Imprisoned part 16
There was no clock inside the prison. Therefore, Takashi could not tell what time it was. Outside of the fenced window, daylight was fading so the captive knew it most likely was closing to dusk.
Another day had passed, and the kidnapper didn’t show himself, Takashi was glad that he didn’t. He knew he couldn’t endure the presence of the other man, nor his closeness. It had been nearly two days; his captor had merely slipped tray of food through the hidden trapdoor. He did it without once trying to enter Takashi’s prison, without even once trying to make a conversation. Takashi had no clue why the kidnapper would change his approach, but he was grateful for this fact nonetheless.
On the rational level, Takashi knew there wasn’t much he could do to stop his captor from entering the room and forcing his company on him. Therefore, he could only hope the other man would not change his mind and make his entrance any time soon.
He didn’t want the other man’s presence. He wished the man would just...go away and leave him alone, even when the rational side of him was telling him how unlikely it was for the kidnapper to do as he wished. Their past encounters had taught him the other man just wouldn’t simply leave him alone. It would be wise to expect his captor was lurking somewhere and planning something against him, than assuring the latter had simply given up.
You couldn’t expect someone who had already done so many things, even committed kidnapping, breaking more than a handful of laws by doing so, to simply give up. It was out of the question. The kidnapper was merely waiting for the right moment, bidding his time. He had to be.
The kidnapper wouldn’t give up easily. On the other hand, Takashi had also decided not to give in. Despite his helplessness, the brown-haired youth had still decided to resist his captor.
If he could not escape, than he at least must try to keep his captor from getting what he wanted.
If the man walked into the room and tried to talk to or interact with him, Takashi would try his best not to respond.
In addition, he would no longer accept food from his captor. It was difficult, for his body did need food, and it was even more difficult for a person to deny himself food after he had already experienced starvation so intimately and painfully in recent time. In fact, it was nearly unbearable to deny himself. Takashi nearly lost his mind just by being exposed to the scent of cooked food, taking in the sight of it...whilst trying to steel himself against temptation.
It looked nearly impossible but in the end, he managed to hold his own. Even if he must retreat to the opposite side of the room, clinging to himself at the far corner just to resist giving in to his own urge and survival instinct.
It was so, so hard. Reason told him a grown man could survive at least a couple of days without food, but when you were slowly undergoing the process of starvation, every minute could feel as though it had been stretched to an agonising eternity; but Takashi forced himself on because this was the last line of his defence.
Sound of movement from the door drew Takashi’s thoughts back to reality. Looking up, the youth saw the trapdoor at the lower part of the only door being unlocked and slipped open. Then, a new tray with a bowl of food and a plastic spoon was carefully pushed into his prison.
After the assault, the kidnapper had declined to show himself in front of Takashi. However, the unknown man had still been bringing food in. Not once did the man try getting in, neither restraining Takashi again nor feeding him against his will. Since then, food had been brought into his prison room three or two times a day, regularly.
Takashi couldn’t help trying to analyse the kidnapper’s motive. perhaps the latter was bringing food to him as a peace offering, perhaps the latter thought it could buy his forgiveness.
Nevertheless, Takashi wouldn’t have this. He didn’t even touch the food given to him. He barely drank from the bottle of water given to him either. He had suspected drug had been slipped into the food and water given to him. Therefore, refusing them might be the only way to keep himself awake and alert.
Moreover, it seemed to be working. Once he stopped eating and reducing the amount of water he consumed, his mind seemed to be clearer, although he still felt weak, even more so due to the lack of food.
For a long time, Takashi remained seated on the bare wooden floor. He had been avoiding making any movement or changing his position as much as he could, just to save up what little left of his energy. He only left his spot once to empty himself into a used water bottle after he slowly drank up the water within.
He still felt gross over by what he was forced to do for the ‘nature calling’. After all, he still needed to attend to his basic needs; but it was so difficult to do it by himself. The kidnapper had deliberately made him dependant even on matters that were so basic and intimate. Takashi could only comfort himself by thinking it was still better than having to ask for the captor’s help to use the bathroom again, or pissing on the floor.
For the entire time, Takashi had been doing nothing but staring out in front of him and he should have noticed the arrival of nightfall; but when he finally noticed how dim the room had become, he was still caught off guard. Night had already fallen; a whole day had gone by with no incident...or so it seemed.
Perhaps he should get back to bed not far from him, to lie down and save some energy by sleeping the whole night away—dreams seemed more preferable than his horrid reality anyway. Perhaps he might forget the hunger when he wasn’t conscious enough to feel it. It really wasn’t as if he had anything better to do.
Just when Takashi was about to try moving from his spot, he heard something. Immediately, he stirred. What was the faint echo of suspicious sound he thought he had just heard? It came from somewhere; it seemed to be...sound coming from within the room.
Just when he thought he must have misheard, the noise came again.
This time, Takashi knew he wasn’t mistaken. There was white noise coming from the sound device.
Someone calling his name; the kidnapper calling. But...it was wrong......no...not his name. This name wasn’t his, never.
Still...an entire day had passed, and finally the kidnapper made his first attempt of communication. What did he want this time? Takashi couldn’t just ignore it, could he?
Slowly, with heavy steps, Takashi moved towards where the sound device was placed. Putting himself upright and walking proved to be more difficult than he had remembered when he was intentionally starving himself.
He tried his best to move forward without making noise, but at the back of his mind, he suspected the kidnapper probably could still hear him; it would be foolish to think the kidnapper was oblivious to what was going on inside his prison.
This sound device could work both ways. Whilst the kidnapper could speak through the device, he must also be able to hear Takashi’s movements and the sound he made within the locked room. This could also explain why the other man seemed to know what he was doing, even when Takashi was locked inside, all by himself.
Now with his palms and upper arms pressed slightly against the bare wall, he stood in front of the sound device, waiting for the kidnapper to speak again.
Takashi didn’t have to wait long before his captor started speaking through the device.
“Saga, can you hear me?”
Takashi knew he was meant to reply, like an obedient, scared prisoner should, but he kept quiet.
The brown-haired youth swore he could hear the hint of worry in his captor’s voice.
“Saga, you need to eat somethin—”
This time however, Takashi was ready.
Without hesitation, he yanked the device from its place on the wall, crushing it against the back of a wooden chair nearby with as much strength as he could. The small, round sound device made contact with the hard wood of the chair with a dull noise, and it was all it took for it to break apart into useless pieces of plastic.
It all happened too quickly. The device was crushed even before the kidnapper could become alarmed or made any protest; but after that, the mysterious man would not be able to speak to Takashi through the sound device again.
Moreover, it was just fine with Takashi, for he simply couldn’t bear to hear this male’s voice and listen to him telling him what he should do any longer. It reminded him too much of how he was caged and at his captor’s mercy even when the latter was not psychically presented.
With feeble movement, Takashi moved back to his old spot at the corner. He had nothing to do now, but at least...he knew he had a purpose.
He would resist his captor, for as long as he could take. He didn’t care what would become of himself anymore.
You must admit, you were not entirely surprised by how...strongly Saga had reacted; but you were still caught a bit off guard when the latter broke the sound device so suddenly and unceremoniously. You knew you should expect anger, but you had hardly ever suspected that Saga could be the type to use...force when he was upset.
You had made your Saga very, very upset, and now you would have to figure out how to make him stop rebelling against you.
You knew how anger could drive a person to do things that were totally out of character. You also knew how under the influence of rage, people tended to do things they would regret later. You figured this time, you should wait longer, giving Saga more space until he could cool down. Only after that, you might......put some sense back to him.
This time, you wouldn’t be forceful. Still, you were quite certain that eventually, you would teach Saga to submit his will to you, and you would let him realise how good it was to be yours. Then surely, Saga would forgive you and he would no longer be so angry.
Once again, daylight arrived as night slowly faded away. Takashi lay on the bed, his head netted amongst a couple of pillows under him. His eyes fixed on the narrow fenced window from across the room, impassively watching the dark blue of the dying night melting to lighter colours.
He didn’t know for how long he had laid there watching the piece of open sky framed by the fenced window. He only knew he had been spending more and more time on the bed, he knew his strength was wearing thin, so he didn’t bother to use more of it by trying to move.
His mind had once been sharper and clearer than it had been for days after he stopped taking any of the drug-stained food. He was able to think more clearly than he had been for days, but now his clear sense became dull once again due to the sharp hunger, and there was something else bothering him.
Aside from the always-presented hunger, as he lay there, Takashi noticed he had been sweating rather uncontrollably despite the coolness within the room.
The feeling of cold sweat covering his skin, soaking both the back and front of his clothes, it felt gross. Takashi wanted to wipe the sticky droplets away from his temple and his neck but…...he was alarmed to find he couldn’t lift his own hands.
Takashi was scared. At the back of his mind, he wondered why he would feel so unwell. It couldn’t be as bad as what he had suffered after waking up to find himself locked in a windowless cell, bound and then blindfolded. Nevertheless, why was he feeling so weak, his mind so clouded?
What was going on? Why couldn’t he move properly? Why did he feel so...hot all of a sudden?
As he lay on top of the mattress, becoming increasingly unwell, Takashi felt uncomfortably hot even when his limbs started to shudder out of control.
“Hot…” Lying on his side, Takashi tried to make his limbs move, to close his fingers around a corner of the blanket so he could push it off. He didn’t want to be covered. It felt like he was on fire, so he tried to do the first thing came to mind: he tried to pull the blanket away from his body.
“No, Saga! You are freezing!”
However, his attempt to free himself from the heavy blanket was interrupted, as a pair of strong hands putting him firmly back to the bed, tucking his body under the blanket again.
Takashi wanted to struggle, but strength seemed to be slipping away from his body. Who was with him in the same room? When did the other get there? Who was this person? Why was he stopping him...? Too many questions his overheated brain could barely keep up with.
“Saga...don’t move so much...you need rest…”
Takashi ignored those words, but those hands wouldn’t leave him alone until he had no other choice than to lie down.
He could vaguely see a figure hovering above him, peering down at him in what seemed to be concern, but it was strange for Takashi to realise he couldn’t see the man’s face properly. It was so hard just to keep his eyes open, and even when he managed to open them, everything within his vision seemed to blur together.
Why did this guy keep calling him ‘Saga’? It wasn’t his name...or was it?
Takashi tried to form words, but nothing louder than a whimper managed to escape pass his trembling lips.
“Don’t say anything, you’re burning up!”
Before he could finish, he was put into a tight hug.
“Oh dear,” the man whispered against the crook of his neck, “Saga, you have a fever.”
He was ill. Your Saga had fallen ill. His body was feverish under your touch, and you knew how dangerous it would become for him if the fever didn’t break. You started panicking, for you didn’t know what to do.
You couldn’t take him to a clinic or a hospital; that was totally out of the question. Even when you were certain that Saga could not possibly identify you or direct the police to this cabin—your hideout—still, taking Saga to the hospital would certainly mean sending your precious captive back to the outside world, which would also mean you would forever lose the chance to keep Saga to yourself. You would not allow something like this to happen.
Without caring whether Saga might still be conscious enough to see your face or not, you rolled him to lie fully on his back, speaking softly to him, pleading him to respond, to open his eyes. Even though you knew fully well that once Saga did open his eyes, he might still be conscious enough to see your face and memorise it, and he might still be able to recall what he had seen after he recovered. Still, you didn’t care. Now, Saga’s safety and recovery meant more than protecting your identity and secret.
It seemed to take forever before Saga finally opened his eyes. He blinked for a few times as if to clear his vision. You held your breath, not sure how Saga might react. Now, he was looking directly up at you, but his eyes were glassy and unfocused. You figured that he might be too far gone to know what he was seeing. Though you really didn’t know whether you should feel relief or be troubled by this fact.
“Saga, can you hear me?”
Saga made a small moan, turning his head away as if in discomfort. Then he writhed, trying to pull off his blanket.
“Don’t, I said you’re freezing!”
You quickly got a hold of him and pulled the blanket right back in a hurry. Saga protested and tried to fight you, but he could barely raise his arms up and couldn’t do much to resist you. He was weak, even more so than you had expected. You knew the reasons why his health had become so fragile, oh you did know...Not only Saga had refused to eat in the past two days, so it was most likely that his weakened state had made him vulnerable to illness. Beside this, you had done your fair share to weaken him.
Starting from the beginning, you had always made sure not to give Saga too much food. Instead, you intended to give him...just enough, sometimes barely enough. He wouldn’t starve, but he shouldn’t get enough to allow him regain his strength fully. This strategy had seen to work before...but what you hadn’t expected was to Saga to become so ill all of a sudden.
Furthermore, under the influence of rage, you had forgotten to change the bandages around Saga’s wrists. You hadn’t even provided him with anything to clean his wounds......and now, when you unwrapped the bloodstained old bandages, you could see the old cuts around his wrists were bruised. Out of anger, you had forgotten Saga’s wounds and how they might affect his physical well-being. Was it also part of the reason that Saga was ill? You were afraid the answer was most likely positive.
If it was your fault that Saga had fallen ill, then it was solely your responsibility to make Saga well again, whatever it took.
After nursing Saga’s wounds with care, you hurried out of the room, going downstairs to the kitchen, taking a glass and a kettle filled with warm water with you and going back upstairs. It was common knowledge that a person who had gone down with high fever would need a lot of water. It was what Saga would need at the moment...
You quickly poured the warm water into the glass, and then you sat down next to Saga, gathering him into your arms so now he was sitting with his upper body leaning against you. Saga’s overheated body felt limp and boneless. You knew at this point, he was unable to support himself without your help.
You watched him slowly swallowing tiny mouthful of water, one sip after another. He didn’t choke, but he only managed to finish 1/4 of the glass before he turned his head away.
You pleaded, but Saga’s lips remained pressed tight into a stubborn thin line.
You sighed, putting the glass aside, and then went back to cradle poor Saga as the latter continued to tremble, struggling to draw in breath.
“Don’t worry, you will be fine.” Kissing his forehead in apology, you moved his head a bit so he could have a more comfortable spot for resting. If he heard what you were saying, he didn’t seem to have enough strength to respond.
Soon, Saga was thrashing again, whispering something under his breath.
“What is it, Saga?”
“...it’s too bright…”
“What’re you saying?”
“...hurt...it’s too bright...my eyes…”
You realised what must be bothering Saga. It must be the light in the room. Although you had taken care to make sure the lighting in the room would always remain dim, but somehow in Saga’s weakened state, the dim light in the room must still be hurting his eyes.
Straightening up, you quickly drew the curtains shut, took the lamplight from the desk and moved it as far away from the bed as possible.
Once again, you went back to Saga’s side, wiping the newly formed thin film of sweat off his forehead. You had noticed Saga’s hair and the front of his shirt were both damped by sweat.
That wouldn’t do. You needed to keep Saga as comfortable as you could, you knew you must prepare to wash him and change his clothes...
For an entire night, you kept watching, changing the ice bag, replacing the damped clothes with the fresh one, wiping cold sweat away from Saga’s skin, helping him swallow medicine and drink what little water he could manage to consume. You were alert for the whole night; you did all you could to keep him safe and comfortable.
You didn’t even dare to think what would happen if it turned out your effort was still not enough to help Saga recover.
For hours on end, Saga didn’t wake up. His face was still alarmingly pale, but the shiver had stopped at some point. His breathing had slowly become steady again. You felt his forehead, and it appeared to be cooler than before. Thankfully, he was sleeping now; truly falling asleep instead of being helplessly trapped in feverish delusions, unable to wake up, yet unable to truthfully rest either.
Could you dare hope this meant the worst of the fever had passed and his condition had become stable?
Brushing a damp lock of hair from Saga’s temple, you sighed, realising once more how much it was a burden to keep constant care over someone when the latter was entirely depending on you.
However at the same time, the thrill of complete control was also undeniable.
You were not going to give this up.
Placing the used cloth on the chair near the bed, you crawled into bed, lying down next to Saga, and pulling the blanket up over the two of you. It was time to rest, although the night had long crept in and you had lost counted how many hours had passed. Only one thing you were certain of: you were exhausted. In order to continue looking after Saga, you needed some rest. Just a few hours should be enough...
Saga gave out a soft moan as you settled next to him. Perhaps he was dreaming. Still, he did not resist when you carefully wrapped your arms around his thin body, drawing him close.
It was so different from how he reacted around you when he was conscious. You could always feel Saga going tensed whenever you put your hands on him, regardless how gentle your touches were, he just couldn’t seem to relax. You had promised you would be understanding and patient, but his reaction still hurt.
However, now things were different. Not only Saga wasn’t resisting, he had remained relaxed, wrapped up in your embrace, breathing warmly against you; one of his hands resting against your clad chests. It felt so surreal.
Even though you knew you shouldn’t take advantage of Saga when he was so ill, but you still felt a surge of joy. After all, you now had gotten the rare chance to cuddle with your beloved.
“I’ll take care of you.”
You whispered sweet nothing into Saga’s ear; though you knew it wasn’t likely that the unconscious one could hear you. “You’ll be fine.”
To be continued.
When writing this scene I started to think: 'Damn that's creepy...that's downright creepy, especially the ending part...', but whatever. *shrugs*