Stockholm Syndrome? ✔

S.S 6

Felix's POV

It didn't take much to keep the boy steady. His struggles weren't enough to release my strong hold on him. That he had time to struggle told me was feistier than I had anticipated. He potentially knew what was on the cloth covering his nose.

Chloroform only took seconds after inhalation to knock someone out. It had taken the boy longer, telling me he resisted taking a breath. But he'd eventually taken a huge one. I'd felt his abdomen rise as oxygen flooded his lungs. Sadly for him, oxygen wasn't the only gas that flooded his lungs.

He relaxed against me shortly. Now that he wasn't supporting his own weight, he was heavy against me. The chloroform had totally knocked him out.

I turned him around, supporting him while I opened the back passenger door. I looked around briefly, making sure no one was watching. I dragged the boy into the car, placing him haphazardly on the seat.

I retrieved a few items from the trunk. I was anxious to make my getaway, but I couldn't do it with the boy out on chloroform alone. Chloroform, as good as it was, wasn't long-term. It couldn't even be described as short-term. Its effects didn't last without continuous use.

I got into the driver's seat and locked the car. Leaning over the back, I pulled the boy's arm from underneath him. I located a medication vial from the things I had taken out of the trunk, all thrown onto the front passenger seat. Ripping out the wrapping around an injection needle I'd brought with me, I filled the syringe with just enough sedative to knock the boy out through the drive to my house.

His arm was limp in my hand, making locating his vein a lot easier. I pushed the needle through and drained the syringe.

If I did my last-minute calculations right, he wouldn't be up and about in about an hour. That was enough to get to the house and properly secure him. But to keep to the time constraints, I had to get moving.

The drive to my house was shorter than expected. I kept to the limits to avoid traffic cops, but there was no traffic, which made things easier. I lived on almost the edge of town. The area was secluded, and my "neighbor" couldn't be located for quite a distance. It was the ideal place for me. I had fallen in love with not just its beauty, but its location too.

I hated that it wasn't fenced, but I had never gotten round to changing that. Plans to build high-walls around it were in the back of my head. The area was already secure, hard to get in and just as hard to get out.

A few seconds after parking the car in my massive garage, I looked at my companion. He was still completely out; to the point where he almost fell off the seat when I made a sudden stop as we waited for the garage door to open. I'd forgotten to open the door in time, requiring me to stop abruptly.

The garage door closed. The securing sound it made echoed in the room before another sound joined in, this one lasting longer. It was the sound of music coming from what I presumed was the boy's phone.

The boy didn't stir. I let the phone ring until it stopped. Reaching in the back, I emptied the boy's pocket of the phone, switching it off. Only switching it off wasn't going to do though. I had to make it untraceable, and I knew just how to do that.

The boy was heavier than a sack of potatoes. Okay, he was heavier than sacks of potatoes. It wasn't something I couldn't handle though. I'd run with logs in Russia. I managed to get him out of the car and into the house. Though his weight was taking a toll on me, I couldn't stop.

I carried him bridal style to the house's basement, stopping only to unlock the code-operated door. The basement wasn't cold, dark and dingy. It was actually nice and cozy. It consisted of a wooden floor, which made it smell strongly of wood. There was a chair at the fair end. There were also several objects in the room, including an old television set.