Drapetomania | Creepypasta

12.

??, ??, 2017

I found myself confined to that same room, still bound to the chair, but oddly, it didn't feel as terrible as it once had. It was as if I had adapted to my surroundings, and the persistent fear had been replaced, in part, by a strange acceptance.

At that moment, Ben was there, holding a cup of instant noodles. He attempted to feed me, but his inexperience was evident as a noodle slid down my chin. I couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Hey, let me... I'm not a baby."

He looked sheepish, setting the cup aside. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm just not used to doing this. I'm trying to take care of you the best I can."

I could see genuine concern in his eyes, and despite the situation, I appreciated his efforts. "I know, Ben. I appreciate it. You've been kind to me."

As I spoke, I couldn't help but wonder how he had become involved in this bizarre situation. There were still so many unanswered questions, and I was determined to unravel the mystery surrounding this cabin and its inhabitants.

Ben's presence was a paradoxical mix of comfort and unease. He didn't fit the mold of a typical savior. Instead, he dressed as Link from "The Legend of Zelda," but with a menacing twist. His eyes, though usually kind, occasionally took on a sinister aspect. I could have sworn I saw them bleed dark, unnatural hues, but I had no choice but to trust him.

Despite the unsettling appearance, he was my protector, my only source of safety in this terrifying ordeal. The cabin's ominous atmosphere still pressed in on us, but Ben's dedication to my well-being was unwavering. I knew I had to rely on him to navigate this bizarre and dangerous situation.

Gently, Ben wiped away the stray noodle from my chin and carefully lifted my head, his eyes meeting mine with an affectionate smile. "Uwaaa, you're so pretty, Y/n," he murmured to himself, and a playful smirk danced on his lips as he used his thumb to wipe away the excess liquid from the noodles on my lip.

Shades of red crept onto my cheeks as his compliment caught me off guard. In the midst of this unsettling situation, his unexpected words had the power to momentarily shift my focus. Our eyes locked, and there was a moment of connection that transcended our peculiar circumstances.

Despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded us, there was a connection born out of shared experiences and the necessity to lean on one another in a time of distress.

"I don't think this is the time to think this..." I whispered, my voice hushed, my appearance far from my best. My hair hung in disheveled tangles, clinging to my forehead and neck. My clothes, stained and rumpled from days of wear, clung uncomfortably to my body, and I was acutely aware of the persistent, unpleasant odor of sweat that clung to me. After being confined in this place for so long, I'd grown accustomed to the smell, even though it was a constant reminder of my predicament.

The mirror in the corner of the room reflected a disheveled figure with heavy bags under my eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights spent in fear and uncertainty. My cheeks were puffy, the result of countless tears shed during my moments of weakness. It was a stark reminder of the emotional rollercoaster that had become my life.

Though Ben's comment had momentarily distracted me, the harsh reality of our situation quickly snapped me back. In this confined space, our survival depended on our wits and resilience, not on trivial concerns like appearances or personal hygiene.