Masked Insanity (Harry Styles)

Chapter 1

FLASHBACK

"Scarlett!" a voice boomed from the living room. I simply placed the earbuds in ears, pretending I hadn't heard.

"SCARLETT!" I gulped, fear coursing through my veins, but my resolve didn't fade. I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against my headboard stubbornly. There was no way I was obeying that vile woman, not after what she did to me.

Footsteps echoed off my bedroom walls, my heart pounding faster with each step. I harshly gripped the fabric of my shirt, trying to cease the shaking in my fingers. I winced as my door contacted the wall with an ear-splitting crash. I scrunched my eyes shut, too terrified to see what was coming.

My earbuds were yanked out of my ear, and the weight of the mp3 player on my lap disappeared. My eyes snapped open in panic, and I recoiled at the sight before me. Ms. Beilhart had lowered herself to my level until her and I were face to face. Her yellowing eyes were bulging with anger, and her face was redder than usual. She was clutching my most prized possession in her gnarly fingers.

"Why were you not replying when I called you?" she asked with fake sweetness. Her putrid breath washed over my face, making my stomach turn in revulsion.

"I didn't hear you," I replied calmly. I needed to keep my cool if I were to ever see my precious mp3 player ever again.

She raised her hand and swung her palm across my face. My head was snapped to the side, and the stinging in my cheek brought tears to my eyes. "LIAR!" she screamed. I clutched the searing side of my face and slowly turned my head to face her. I watched in horrror as she brought back the arm that was holding the mp3 player.

"No!" I jumped off the bed and clung to her arm desperately. After several attempts to free herself from my grip, she kicked my ribs in frustration. My hands flew to my stomach, and I fell to the ground, gasping for air. She grinned down at me evilly, satisfied by the pain she was causing me. 

All while maintaining eye contact, she swung her arm forward, tossing my mp3 player forward with as much force as she could muster. It was as if time slowed as I watched it soar through the air, until its flight was cut short by bedroom wall. It crashed into the solid stone, breaking into millions of tiny pieces. For a moment, I forgot about the pain in my abdomen. I stood up and tried to run over to the pile of fragments, but something took hold of my shirt, stopping me. 

"Not so fast," Ms. Beilhart tsked, yanking me back onto the ground. I curled into a ball, burying my head into my chest as I saw her shoe come down towards me. Her foot came down onto my exposed shoulders and back, stomping on my body with the heel of her shoe repeatedly. It felt like I was being ground into powder, my already sore bones barely holding up. My back bent inwards with a sickening crack, and I emitted a scream of agony.

"Please, stop!" I begged, the tears rolling down my face. I bit down on my bottom lip, to refrain myself from screaming again. She didn't relent one bit, beating me until black spots began to cloud my vision. 

When she finally stopped, I couldn't even lift myself off the ground. I was completely paralyzed, and it felt like every single bone in my body was broken. 

"It's about time you learned your place!" she screamed, cackling loudly, "disobey me one more time, and I assure you, you won't see the light of day ever again. I'll make sure of it." With that, she sauntered out of my room, her laughter sounding all the way from the living room.

"And you can forget about dinner!" she called out. I wasn't expecting as  much. I tried to push myself off the ground, but the stabbing pain in my side brought me back down with a shaky cry. My silent tears had turned into hysterical sobs as I lay there, fervently wishing I was dead so I didn't have to endure this pain. 

When I realized that getting up was futile, I shut my eyes and tried to lull myself to sleep with dreams of the day I would get to leave this place.

                                                                              ---

I shook my head at one of my worst memories of my time at the orphanage. I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, trying to rid my head of the dreadful thoughts.

They had called me in extra early today. Usually, I would have pretended like I didn't see the page and just come in at 9 'o clock , but Mr. Harley had said it was urgent. My curiosity had gotten the best of me, so I here I was, driving to work at 6:30 AM in the freezing cold.

I pulled into the station parking lot and removed my key from the ignition. The chilly winter air hit my face when I opened my car door. I pulled my jacket closer to body in an attempt to cease my shivering. "This better me worth it," I muttered to myself as I made my way to the main headquarters office. When I arrived, what seemed to be the entire department looked up at me expectantly. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Scar, it's so nice of you to join us. Please, have a seat," Mr. Harley said, patting the leather chair at his side.

"Um, sure..." I responded hesitantly and slowly sat next to him.

He cleared his throat and sat up straight. "So, as you know, we've been recently investigating two consecutive murder cases in London, England," he began.

"Yes, I've been well aware of this," I replied. The random and mysterious killings in the less populated area of London had been the talk of the station for about a month now.

"Well, I am pleased to inform you that my best officers got a lead. It seems that both victims, Abigail Jones and Lucas Roberts, attended the same high school and were attending the same university at the time of their murder," Mr. Harley announced. The whole room started buzzing with trepidation. Mr. Harley raised up his hand, and the office became silent again.

"Okay, so why am I here again?" I asked unsurely.

"I'm getting to that," he reprimanded. "So it seems that wherever we look, all signs point towards the same three people: Harry Styles, John Carter, and Eliza Binnz, but we can't search them or arrest them beause we don't have sufficient evidence." His face broke into a smile. "And that's where you come in."

"Go on," I said calmly, trying to hide my anticipation.

"We can't go in with the entire force, close down the college, and begin questioning everyone. That would attract a lot of unwanted attention. So we need someone to work from the inside; befriend the suspects, infiltrate their social groups, and dig up their secrets. We need someone young who could fit in with college students... someone like you," he finished with a large grin on his face.

"What exactly are you asking me to do?" I questioned, my mind unable to process his words.

"I'm asking you to assume a fake identity. From this point onward, you are no longer Scarlett Griffin. You are now Hazel Morgan, a 19-year old college student at the University of London. We are all counting on you to gather enough evidence to incriminate one or all of these people. Do you think you're up to it?" Mr. Harley asked me, eyebrows raised.

The room erupted once more into excited chattering. I noticed that my jaw had been hanging open during the last part of his speech. I immediately clamped it shut and sheepishy looked around the room. Everyone was looking at me expectantly.

"So, are you gonna do it or what?" Mr. Harley demanded, a little impatiently. My eyes widened a bit and the heat rose to my cheeks once again.

"Um, o-o-of course!" I stammered, "When do I start?"

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Hi guys! This is my first book, and feel free to criticize, my friend Abby and I are just trying this

~xoxoharrrystylesxoxo