Help! I'm Having Twins With Harry Styles! But I Hate Him! Don't I?

Dun Dun Dun (that sinister sound) Brought To You By the Letter F

Already I could feel the evil fondling my skin, touching me inappropriately like an early paroled sex offender in a white van offering lollies to innocent children whose parents are too busy foolishly sipping their chai lattes and playing Candy Crush on their iPhones to pay attention to the impending doom about to befall their offspring.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I heard Gandalf shouting, fly you fools!

"Quickly," Harry said urgently, snatching my fingers and dragging me along at a flashing pace, so fast in fact that I could not differentiate the gorey, stirring faces.

We ran and ran and ran.

And ran and ran.

And ran some more, until our path was blocked.

There was a solid brick wall in front of us, and a fuming formation of ferocious and furious undead closing in behind us.

"We're trapped!" I cried, glancing from Harry, then the wall, to the flagitious mob of fumbling zombies.

"There must be a way out," Harry breathed, running his hands over the bricks until, with a firm shove, one of them gave way beneath the ministrations of his forthright efforts.

It caused the tunnel to rumble and shake like a 5.6 magnitude earthquake at a depth of 3.14 kilometres.

"OMG We're going to be buried alive!" I screamed above the fracas, but Harry wrapped his arms tightly around me.

"No, we're not," he whispered against the dishevelled bird's nest of my hair.

Then the floor gave way beneath us, and we both fell.

We slid again, clinging to one another, flailing in distress as we diminished in altitude, deeper and deeper into the stygian depths.

Freefall.

We dropped for at least twenty-four seconds through nothing but black, until we splashed into cold, fast moving water.

I tried to call out to Harry, but my mouth was filled with water and the tiny bacteria that was living in it.

Ew.

This is it, I thought, as the heavy weight of my gown pulled me under and held me there, I'm going to die a virgin.

My head began to swim, and even though there was already only the bubbling furore of the rapids and the frore water, it became darker still.

I don't know if I passed out, but there was suddenly a faint light and a change of speed. The water slowed and I found that I could touch the bottom.

Shivering as my eyes adjusted to my new surroundings, I realised that I was outside, being nudged along by a river that ran through a forest or fir trees.

As I dragged myself onto the fifteen-degree sloping incline of the bank, slowly, heavily, like a whale in a ten tonne tutu, I became panicked.

"HARRY!" I coughed, frantically scanning the water and the bank. "Where are you?"

The reply I received was quiet, not even words at all, just a gurgle.

"Oh no!" I cried, gathering the sopping weight of my skirt and running awkwardly to where Harry was lying face down in the mud. "You can't die!" I exclaimed, rolling him over. "How will One Direction go on without you AND Zayn when he dies of bronchioloalveolar carcinoma?"

Alas, what I then saw made my blood freeze within my veins.

It was cold.

The torch that he had so cleverly MacGyvered from whatever had just been laying around, had impaled him through the ribcage. Blood oozed slowly, staining his costume fire truck scarlet crimson and somewhat vermillion red.

"No!" I wept, not knowing what to do. "Harry, say something!"

"You have... to pull it out," he managed, forcing the words out.

"What? No!" I blubbered, like a freaked out teenager told she had to pull a twenty inch, pointed object from the body of arguably the most talented individual in the music industry. "I, I'll go and fetch help!"

"No time," he croaked, taking my wrist and guiding it to the shaft.

"Just, tug gently," he instructed, as I closed my fingers around it.

It was thicker than it looked, firm and erect.

Tentatively I gave it a moderate pull, but it was hard, hard and deeply embedded.

"I can't do this!" I admitted.

I was so afraid.

"You can," he murmured. "You must, or...or..."

His voice trailed off, floating faintly into the air where it was caught by the wind and ferried away.

"Harry?" I prompted, but he did not respond.

I gave his face a poke with my finger, but he did not move.

"I can do this," I coached, taking hold of the stake and yanking it out.

Harry let out a tremendous howl, his body convulsing so much that I fell back in the mud at the water's edge.

"Well, that was rud..." I began, but the air was crushed from my lungs as Harry pounced on me and pinned me down.

His eyes glowed a feral, yet somehow hauntingly beautiful peridot green, nailing me to the spot as surely as did the vice like grip he had on my wrists.

He was wild, I could see that, even as I struggled to get free, that he was not entirely in possession of his self control.

Then I saw them.

His lips parted slowly over his teeth, revealing a pair of razor sharp, pointed upper and lower cuspids.

"You're a vampire?!" I stammered, my heart fesinating.

He did not answer, just stared down at me like I was a double bacon cheeseburger deluxe. Still, he trembled, somehow caught between facinorous famishment and a felicificative desire to do me no harm.

"Please," I flagitated, ceasing my feckless attempts to escape, employing my feracious skills of persuasion to make him free me. "I had garlic for lunch!"

Despite this, there was nothing that I could do when Harry pressed his lips to my throat. The point of his teeth punctured my skin with alarming ease, and a pain resonated throughout my entire being, vibrating to every corner, crook and curve; my left big toe curled.

But it was fleeting.

Swiftly the agony subsided, and as he drew that salty vitae from my body, and was replaced with a different sensation. A thousand tiny hands caressed my skin, warm breaths of gentle desire that probed at every burning, passionate and entirely repressed sexual need I had ever entertained. Heat exploded like fire in my belly, spreading a quivering, lustful release to even the most hidden and guarded places of both my physical and psychological self.

My inner goddess cried out in glee, this totally counts as sex!

Then darkness once more.