Subdue-X

To Have Control Over A Heart

The silence in the van wrapped around me like a shroud, heavy and suffocating as I worked the sharp edge against the zip tie. Every breath felt like it was stolen from the air between us, my pulse quickening with each delicate movement. The tie finally snapped, and I paused, letting the moment linger. My heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through me as I casually flung the blanket off and sat up, my eyes locking onto Christian’s through the rearview mirror.

His expression was unreadable, but I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like he was holding back the urge to crush it. The air between us crackled with unspoken anger, something dark and unsettling simmering beneath the surface.

Without breaking eye contact, I reached for the vial bag and swung myself into the front seat. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened further, his whole body radiating a barely contained fury. But he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just watched me with eyes that seemed to darken with every passing second.

“What, you really think it would've been any different if I didn't sign the paper?” I broke the silence, my voice cutting through the thick tension like a knife. I wanted to provoke him, to force him to react, to break through whatever wall he was hiding behind.

“Anna—” he warned, his voice low, a dangerous edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. But I didn’t stop.

“With you dead, they would've done it anyways.” My words hung in the air, bitter and cold, and for a moment, I thought I saw something break in his eyes.

Christian slammed the van into gear, pulling into a neighborhood without warning. The sudden movement jerked me forward, but I kept my eyes on him, waiting, daring him to lose control. He was on the edge, teetering between restraint and something darker. I could see it in the way his shoulders tensed, the way his breath came out in short, sharp bursts.

We drove in silence, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on us until we reached our destination. He killed the engine, the quiet humming between us like a ticking bomb. For a moment, neither of us moved. The air was thick with tension, a battle of wills fought in silence.

Then, with slow deliberation, Christian pulled out a vial and a syringe, his eyes never leaving mine. He was methodical, precise, the slight clink of the glass against the needle almost taunting. My body stiffened as he shot the liquid into the air, the motion almost casual but filled with an underlying threat.

I leaned away, pressing myself against the cool glass of the window, but his presence consumed the small space between us. He tossed the empty vial lightly in my direction, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “It makes you forget, this specific drug anyway.” He rotated the glass vial in his hand, his eyes dark and intent.

“Why would you want me to forget?” My voice wavered, the vulnerability creeping in despite my efforts to remain cold.

“Perhaps because I want to do something that I don’t want you to remember.” His tone was soft, almost tender, but the implication made my blood run cold.

I reached for the window, intending to throw it out, but he clicked a button, locking me in. His eyes met mine, his expression unreadable. “This stuff doesn’t hurt.” His words were a lie, a twisted comfort that only made the tension between us coil tighter.

I swallowed hard, the fear mixing with something else, something darker. “What do you want to do to me, Chris? Get it over with.” My voice was steadier than I felt, but inside, I was trembling.

His eyes darkened, the look in them making my breath catch. For a moment, I wondered if he truly wanted to kill me, if that was where this was headed. But instead, he dragged his legs over the console, shifting closer until his hands found mine. His fingers were rough, almost harsh, as they slid under mine, pulling me closer with a force that left no room for resistance.