Let's Play A Game~

Stockholm Syndrome, Part 1 [SeaMexican]

Max was thrown into a pitch-black room. In addition to a few minor cuts and bruises, he had a nasty stab wound on his thigh.

His captor slammed the door shut. The lock slid into place with a loud click.

Max threw his body against the wooden surface. "Let me out of here, you sick fuck!"

There was a laugh. "Don't worry, I'll be riiight back~"

"ADAM!" Max shouted, banging his fist against the door. "GET BACK HERE AND FINISH WHAT YOU STARTED!"

There was no reply.

Leaning against the wall, the Mexican buried his head in his hands. 'Take deep breaths, Max. In, out. In, out. Calm down. Think.'

Okay. So...what could he do to get out of this mess? He was currently trapped in a closet with no way to defend himself from the insane killer that shoved him in here. He was also bleeding profusely and utterly exhausted from all of the running and fighting he had been doing.

Now that he thought about it, Max realized he was pretty screwed.

He could faintly hear Anthony begging for mercy. He shuddered. That was going to be him soon.

No, there had to be SOMETHING he could do! While Max was aware that he was only delaying the inevitable, he sure as hell wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Adam was going to come back. He was certain of it. The instant that door opened, he would...he would jump out and try to take Adam by surprise. Sure, it was a shitty plan. Sure, it was probably going to fail. But there was still that slim chance that it COULD work, so he had to try.

Slow, deliberate footsteps approached the closet.

"Now that all of the...problems have been dealt with, you can come out."

The door swung open. Max sprang blindly into the hallway, only to be greeted with a solid punch to the face. He staggered backwards, momentarily dazed by the blow. His legs were then swept out from under him, and he landed on the hardwood floor with a pained grunt

Adam planted a foot on Max's chest. There was blood splattered all over the front of the man's shirt. He had an amused expression on his face.

"Did you REALLY think you could catch me by surprise?"

The glare he received in reply told him that yes, yes he did.

The killer chuckled. "How cute."

Adam gazed at Max thoughtfully for a few moments, idly twirling his knife in his hands.

"I've been looking forward to this moment since the day I first saw you," he said. "Remember how much fun we had together?"

Max shuddered at the memory. He wouldn't be forgetting that night anytime soon.

Adam sighed over-dramatically. "Alas, the cops just HAD to show up and spoil our fun. I was SO disappointed when I had to cut my visit short.

But I must say, I was quite surprised when I woke up this morning. I didn't expect you to come crawling back to me so soon. AND you brought your friends over for playtime! You really shouldn't have," the man cooed.

"Go die in a fire, you sick fuck!" Max snarled.

Adam frowned. "There's no need for such foul language. We'll have to work on improving your manners. After you've settled in, of course."

"'Settled in?'" Max echoed, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Wait a second...

The blood drained from Max's face as realization dawned on him. "You're taking me back to your hideout."

Adam gave him an unnerving smile. "Of course I am. What else would I do with you?"

The Mexican started to protest.

"But-"

"No 'but's," Adam said sternly, placing the tip of his blade on Max's lips. "There is nothing you can do to change my mind. You are coming with me, end of discussion."

Adam took his foot off of the frightened man's chest.

"Get up," he ordered.

Max hastily got to his feet.

"Follow me, and don't try anything funny."

Before the knife-wielding man could finish his sentence, Max took off like a shot.

Adam had a maniacal look on his face as he watched him flee.

"So you want to play games, eh? Fine. I'm always in the mood for a riveting game of hide-and-seek."

Crazed laughter echoed throughout the hallways. "Ready or not, here I come!~"