Evil Folio. That’s it that’s the message
pt. 2 here I think Folio would be evil in a terrifyingly normal way. You'd think he's safe - the one guy you'd choose over the bear - until he gains your full trust. Evil Folio has an apartment in his basement. He claims it's for future renters, because the economy is shit and even though he could afford to buy a house now, he'd probably have to get a tenant to help with his mortgage. He's not gonna raise the cost, of course, and he'll cover utilities. The tenant just needs to know that once Folio's mortgage is paid, they're out. The only downside to this beautiful space (aside from the lack of windows, which Folio supplements with screens that mimic daylight) is the fact that the only way in or out is through the front door. No separate entrance. At least, that's the story he tells. When he dumps your barely-conscious body onto the couch, you barely register the imitation lights, or that you've gone below ground. He doesn't need restraints to keep you down, because he'd fed GHB into your drink and covered it with the hit of wax he'd immediately goaded you into taking after. You're no stranger to sleeping on his couch but when you wake, it's not to the TV softly playing the cartoons he left for you or to the sunlight peeling through the shitty blinds that came with his house. You're cold, alone, only his fleece-lined John Deere hoodie lying on the chair across to keep you warm. You'd never noticed it before, but there are chains on the door up the stairs. And. You'd told your mom, your friends, *everyone* that you meant to go on vacation with these hours time off you've requested. Maybe it's a prank. Maybe it's not. But all you know is your best friend has locked you up in his basement, and you're not sure when you'll be able to leave. The chain locked to your left ankle tells you half the story.