Cole Evans {Ichabod Crane} (blackcatsrbad) wrote in bellumlogs, @ 2010-07-16 17:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | ichabod crane, npc |
Who: Cole and Jason [NPC]
What: The fun continues
Where: Jason's apartment
When: Late Tuesday night
Warnings: Creepy. Lots of creepy.
At first there was just darkness. Cole tried to open his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if he couldn’t or if they were already open and all he was seeing was blackness. He still felt far away, disconnected from himself and the world he knew was somewhere just beyond his reach. He couldn’t remember anything except being tired, then nothing... and now this. He tried to fight and it got him nowhere, so eventually he just gave up and sank back into the blessed nothingness that wiped out all thought and feeling.
He didn’t know how much time passed when he regained consciousness again, but this time he found he could open his eyes, and there was something other than darkness to greet him. At first his vision was blurred and distorted, but a few quick blinks brought everything into focus. The first thing he noticed was the whiteness. It confused him until he realized it was just paint, and he was surrounded by four white walls. That meant he was in a room, which meant he was inside. They were baby steps, but he still felt a little woozy and at least he was making progress. He tried to turn his head and, finding that he could, saw that the windows were nothing more than boarded-up squares on the walls. Useless. He swivelled his head back to try and see as much of the room as possible, noting that there was barely any furniture save for a couch and a television directly in front of him - which struck him as strange. Why was there a television? From there came an even better question - what was he sitting on?
Cole looked down at himself, a strangled cry catching in his throat when he saw he was handcuffed to a fucking chair. Why the hell was he handcuffed to a chair? Panic began to set in, and he tried to shout for someone... but found he couldn’t. The duct tape over his mouth only allowed for muffled sounds that no one outside of the room would be able to hear.
He didn’t react rationally. He didn’t keep a cool head. Instead he fought like hell, struggling against his bonds and trying to yell even despite the tape. Memories came flooding back to him: going to get coffee, running into Derek and sitting down to talk, becoming tired and getting into a cab with the other man... then nothing before ending up here. Which could only mean that Derek had done this to him... but why? It didn’t make sense. Unless, of course, he wasn’t a reporter at all. His struggles ceased at the realization, and his eyes widened in horror.
“No! Damn it, let me go!” Cole tried to shout, but all his protests merely came out as muffled noises, which were no use to him at all. Eventually he realized that no one was coming - at least not right now - and unfortunately there was nothing he could do but wait.
After he sent Ileana the music box, Jason returned back to his apartment to begin his plans for the English Teacher. He couldn't believe his luck in being able to grab and sneak him back without anyone that Cole knew catching him in the act. But now, now was the time for Cole to understand what his real plans would be for him.
Going through his closet, Jason quickly shed his suit and tie for something a little more comfortable: jeans, black boots, a dark green hoodie, black gloves and a surgical face mask with fangs drawn on the front simply for kicks. Even he had a sense of humour, albeit a dark one usually accompanied by blood and whatever the girl was screaming at the time before he slit her throat.
Striding into the living room, Jason stood in front and two feet away from where Cole was sitting tied up. "You look just like him," he observed as though lost in his own moment before returning to the task at hand. "Okay, first of all, welcome to my place," he announced, arms slowly raised and spread out to indicate the entire room. "Now, I am afraid we are going to have to lay down some ground rules. First, I am and will always be in charge here, so don't try anything stupid or you will regret it greatly. Secondly, if you scream, you will be punished. Third, if you have to go to the bathroom, just ask and I will let you, but be forewarned I will be monitoring you and I have a sawed off .22 and while I need you alive, I don't need your legs. Fourth, your name will no longer be Cole, but we will get to that later. Lastly, when I tell you to do something, you do it, no questions asked. That's how it works."
"Now," he continued, pulling his mask down so Cole could see his entire face, "I'm sure you have some questions, so I'm going to remove the tape. Remember, don't scream," he warned. Quickly he ripped off the tape which as anyone can tell you, hurts a lot. The hand holding the tape hovered in the air near his face, daring Cole to not follow his rules.
Being handcuffed and unable to speak meant that he had a lot of time to think, although he really didn’t have a lot to work with. All he knew was that he must have been drugged, but he had no idea why he was even here and whether he was going to be killed quickly or tortured first. He thought about Ileana too; about whether or not she was okay, and how worried she must have been when he never returned. Did she think he was already dead? Was anyone going to look for him - and even if they did, would they ever find him? The police would be no help, he knew that; so the situation grew more and more hopeless as time passed.
Cole flinched in surprise when Jason entered his line of vision, instinct causing him to try to get away even though it was pointless. His wide eyes took in his appearance, stopping at the surgical mask while he let out a muffled sound from behind the tape. What the fuck was his most predominant thought, and he fought to keep breathing calmly through his nose so he didn’t end up suffocating to death before he even had a chance to escape. It was nearly impossible not to panic, but he tried to pay attention to everything Jason said - it might come in handy later. Don’t try anything stupid, don’t scream; those weren’t unexpected, but what did he mean when he said his name would no longer be Cole? What the hell was all of this? By this point Cole was beginning to realize that this was most likely the man who’d sent him all those weird gifts and notes, but the knowledge wasn’t the least bit comforting. He didn’t doubt that Jason would shoot him if he tried anything, and since they were probably somewhere far away from other people, screaming would be stupid anyway. His only hope at surviving this was to do what his captor said.
He exhaled heavily when he saw the man’s face, mentally berating himself for being so stupid and trusting ‘Derek’, who wasn’t even a damn reporter in the first place. Before he could even prepare himself for the pain the tape was ripped off, causing him to wince and mutter a few choice curse words. He tried to ease the tension in his jaw before speaking, a million questions running through his mind. But he wasn’t impulsive, not this time, and when he finally did speak his voice was hoarse. “Why... Why am I here? What do you want with me?”
Taking a seat on the corner of the coffee table, Jason smiled at him and his questions. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You’ve lasted twice as long as the other guys. Hell, one committed suicide after I sent him too many presents.” He scratched his ear. “I’m sure you already know my name is not Derek, and I’m not a reporter for the New York Times. I rarely even read that hunk of drivel. But that’s not what you asked. Why are you here?” Now he stood back up, slowly pacing on an invisible line on the floor across from Cole.
“For too long in life, humans have been sitting themselves as the zenith of evolution when that is clearly a mistake. Already a select few are transcending the evolutionary ladder. I am one of those people. And for so long I’ve been content with being who I am on my own. But that is something I’m no longer interested in doing. What I need in all honesty is family, someone that can understand and be on the same level as myself. And the only person I could think who would fulfill that need was my brother. Unfortunately he happens to be dead, a side effect of running into my knife, so, I need a replacement. Ergo, you’re that replacement.”
“There is of course two problems that we must fix,” he rubbed his hand over his mouth for a moment. “One, you’re still too compassionate about these lowlifes. Don’t worry, I will break you of that. Two, your name. It won’t fit you anymore as we make this transition for you. From now on, your name is Jacob. Repeat after me, ‘My name is Jacob.’” He waited for Cole to do as he was told.
Wait - he’d done this to other people? It was a struggle to keep the horror out of his expression, but it was no secret that he was half convinced that he wasn’t going to get out of this alive if Jason had his way. He felt an inexplicable surge of pity for the man who’d committed suicide, but maybe it would turn out that he was the only smart one. Too many questions stemmed from this new information, but he kept his mouth shut and focused on keeping his breathing regular despite the pressure he could feel building in his chest. Of course he fucking knew he wasn’t a reporter now, but it was a little too late for all of that. Cole couldn’t help recoiling when Jason started pacing, although he hoped his fear wasn’t too noticeable to the other man.
Once Jason began to explain his purpose, he wished he hadn’t asked in the first place. Oh fuck, this guy is certifiably INSANE - and he killed his brother?! I’m a REPLACEMENT?! Please let this be a nightmare, if there’s a God out there just PLEASE let me wake up... His thoughts were frenzied and panicked, but still he fought to maintain his composure. If he broke down then it might anger the man, and if he decided to shoot his kneecaps or something then it was hopeless. Real life wasn’t like the movies, and Cole knew his chances of getting out were slim enough without being deprived of the use of his legs. There were a few instances when he opened his mouth as though to speak, but thought better of it and said nothing. It didn’t really matter who he was, not now.
He didn’t like the way ‘I will break you of that’ sounded, and his hands tightened around the chair arms until his knuckles turned white. A small defiant part of him was telling him to say no, but he knew that was the worst thing he could do right now. So instead he took a shaky breath and did as he was told, the words tasting bitter and unwanted on his tongue. “My name... my name is Jacob.”
He looked decidedly pleased with himself. "Excellent, that is what I like to hear. We're making progress already," he beamed somewhat childishly. Jason stopped walking and clapped his hands together. "Now! I am sure you must be hungry and thirsty. I'll be right back." Then he left the room for about five or so minutes, giving Cole enough time to start getting used to the apartment as his new home.
Returning, he was holding in his hands a plastic cup of water and a paper plate that only contained jerky on it. Placing the plate down on the coffee table, Jason held up the cup of water to his lips before gently tipping its contents into Cole's mouth. If he tried to refuse the water, it was simply going to spill onto his shirt. Satisfied he received enough, Jason then went for the plate of jerky, picking up one slice. He held it out in his hand, as though he was feeding an animal in a zoo rather than a kidnapped man in a chair. "Here," he smiled. "Now open wide."
He felt like a coward for not resisting, for not telling this psychopath exactly what he thought of him and his plan - but what would playing hero accomplish? It would make a statement, maybe, but it would also make things ten times worse. All he could do was swallow heavily and keep looking at Jason, dread gnawing at the pit of his stomach as he thought of what was yet to come. As soon as the other man left the room he let his head drop forward, squeezing his eyes shut and letting all the frustration and terror flood forth. “I have to get out of here,” he whispered to himself, low enough to keep Jason from overhearing. “I’ll play along, I’ll let him think I’m a willing accomplice, but I have to get out.”
Cole jerked his head back up when his captor re-entered the room, eyeing the cup of water and the jerky warily. They probably weren’t drugged or poisoned, but he still didn’t trust it - especially not the food. “T-Thank you,” he forced himself to say, thinking that politeness might keep the psychopath calm. Even though he could have resisted, he was thirsty and thus drank the water obediently, hating himself all the while.
But when Jason held out the jerky like he was some kind of pet to be fed, his mind snapped back to the human liver that Shane had received. A terrible thought occurred to him, and his stomach tightened in protest at the thought of actually eating the jerky. What if it isn’t animal meat? His mind whispered, and it took all his willpower to keep back a whimper. He didn’t want to eat it, he didn’t want to see the smile that would probably follow because what if what if WHAT IF IT WAS HUMAN?? He began to shake his head, already forming excuses that he wasn’t hungry, but then he thought of Ileana and how much he wanted to get back to her. Taking a deep breath, Cole opened his mouth and tried to tell himself that it was just jerky, that it didn’t taste different even while he chewed laboriously and swallowed it bit by bit.
Smiling the entire time, Jason pushed the slice of dried meat into Cole's mouth, watching and waiting as he chewed and swallowed the entire piece, pretending to be unfazed by his clear dislike for what was given to him. Standing up, his smile disappeared as he lifted his hand, closed it into a tight fist and quickly slammed it against Cole's cheek. Without giving him a chance to recover, he stormed behind the chair, pulled his hair back and seethed right into his ear, "That was for thinking of refusing. Don't you dare do that again."
Stepping back around, his face was still masked in anger before he closed his eyes and clenched his fists before relaxing and smiling. "Be right back." This time he was only gone for a minute before he returned with a dvd and duct tape. Crouching down under the TV stand, he set things up and turned the TV on, shoving the remote control in his pocket before taking the duct tape and ripping off a piece with his teeth. "Now Jacob, just because we've gotten off to a good start, it doesn't mean I trust you," he clarified before slapping the tape over Cole's mouth. "I have things to do, so you can keep yourself busy with this," Jason explained, pressing play on the documentary of The Cannibalism Secrets Revealed before ruffling Cole's hair and leaving the room.
He never saw Jason’s fist coming until it was too late, the surprise of the impact combined with the pain stealing the very air from his lungs. A strangled moan of pain escaped his lips, which turned into a sharp hiss when his hair was yanked back. “A-Alright,” he wheezed, his cheek beginning to throb. “I won’t.” Now he knew for sure that this man wasn’t one to be trifled with, and he didn’t want to know what would happen if he outright disobeyed anything he said.
Cole wished he had his hands free, but all he could do was try to keep from moving his jaw too much in an effort to keep the throbbing from getting any worse. He had absolutely no idea what to expect when Jason returned with a dvd, but before he could even think to ask the duct tape was back over his mouth. “No,” he begged, but it came out as a muffled whimper from behind the tape. He should have just eaten the damn jerky instead of trying to refuse - the only way he was going to escape was if he managed to earn Jason’s trust. Apparently he’d gotten off to a terrible start.
He waited until his captor left the room before turning his attention to the TV, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What the hell was this? Was it some sort of brain-washing thing to try to get him to depersonalize from people? It took a few minutes for the documentary to really get started, but once it did and Cole realized what it was about his eyes widened in horror. “No... oh no. Oh God - let me out of here! You son of a bitch, just let me out!” Luckily his words couldn’t be understood through the tape, and it sounded like he was just making a bunch of off ‘mmph’ noises. He tried struggling again, but his bonds were tight and the chair wasn’t going anywhere soon.
He tried not to watch, but he couldn’t close his eyes and cover his ears at the same time, and his horror only grew with each passing minute. He was beginning to realize that either he was leaving this room as Jacob or he wasn't leaving it at all.