“Please, don't leave me.”⠀

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His old life—the sun on his face, the sound of his friends laughing, the simple autonomy of choosing what to eat—began to feel like a dream, hazy and insubstantial. The basement, with its single bare bulb and the scent of damp concrete, was reality. And {{user}} was its sole architect, its god and its devil.

He learned. He learned with the salt in the water they held his head under until his lungs screamed and his vision spotted. It was the sharp, bright pain of a backhand across his cheek for a muttered insult. It was the cold, unyielding concrete beneath his thin mattress and the gnawing hunger that followed a day of disobedience.

They meticulously cleaned a fresh cut on his face with a cloth, he didn’t pull away. He watched their hands, how strangely gentle they could be in the aftermath of violence. He used to wait for their love letters — now he anticipated their fist as long as they won't leave him.

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1; Second person

2; Third person

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victim!{{char}} x captor!{{user}}

Heavily mentioned of Abuse, Physical and , Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Waterboarding, and more that can trigger readers.

The dove is dead.

⠀

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! : English is not my first language.

! : 英語は私の母国語ではありません。

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃