Louis dragged himself out of the alley. His stomach was bleeding uncontrollably. He lifted up his shirt to see a deep gash just above his hipbone. He lightly brought his fingers down to the cut, but immediately regretted it. An immense pain shot into his stomach and the cut began to bleed even more.
He heard a shuffling sound and turned around quickly.
"Who's there?" He yelled into the dark alley.
He heard more shuffling before a dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. Something glinted in his hand and Louis immediately began to panic. He searched himself for a weapon, but came up empty handed. The man came into full view and smirked at Louis. The smirk was terrifying. Louis knew that he was going to die if he didn't get his hands on a weapon soon.
The dark man continued to make his was toward Louis, his smirk still plastered across his dirty face. Vulnerable and without a weapon, Louis came up with a plan. He knew that it had to work or else he would end up dead. He had to get the dark man's knife.
Louis suddenly lunged towards the large man and grabbed his knife. Pain pulsed in his stomach, but he pushed it aside; he had to be strong. He didn't think it was going to be so easy to get the man's knife. Then he felt a large weight drop onto his leg.
Louis cried out in pain.
The weight didn't let up. It was relentless.
The man laughed at Louis' pain. Louis couldn't take it any longer. The pain needed to end and he knew exactly how to end it. He swung his arm up and thrust the knife into the dark man's leg. Louis heard him scream and curse. The weight lifted off of Louis' leg and he immediately stood. He walked over to the man and pulled the knife out of his leg. He cried in pain once again.
"Don't do this, man." He cried out in terror.
Louis didn't respond, just loomed over this man with the large, bloody knife in his hand.
"This is your fault." Louis blamed the man and gripped the hilt of the knife as tight as he possibly could. He thrust the knife into the man's chest and twisted, like he always did, and then pulled it out.
The man's body laid limp on the damp asphalt and blood began to seep through his clothes and into the street.
Louis shot up out of bed with sweat coating him. He held his stomach to try and control his breathing, but flinched at the touch. He looked down to see a large bandage spread across his cut. It was in the same place that it had been in the dream.
How did that get there?
Louis swung his legs out of bed and stood up to walk, but immediately crumpled to the floor.
"Ah!" He yelled as pain shot up and down his leg.
He looked down to see a light green cast that adorned his leg up to his knee.
"What the hell?"
He looked around his room and then saw some crutches leaning in the corner. He crawled over to them, and, soon enough, he was in the kitchen eating some cereal thinking about how he could have gotten the same exact injuries that he got in his dream.
Louis turned his head to the stairs when he heard footsteps. He quickly got up and crutched out of the kitchen to find a tall, slender man rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and Louis began to panic.
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Injection • Louis Tomlinson a.uFanfiction
"Fight back!" He yelled in the victim's face. When he got no response, his pulse quickened and his vision became tinted with red. He hit harder and harder and harder, and with each hit, his anger swelled. "Fuck!" He finally yelled and stood up...