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Your breath felt ragged as you lay against the mattress, your eyes burning with tears. You’re going to die here, that man upstairs is going to kill you, this is where it ends. You huddled your knees close to your chest, and imagined you were back home. You imagined you were snuggled under a blanket, that the TV was on, that you were laying with your boyfriend, just enjoying the time together. You were never going to see him again. Your chest hurt with all the emotion you were feeling, it felt like you were going to explode.
What would you say to him? If he were here, what would be your final words to him?
“I love you, I really do. I miss you so much right now and I would give anything to touch you again. I’m sorry for all the times I got angry or the times I acted distant. It all seems so small now, I just wish I was with you again,” your words echoed in the empty space. You imagined he was there in front of you, that he heard your words, that he understood your feeling. You took a shuddery breath and exhaled slowly. You slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight.
However, only a small amount of sunlight reached your eyes. In front of you stood a figure blocking the light coming from the window. Oh god, he’s here, it must be time.
“I’m not ready to die,” you whimpered quietly, covering your eyes again, to pretend it wasn’t real.
“You’re not going to die,” the figure said, but it wasn’t the voice you had expected. It wasn’t the scratchy voice of your captor, but instead the smooth voice of a young boy. You blinked your eyes open to reexamine the figure. The person kneeled close to you, their eyes level with yours. You sat up slightly to get a better look at them. A head of bloody, blonde curls framed the injured face of the teenage boy in front of you. You recognized him, the papers showed his picture for weeks after he went missing. Nobody ever said it but you all assumed the worst.
“Oh god, I really am losing it,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes with your palms before opening them again. There he still sat before you, Vance Hopper.
“Did you really mean it?” Vance asked, leaning closer to you. You looked at him confused. “When you said you loved me?” Oh. Vance thought your words were for him. You weren’t quite sure you had the heart to tell him they weren’t, not just because you didn’t want to make him sad but you were a little scared of him. You nodded hesitantly. Vance smiled widely, his eyes lighting up with joy.
“How are you here, I mean you’re-,” you hesitated, trying to figure out how to word it.
“I’m what?” Vance asked, furrowing his brow slightly. Did he not know? Couldn’t he remember? You figured dying might be hard to forget.
“You’re supposed to be back home,” you said hurriedly, trying to fill in the gap.
“Oh, I’m not sure, I guess I’m just here,” Vance said, his tone light.
Something about Vance confused you. You had barely known him in life, you had only glanced at each other maybe a couple of times, and now here he was, gladly accepting a love confession that wasn’t even meant for him. Vance stared up into your face, his eyes concerned.
“You’re still crying,” he said sadly, standing up and wiping a tear from your cheek. You hadn’t even realized it, but he was right. You were crying. “Why are you so sad?” He asked, sitting down next to you. Did Vance really not realize the gravity of the situation?
“I don’t want to die here,” you said quietly.
“You’re not gonna die,” Vance said hurriedly. He leaned forward and cupped your face with his hands, you shuddered at the odd feeling. It felt like a pair of cold hands were barely grazing over your cheek.
When night arrived, you heard the door to the basement open. You stiffened in your place and Vance leaned against the wall in the corner, his face going dark. Pushing open the door was the man you has seen before. His face was obscured by a mask with a large smile, it was extremely unsettling.
“I thought you might want something to eat,” the man said, setting down a tray next to the door. You looked nervously between him and the food. “Eat it if you like.” With that, he went back to the stairs and closed the door behind him. You listened for the foreboding sound of the door locking, but it didn’t come. You furrowed your brow as you looked at Vance.
“Did he,” you started. “He didn’t lock the door.”
“You should eat,” Vance said, interrupting your thought. “I don’t know if you’ll get food again.” Your thoughts of the unlocked door were replaced by thoughts of food. Your horror at your situation had obscured your feelings of hunger which had now become apparent.
You cautiously got up and approached the tray on the ground by the door. You sat down on the floor by it and examined the plate. It was eggs and they sat next to an open bottle of soda. You picked up a piece of the food and nervously smelled it. It smelled fine, just like normal eggs. You placed the piece into your mouth, chewed quickly, and swallowed. You breathed deeply and began to eat the eggs in front of you, trying to satiate your hunger. When you were halfway finished, you looked up and saw Vance leaning against the wall, staring at you. You picked up a piece of held it out to him, an attempt to be kind. He shook his head and pointed at you. With Vance’s declining, you continued to eat the food.
When you had finished, you grabbed the bottle of soda on the tray and sipped at it. You stood up and walked back to the mattress on the other side of the room. You sat on the edge, sipping at the soda and thinking. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Vance wander over and sit next to you. When you finished the soda bottle, you set it down on the floor and looked at Vance.
“He didn’t lock the door,” you said again. “This is my chance, he fucked up, and now I have a chance.” You laughed in disbelief. Vance stiffened beside you.
“No, no, you don’t,” he said with a mildly upset tone. “It’s not real.”
“What do you mean, of course, it’s real,” you said, gesturing to the door. “He did forget to lock it so I could just go.”
You walked forward and grabbed the door handle. You saw Vance grab your wrist more than you felt it.
“Please, Y/N,” he said softly. This was the first time he had said your name. “I don’t want what’s waiting up there to happen to you.” You looked at Vance with confusion.
“What does that mean,” you said, tone a bit shorter than you intended. “What’s up there?” At this point, you had pulled the door open and were staring up at the stairs. Vance looked towards the landing and then at you.
“Him,” he said straightforwardly. “He’s gonna hurt you, bad enough you’ll wish you’d just pass out so it could be over. You never pass out soon enough.” He sounded upset as he walked over to the mattress and sat down on it, looking at the wall.
You looked up the stairs.
“Promise you’re not lying to me?” You asked Vance, hesitation in your voice as you looked at him. He nodded at you sadly. You sighed deeply and closed the door. You wandered over and layed down next to Vance.
“I know,” he said, his voice understanding. “I’m sorry it’s not real.”
“It’s not your fault,” you said, your chin trembling slightly. Vance lay down next to you, thinking.
“Ask me anything you want,” he said, you looked slightly confused at his sudden offer. “I wanna try to cheer you up.” You smiled slightly.
“Alright then, did you really like pinball as much as people said? I mean they called you Pinball Vance,” you laughed slightly as you asked. Vance smiled at your laughter.
“It was my absolute favorite,” he responded, rolling onto his back to reminisce. “I would spend hours at the Grab N Go tryin’ to reach my high score. It never got old no matter how many times I played it.” When you were laying next to him like this, you thought his smile looked oddly beautiful. “Anything else?”
“Is your hair like this naturally or did you curl it,” you asked, one of your hands going to try to play with Vance’s curls. Again, it felt like they were almost there.
“Nah, it’s curled. My mom’s been getting me perms since like 6th grade. It doesn’t really look that bad so I just roll with it,” he responded, turning his head slightly to look at you twirling your finger in his hair. “Why, you like it?” He smiled jokingly.
“Totally, absolutely obsessed,” you joked back.
“Anything else?” There was a question on your mind, but you felt it was too intense, so you only half asked.
“Do these still hurt?” You asked, gesturing to the injuries on Vance’s face. Vance’s bloody face had really put you off at first, but you had gotten used to it. Vance brought a hand up to his face and grazed his fingers over the cut on his nose.
“Not really,” he responded. “They used to, but I don’t really notice them anymore.”
“That’s good, I suppose,” you said, your eyes looking at all the blood covering Vance.
“Does it make me look super badass?” He smiled, flexing his arms as he lay next to you. This elicited a laugh from you.
“Super badass,” you replied.
“I know it feels weird, but you should sleep,” Vance said, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at you.
“You’re right,” you responded. “It does feel weird.”
“I’ll be here the whole time, so you don’t have to worry about that guy coming in here while you’re asleep,” Vance said, trying his best to comfort you.
“Don’t you need to sleep?” You asked, looking up at him.
“I don’t really feel tired, so staying up shouldn’t be too hard, just a little boring,” he laughed. You look at him with a nervous look in your eyes. “Come here,” Vance said, holding out his arms to you.
You scooched closer to him and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as you lay on the mattress. Even though you could only half feel his cold skin, the mere idea of having someone else there with you was comforting. Your face was nestled in the crook of his neck, there was the slight smell of blood and a sandalwood-scented cologne. You closed your eyes as you leaned into the ghostly touch.
“I love you,” Vance said quietly into your ear. Oh…yeah. You had forgotten about that part in all of the stress of today.
“I love you too,” you whispered back. It felt so wrong lying about this sort of thing. Not only did it feel like you were cheating, it felt like you were hurting Vance like you were using him, which when you thought about it, you were. You huddled closer into Vance, trying to forget what you were feeling.
When you awoke the next morning, Vance was no longer laying with you. You looked to the edge of the bed and saw him sitting.
“Vance?” You asked with a sleepy voice. He turned to you. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Watching,” he responded, looking at the door. You sat up and moved to sit next to him. By the door, you saw the shattered glass of the green soda bottle you had been given the day before.
“What happened?” You asked. Vance looked at you and followed your gaze to the broken bottle. Vance’s gaze darkened as he looked at it.
“He tried to come in here last night,” he responded with a slightly angry tone. Vance saw you stiffen next to him, fear on your face. “But don’t worry, I got rid of him easily enough.” You relaxed slightly.
“I hope he’s not too mad,” you said quietly. “He’s scary enough when he’s not.”
“I’ll be here the whole time,” Vance assured you again. “I got a bit more fight in me than that.”
You leaned your head on Vance’s shoulder and looked at the door nervously. He wrapped his arm around you, resting his elbow on your shoulder and his hand in your hair.
“I wonder if I’ll ever get out of here,” you said quietly, the thought escaping your lips before you could filter it. You could see Vance turn his head down to look at you. You angled your head to meet his eyes. A thoughtful look crossed his face.
“Would it be so bad if you didn’t?” He asked. “You could stay here with me.” You pulled away from Vance and looked at him with a furrowed brow.
“Why would you say that?” You asked, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Just think about it, we could be here together, just us. Would that really be so bad?” Vance smiled at you with pleading eyes. Did he realize what he was implying?
The rest of the day was spent with a palpable tension between the two of you. You could tell Vance was upset, and you were too, but for very different reasons. Vance thought you were abandoning him, that you disliked him and wished to leave him. You were upset because, even though it was unknowingly, Vance was asking you to give up your life. You didn’t see the man again that day, not to bring you food or even just to stand in the doorway, which you were semi grateful for. You sat on the mattress and watched Vance stand in the middle of the room, looking out the small window.
“Can I ask you more questions?” You asked him, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Vance looked at you with calm eyes.
“Sure,” he replied, walking over to you and sitting next to you on the mattress.
“So,” you said, thinking of a good question. “What’s your favorite animal?” You knew it was a rather tame question, but tame is what the two of you needed right now.
“Probably a tiger or something, I like their colors,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “What about you?” You thought for a second before replying.
“Probably a panda, I think. I like the black and white, and I would love to just lounge around all day,” you laughed at the thought. Vance sat and waited for your next question.
“What did your bedroom look like? Mine had grey walls and some music posters, and I always had two fans pointed at me cause my room got really hot,” you said, answering your own question to provide context.
“Oh, lemme think. It was white, I had a couple of movie posters, but other than that, the walls were empty. It was always super messy though, I really don’t like cleaning,” he said, smiling at the memories.
“Do you wanna ask me anything?” You offered. Vance thought for a moment.
“Not really,” he said. “I like answering your questions more than asking them.” There was another question you wanted to ask Vance, but that would wait until later. You and Vance did your best to come up with other ways to fill the time, ways for this to feel normal. You played 20 questions, talked about your favorite movies and music, and just sat in silence. Vance was starting to grow on you. He made you smile in a place where happiness seemed impossible. You were thankful for that.
As the sun began to set outside the small window, you could see a reminiscent look in Vance’s eyes.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about,” you asked, interrupting his thoughts.
“I like watching the sunset,” he replied. “It always calms me down when I feel mad or something.” You couldn’t see the sunset very well from here, so you could tell Vance was remembering more than seeing. “You tired?” He turned around to examine your face.
“Kinda, but not super,” you replied. The thought of sleeping brought a yawn up to your throat, which you unsuccessfully repressed. Vance smiled at the contradiction.
“Yeah you are, come on,” he sighed happily, laying down on the mattress and patting the spot next to him. You crawled up the mattress and lay your body down next to him.
You lay on your side, facing him. Vance felt your eyes and turned to face you.
“What’s up,” he asked quietly, searching your eyes.
“Can I ask you one last question?” You asked, it was time. Vance nodded.
“How did you get here?” Vance opened his mouth but didn’t respond. His brow furrowed as he thought. “Take your time, it’s ok.” Vance rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. “Good night, Vance.” You snuggled into his cold side and closed your eyes.
The sunlight shining through the window awoke you from your dreams. You blinked your eyes open, adjusting to the light. Once again, Vance wasn’t lying next to you, but instead, sat at the foot of the bed. You sat up, yawned, and shuffled down the mattress to sit next to him. You looked up at his face. His red eyes and raw cheekbones showed he had been crying.
“Vance?” You said quietly, trying not to disturb him too much. He glanced at you, you could see tears forming in his eyes again.
“Y/N,” he said in a raw voice. “I think I know the answer to your question.” You looked at him sadly. You reached out and took his hand in yours, he squeezed it.
“It wasn’t for me, was it?” he asked, the tears in his eyes falling down his cheek.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“You weren’t saying you loved me, or that you missed me, you probably didn’t even know me, did you?” He said, his voice starting to break. Your eyes grew sad as you had to admit it.
“No, it wasn’t, I’m sorry Vance,” you apologized. “That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy your company, or that I don’t appreciate that you’re here. I don’t think I could have done this alone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, about what I am, Y/N?” He asked, glancing at you before looking back at the ground.
“I don’t know, really. When I saw you didn’t know, it felt impossible to be the one to break that news. If I had more courage, I probably would have told you,” you responded, leaning towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Vance. You didn’t deserve this.” You could feel Vance shake as he cried.
“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn’t realize what I was asking you,” he choked out. “Just because I did, doesn't mean you have to die here. I love you, but you don’t belong here with me, not now.” You felt your own tears forming as Vance spoke.
“I wish I had known you more, maybe I could have loved you like you deserve,” you said, turning your head to press a kiss to his shoulder.
“I’m gonna get you out of here, I swear on whatever life I have left in me,” Vance cried, turning his body to hold you.
“I doubt that’s possible at this point,” you sighed, holding onto the front of Vance’s shirt.
“Well, you’re not dying, I’m damn sure of that. I’ll think of something,” Vance sniffled, laying his cheek in your hair.
The first half of this day was spent in silence. Vance sat on the wall, thinking silently. You sat on the bed, doing your best to entertain yourself. You looked over occasionally, trying to see a change in Vance’s expression. When the sun had assumed its noon position in the sky, Vance stood up.
“I think I know what to do,” he said as he walked over to sit by you. “When he leaves the door unlocked tonight, I’ll go up first and I’ll distract him. While he’s gone, you’ll go. I’m already dead, there’s not much he can do if he catches me.” Vance’s plan was simple, yet seemed like it would work.
“It’s not that simple,” you heard a high-pitched voice behind you say. You whipped your head around quickly to see the small form of a boy with a bloody, slit throat. You quietly screamed.
“Oh my goodness, you scared me,” you said, a little out of breath.
“There’s a lock on the door upstairs, you can’t just leave,” the boy said, his eyes wide but emotionless.
“A key lock?” You asked. You glanced over at Vance, who seemed transfixed by the other boy.
“A combination,” the boy responded. “It used to be my bike lock.”
“If it was yours, you should know the combination, right?” You asked with a hopeful voice.
“I don’t remember it,” he said with a level voice. Defeat crushed the hope in your face. “But when I did know it, I wrote it down.” He slowly pointed to the wall opposite you, to a spot in the middle. You looked at the boy before getting up to examine the wall. Indeed, scratched into the wall, were five numbers. “I don’t remember the sequence.”
“That’s ok, this is all I need,” you said, with a thankful voice. You turned to the boy and gave him a grateful smile. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.
When you looked back at Vance, you saw he still had a look of shock on his face.
“How were you so calm about that?” He said quieter than normal.
“I’ve been livin’ with you for the past couple of days, got used to it,” you laughed, trying to cheer him up. Vance smiled with an exhale from his nose. “It sounds like we got a plan.”
With this plan in mind, you and Vance waited until the sunset to begin. You recited the code ‘23317’ until it was engrained in your brain.
“I don’t know how much time I can buy you, so you’ll have to be as quick as you can. I’ll try to meet you by the door to see you out,” Vance said, leaning close to you. You nodded. You stood up and grabbed the handle of the door. You pulled and it opened. You nodded to Vance again. He stood and walked over to you. He reached his hand up and brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Hope to see you soon,” he said softly with a smile. With that, he walked past you and up the stairs. “You’ll know your cue when you hear it.”
After a few seconds, you heard a loud crashing quickly followed by quick footsteps overhead rushing away. You took this as your cue. You ran up the stairs as quickly as you could. You paused before the corner and looked around it carefully. Sure enough, the chair at the top of the stairs was empty. You ran up the remaining stairs and past the chair. At the end of the hallway on the left sat the beautiful sight of the front door. You took a deep breath and ran towards it. You pulled open the door and saw the combination lock.
‘23317’ played in your head as you tried the possible combinations. ‘2-33-17’, nope. ‘23-3-17’, no. By process of elimination, the last one had to be it. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tried to not waste the precious time Vance gave you. With a shuddering breath, you turned the lock. ‘23-31-7’. The lock clicked open with a quiet snap. You hurriedly took the lock off and threw it to the ground, you would revel in your victory later. With the lock off, you opened the screen door into the night. You turned around, hoping to see Vance behind you.
As he promised, there he stood. With so much to say and so little time, you decided to express your feelings in a gesture. You grabbed the sides of Vance’s face and pulled him down to you. You took a breath and pressed your lips to his. Vance let out a quiet gasp of surprise, tensing slightly before relaxing into you, gently holding your wrist. You pulled away slightly, taking in the view of Vance’s wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
“I love you, Vance. I wish I had time to love you more,” you said with a shaking voice as tears began to run down your face.
“Until the next life,” he sighed with a sad smile. With that, you stepped back, and Vance pushed the door closed.