Killing You (Ziall)

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Zayn's resolve broke a little after he finished patching Niall up. All the while he was playing the part of the doctor, he kept thanking his lucky stars that before he'd been approached by Big Boss for his new "job", he'd been attending Uni in hopes of becoming a doctor one day. Funny how things like that work, really. One day hoping to save lives, and the next willingly taking them. Zayn could've laughed out loud at the thought if he weren't covered in Niall's blood at the moment.

He remembered his promise--or threat, rather-- of killing Niall, but after nearly losing the boy by someone else's hands, nursing him back to health couldn't hurt anything, could it? Still slightly in a daze, Zayn decided he'd care for the boy, but just until he was well again. Then Zayn could resume the fun of killing his Task slowly.

After he was finished dressing the wound, Zayn gathered the small boy into his arms and carried him bridal style up the dusty basement stairs. Without really thinking, Zayn ended up in his own bedroom.

Just until he gets better, Zayn promised himself.

He sighed and gently laid an unconscious Niall on one side of his unmade bed. He remembered from his beginners' medical classes that it was important to keep stabbing victims warm, so he pulled the fluffy grey duvet over the fragile-looking boy's body and tucked him in. It was already dark outside, so Zayn drew the blinds closed to block out the bright glow of the moon and stripped to his boxers, getting ready for bed. He slipped under the covers, careful not to touch Niall and almost instantly drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Zayn awoke at half eight, much earlier than usual for him. The sleep had cleared his head considerably, and for that he was thankful. Zayn sat up in bed and stretched his arms lazily, only to have them bump something warm. And not the kind of warmth from slept-in sheets, either. This was more of a radiating warmth-- a human warmth.

He jumped out of bed quickly, nearly face-planting when his ankle got caught in the sheets, and stared at the company lying face-up in his bed.

Oh, shit! he thought to himself. No, no, no, no! What had he done?!

Zayn ran his hand up and down his stubbly face. What the hell had he been thinking? He was supposed to kill his tasks, not invite them into his bed!

Suddenly, the rage returned and Zayn felt the need to break something. He stormed out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. On the window ledge sat a red blown-glass plate with swirls of other colours running through the middle. It had been a gift from his wealthy boss, probably a "well-done" for some high-profile Task, but Zayn couldn't remember anymore.

For some reason, the bright early morning sun shining through the decoration enraged the killer and he stalked over to it, plucking it from its perch. Before he knew what had happened, the plate was on the floor, shattered to bits. The shards of glass looked to be blood-covered to Zayn's delirious mind and he let out a piercing scream.

He needed to kill.

*****

Niall awoke to an ear-shattering scream and bright sunlight shining directly into his eyes. He bolted upright and let out a shriek of pain, clutching his abdomen which was now burning immensely. He ripped the fluffy duvet off of him and gasped at the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his bare stomach.

Damn it, he was still alive!

Niall pinched his arm as hard as he could.

Yep, definitely still alive because that fucking hurt!

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around. Where was he? Had he been rescued? Who had dressed his wound? This definitely didn't look like a hospital room.