Stockholm Syndrome (Jalex)

Day Two

Hello:) Hope you guys like this chapter, I even researched mildly illegal drugs for this and my parents will probably think I'm insane, but yolo ok?;)

Alex - Day Two. 1:56

I almost felt guilty.

Almost.

The blood, the struggling, the pleas and the subdue as his drugged state collapsed into my arms. He was safe now; he was mine. A grin spread across my features as I locked the door behind him. He was pretty scrawny so one lock ought to contain him perfectly. He'd have to earn it, earn privileges, and earn me. This time I was going to play hard to get. The fun of the chase ended too soon otherwise and then I'd get bored, but I didn't ever want to get bored of Jack Barakat.

His dark eyes and streaked hair. That grin, that innocence. He'd be perfectly submissive when the time came. I just had to make him want me first. Like a strip tease, just with an awful lot more danger. Russian roulette was a great game to play, especially if the gun was fully loaded. He'd whimper, he cry, then his heart would give out and blood would flow across the polished marble flooring- It made me excited just thinking about it.

There was of course the rather irritating issue of getting caught. Despite the fact Joe Barakat was nothing more than a mere acquaintance, I knew he wouldn't press the issue of Jack's disappearance; in fact, I may have even done him a favour. I grinned: I liked it when my work was appreciated. And it was all so much easier to play, so much more fun; no one would really miss Jack Barakat, now would they?

Of course there was the law; at least one dumbstruck loser at school would take notice of the empty seat in front of him. He'd grow warier day by day as the seat remained empty and Jack Barakat remained mine and he'd eventually try to kick up a fuss, go down to the station, maybe? The police, however, were stupid. I'd killed six people before, so why not a seventh? And as much as I liked Jack Barakat, the prized, polished trophy on my blood stained mantle, I was Alex Gaskarth and there was no other way that this was going to end.

People were so much easier to keep when they weren't alive.

I grabbed a soda from my fridge and downed it in one. My eyes drifted to the unopened six pack of Budweiser taunting me from the shelf. I craved it, but no; I couldn't be intoxicated at a time like this. Despite my previous conclusions, I was not stupid and certainly wouldn't dismiss any possibility; who knows, his father may work for the F.B.I., I hadn't done an extensive amount of research. I preferred to interview my clients first hand, whether it is by torture or faked empathy I'd get them to spill and that's when things got so much more interesting, because I knew their weak spots and then I was in total control.

I was the one who fired the shots here and in a quite literal sense too.

Jack - 8:45

It was dark, dark enough for the thought of my eyes being gowdged out to cross my mind. Or maybe I was just blind, or maybe it was just dark. Maybe even a combination of the above,  I don't know.

I felt like I ought to be more scared; a thought tugging at the back of mind in a way I couldn't quite understand. The fact that I'd blacked out and couldn't remember anything since talking to that guy probably contributed greatly to this. What was the guy's name? Alex, yes! His name was Alex.

Then it hit me. Oh my god, I'd been drugged. My first reaction was to hold up three fingers to see if I was high or something, but then my inability to see came back to bite me in the butt.

I considered shouting out but concluded that the risks outweighed the pros and I was better just sitting here until something happened, despite the fact that it felt like nothing would ever happen at all. Maybe I was dead, maybe that wouldn't be so bad and I began to concern myself with how many people would attend my funeral so much that I didn't notice the door unlock and slowly creak open.

"Hello Jack." I looked up in panic to see light streaming in from outside the room, illuminating the figure in almost Godly manner.

"H-hello..." I stammered out, not knowing what else to say. The figure flipped a switch and light filled the room and I squinted, my eyes which were thankfully unharmed, unused to any light from being in this room for God knows how long. Then I focused on the figure and everything collapsed, because I recognised the guy - it was Alex. "Alex-" I stammered out.

"Good, you can remember me," he grinned wildly at me, "I was beginning to think I had given you too much Rohypnol, I should've counted out the dose precisely, but then again you weren't a planned target, Jack and it depends per person how much is need to work sufficiently and of course I wanted you out quick so I had to take a slight overdose risk there, but you're fine now-"

"Rohypnol." I repeated, the words not quite sinking in. "That's the date rape drug." Alex nodded expressionlessly. "So is that what's happening? Raping me?" He laughed.

"You're underestimating me, Jacky. I was going more down the kidnap route." I gulped. I was being kidnapped... by an incredibly hot guy? How is that even relevant; it's still bloody kidnap and he's still bloody mental! I groaned: why was this happening?

Why are all the hot ones clinically insane?

I began to remember my crush on Jared who collected skulls and dead animals in seventh grade. He was weird to put it lightly, but he had a really nice smile, it was infectious, more infectious than half the shit he carried around in his backpack on a daily basis even. Then there was Robin in ninth grade with the obsession with eyeliner and black metal... and murder. He talked in a thick accent and explained in great detail how to hide a body without getting caught, but he was so short and thin and cute looking it was hard to take him seriously. Had I justified murderous thoughts on the basis of being cute?

I began to think I had some sort of fetish.