Chapter 22. Stockholm Syndrome

I awoke in a purple bedroom.

And of course,

-the door was locked.

I couldn’t believe I was dumb enough to let myself get imprisoned in an evil vampire’s house. First, my ex-roommate had moved back in with Count Straud, and when I foolishly went after him, I got captured as well.

I paced the room anxiously, watching the rising sun hit the treetops in the distance. I would probably die here, wouldn’t I? And what about my ex-roommate? Zell looked liked he was in worse shape than me.

The door creaked open as if to answer my thoughts.

It was Zell, pale and haggard, with a plate of food. He opened his mouth, trying hard to say something, but the words weren’t forming.

“Benji… I… sorry… I can’t… the Count… I…” he stammered. Even though he was concentrating as hard as he could, his thoughts were totally muddled.

“Hey, it’s ok,” I said, finally understanding. “There’s something’s wrong with you, isn’t there? Is the Count doing this to you?” Zell gave a faltering nod.

“So, the Count’s using his vampire powers to control you.” I gave a wry chuckle. “I guess we’re both trapped by him, aren’t we?”

Zell gestured meekly at the plate of food he brought. “…eat,” he managed to say.

A thought occurred to me. “Wait, when was the last time you ate?”

“Ah,” Zell exhaled. “Months…”

“You don’t have any plasma?” I asked, but Zell shook his head. “Of course not, the Count only drinks fresh blood. He hasn’t given you any Sims to drink from?”

“Yes… but,” Zell’s brow furrowed. “… I made… promised.. because of you… I wouldn’t… hurt…”

I groaned, pacing the room. I didn’t know what I could do to help him. “Ok, Zell, what about your mystery drink that was supposed to solve everything?” I asked desperately. “Could you make it again?”

He frowned, then shook his head. “Can’t… remember… recipe…”

“Zell, you’re literally turning to dust!” I shouted at him, anguish washing over me. It was destroying me to see him like this, like he could blow away into the wind any second. “We have to do something! You have to drink something!”

“No,” Zell said again, more firmly. “No more hurting.”

He left before I could say anything else, the door locking shut behind him.

I sat alone on the bed, barely touching my food, and cried.

Then I wiped my tears, took out my phone, and texted my dad.

Hey Dad, I’m traveling for a little bit, but I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I love you.

I hesitated, then added, Tell Mom I love her too.

I took a deep breath. I had never thought about what I would do when I met my maker, but it seemed like now was the time to start.

3 thoughts on “Chapter 22. Stockholm Syndrome

  1. I STAN THIS BEDROOM. But what’s the little window, what’s the little window?

    It does look better from the outside; the window. Not the room. This is almost enough purple for a room to have.

    Oh, also Benji is alive. For now. Props to Benji!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That text message home at the end! Ouch! Everything is falling apart, but he has the tendency to contact his parents in hopes that they won’t worry.

    Liked by 1 person

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