Chapter 5
NOVA play: Chokehold by Sleep Token
It was dark by the time I woke up.
There was one long, blissful moment where I thought it was just a normal day.
I blinked up at the ceiling of my bedroom, confused as to why I could see so clearly.
Had I fallen asleep with my glasses on?
It was only when I tried to reach for my face to adjust my lenses that I realized my wrists were tied to my headboard.
Terror ripped through me, and I let out an embarrassing squeak of fear as instinct had me kicking and struggling against the restraints.
It didn’t do any good, considering my legs were tied down as well. The ropes around my ankles disappeared over the end of the bed to what I assumed were the legs of the bed frame.
As I struggled to come to terms with the horrifying reality that I was tied to my bed, the memories of Melanie’s murder came flooding back.
I remembered the way that faceless man had shot her point-blank in the head right in front of me.
The memory of the way her head had exploded like some sort of grotesque water balloon sent me reeling, and I was worried I was going to vomit all over myself.
“Help!” I screamed, thrashing again in a desperate attempt to get free. “Help! Someone please! Help me!”
“Ah. You’re awake.”
That chilling, robotic voice cut through my pleas, and I froze, slowly turning my head to find my kidnapper sitting quietly in the armchair in the corner.
“Wh-What? Who are you! Why are you doing this to me! Please, just let me go!” I cried, not caring that the skin on my wrists was beginning to burn against the rope he’d used to restrain me.
“Please calm down, Milo. Screaming like this isn’t going to get you the answers that you want.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” I bellowed. “You murdered Melanie! You kidnapped me and tied me up against my will! Who are you!?”
The man cocked his head to the side as I continued to lose my mind, but he didn’t respond.
Instead, he stood up and started walking toward the bed.
This only caused me to panic more. “No, get away from me! Don’t touch me!” I begged as he sat on the edge of my mattress, twisting his torso so he could look down at me through that ominous, black mask.
“Milo. I hardly kidnapped you. I brought you home. This is your apartment.”
“Then why am I tied up?” I rasped. He reached forward, and I flinched away from him, but there was nowhere to go.
My entire body shuddered with terror and revulsion as he gently brushed my hair back out of my eyes, silently staring at me through the glowing blue ring in his mask.
“Because I don’t trust you to listen to me yet.”
His warm fingers twisted a piece of my hair, and I whimpered as the slight tug on my scalp sent sheets of goosebumps down my body.
“But we’ll get there. Do you understand what will happen if you disobey me now? People will get hurt.”
“Please,” I whispered, giving up on my struggle and submitting to the fact that I was completely helpless here. The ropes had no give to them. I couldn’t even stop him from continuing to gently stroke my hair like I was some sort of pet he wished he didn’t have to punish.
“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. Don’t cry. I don’t want to hurt you. But you need to understand. It’s imperative that you listen to me when I ask you to do something, or everything will go to shit.”
“How is me not wearing some stupid outfit worth literally murdering my best friend?” I croaked. My voice broke on the words as guilt crashed through me.
If I’d just worn what he’d laid out for me, would Melanie still be alive?
Was that really why he’d murdered her in cold blood in front of me?
“It wasn’t about the outfit, Milo. It was a test to see if you would be good and listen to me. A test that you very clearly failed… Besides, Melanie Larson was never going to get a free pass. You just gave me an excuse to kill her sooner than I’d originally planned.”
“I-I don’t…Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?
“Shh, don’t worry about that right now. If everything goes according to plan, you’ll know soon enough. Right now, I need you to pay attention. Can you do that for me?”
I found myself nodding as he used his thumb to brush away one of my tears.
Anxiety curled in my stomach. The tender way he was touching me was somehow scarier than if he’d been violent.
I was tied helplessly to my bed while a murderous stranger touched me however he freaking wanted.
So messed up.
Why was I so cursed?
I choked on a sob as he pulled back and slid his phone out of his pocket. I noticed he’d attached the chilli pepper charm he’d stolen from Melanie to an anchor on the phone case. It swung gently in the dark, mocking me, as he turned the screen to face me.
It took a second for my brain to register what he was showing me, and once I did, my blood went cold.
“No…” I breathed.
“Yes. That’s your mother, isn’t it?” the stranger asked, his tone low and dark.
And sure enough, there she was. She was in an unfamiliar bedroom, reading what looked like a gardening magazine.
I scanned the footage in horror, desperately looking for something that I could use to tell the police that might help them find her, but there was nothing. No window. Just a comfortable-looking bed, ship lap walls, and a wooden floor.
I began to violently shake, and the man quickly stuffed the phone back in his pocket. He pinched my jaw firmly beneath his fingers as I began to cry.
He’s kidnapped my mother.
He was holding my very sick, very confused mother HOSTAGE!
What was I going to do!?
My heart rate spiked, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Panic completely took over my body, and I heaved as I fought to stay in control. My eyes were so wide they hurt, and my lungs were aching. I could only seem to be able to draw in air through short, agonizing bursts.
“Shit… fucking breathe, Milo…”
I was fully gone. I couldn’t catch my breath. The room was closing in on me, and my chest heaved in short bursts as I struggled to inhale.
“Fuck…” my captor cursed. Suddenly, he wasn’t sitting next to me anymore.
He was untying me.
I felt more than saw the restraints fall away from my ankles. I was still struggling to breathe past the vacuum in my chest when he expertly undid the knots at my wrists. Once I was free, my instinct was to curl up into a tight ball to ride the panic attack out, but the man wouldn’t let me.
Instead, he guided me into a sitting position and gently pressed my head between my knees.
“Breathe, Milo. In through your nose, and out through your mouth. Come on… You can do it… inhale… exhale…”
He coached me through my panic attack while gently rubbing soothing circles into my back.
I wanted him to stop touching me.
I wanted to scream at him to get away from me, to get the fuck out of my house…
But… whatever he was doing was working, and I couldn’t very well get rid of him until I found out where he was keeping my mother.
My poor mother.
She was probably so scared.
“Wh-where is she?” I rasped, and the man sighed.
“She’s safe. No one is going to hurt her.”
Not if I did what he said.
The unspoken words hung between us, and I peeked up at him, feeling so helpless and weak.
“I’ll take you to her if you cooperate,” the man said, and I closed my eyes, letting out another long shuddering breath.
“I would take you to her now if I could, but it’s not time yet. Just know that she’s safe, and if you follow the rules, you’ll be together soon. I promise.”
Anger flared in my gut as I sat up abruptly, ignoring the slight dizzy spell that rippled over me.
“And why should I trust you? How do I know you won’t just kill her anyway?”
He stared at me through that impenetrable mask, and my frustration grew. It was irritating not being able to see his face. I couldn’t read him at all.
When he sat there like that, he might as well have been a statue instead of a person. Finally, after the longest minute in history, he sighed.
“Have I given you any reason to doubt my word? I told you if you disobeyed me, there would be consequences, and there were. I’m telling you now, if you listen to me, you will be rewarded, and you will. You don’t have to like it, but you have to trust me, Milo.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
The man paused, as if considering what name he wanted to give me. He lazily traced his fingertips up and down my back with a sort of feigned calmness.
I knew if I tried to run, his soft strokes would instantly turn into a steel grip, so I sat as still as I could and allowed him to continue to trace light circles on my back while I waited for him to speak.
“You can call me The Forgotten,” he said finally, tracing his fingers up the back of my head and carding his fingers through my hair.
He gripped me firmly by the roots and turned my head sharply to face him.
My breath caught as I stared up into that glowing, ominous mask, my heart beating wildly like a caged bird in my chest.
“Now. Here’s what’s going to happen. Pay attention, please.”