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Thread: [M] Stockholm Syndrome (NoviDome x Larson and zoe)

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    His eyes went wide with shock and his instincts kicked in. He pulled the knife back and hit her over the head with the handle, drawing blood and knocking her out cold. He grunted and put his knife away as she collapsed onto the cold ground.

    When she woke up, she was in a cheap-looking motel room. It was small and poorly lit, but clean enough. She was lying on her back on one of two single beds, and her hands and feet were tied to the bed frame. The curtains were drawn and there was a small desk at the foot of the bed, supporting a tiny tv and an electric kettle. The light in the bathroom was on and she could hear water running.

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    Of course when she had woken up she had a headache. She had no idea she was tied to a bed until she tried to move. She suddenly remembered everything and started to gasp for air.

    "Oh shit...." She cried and tried her best to yank away before she let out a yell of pain. "Ow! Son of a bitch!" She cried and closed her eyes tightly. "Please dude! Help me!"

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    The water in the bathroom abruptly turned off and Jim marched into the room, his knife in hand. "Quiet!" he hissed at her. "I won't hesitate to tape your mouth shut if you can't listen!"

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    Bayleigh froze up and looked at him. "Please it hurts!" She cried and then tried to move her arms. "What do you want with me? You are a very sick man, you know that right?" She asked him slowly.

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    "Yeah. I'm aware! Thanks for the heads-up!" he snapped. He pinched the bridge of his nose to calm himself down and took a deep breath. He had to keep it together. "...Where does it hurt?" he asked reluctantly.

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    She looked at him then up at her wrist. "Its hurting on my right wrist." She said and then started to sigh. "Why did you get rid of that man's body? Did you kill him?" She asked him slowly. She was actually a nurse that helped very mentally ill people and he seemed to be just that.

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    "Shut up," he muttered as he reached over to her right hand. He loosened the rope there ever so slightly. They were probably going to be here a while, so he might as well make her relatively comfortable. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and frowned when he saw he had no new calls or messages. Then he went over to the window and parted the curtains a tiny bit to check outside. The world was now slowly waking up, and the sun was about to rise.

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    She nodded her head and then tried to calm herself down, but how could she when she was being held hostage by a very ill man. She started to cry just loud enough for him to hear. Of course she didn't want to cry and was tired of it, but there was nothing else she could do. "I want to go home...."

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    "That makes two of us," Jim muttered as he peered outside. Once he was satisfied they were alone, he closed the curtains again. He'd been trying to reach his friends all night, but to no avail. Either their phones were dead, or... He shook his head and ran his hands through his hair again, tangling his fingers into the strands. His knuckles had stopped bleeding, but they still looked awful. He needed to think. He needed to get out of this alive, but he had nothing. Just... this girl.

    He looked over at her and sat down in one of the motel chairs, making a steeple with his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. "...Are your parents rich? Or your brother?"

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    She frowned and looked at him before she had an idea. She needed to quit crying like a baby and use her work skills. Of course none of her mentally ill patients had kidnapped her before. Plus her job had cops like everywhere.

    "What makes you think that I'm not the rich one?" She asked him calmly and slowly got her crying to stop. "What makes you think I'm even from here?" She asked him again to try to get his brain thinking. It almost always worked with her job. If someone started to lose their ever loving mind she would start to ask them other types of questions.

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