sᴛᴏᴄᴋʜᴏʟᴍ sʏɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇ | ˢᵒˡᵇʸ ✔

0.03

COLBY'S POV

I walked down the road around 10:00pm, the dark sky illuminated by the yellow street lights, you couldn't see the stars from the light that covered the sky preventing anything apart from the dull black we called the sky.
A police car pulled up beside me,
"Are you Colby Brock?" The officer asked, he was young, blond hair, blue eyes,
"Yes" I replied skeptically,
"Get in, your parents asked me to come get you" the officer spoke, I immediately got in the car without a second thought. We drove, drove out of town,
"Hey, you uh, you passed my house" I say nervously scratching the back of my neck,
"I know", immediately tried to excape but the doors were locked and no one was around in my small town let alone the abandoned roads that lead to do it, I let out a sharp whimper, but before I could do anything he slammed my head into the deck three times, knocking me out cleanly.

I woke up with a stinging pain in my head, it felt a little sticky, I touched it, not surprised when the murky red substance appeared on my fingers, it was clotted, that was good, it was healing, I checked any signs for concussion, luckily nothing, which I was grateful for.
I soon looked at my surroundings, I was in a cage, in a dark basement, there was a mattress, blanket and a pillow, that was it. He had taken everything from my pockets, all I have we're my clothes, he took away my shoes too. It was cold and I felt dizzy, I wanted to go home. But I knew deep down that that wouldn't happen.

This was obviously a well thought over plan, I was always causious even as a child, I knew something was wrong, but I can't change it now, all I can do is survive. So that means, no eye contact, avoid talking, don't freak out seem calm, don't go crazy, don't try and fight them, they are stronger your a target for a reason, if they attack blind them, claw eyes, go for the 'soft' parts, don't stop, go for the throat, don't ask for anything, don't ask questions, have sense of time, never be distracted, don't trust them, and stay alive.

I didn't know what his intentions were but I had a feeling I would know soon, I didn't cry, didn't want to show weakness, never show emotion I was always told. After doing a lot of research I knew about all of this stuff, I knew what to do, I knew it would come in handy one day, it's ironic really, I spent most my life researching killers, asking questions and here I am, in a possible serial killers den.

And I knew that no one would find me, this was a well thought out plan, see psychopaths tend to be smart, highly intelligent, this isn't your everyday kidnapping, he'd done this multiple times before. You can tell by how calm he was, he didn't have dialated pupils or any sign of anxiety, or adrenaline, and this was built, a long time ago, you can tell by the rusting on the cage, the cracks on the walls that had slight decay, and the wooden stairs that had sign of wreckage and decay or maybe slight rot, but I was too far away to tell. There were six cages all the same size as mine, lining the sides, I was the only one here, making me feel more isolated.