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A lot of people think that the two main fear responses are fight or flight, they’re wrong.
Flight, running away, is the primary fear response of most people, the fear response that Mob thought he had. Fight is the fear response of attacking what scares you, a much more prideful response. Freeze is the fear response of staying still, not doing anything in the face of danger, like a deer.
And then there’s fawn. Fawn is a fear response of agreeing with what hurts you, allowing the hurt to come in hopes that being nice to your attacker will make it hurt less. Typically these are people who will gain stalkholm syndrome in kidnapping cases.
Mob didn’t know if flight was more appropriate because of the past, or if fawn was more appropriate based on how he was acting now.
“Vvvvv- ver. Ty?” His words came out in incoherent mumbles. Damn, his head hurt so bad.
A vague… clicking? Sound came from above him. What he could only assume was Verity, just in a disgusting and misshapen form, was clinging to the ceiling above him, just watching him.
He didn’t feel in control any more, like his body was made of cement. He felt his mouth move before he could think, “Verity… pl, ease. Please don’t hurt me. We’re friends right?”
Why would he say that..? They weren’t friends… but if they were maybe. Maybe Verity would be kinder to him.
“Verity, we’re close… you wouldn’t hurt me?”
Verity’s smile grew bigger, wider, sharper. His eyes grew impossibly wider and he lowered ever so slightly.
Mob went to open his mouth to talk, but before he could, Verity surged forward and bit down. Hard. He screamed and thrashed, but slowly he felt something invade his body and started to go numb, he went limp.
His eyes stayed pinned to Verity, who was now on top of him, spindly limbs wrapped around his and staring at him in uneasy eye contact.
His breathing was ragged. Shallow. His eyes hurt to keep open but he physically couldn’t close them. It hurt so bad, those sharp limbs poked into every crevice of his cold and sore body.
His organs felt tender, it was so cold and too warm and his eyes stung with the disgusting air Verity breathed into his face over, and over, and over again.
They sat like that for hours.
Eventually, Verity stood up from his position to go outside of the cave they seemed to be in, although he still couldn’t move since Verity had periodically pushed that venom in his veins.
He sat alone for what could have been anywhere between one to four hours when he finally heard Verity coming back.
He clambered into the tight space with-
…
with the body of a dead villager.
He knew what Verity wanted him to do, or at least what Verity was going to make him do.
Verity, with that sickening smile and those awful eyes forced his jaw open, and forced pieces of that cold dead body down his throat.
It hurt so bad.
He smiled at Verity, maybe if he became a monster like Verity.
Maybe he would live.
This pattern went on for days. Days in which he would spend his time just sitting against the wall, being wholly and completely taken care of by Verity.
It was mortifying, but he was alive. He didn’t feel alive, but he was.
As time went on, he felt more and more… attached. Attached to that disgusting yet divine yellow face that haunted dreams he no longer had. He hadn’t slept, he couldn’t. Not with monsters near by.
But was he really a monster? He was so kind to him, he was awful and disgusting but… he kept Mob alive.
Maybe he had been over reacting, Verity hadn’t been done anything wrong, he was just hungry… Maybe Verity was right.
He knew deep down he was lying to himself, there was a part of him that was desperately trying to keep the hope that he’d make it out.
But he could never escape, no matter where he ran, because Verity knew everything.
Mob wasn’t scared anymore, so he went to sleep.
…
…
…
Over the days, months, years- time that Mob had been trapped living with Verity, he learned to understand the beauty of his nature, and the kindness in his ways. Eventually, Verity had returned to a more human like state, although he wouldn’t be complete without his uncanny features that Mob had learned to love.
They lived normally, kindly, and happily together! Nothing was wrong.
But sometimes, when Verity got hungry, Mob would wander into a village to bring home
Dinner.