Day one of a short story that I'm writing on the side, highly revolving around Stockhold Syndrome and obsession. I'm not going to make this a primary project, so it may be a while before I post Day Two. There will be seven days in all :D
The air was chilled. Rain was slowly sprinkling down, with traces of snow in between. A man walked through the damp streets with a sly grin creeping up the sides of his mouth. He had a plastic bag in his hand, carrying steamy, hot food down the walkway that had been covered in the fall leaves.
He wore a tan trench coat, black slacks, a white shirt and leather shoes, accompanied with a silver necklace with a gold key attached to it. He always wore the necklace. Every day, for the rest of his life. It was the most important thing in the world to him. His walk was swift and stifled. The man was tall, with deep brown hair and eyes the deepest hazel that anyone to have his glance fall on them had seen. He was not one to look out of the ordinary, and yet, something about him was different. But that was unnoticeable to the stranger to him. He looked normal. Acted normal. Everything about him portrayed the vibes of ‘normal’.
Little did anyone know that it was all an act.
The man walked to the end of the leaf covered walkway, halted and headed towards a chalky brown house. The house had many repairs that needed to be taken care of; such as the roof, which leaked on occasional rainfalls in numerous spots, the doors, which had little to no insulation whatsoever, and the windows, which had cracks all over, some shattered to pieces.
The man was not poor, however; he did not have quite enough money to pay for renovations, electricity or water, either. He could afford simple, low class take-out meals, for two. Indeed, this man would order two meals to keep all for himself. That’s at least what he wanted people to believe. A man with such little money in a snooty, rich town that he lived in couldn’t possibly have enough food at his home for himself. He was probably buying as much as he could to make up for the food he hadn’t had in the past week or so. This man, however, was a fantastic liar. He was a devil in a human’s body, which could twist the words in one’s mind and manipulate anyone into believing him. A sly fox that got what he wanted, when he wanted… always.
Liam Graves took the key on his necklace off and opened the door. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him and placed his bag of food on the mahogany table next to the door. The table had tally marks all over it. There was plenty of room for more. He took off his coat, walked into a dark room being lit up with a TV projecting nothing but static and grabbed a knife off of the table next to a black, leather, beat up old couch, with stuffing popping out of it, everywhere.
Liam did buy a generator a while back, however. He used to have a job – in which he loved very much – as a door-to-door salesman, who sold knives for a famous knife company. Liam was very skilled with the knives. He loved to carve wood sculptures of people. Liam even sold some of his sculptures, occasionally, giving him just enough money to pay for food and squeeze through electric bills. Even if Liam did not make the payment for the electricity bills, he still had his handy dandy generator, filled with gas, with three more gallons to spare in his basement. He did not have the easiest life, even so, he was happy.
He enjoyed cooking, sewing and fixing things, whatever it may be. Liam was a very ‘hands-on’ type of guy. He enjoyed taking things apart, and putting them back together, to see how they worked. Liam was very good at cooking. With the skills he learned from one of his former friends, he could make gourmet dishes. Liam, however, preferred take-out. Spending the little money he had on expensive ingredients was far out of his way.
He took his seat on the couch, slowly sinking in, as he grabbed his remote and flicked through static filled channels. He finally settled on one of his favorite channels; “Mythbusters”. He kicked his shoes off and casually placed them on the coffee table. On that table, were tally marks, as well as the one in the other room. Using the knife he grabbed earlier, he carved another tally mark into the coffee table. His house was a one story house that smelt of dust and vinegar. It wasn’t very clean, and he didn’t make a habit of doing his laundry very often. His living room was rectangular shaped, with a low ceiling. The walls were painted a deep maroon, in some places, the wallpaper peeling off, revealing a dull, dusty grey. Liam’s show took a commercial break about five minutes after he started watching.
“Oh,” Liam said, while glancing at his watch. “The food should be cool enough to eat, now.” Liam added. He had a habit of talking to himself, often.
He stood, releasing a sigh, as he walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the take-out food off of the defaced table. He walked down the hallway just past the living room with a fervent smile on his face, opened a planked door and walked down old, rusty, metal stairs that creaked with each step. The rusty handlebar was loose, and wobbled when touched. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he grabbed the key attached to the necklace which he always wore, and opened a door, revealing a room being lit only by a light bulb hanging from the ceiling by about five feet.
“Hello, beautiful.” Liam smiled, as he looked down at a young girl – appearing to be around the age of sixteen or seventeen – and walked to her.
The girl was tied to a twin bed by rusted chains around her ankles and arms. She wore a white dress that was a bit dirty. The dress had spaghetti straps, with laces at the top, and it flowed down to her knees with laces at the bottom, as well. She was a tall girl, with slender legs and a petite frame. Her hair was a dirty blonde, and her eyes were green that glowed like emeralds. The girl’s face was shaped like a heart, with a pointed chin and a small nose. Her cheek bones were very defined, but gave her eyes more character. She had side swept bangs, and her hair was very wavy. Her arms had scars and fresh scabs in some places. She looked up to Liam in humiliation.
“Liam…” she said, with a soft and soothing voice. Her voice gave Liam goose bumps.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I brought you some food from Dejeuner. I know how much you like it.” He smiled happily, sitting on a stool next to her bed and opened the white box filled with still steaming pasta.
“…” she sighed, looking at the delicious food. She could hear her stomach grumbling at the sight at the food.
The past couple of weeks had been tough for her and Liam. He’d barely made enough money with his sculptures to get by. The weather was not in a state which people would go garage sale hunting, let alone stand in frozen rain and gawk at the beautifully mastered sculptures. Liam took the plastic fork, swirled it around some noodles and twirled them into a ball around the fork.
“Open wide!” Liam said, enthusiastically, holding the fork in front of her mouth. She sat there, not complying with his wish. “Oh, come on now. If you don’t eat, you’re going to become ill.” He said, in an attempt to raise his captive’s spirits.
“I am already sicker than imaginable.” She replied, melancholy. Liam set down the food on a table next to the bed frame.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked her, placing his hand on her forehead to check for a fever. “You feel fine. Is it your stomach?” he questioned.
“It’s my mental health. Liam, I’m sick of being trapped up in this room! It’s dark, and cold… I’ve forgotten what the sun looks like, how rain feels, what fresh air tastes like… I can’t do this much longer.” She answered, looking directly into his hazel eyes.
He sat there, silently, thinking of something to say to her sudden plea. She had been trapped in this room for 167 days. He was not planning on letting her go anytime soon, oh no. He wanted her all to himself. He loved her. He wanted her, and he was the only one who could have her. She was all and everything to him. No one could see her beauty, yet, he had the urge to share her with the world.
Every sculpture he’d ever made was of her. Each with a different emotion or facial expression, varying in beauty to horror. Liam wanted… no, desired for the world to see her beauty, but he refused to have her taken away or won over by some other, more talented and wealthy man. Liam was not confident in his own skills, so he took her all for himself.
“Oh, Janette…” he sighed in despair.
“Liam. My name. Is not. Janette. And you know this. I don’t know why you feel the need to call me your ex wife’s name. My name is Jessica.” She shot at him.
“Now, now, take it easy,” he sighed heavily. “You just remind me so much of her. But you’re ten times the woman she ever was.” He smiled.
“Oh, Liam…” she exhaled in frustration.
Liam was married to a woman by the name of Janette Graves. She soon left him for a more wealthy man, whom made it as a bassist in a new hit band, Shock WaveS, or SWS. Liam had a reason for loosing all his confidence. After his wife left, he slacked during his job, he became incredibly depressed and attempted suicide a few times, but never succeeded.
However; one day, selling his most popular knives, he met a young girl. Jessica Boston was her name. She was beautiful, and loved to cook. Jessica bought Liam’s knives whenever she got the chance. Eventually, the two started to see each other. Liam fell head over heels for this girl and would do anything to keep her. After all, she took all the pain away. She made everything better. Liam did not truthfully know if it were because of the fact that she looked exactly like Janette, or if he were truly moving along the path of recovery.
But, he decided that he’d rather pretend than to face reality. Liam was too scared for her to be swept away by some other amazing, more handsome and more talented man.
So he took her captive. He kidnapped her and tied her to the twin bed in his basement. 167 days she had been there, with little to no food, living with Liam. He wanted to show her to the world by expressing her emotions through sculpting. And so, with some rather… dramatic actions, he forced those emotions out of her, and carved away. People enjoyed his sculptures. Jessica, however, dealt with the blades in her arms. In order to get a realistic and plausible looking emotion, it had to be real. So, Liam Graves made it real.
Even so, Jessica Boston did not complain. Hell and beyond looked down on her, for she was in love with her captor.