Stockholm Syndrome - A Harry Styles Fic

Harry had no idea where he was. He had woken a few hours previous with what felt like the biggest hangover in the world. In addition to his bad luck he was also blindfolded, gagged and tied to an old barren wooden chair that sat facing the wall.

Unbeknownst to him, a shadow sat silently in the corner, their face masked by a veil of darkness that was hidden beneath the dimness, a place in the room the light never reached and she could attest to that from her own experience in the very same basement long ago.

Without another word she stood up and went towards Harry, her body moving easily - almost cat like, towards the boy who was struggling to escape his uncomfortable bonds.

"Good morning Harry, sleep well?" Her voice a whisper of cold silkiness that made Harry's stomach churn. He gulped and made a half attempt to get his vocal cords to clear the dryness that had been parching his throat since he woke up but fell short after the words wouldn't form around the thick material that had been slipped between his teeth and tied when he was still unconscious.

"I'm sorry that these accommodations aren't exactly five star but you'll get used to it," She promised in a stoically sarcastic voice, lifting her hand to trace the ropes that help the man in front of her captive before giving his bindings a vicious tug to tighten them further, this caused Harry to cry out. "I'd get comfortable in that chair if I were you Harry because you're going to be here for a very long time."

Harry styles had no idea why he was there but the words that came from her mouth were spiked with jagged points and it pierced his subconscious like a sharp knife. His muscles tensed against the restraints and his mind went into overdrive. He had to escape but the deep sinking feeling of doom spread over him like an ice soaked blanket. Where was he? What did this girl want from him?

“Hmfh.” He tried, swallowing again before repeating the sound. He hoped it was an indication that he needed the gag out, his whole body was painfully sore and his arms were going numb from being tied behind the chair for so long.

The girl turned her head ever so slightly in amusement, her hands going to the back of his gag but instead of loosening it as Harry had hoped, she made sure to tighten it enough that it choked him when he swallowed.

Harry jerked his head forward in surprise but mostly to get the evil woman’s hands away from him.
She wasn’t to be deterred that easily. With brutal strength she grabbed the ringlets of his brown locks and jerked his head upward. Once she knew he wasn’t going to head-butt her, she brought her lips to the tip of his earlobe and spoke, her voice a whisper but no less harsh.

“Let’s get one thing straight shall we? You’re here for one simple reason. You’re here because the organization wants you to be. I’m here to make sure the organization gets what it wants. I oversee the who’s, what’s, when’s, where’s, why’s and how’s. You and your freedom are mine and the only thing you have permission to do right now is sit in that chair and piss in it.” She finished with a vicious growl, pushing his chair from the back so it tipped forward slightly before pulling his hair back towards her to keep the chair centered flat on the ground. There was no sense in causing any bruises on the first day.

She was pleased to hear him cry out, his voice undying from the rough motion.

“Quit being a baby. If that’s all it’s going to take to break you then I have an easy run,” The woman smirked, walking to the front of him and leaning on the wall to further observe. “Man, you are muscular-although that cross has to go. We can’t let you think that your faith is going to save you. I’ve been here for nine years and I have not seen one person-faith or otherwise have their dreams of rescue come true. Normally they’re broken and sold or they’re never broken and killed. I’m afraid those options are what you’ll have to come to terms with.”

Corporation? Broken? Killed? Sold? What the hell did I get into? Harry thought feverishly, using his hands to work the ropes.

“Tattoos are usually frowned upon unless they’re given to you as a slave. If need be we’ll burn them off depending what Christian and his dad say. For right now, I’ll just be taking this.”

She went to take the cross but couldn’t as he began to shake his head and struggle in his chair with brutal desperation, all the while screaming out a muffled unintelligible protest. The thought of his tattoos being burnt off, his necklace taken and his freedom nonexistent sent a wave of panic riddling from him to the air.

It didn’t last long.

With sharp precision, the girl brought her hand back and slapped him as hard as she could muster.

Her plan had worked, Harry went still and silent but beneath the black mask he wore to cover his eyes, she could see a small streak slowly making its way down his cheek. It stirred something in her, something indescribable.

“I’m sorry for you bad fortune. I wish I could say more but I’m not the gentle touchy feely kind. I’m a monster and you should do best to remember that.” She finished coldly but did the exact opposite when she reached for him again.

With a surprising gentleness this time he felt her arms go around his shoulders, her dainty fingers struggling for the clasps. Once she unlatched the chain from him she took his cross and put it in her pocket.

“I realize you have a lot of questions-partly the reason you’re gagged other than I find musicians annoying. It won’t be coming off for a few days and you will not be untied so if you need to relieve yourself-you’re already sitting.”

She watched his reaction, smiling at the low tortured moan that escaped, though it was barely audible and it was just as well. She didn’t care, she would never care. Although the tears coming down his cheeks were starting to annoy her.

Instead of slapping him again though, she traced a tear down his face until it fell to his lap, repeating it on the other side.

“I bet your friends are pretty worried about you, considering you have a show in an hour.”

Harry sat straight then.

The concert!

She pushed him back and chuckled.

“You’re not going to make it stud. I’m afraid you’re about eight hours from the venue by car and two hours by plane. It’s not happening,” The girl taunted, chuckling at his garbled pleas. “Besides, whether you know it or not; whether you believe it, Alan’s job was not a coincidence. I’ve known him since I was twelve. He works for the organization. He and they have been planning this for years.”

Harry’s chest began to expand and contract against the ropes, he was losing the battle with his bravery. Everything was falling in on him and all this bitch could do was laugh and torment him.

“Now then, I’ll leave you to ponder on that for a while. I have some things to take care upstairs. Should you need anything-well, I suppose you’re shit outta luck.”

She knelt down and tightened the ropes on his feet before going to the back again and tightening them again to make sure they were good and tight. This time Harry didn’t cry out, even at his shafted skin. His mind and body were much too busy trying to digest and react to everything that had been said in such a short amount of time.

“Goodnight Harry.” The girl finished, heading towards the door and slamming it with the click of a lock.

Notes

Enjoy, I tweaked the beginning :-)