Kidnapped (CH:23)

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CHAPTER 23:

When Henrikas arrived, it was due to the persistent pounding in his head. That, and the uncomfortable ties at her wrists and ankles that had also been digging into the layer of clothing she was wearing, which in turn, caused the skin underneath her to become extremely itchy.

He didn't try to move, instead, he observed his surroundings. It was dark and stuffy and cramped. The light just there was helping him see a little better, but the end result had worsened Henrikas's anxiety when he noticed that the walls were closed around him like a closed coffin. That particular thought had put her heart beating eagerly under her ribs, loud and clear.

"No," he tried to calm the nervous agitation, shaking off his paranoia, "this is just an illusion."

The place where he was pushed was small, he decided. It was the slight claustrophobia in him that was restless. I thought the weakness in him would scream for attention when he was currently in a dire situation.

"I'm inside a closet? He thought cautiously before dismissing the idea. 'A closet can't move, can it?'

The soft hum of the engine, the movements, the knocking sensations - they were all familiar, it was like when he was driving Hannibal's car. But he wasn't in a car, was he? A car was too small to fit in something like a closet

Unless this isn't a closet? he thought without thinking. 'A trunk...? But the walls seem to be made of wood.

And as far as he knew, the cars weren't made of wood. So was it inside something bigger than a car?

Apprehension peaked at the plausible guess, she briefly wondered how she got to the place when the last thing she remembered was talking to a boy.

'Ah,' he thought absently when the final puzzle was finally pieced together, 'and then another kid came along.'

"Excuse me," Henrikas said after the boy finished washing his hand, curious. "Aren't you the missing child?"

The boy was so startled that his whole body shook, shook. The brown eyes widened comically until Henrikas could see his two black pupils staring at him in disbelief. He swallowed audibly, Adam's little apple bobbing up and down.

"Chris, right?" Henrikas continued: "Chris O'Halloran?"

The boy, Chris, gave the slightest hint of assent, "H-how do you know me?"

"I saw your face in a milk carton."

Chris blinked, looking at him strangely, as if Henrikas had just spoken in a different language. "Hey?"

"He listed you as a missing person," Henrikas explained and took a step forward toward the boy. To Henrikas's amusement, the boy took another step back. "Are you?"

It was strange, Henrikas thought. In most cases of kidnapping, it ended because the kidnappers didn't let the kidnapped wander alone, in which they would likely lock them up, as the Potters had, so that others couldn't find them. Or kill the kidnapped instead. Chris was neither dead nor held in his abductor's prison.

Henrikas had never seen a situation in which the kidnapper trusted the person they had kidnapped to return to them. It was both strange and interesting.

"Wait, I think I read about this somewhere before," Henrikas mused silently, "It starts with S, I think ... Stockholm syndrome?"

Stockholm Syndrome - The psychological tendency of a hostage to bond with, identify with or sympathize with his captor, his mind was helpful.

Henrikas thought it was disgusting. He would never sympathize with the Potters after what they had done to him. But had this boy, this Chris O'Halloran, somehow bonded with his captor? How did that happen?

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