Trapped In A Horror Movie AU (One Direction/Niall Horan) ✔

Chapter 8 [Niall]

Zayn and I were running back downstairs to that room where we saw what we thought was the killer. We were looking at the floor, trying to find the huge dried blood blots that turned into the room. By now, we were running on pure adrenaline and fear. We had went from walking through the mansion to running to save all of our lives. Zayn was a good length ahead of me, his head flying from side to side.

"Niall! I found it!" he shouted back to me, not even sounding like he was out of breath. I kicked it into high gear and sprinted the rest of the distance to where my friend was standing.

The door was cracked open just a sliver, but not enough to see inside. My stomach was doing back flips as I thought of the possible scenarios of what could be behind that bloody door raced through my mind. Zayn looked at me, his normally calm hazel eyes now completely consumed with terror. I couldn't imagine the look on my face was any different; I was trembling with the fear that all of us could die within a few hours...or minutes.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice trying not to shake. I nodded, very reluctant.

His tanned hand gripped around the brass knob and he flung it open. The figure was still sitting there. The figure started to shake and I heard whimpers coming from it. I put my arm in front of Zayn, stopping him from moving. The whimpers weren't girly sounding...they were almost manly. I flipped my palm over and Zayn set his phone in it. I shone it towards the target. The figure was shaking their head, most likely trying to get the hood off. It moved back a little, a lock of curly brown hair sticking out- Harry!

I hurried over to him, tripping over a few trinkets, and then I kneeled next to him, illuminating him. He looked at me with his clouded emerald eyes, pleading for me to set him free. He had streaks of tears down his cheeks, ending at the edge of the silver duct tape over his mouth. His forehead had blood running down, ending right above the edge of his right eyebrow. He was saying something and looking down at the duct tape, directing me there.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I'm going to rip it," I told him, picking at the small corner to get a somewhat good grip on it. Once I had it, I tore it off his mouth, watching more tears squeeze out of his eyes. I threw the tape on the ground and lifted the hood off his head the rest of the way.

"I t-thought I was g-going to d-die," Harry whimpered, his voice soft and broken.

"No, no, you weren't going to die. I wouldn't have let that happen," I reassured, trying to stay calm and collected. "Zayn, c'mere. I need your knife again."

Zayn quickly made his way to us, placing his knife in my hand. I turned Harry slightly, beginning to saw into the rope and duct tape that was weaved tightly around his wrists. Surprisingly, it took me less time to cut off Harry's than Zayn's. I had gotten through the wrist constraints and was now on his feet, which my shit luck had now made it difficult.

"Hold on, Haz. I almost got it," I told him, hearing his constant sniffles. Once I broke through, I took that black cloak off of him, seeing him in nothing but his dark jeans and Converse. His torso had smeared dirt and blood stains, making it look like the top half of him was in an action film.  "Harry, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"I don't know. Maybe she wanted to see my washboard abs," he said, his voice trembling, but he was still trying to be his cheeky self.

"Right, that's why she was going to murder you. She was going to kill you and then hang you on her bedroom wall so she could stare at your abs all day," Zayn said sarcastically. Harry rolled his eyes, muttering something inaudible.

"Can we just get out of here? I don't even care if I get my clothes back, I just want out," Harry requested.

"You and me both," I said, grabbing his hands and helping him stand up.