Damned// Harry styles (MATURE CONTENT)

Chapter 32: Bodies

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I had been sitting in this disgusting room for far too long. I refused to eat, I denied Louis anytime he tried to speak to me, and I cried every tear left within me.

It's funny really, Louis told me he'd see me in a week. Not even two hours later he came back to apologize, only to find the room thrashed.

To say he was outraged was an understatement. He called me every name in the book, so much anger waltzed in his eyes.

This wasn't the Louis I had known. This was a complete monster. His eyes didn't go all black like Harry's, they went all red. The red that reminded me of a dead body on the street corner, dark blood pouring out of a gun wound.

I never thought I would miss the dark black abyss that Harry's eyes sometimes held. In a way, now that I think about it, it was a comforting color. It was safe. My entire world was black before I met him. When everything was black, I didn't have to see all of the horrors the world kept within its crust. I didn't have to see the blazing fury in his green eyes... all I saw was the sweet comfortable color of black.

Harry.

He was my black. He was what kept me safe. He held me in his darkness in such a glorious way. I was safe from everyone but him and I personally preferred it that way. He gave me sight, and yet he still had me in a blind hold. He was a black, warm cloud that ensconced me. A cloud that kept me safe.

No matter what anybody said, no matter how dangerous I knew he was... deep in my soul I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Ever.

"Stop thinking if that worthless bastard." Louis spat from behind me. I turned solemnly from my perch at the window.

"I love him, that is an impossible demand." I stated.

"You don't even know him. If you knew who he was before his damnation you would hate him." He chuckled.

"Damnation? That is the act of being condemned to burn in hell. Harry's a demon." I muttered confused.

"Tres bien. It means 'very good' in French. Anyway, yes your correct. Harry was supposed to go to hell, but the devil took interest in his mercilessness. So, he gave him the option of becoming a figure of pure evil. Something even more powerful then he. Yes, Harry could rip the devil to shreds. But he doesn't know that, or at least he didn't until you came along."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You. Your more powerful than you think. With the two of you... jesus, that would be hell."

"I... I don't understand."

"Harry is a demon of pure evil, he's the darkest being on this earth. You on the other hand, your light. Your completely innocent. You were the first person to ever be naïve enough to not be afraid of him. Your the only person to call him a monster. Do you know why he hates that word?" He questioned, moving closer to me. I was trembling now, my body quaking with confused waves of fear. Who was this man in front of me? This wasn't my Louis.

"No, I don't." I said.

"Then let me show you."

Before I could protest, his large hands wrapped around my waist and I was pulled into nothingness.

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I woke to find myself on a concrete floor. My head pounded relentlessly, and my body ached with every breath I took.

"Please... no." A weak voice cried. I looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. I vaguely realized I was in some sort of warehouse.

I was gazing around when I came up short. A tall figure in a trench coat stood over a small shaking figure. Strawberry blonde hair wrapped around her fragile face. Fear stabbed her blue eyes with knives of steel. Her hands were gathered up against her stomach, blood poured through her fingers.