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jacksprimalfear · 10 months

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I’m Empty ‘till he fills, I’m alive ‘till he kills.

[TW: KIDNAPPING, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, TORTURE]

(this is a collaboration with @a3s1rxx )

And my condo is absolutely destroyed. Up in flames. The police and fire department are already on their way as I sadly walk over to the payphone.

Once in, I reach into my pocket, pulling out Marla’s number. I reach for the phone and slowly punch in the numbers from the paper.

As soon as she picks up, I hang up. Opting to call Tyler instead, the man I met on the plane. I have no idea why I called him, but I did.

I punch in the number on his business card.

Ring ring ring.

He doesn’t pick up. Crap. I slowly start to step out and away from the payphone before hearing it ring. I pick up the phone. Hello? I say.

I hear him eating chips on the other end of the line, “Who’s this?” He asks me. Tyler? I ask, to make sure it’s him.

“Who is this?” He asks once again. Uh, we met on the airplane, we had the same suitcase, I reply. The uh, the clever guy, I continue. He laughs “Oh yeah, right.”

I called…a second ago, I inform him. There was no answer I’m at a paypho- “Yeah i’m sorry I *69’d you, I never pick up my phone.”

I let out a little smile at that. “So, what’s up?” He asks. Uh..well, you’re not going to believe this. I say, looking back at my burning condo.

We’re now at Lou’s Tavern, a bar. I tell him about all the things I have lost. “Why do guys like us know what a duvet is. Is it essential to our survival in the hunter gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we, then?” I look at him, a bit puzzled.

I dunno, consumers? I answer. “Right, we’re consumers, we are byproducts of a lifestyle obsession.”

He goes on, “Murder, crime, poverty. These things don’t concern me. What’s concerns me are celebrity magazines, televisions with 500 channels, some guys name on my underwear.”

I start to become almost amused with his big ideas about consumerism. Martha Stewart. I add on.

“Fuck Martha Stewart, she’s polishing the brass on the Titanic, it’s all going down man!” He says

“So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns.” He sure is passionate about all of this “I say never be complete. I say stop being perfect. I say let’s evolve. Let the chips fall where they may.”

He’s very..intentional with the way he talks, like he’s trying to convince you. “But that’s me, and I could be wrong. Maybe it’s some terrible tragedy.”

We are now outside Lou’s. “Just ask” he says. Huh? I reply “Is it a problem for you to ask if you can stay with me?” Oh god. Oh, Tyler, really it’s fine. I say. “No seriously stay with me.” Seriously. I’ll go find a hotel. I respond.

“Stay. With. Me” I’m starting to get annoyed by his asking. No, I respond, I’ll go find a hotel, I’m not staying with a guy I just met. I go on. “Fine, guess we’ll have to do this the hard way, Ikea-boy.” What could he mea-

Punch

I find myself waking up, tied to a chair. I try to scream but i’m gagged. Some sort of cloth in my mouth. I start trying to remember what happened, and then it hits me. Tyler.

Tyler had knocked me out and brought me to some abandoned looking house. I try to squirm but it’s no use, I assume Tyler had heard me moving and walked into the room I was in “You’re awake.”

I look at him, rage in my eyes. “You didn’t wanna come with me so unfortunately this is how it has to be.” I tried to scream again. “Shut up. It’s no use, you’re gagged. You’re only wasting your breath.”

I squirm again. “And you’re only gonna give yourself rope burn with all that moving.” I sigh and give up, hanging my head low. “There we go, just let go, be good, and you’ll be fine.” He pats my head. Oh how I want to break his hand.

Oh how I want to just beat him into the ground a- He’s waving a hand in front of my face. “Come back to reality, Ikea-boy.” I hate that nickname.

“Don’t try and escape from this. Stay right in the moment”. You sick fuck. After looking at me for a moment he starts up again, “Well. I’m getting tired, I’m heading to bed, night.”

He leaves and i’m left alone with nothing but my thoughts. Torture.

I sit for hours, letting my situation sink in, I know nobody is going to look for me.

I start to panic, then I start to cry. Wondering how I ended up here. I hope my crying will make me fall asleep, but it doesn’t. It’s not satisfying, it doesn’t help me in any way.

I just sit there and cry, helpless. I see some of my tears hit the dirty and grimy floor, I start to wonder how old this building is. All I can do is look around and take everything in, to assess my situation. It’s definitely not looking good.

I stay like this until the sun comes up. I can hear Tyler getting up from his bed in the other room, I listen to each step as he makes his way to me. Opening the door I see him again.

“Good morning, sunshine, did you sleep well?” I refuse to give him any reaction. “I asked you a fucking question.” I still give no response, nothing. He walks up to him a swiftly slaps me across the face, I groan in pain. “Answer me. Yes or no.” I hesitantly shake my head.

“Awh, that’s too bad isn’t it. I slept like a baby.” He walks back over to the door. “I’ll bring you breakfast soon.”

He leaves and closes the door. I start to think of ways I could escape, my mind comes up blank. I’m tied pretty tight to this chair, it’ll take Tyler untying me before I even think about escaping.

Tyler finally comes back with my “breakfast” if you can even call it that, it was just a slice of bread and some water.

“Now I’m gonna remove the sock from your mouth. And you’re not going to scream.” He takes out the sock and it looks disgusting, grimy, dirty, I almost threw up now that I knew that was in my mouth.

“Open up.” I hesitantly open my mouth, he feeds me the bread and lets me sip the water, and then drink it all, I’m still very hungry. He leaves the room again and I’m left to think…again.

I’m at least grateful to have the sock out of my mouth. My jaw hurts from being propped open for so long.

I begin to think about my sad and pathetic life leading up to this moment, how I’ve wasted my time, my life really. About my childhood, my father, my upbringing.

I think about the support groups, how they’ll all think the worst when they realise i’ve stopped showing up, the looks on their faces. I think about how many sleepless nights ill go through, trapped here. About ho-

Buzzz..

There’s a fly. It lands on my nose. I begin to think about how jealous I am of this fly, he can move freely, and he doesn’t have to have the burden of human sentience, he doesn’t have any concept of time. He’ll probably die in a day or two.

Not me, I’m stuck here, for however long Tyler wants to keep me here, fully aware of everything.

I wish I could be as blissfully unaware as this fly. I shake my head, making the fly buzz away. I watch it fly around the room, bumping into the walls. Stupid thing.

I watch the fly zoom around for a while until Tyler comes in and kills it. “How’s it going?” He talks to me as if he didn’t kidnap me.

“Oh come on not this shit again.” I don’t respond to him. “I asked you, how’s it going.” I stare at him, mouth shut. He suddenly punches me

“I don’t like being ignored.” I groan from the pain. It stings, but then also feels numb. I…

I trail off, not knowing what to say “Spit it out already.” I don’t like it here. I reply.

“You’ll get used to it.” He stares at me “You have a really sad and sick desperation in your eyes. Like a war orphan.” A war orphan.

“Later tonight I have something to give you, consider it a gift.” I’m now wondering what my gift could possibly be. He leaves again.

It has been hours. I think I’m starting to go insane, I’m hungry, exhausted, and my cheek hurts, Ive been crying on and off thinking about everything. Tyler comes in “I’m gonna give you your gift now.”

He walks closer to me, untying me, I think of running but I know it’s no use. He grabs me by the arm and pulls me down the stairs and into the kitchen, lots of chemicals splayed on the counter.

“I’m making soap.” Will my gift be soap? He’s on the other side of the counter. He grabs my hand and licks his lips, he kisses my hand.

What is this? I ask. He suddenly grabs a tub of lye and pours it over my hand “This is chemical burn.” Immediately my hand feels like it’s on fire, the lye literally burning my skin.

Of course this is his idea of a gift. I cry out in pain and try to move away but he holds me in place. PLEASE PLEASE TYLER. I cry and scream. “Just take it.” I beg for him to please free me from this pain.

I try and zone out, but he slaps me “NO. Stay right with me Ikea-boy. Right here.”

I sob and continue to beg. “Just accept the pain. Shut up and accept it. It’s only after we lost everything that we are free to do anything.”

I try to shut up and take it like he says, and a few minutes later he pours vinegar on my hand to neutralise the burn.

I fall over and he walks over to me. He squats down to my level. “Now we’re matching.” He lifts up his hand and shows me his burn scar in the same place as mine but on his hand. “Lets get you back up to your room.”

He helps me up and brings me back to the room, but instead of tying me to the chair, he ties my arms and legs and leaves me on the dirty mattress in the corner of the room.

I look at my hand. Now every time I look at it, i’ll be reminded of Tyler and how he gave me this.

I will forever be tethered to Tyler through this scar. No matter if I make it out of here or not. It’s an absolutely sickening thought.

It’s almost like he’s branded me, like he’s trying to show me he owns me now. And no matter what I do, he’ll always own me.

It’s been 2 and a half weeks. I’m miserable, I’m frail, I’m exhausted, and I’m starting to grow an attachment to Tyler. Every so often he comes in here and talks to me, he’s the only person I can talk to. He’s almost sweet sometimes.

But other times he gets angry and takes it out on me, beating me. I have many bruises left by Tyler. He told me I should be grateful for every bruise, that it’s a gift from him, and I’m starting to believe it.

It’s starting to make sense to me. He treats me to little things sometimes, like instead of bread, I get a cupcake. Sometimes he’ll let me sit on the couch with him, that is if i’m good. And I almost hate to say it but I enjoy it.

I start to really like Tyler, but then I hate him again. Just to really like him again. I start to think I can live here forever and I can be with him forever, but then he starts to disgust me all over again. I start to loathe him. I end up in tears.

It’s a cycle.

“So, are you mad at me today?” I look over at him “Answer me, and be honest.” I nod. “Is it because I hit you yesterday?” I nod once more.

He walks over to my bed, where i’m sitting and sits next to me. “Come here.” He opens his arms and I almost jump into them, even though my arms and legs are tied together.

He gently unties my hands and I wrap my arms around him. He envelopes me into a hug.

“You know I only hit you because I’m mad. I just need something to help me blow some steam.” I nod, I feel happy that I can help him feel better.

“If you’re good today, i’ll let you have some reading time.” Ah my favorite.

Sometimes he gave me books to read. I’ve never appreciated a book more in my life than I have in here.

A couple hours have passed and I have gotten my book after all. Tyler had come back into my room and he laid down on my bed.

I’m reading the book to him. I am Jacks enflamed sense of rejection. I read.

I hear snoring.

He’s sleeping. Instantly my mind gets the urge to run, to make an escape, but I just look down at him. I gently run my fingers through his hair and he smiles a bit in his sleep.

I stay put.

I don’t even know how long it’s been anymore. The cycle of me hating and loving Tyler has gotten worse, I don’t know what to do.

He hurts me, then comforts me, he hurts me, then comforts me, he hurts me, then comforts me, he hurts me, then comforts me, he hurts me, then comforts m-

Tyler comes into my room.

“Do you wanna go out for a walk?” He asks. I look at him like this is the best offer i’ve ever gotten in my life. YES! I reply.

He walks over to me and unties my hands and feet and helps me to stand up, I get my shoes on and walk downstairs with him.

“Be good, okay? Don’t try and run.” I nod and we walk out of the house, we walk around for a couple of blocks.

He talks about consumerism and goes on his big rant about it. But then he asks me something. “Tell me something about yourself.”

I open my mouth and nothing comes out. I’ve been with him so long I no longer have a sense of self, it’s not like I had any hobbies before him either.

I have no life outside of him. I just stop walking and stand there.

“Uh, you alright?” I look at him and then I look forward.

I start running.

I don’t even know why I start to run, but I do, and instantly Tyler is yelling, running after me, I run like my life depends on it, which it sort of does.

Nothing on my mind but escaping the hell i’ve been trapped in for months, routine beatings, starvation, and isolation. I almost thought I could outrun him.

Until I ran out of adrenaline. I haven’t been exactly healthy, and Tyler works out almost everyday.

He caught up to me. He grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me back to the house, angrily “You’re IN for it this time.” There was no escaping this.

Once we got home, Tyler throws me on the floor, getting on top of me and beating me like he usually does.

But it doesn’t stop, and the pain gets worse with each punch, I can imagine I look swollen and ridiculous at this point, with how often he beats me and how hard he does.

He’s yelling at me but I can barely hear him over the hard packing sounds of his fists meeting my face, it’s deafening. I can feel the iron taste of blood in my mouth, and I can feel it dripping into my eye.

There comes a point where you’re experiencing so much pain that it almost feels numbing. I’m fading in and out of consciousness. This feels almost peaceful, as if I’m feeling the sensation of falling asleep.

It almost feels like i’m having an out of body experience. Maybe this is what he meant about letting go. Just letting it happen.

As he said It’s only after we have lost everything that we are free to do anything. Maybe this is my freedom.

My vision is fading as he repeatedly beats me. I think I’m falling asleep, but I don’t think I’m gonna wake up.

The last things I hear are the shouts of Tyler as he beats me to death. To sweet sweet death. Please, Tyler, tear me apart, let me never be complete. Now I can finally let go and be free.

[AN: I did not spell check any of this. Also. Gonna make Narrator and Tyler fluff later to cope with this]

#fight club #tyler durden #the narrator #narrator fight club #narrator x tyler #narrator x tyler durden #fight club fanfiction #edward norton #brad pitt

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