Following Anarchy (A One Direction horror fiction)

Following Anarchy - Introduction

“I’ll be back in just a mo’, love,” Harry said as he stepped out of the back door to the Rising Sun Pub, the cold air hitting his face with all of the force it could muster. He was only leaving the side of his wonderful Louis to take a quick smoke, something Louis didn’t actually take part in. Of course, that was alright since he still had Zayn, Niall, and Josh inside, while Harry had seen Dan slip outside just a few moments before, presumably to have a smoke himself.

Once outside, Harry was surprised to find that no one else was standing around doing the same; whenever they had come here in the past, there had always been a group of at least three or four people standing by the back door, fags in hand. Now there was no one.

But what really worried him was the fact that he couldn’t see Dan anywhere.

The building was long, and as Harry quickly walked past the wall with the mural, his curly hair whipping around his forehead in the wind, the dim light that cast over the small grassy hillock to his right created an eerie image. He suddenly felt the need to run, but after only a few paces at this increased speed, something caught his toe and he felt himself tumbling head over heels before laying, sprawled out on his stomach.

Scooting onto his elbows, he forced himself back into a somewhat upright position and glanced behind himself to see what had tripped him up. When he did, his breath caught in his throat, stifling the scream that attempted to rip out of his mouth.

Sitting slumped against the wall, his legs sticking out in front of him, was Dan, his short light-brown hair plastered to his forehead by something sticky. His head was sagging, his chin resting against his chest, almost as if he was sleeping, but Harry knew better. Even without any true light, he could see Dan’s light blue button-up shirt soaked with dark red liquid around the collar that was still dripping down his front.

Harry didn’t move any closer, keeping his distance instead, but he also didn’t run for help; he was frozen stiff with terror. If his mind had been working logically, he would have thought about the fact that whoever had done this might still be around, but he wasn’t, so he didn’t.

He sat there, staring, unable to move or speak, until someone from the pub found him and Dan’s body and called for help.