Stockholm Syndrome

Darkness

Darkness. Pain. So much pain. Tears soak face. A knife. Light gleams on the blade. Blood drips. Drags through flesh. Screams tear free. Crazed laughter bounces off the walls. Is it mine? Pain wracks insides. Dim lights show surgeon masks and glimmering eyes above me. Needles. Clatter of metal apparatus; dirty blades stained with fresh blood. Syringes stabbed into my skin. Burning liquid racing through me; blood singes inside of skin. Agony. Fury. Another knife. Reaching for it. Scalpel tears through neck. Blood splatters, soaking skin. Fingers wrap round metal handle. Bolt upright; stab. Surgeon scream. Grin; stab deeper; twist. Eyes open and laughter echoes away.

The man sat up, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. His wild eyes darted round the dark room, crimson iris' glowing in the blackness. Footsteps reach his ears. His head snaps round, his teeth gritted and fists clenching. "Gonna kill...h-hear screams." He grinned and laughed maniacally, eyes rolling in his head as he grabbed the knife on his bedside as the door was opened and his master stood framed in the doorway. "Subject 304; so nice to see you're awake." The man grimaced, his grip on the knife hilt tightening as he twitched spasmodically. "Y-you hurt me. Y-You kill mind." He grinned again, a wild screech of laughter throwing itself out of him. The master regarded him cooly. "If you say so Subject. But today is the day. You know what day it is?" Subject raised his head, eye twitching and teeth bared, his hand gripping the knife so tight his knuckles were bone white. "Take and kidnap." He hissed. "Hurt. Screams..." His eyes changed and he lowered his gaze, a tear trickling down his face as he bit his lip. "Knives and scalpels." He shuddered, a strangled sob escaping him. "So much pain..." The master grinned. "Not for you; unless you don't cooperate again." Subject stiffened, hunching his shoulders, a primeval snarl tearing free from him. "N-NO KNIVES!" The master stepped back as Subject bolted up, shaking, pupils shrinking in his demented eyes as he started panting, head tilting to one side as he laughed crazily, running forward and throwing the master up against the wall, knife against his throat. He screamed, eyes narrowed. "NO KNIVES! NOT AGAIN! N-NEVER, T-THE PAIN!" The master started, his sanity spiralling away as he stared into his creations crooked eyes. "SUBJECT 304! How dare you speak to me like this!" He kicked Subject and he went down on one knee. The master pushed him onto his back and his eyes twitched, his whole face contorting as his emotions changed faster than slots in a cherry machine. Then, he was staring up at his master in terror, his body rigid. The master grinned, twisting the knife viciously from Subject's grip and kicking him in the ribs while he was down. Subject whimpered, tears of pain pricking at his crooked eyes. The master looked down at him in disdain. "You're worthless Subject, a pitiful excuse for an experiment gone wrong. Your eyes are hideous, if it wasn't for them you'd be everything we were hoping for. Now you're nothing." He tossed the knife to the ground, spinning on his heel and pausing in the doorway as Subject's face crumpled, tears streaming from his 'hideous' eyes. "Meet me at the lab in half an hour. It's time to move into the first phase of our plan." With that he left, slamming the door behind him and leaving his crazed experiment alone in the dark once more to suffer.

Subject doesn't like name. Rosemary says Derp. I am a Derp SSundee. That's w h o I am. Not S u b j e c t . Ribs hurt. More pain. More tears.

He hid his face in his hands.

Hideous eyes. I am n o t h i n g . Nothing.

Prepare to enter the twisted world of Stockholm Syndrome, a place so crazed it's possible to fall in love with the most insane and violent of captors. Because no matter how scarred someone is, if you learn to love them, you can heal their past.