Stay, Forever

3

There's no windows in the room where George is being kept, and so there's no way for him to know how long he's been there or what time of day it is. He tries to track the time, but it's difficult with no glimpse of the outside world. There's only him, the unnerving silence, and an ever-growing fear that's settled somewhere just below his sternum.

He knows that at least a few hours have passed. He can tell by the gnawing hunger that's just beginning to claw at his stomach. It's been a while since he's had a proper meal or a drink of water. It's been a while since he's even attempted to move from the bed that's shoved into the corner of the tiny room.

The most he's done is curl up on his side to face the chipped paint of the wall. The unsettling mask is still lying on the floor, and George is desperate to avoid looking at it. He knows it's just plaster and paint, but it feels so much like an extension of the man who left it behind. It almost feels like it's alive, watching everything he does and keeping him pinned down exactly where he is. But with his back turned to it, he feels like he can breath just a tiny bit easier. He tries to ignore the looming presence of it, and instead, he focuses on Karl.

Karl, his loyal and loving best friend.

Karl, who he knows is probably worried sick about him.

Karl, who he probably has hundreds of messages and missed calls from.

He feels guilty in a way, even if it's not completely his fault. Karl has always warned him about talking to strangers in bars, and George has always promised him he'll be more careful. But he never really listens, and so maybe this was always bound to happen.

George knows he's too careless, and he knows that he should have listened. He should have taken Karl's words more seriously, should've learned how to be content. But now it's too late, and now he's stuck in some dimly lit room while something terrifyingly unknown looms before him. And he knows that Karl is probably so worried about him, and he doesn't want Karl to be worried about him. Not when he can't do anything to fix the situation he's in.

His head spins, and tears sting his eyes for what feels like the hundredth time since he's woken up. He tries to piece together all the fuzzy parts of the night before, and when he really tries, he can picture Karl sitting at the bar. There's a smile on his face, and he's gazing up at a man with dark hair and a friendly face. And it's so unlike Karl to engage in random conversations with people he doesn't know, but George hopes that his night was contrastingly different to how George's night was.

He's so focused on Karl that he barely notices when the door to the room slowly creaks open. But he hears the heavy footsteps, and fear creeps slowly up his spine because he can feel someone watching him from across the room. He pushes himself up, and with a slow exhale, he turns, expecting to see the same face that's been haunting him since last night.

Dark eyes widen when he's greeted with the last sight that he expects. Because standing in the doorway is the same man that was talking to Karl just last night. Only now, his face is anything but friendly. His dark hair is falling into his eyes, but even so, George can see the familiar coldness behind them. It makes his skin crawl, and his breath catches as the man wordlessly steps into the room.

It takes a moment for George's eyes to catch on the man's hands, and he sees that he's carrying a glass of water and a plate with a sandwich on it. He sets it down on the small table beside the bed, and George barely even glances at it. His stomach twists in on itself, and his eyes slowly lift as he quietly asks, "who are you?"

He doesn't expect an answer, and he's surprised when the man mutters, "my name is Sapnap."

The name doesn't ring familiar to George, but he's certain that he's the same man who was with Karl last night. And so he quietly responds, "I saw you...last night. You were talking to my friend-"