Reverse Stockholm Syndrome Novels & Stories

Before he lost everything he loved. Before everything had been taken from him. He hated his life. Every moment of every day, he longed for things that he'd never get again. Freedom. Peace. Love. Companionship. All gone. Sofia didn't say anything. In fact, she didn't say anything for long. She merely sat in silence beside him until her presence grew unbearable. “You can't love me, can you? You know, for being a vampire, I have a really bad case of Stockholm Syndrome,” Sofia said quietly.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ [A brief history of Stockholm Syndrome] The term Stockholm Syndrome began to be used by the media after a robbery at the Kreditbanken bank, Norrmalmstorg, Stockholm, in 1973. On the day of the robbery (August 23, 1973), a fugitive from the safe-breaking named Jan-Erik Olsson wandered in downtown Stockholm, Sweden. At that time Olsson was carrying a sub-machine gun hidden under his jacket. Unfortunately, no one expected Olsson to walk into the Kreditbanken building and shoot bullets at the ceiling shouting, "The party has started!"

Back at my apartment, I took a long shower, trying to wash away the last traces of his scent. But in the middle of the night, I started running a fever. I was freezing, my joints ached, and it felt like I had the flu. I knew what this was—an Omega stress syndrome. The symptoms that appear when your body rejects a former Alpha's scent. I curled up in bed, unable to sleep all night. The next morning, I was draped over the sofa with a splitting headache when Charlie rang the doorbell. "Sophia?" His voice came through the door, laced with worry. "I'm just dropping off the revisions for yesterday's design."

my own wolf is mocking me now. I don’t find him hideous, that’s a given. A blind female would find him... But he is holding me and my sister here against our will. And one way to overcome this Stockholm Syndrome is to see my sister, to set a clear path of freeing both of us. My sister’s sight tortured in silver chains is enough to make him a monster in my eyes. I get up from the comfortable couch overlooking the lake and I go straight to my room. I dress in the warm clothes I never asked but were brought to me anyway and I cross the passage to the pack-house.

"I honestly thought I was falling in love with him." Viktor watched me carefully. "What was I thinking?" I scoffed. "It was Stockholm syndrome." I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Talk about embarrassing." His grin widened. "There she is." He said, “My daughter.” "I don't know what came over me," I continued. "Maybe being locked up for weeks with him messed with my head." "It did." "I actually convinced myself there was some good in him." I laughed again. "What an idiot I was. And what an even bigger idiot he was for thinking that whatever we shared was real.”

I paled as I thought about how I had met every one of his thrusts, even going so far as riding him when I claimed him as mine. What had I been thinking? I am human. I can't claim anyone, let alone a Beast. What must he think of me? I didn’t want him. I had only participated so that he wouldn’t hurt me. I was tired of being punished. I was afraid of it. I was–I wiggled all ten of my toes. I hated that my lies weren’t believable now. I hated that for days, I had wanted nothing more than to be close to him. I was starting to think that I had Stockholm Syndrome. It was the only viable reason for wanting to be near him.

I walked into the road and I was amazed at the colours that greeted me, the city was so alive and bright. I almost bumped into someone and they apologised first. It was a culture shock, considering where I lived for all my life, I definitely would’ve been cussed out for it.

He sat, his eyes narrowed, waiting for the corporate lie. “Forget the money, forget the hockey contract, forget Julian Drake for a minute,” I began, leaning forward, keeping my voice soft, persuasive, and utterly serious. “What is happening to you, Logan, is not a simple physical recovery. It is a biological reaction to a very rare, entirely human phenomenon.” He scoffed. “A phenomenon? You think I’m stupid? You broke my wrist, and now I’m having super-strength because I’m stressed. That’s a medical explanation, not a phenomenon.”

I shook my head, struggling with my mental state, "I think I am getting sick or going insane." "It might be due to the torture. My advice is to cooperate with my boss and give him what he needs. It would save both of us from this never ending ordeal. I am getting tired of cleaning you up every day." Rukky said. “I wish I could, but I have told you repeatedly that I don’t have the information your boss wants. I wish there was a way to make you believe me.” With a wry smile, I confessed, "I think I might be developing Stockholm syndrome."