Stockholm Syndrome

Chapter Two

"You never told me why you're doing this..." I managed to squeak out after an hour of driving in silence. I had my head leaned against the cold glass window, fogging up a small area just from my breathing. It took a few moments for the man- I still don't even know his name- to register that I had spoken, and reply.

"Ya know what a hitman is?" He spoke in a clear but not heavy Jersey accent, and a lump rose in my throat. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath through my nose. I definitely knew what a hitman was. They get paid to kill people. There must've been someone out there who hated my guts, I couldn't decipher who, though.

"Who hired you?" I thought for a moment. It couldn't have been my dad, no... I'm the only thing keeping him on his feet, surely he wouldn't do that... and he usually keeps me a secret from his clients, there were only a few that knew about me, from the times they would come to our apartment and get s**t-faced and/or tweaked out with my Dad on whatever drug they could get ahold of. I was always the one to make sure they were safe and gone by morning. I don't know why they'd want me dead.

"That information is confidential." He said blandly, his eyes never moving from the road, avoiding my gaze, just as I was avoiding his. I just really wanted to know- it's not like it mattered if I knew or not. He was gonna kill me anyway.

"What's the difference if I'm gonna be dead in an hour?" I shivered at my own words. I don't think it's settled in yet that these were the last moments of my life. The overall shock of what's going on was probably the only thing keeping me sane and calm.

"You've got a point." He admitted, gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going white for a moment. It was probably a stupid hitman rule that he wasn't allowed to give away the identity of the people who hired him. "McCracken. You know em'?" I thought for a moment. The name was familiar. That was my dad's most recent client if I'm correct.

"I think so." I sighed, opening my eyes again and sitting up straight. He was silent again and sent me a sideways glance before coughing uncomfortably and readjusting his grip on the wheel.

"You seem a little too comfortable." He observed.

"Well, it's not like I can do anything. May as well enjoy my last moments on earth." I replied nonchalantly, though deep down- and not even that deep- I was terrified.

He chewed his bottom lip softly, seemingly in thought, before releasing it from between his teeth and then letting out a heavy breath through his nose. "It doesn't seem like you're scared to die at all." He paused, and swallowed. "do you want to die?"

The words hit me hard. I just sat still and looked away slightly, fiddling with my thumbs. I didn't even know the answer. I don't exactly want to die, but I was never really living in the first place. I just stayed silent.

"I see." He said in a low voice, his jaw slack as he continued down the road. The rest of the drive was spent sitting in silence, yet the noise of my mind was deafening. I had no idea where he was even taking me, and why I wasn't dead yet. Don't you usually kill the person and then transport the body? Either way, we'd been driving long enough for the sun to start rising above the horizon. It was already dawn by the time we had stopped. We were parked on the side of the highway next to a forest, and the guy was just sitting still with his hands on the steering wheel, and he looked like he was thinking.

My anxiety was quickly rising, as what was taking place in the next few moments started finally sinking in. Was it gonna hurt? Was it gonna be slow and painful or was it gonna be quick like he promised? Was he gonna use his knife or does he have a gun somewhere? I was going to die... not even that, but I was about to become a victim of f*****g murder. My throat was aching, and I felt tears pricking my eyes but I wasn't going to cry. No, it wouldn't solve anything.

He sat for a while, just staring. Eventually, he looked up at me, sighed, and looked back down at his lap. He pulled the knife out of his waistband, pressing the tip against his finger and twirling it a few times in thought and boredom. The seemingly insignificant action had caused my blood to boil, the suspense alone driving me insane

"A-are you... are you gonna do it?" I choked out, my voice cracking, not able to bring my eyes to meet his.

He let out a heavy sigh and brought a hand up to card through his long raven hair, pushing it somewhat out of his face. "It's too light out. People are gonna see an empty car on the side of the road and get curious." He said, placing his knife on the dash and raising his hands up to massage his temples. "We'll have to wait 'til night again." It felt like I had just won the lottery, relief flooding over me. The fact that my lottery money was just gets taken away at the end of the day just motivated me to spend it all today. I was gonna clear my mind and make sure I've counted all of my blessings, even though I never really had many anyway. Today was my last day alive and I wasn't gonna let it be overrun with anxiety and fear.

"and until then?"

"I don't know. I didn't have a lot of time to plan."

***************

We were on the highway again, the sun was setting just below the horizon. It was winter so the sunset pretty early, and it was already about 7pm. It would be dark by 9 for sure.

The day was spent just driving. He'd drive for a while, then park and sit for a few hours on his phone. Then he'd repeat. We shared very few words. I thought about bailing out of the car a few times, but that would've required reaching over the hitman to unlock the passenger door. That didn't seem very safe as his knife was sitting right there where he could grab it and stab me. I thought about that too, I could grab the knife and drive it into his leg and then make a run for it, but we were in the middle of nowhere along a large stretch of road. I'd be running for miles and nobody takes hitchhikers these days. My other option was to wait for him to doze off and call the cops with his phone, but apparently, the fucker never sleeps. I even caught a few Z's during our trip which was quite foolish, to be honest.

I thought a lot about my life today too, I had achieved counting my blessings within the first hour of driving, and the rest was just left for me to think about stuff. Memories, milestones, and my past. And in that time, I realized that I really didn't have anything to hold on to, nothing to look forward to, no one to miss me, and nothing to live for. I never really had friends, and it was basically just me and my dad since I was born. I guess you could erase 'clearing my mind' from my to-do list.

"Hey," I spoke up, staring at the trees whirring past us on the sides of the gravel road. He mumbled in response, waiting for me to continue.

"You got a name?" Just calling him 'the guy' was kind of weird to me. He paused, then clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"Why should I tell you?"

"Well you know my name, I just thought it'd be fair if I knew yours." I reasoned. He just cleared his throat and remained quiet. He wasn't gonna tell me, was he. Whatever, it didn't matter anyway. I sighed and stared out the window, again surrounded by silence.

"Call me Zero." I heard a small voice beside me, and I turned to look at him. It wasn't his real name, I knew that. Of course, he wasn't gonna give me his real name. It was better than calling him 'the guy' I guess.

"Zero," I repeated, testing it out. "Okay, Zero." He looked a little uncomfortable, as the name rolled off my tongue, a little too personal for him.

"Why do you care so much if I know your name?" I asked.

"Don't really wanna be on a first name basis with someone I have to kill. I shouldn't even be talking to you right now." He admitted, letting out a low chuckle. "I have my reasons, trust me."

I think the main thing that bothered him was that usually he would just off someone and it would be easy because he didn't know them, he didn't have an opinion about them, all he heard were stories from his clients about how horrible they were. He never talked to these people, he didn't care about these people, and that's what made it so easy to do what he does. I could use this... I just decided to play along, for now, keeping this new thought process in mind. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Wouldn't wanna kill someone you grow fond of. As if you even have feelings."

"I'm not a psychopath."

"Then why do you kill people? There's gotta be something wrong with you." I know people. I know how to make people talk, and If I could get him to vent a bit, he'd like me. He would develop at least some kind of bond with me. That's the main goal, for him to like me enough to not want to kill me. I mean I wasn't trying to get him to be my best friend, all I needed was for him to at least have an opinion of me and know that I'm a real person with a life.

"It's for the bodies I claim, kid. Lives are so fragile. And having control over something like that just gives me a rush. Ye'know? Everyone has something that does that for them." He explained, and I smirked a little at the fact that he was talking. I hid my smile and pulled a blank face.

"But... How do you hide? I mean like... From your friends? And family? They obviously don't know what you do if you're not in jail."

"I don't have friends or family." He said firmly. Perfect, he was lonely. I could use that against him.

"Doesn't it get lonely? Everyone needs someone to keep them company from time to time." My question was followed by silence.

I looked up at him and a sly smile had crept onto his lips, bringing one corner up into a half smirk. He shook his head and gave me a sarcastic look.

"I know what you're doing."

"What?" I asked in a voice mocking confusion. It was a shame that we thought the same.

"I can't form an opinion of you. Just, stop talking okay? Stop." He spoke seriously. He seemed almost desperate. He knew what I was doing and it just might have been working, even only a little.

"I don't know wh-"

"Shut up, Frankie." He spoke aggressively this time, giving me a glare. I shied away slightly and stared at him with wide eyes. His glare softened and he looked away again. It seemed like anger was starting to seep from his pores, and I was getting really freaked out. There I go, pissing off a hitman.

"Let's go." He said in a low voice, he seemed really pissed off now all of a sudden. I didn't know exactly what he meant, but my suspicions were confirmed when he snatched up the large knife an swung the car door open.

I swallowed heavily and took a few deep breaths before I curled my fingers around the door handle and reluctantly pushed it open. I sat for a moment before forcing myself out of the car. My thoughts were running at a mile a minute, and my heart wasn't too far behind. He'd already stalked off towards the woods by now, and I could see his figure getting further away.

I looked around me. The car was parked on the side of a dirt road, and there was nothing but trees for miles. I could see my foggy breath in the cold air, and it was relatively dark out. It would be easy to book it into the woods and hide. It was a pretty thick forest and you couldn't really see in this dark either way.

I looked back at Zero, who was now turned to face me, standing at the edge of the woods, long black hair blowing in the breeze along with his clothes.

"C'mon. Let's just get this over with." He spoke, leaning against a tree. I looked from him to the wide expanse of forest, then back to him again. I was gonna do it. I could escape.