been there, etc. So if this confuses you a bit with the dates, then I recommend you go back and skim through the last 2 chapters, as I made a few changes to stuff for it to make sense. Hope you're still enjoying this story, and if so, lemme know in the comments, I love having feedback :3 And over 500 reads in 9 days?! That's insane! Thankyou dudes so much :) Stay awesome for me! Squeaks! 😆)