Adult-FanFiction.org : Final Fantasy

Stockholm Syndrome	By : SerenNoir Category: Final Fantasy VII > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 975 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Final Fantasy franchise and make no money by writing this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter Two

XxXxX
Stockholm syndrome: (noun) and emotional attachment to a captor formed by a hostage as a result of continuous stress, dependence, and a need to cooperate for survival
XxXxX

I blinked my eyes open painfully as I felt my head knock roughly against a uneven tile. I was aware that the first thing my eyes finally focused on was a ceiling and that, in fact, it was not the norm to be looking at said ceiling at such an angle.
I was being dragged like a too-heavy sack of potatoes by Loz, who grunted a bit, even though I wasn't heavy at all compared to him. Inwardly, I reeled in laughter. I had thought this only happened in the movies, to be dragged like this.
My back slammed sharply against an old wooden door, the peeling white paint sticking to the fabric of my shirt. Loz leered down at me and twisted the knob and I felt myself falling backwards. My legs came flying up over my head and I covered my face as I tumbled down the short flight of stairs.
I coughed into the dank smell of dirt upon reaching the bottom, raising my head up just in time to see the door shut and lock behind me, throwing the room in pitch darkness. With a groan, I allowed my head to fall back to the ground, almost relieved to actually be free albeit locked up.
Slowly, I rolled over onto my back and waited for my eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. It hurt to breathe, a sign that a few of my ribs were cracked or broken. But thankfully, the gash on my forehead had ceased bleeding and I rubbed the dried blood from my eyelashes with a grubby hand.
In my vast knowledge of old gangster movies, I had come to the conclusion that I was being held for ransom. My life in trade for the location of these three brothers' "Mother". A wave of despair washed over me for I knew Shinra was never going to negotiate, least of all for me.
I was an expendable asset for the company.
A loud crash from upstairs brought me out of my reverie and I tilted my head towards the door where a beam of light filtered from the bottom and cast a murky glow on the splintered wooden steps.
"What do you mean you got the wrong guy? I give you two a simple task and you still manage to screw it up!" a young, masculine voice sounded.
"Calm down Kadaj, your yelling is making Loz cry." I recognize the second voice to be Yazoo and the third can only be Loz, himself.
"I'm not crying!"
There's a thump and I can only assume it's this Kadaj's fist coming into rough contact with the plaster wall, as dirt from the far side of the room rains down somewhere in the dark. The door slams open suddenly and the sudden burst of light makes my eyes screw up and I moan softly in pain as this upsets the gash on my head.
The outline of a slim figure is illuminated in the doorway and I instinctively scoot backwards as it makes its way towards me. Hips that swing that fluidly can only be dangerous.
The shadow takes quick steps towards me and before I can form an articulate protest, I'm yanked up by my collar and slung against the wall, my neck snapping backwards and causing a jarring pain to skitter down my spine.
Kadaj isn't done, because I was merely hoping he was taking his previous anger in that one go, and he slides up to me, as stealthy as a panther and crouches down before me.
"Well well, you're not the one I wanted, but you'll do," he breathes in my face, lifting my chin with a gloved finger. I blink blurrily through my hazy eyes and try to form a good comeback, something Reno-worthy but my head lolls to the side against my will.
His hand comes sharply across my face and the force behind it actually knocks me to the ground. I lay there, panting heavily into the dirt, feeling blood seep onto my tongue.
"Loz! Come finish this," he yells and I hear him walk away and something heavier creak on the steps. I look up to see him smirk in the doorway seconds before Loz's giant form blocks my view and a swift kick is delivered to my gut.
I curl up into the fetal position and protect my head, on the brink of unconsciousness but yet still feeling every blow with painful clarity delivered to me. All I can think, and feel and hear is Loz's steel toed boots and the dull pounding of my blood in my ears and when the dark finally comes, minutes later, I welcome it once more with open arms.
This is truly my hell.

When I am summoned back from the dark hours later, -although it could have been days-, Yazoo is standing, almost patiently, above me. His hands hold a glass of water and a bowl, from which steam wafts off, and a thin blanket is thrown over his left shoulder.
"Wha-What do you want?" I croak out, my throat feeling like I've swallowed barbwire.
My ribs hurt so bad and it takes a great amount of effort to pull air into my lungs. Yazoo steps forward and kneels, placing the bowls near my head. I glance up into his quiet face and realize he's not looking at me, but rather keeping his eyes trained somewhere off to my right.
It's then that I notice light has entered the previously dark and foreboding room and the source is a small window, -too high up to be of any use-, that is uncovered and open. A fresh breeze assaults my senses and I breathed in on instinct, at once emitting a pained moan when the simple action upsets my ribs.
Yazoo notices this, along with my slight wheezing, and suddenly drops down before me all the way, his knees creating a slight thud, and he lays a hand on my abdomen. Of course I flinch away, something he sees, but his hands are surprisingly gentle as they move over my sides.
"Kadaj can lose his temper easily and it's everyone else around him that feels its repercussions."
It's the first thing he's said since I woke up and his voice is deep and sultry with an emotion I can't describe.
"Che, don't stick up for that bastard." I wanted to add, 'You're no better than he is,' but decided against it; Yazoo was actually being civil towards me.
"He's my brother; I have to stick up for him," he replies, his eyes dropping down to my chest.
There's a tension in the way he said it and for a split second I received the impression that there was some unsolved mental trauma between the three brothers, something that happened to Yazoo and he can't bring himself to fully forgive.
Yazoo stands up, his curtain of silver hair sweeping along his arms, and tosses the blanket down next to me. "I'll be back later with some bandages and pain medication," he murmurs, heading for the stairs.
"Why are you doing this?" I yell out, trying to get a straight answer before he leaves. He pauses on the stairwell and I can see his knuckles clench around the metal bar.
"Because this isn't right."
The slam of the door echoes around in my skull, pounding against my temple and causing my headache to split once more. Slowly, with effort, I prop myself up against the wall and grab the warm bowl next to me. The soup is a little bland and the vegetables aren't fresh but nonetheless it's hot and good and I appreciate it.
I can hear them walking around above me and it slowly drives me crazy, not knowing what they're doing or what they're planning. The breeze through the window is coming in strong and I pull the blanket up over my lap.
A sharp tweet comes from the sill and I turn to see a bright robin perched on the outer rim, eyeing me with something close to curiosity. I hate that it sits there, free to fly away, but chooses to mock me and my bad luck.
I throw the spoon at it.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Stockholm Syndrome