disclaimer: there's a lot of violence in here, including gun use.
'Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me'
*
Harry
'You're being too heavy handed, little gem!'
To this I only receive a handful of spinach thrown into my face.
This is the first moment of complete ease we've had between ourselves. Atlas is finally starting to return to her old self, or rather the closest thing to it. After losing her father, I don't think it's possible for that woman to reappear, she's forever changed by it. He was her best friend; I doubt she'll ever get over never seeing him again. Especially after the revelations that came before his death, and since clearing his stuff out.
Our role in this heist is far greater than anyone could have anticipated. It's not just a fun project to undermine the corrupt authority figures of the country. This has been ingrained in our blood from the moments we were born. A legacy created by our fathers and forced upon us without even realising it. Now we're in imminent danger, and there's nothing we can do about it.
Somehow, we haven't thought much about it in the past few days, our minds preoccupied with becoming reacquainted with one another after what felt like years apart. That first touch the other night felt like breathing again. Like coming up for air after being held under the water for too long. Our lungs filled with the same passion that coursed through our veins in that moment. I didn't think it would happen yet, I assumed it would take a while for her to even consider indulging in intimacy, but her desire to be held softly, no danger in the way, proved to me that she was ready. I had every intention of saying no, of waiting until I was sure she was in the right headspace, but this wasn't an excuse to forget her trauma. She wanted me because she felt safe and wanted to feel the full extent of it.
My diamond. I'll always protect her. The greatest gem in the whole world. People would fight for the ownership of her, but I am the one that has been granted permanent access, and I didn't even have to ask. She willingly opened herself up to me and it's the greatest gift I could ever receive. Because now I am hopelessly in love with her.
I didn't think myself capable of love for the longest time. When I started to consider it, I easily confused kindness with it, but now I know that the way my heart beats for Atlas is the truest expression I've ever known. I am not a monster like my father would have me believe. Despite his efforts, I did not become him. There is a purity that flows within me because I choose to love her. That makes me a better man.
Now, I intend to prove to Atlas everyday how much I love her. With every conversation, every caress, every kiss, even every silence, my goal is to show her.
Sex has been gentle these past few days, still riding on the high felt at the piano. Not everything between us has to be rough and energetic, it can be slow and careful and still evoke the same feelings. As long as she knows my love for her, I don't care how we go about it. Just to hold her close again after so long of remaining distant is enough.
Everyday I feel her love too. I know she's not ready to say it yet, too anxious over the intent of her words given her current mental state, but I can feel it. When she looks at me I see the same love radiating off her that I direct outwards too. In her words, her touch, her entire being, I know it's there. Actions speak louder than words. She'll say it when she's ready; I'll never push her.
This morning, after another moment of intimacy in the shower, we decided to cook together. Usually I'm in charge in the kitchen given my skills, but she insisted on helping today. She hasn't done much for herself in a while, so the fact she wanted to try gave me hope that she was finally opening herself up to happiness again. Finally finding the energy to go about her days despite the cloud of grief that hangs over her. I still see the sadness in her features, but she's learning to live with it.
We decided on making some spinach frittata for breakfast, something she said she'd never tried but always liked the sound of. She's been my sous-chef the entire time, helping me prepare the ingredients, asking questions the whole way through.
I walk over and stand behind her, letting my hands guide her as she chops the food. 'Like this. Be gentle.'
It's cheesy and done with an intent to kiss her and be close, but she doesn't protest, leaning her body back while moving her hands with mine. 'Whatever you say, chef,' she teases. Her head turns slightly, watching me over her shoulder. I waste no time in attaching our lips, moving one of my hands to hold her cheek and keep her in place.
We pull back, my nose nudging hers, and she smiles. A smile so warm and genuine I finally see some light in her eyes. 'I like when you call me chef,' I mumble against her lips, a sweet hum escaping hers as we reattach ourselves.
She turns her body so it's facing me, her hands holding my shirt while I have her face in mine. I could fuck her right here if I wanted to. Every moan that has escaped her lips the past few days has completely invigorated me with a new life. All my senses have come alive and every hair on my body stands in anticipation of hearing another. The hunger grows between us every day, and I wonder when we'll reach the stage we used to, but for now just getting to hold her sends me into a frenzy.
As our kiss deepens, however, we're interrupted by the buzzer to the gate sounding. She pulls away, waiting a few moments to see if it sounds again, and it does. We both groan at it, heads resting against each other's while we lightly laugh.
I move down the hall to go check the gates, noticing a postman waiting with a package. 'I'll just be a second, mate. Leave it there and I'll be out. Cheers,' I tell him through the intercom. 'Babe, did you order something?' I call out to Atlas.
She joins me near the door, looking through the monitor and seeing the box on the driveway. 'Nope. Maybe the team sent something over?'
'I'll go get it. You keep chopping up the spinach. And remember to be gentle, you savage!' I'm met with a final shove before I exit through the front door, making my way down the driveway to the locked gates. They can only be opened from inside, or with a code. One that only Atlas and I know. She doesn't know the significance of the numbers yet, but it's mum's birthday. Kind of like a security answer to access a website, this is mine to access my home. Reminds me of the most important people in my life.
I spot the box waiting just outside, punching the code in and moving through the metal to pick it up. It's addressed to Atlas. Interesting. She's probably right; someone sent it from the warehouse, but usually they would inform us before doing such a thing. So far we've only received things she's asked for, her grief making it difficult to leave the house just yet. She's getting there slowly, but it's taking baby steps.
Once the gate is secured again, I carry the package back to the house, calling out for her once inside and making my way to the kitchen. She's humming along to a song on the radio, her foot lightly tapping on the floor while she continues chopping the ingredients. I just watch her for a moment, enjoying how domestic the sight is. It almost makes me forget the reality of the world surrounding us, how unlike the chaos simply cooking in a kitchen together is.
I place the package down on the counter, the thud making her head turn. 'It's for you, little gem. Hope it's something juicy,' I tease, walking around her to take over her task so she can open it.
I hear her cut the tape securing the box, pulling apart the cardboard before removing the protective bubble wrap. Then it's silent. Completely still, as if time has stopped. Something is wrong.
My feet turn before I even register her gasp, her face completely drained of colour while she looks inside. 'Atlas, what is it? What's inside the box?' I ask, worry coating my voice and every feature on my face as I step closer to her.
When I reach it, there's nothing threatening in there; just a ring and a few drawings. But then I realise why they're familiar. The sketches are from her flat. The ones her Dad drew for her. Some have already been brought over to the house since she's been living here, but a few have remained, both of us too busy to pick up the final items. Now they're here, posted directly to her, when the only person with a key is Atlas.
Someone has broken in again. Just like they did when they killed Joe and left the engagement ring and picture of her father on his lifeless body. When I look at her, I see pain. Her eyes glaze over, mouth hanging open as she struggles to even breathe. It's not the sketches that are effecting her, but the small piece of jewellery that sits on top.
It's not grand, or even well made, but for some reason it's significant to her. I go to pick it up, but she cries at the sight of it. 'Baby, what is it? What's going on, you have to tell me,' I plead, hands coming to her arms to try and soothe her.
After all the work we've done to try and build her back up, it feels as if this one moment could completely shatter her again. But this time, I don't think it would be possible to even attempt gluing her back together. The shards would be far too damaged. She'd be forever broken. I can't let this happen.
Her eyes meet mine, tears spilling over the edge and slowly gliding down her cheeks. Tears I haven't seen for a week or so now. Tears I hoped I'd never experience again. Every time she cries it feels like a hand grasps around my heart and twists it. The pain radiates throughout my body for hours after, even if she's finished crying. 'The ring, they found the ring,' she breathes out, eyes flicking back over to it.
There's some hesitancy behind her eyes, too scared to even say the words that stand on the tip of her tongue. 'Why this ring? What's important about it?' I continue, desperate to reach the bottom of the issue.
She wipes at her eyes, taking one final look at it before reaching my gaze. 'Only a few people know about it. I made it when I was 15 with Dad, the first ring I made by myself. I only told people the other day.'
The other day. Wait.
'Who did you tell, Atlas?' I question, my voice raising with the fear in my body.
A note accompanies the package. Just poking out the side of the sketches. I already recognise the handwriting. It's Hugo's. I grab it before she can even notice it, eyes scanning over the words.
Another one bites the dust. – H.C.
She takes a few moments to compose herself. 'The team. I told George, Niall, Louis and Zayn. They're the only ones that know the story, the only ones that knew where it was.'
The minute the words leave her mouth I move into action. The first thing I do is pull open the drawer next to the back door, finding the gun I hide there in case of emergencies. I hear her gasp upon seeing it, not out of fear as she may have done months ago, but because she didn't expect this response. Then I move down the hall, ignoring her pleas while she follows me upstairs to my office. There are weapons hidden all over this house, but my best are in there.
The door slams open as I push inside, adjusting the gun I already have in the band of my trousers. Immediately I move to the bookshelves, pulling out random texts that have been hallowed out to hide some more firearms and knives. I take whatever I can fit in my pockets, before grabbing the blazer that hangs over my chair and pulling it onto my body, so I have more space to hold them.
In my desk are a couple of small pistols and handguns, along with ammunition. I empty them out into the blazer pockets, taking the safety off one of the guns as I walk past Atlas and back down the stairs.
I'm not entirely sure of my plan, but someone needs to pay. I'm sick of the constant fear, the constant back and forth and threat to our lives. This isn't a game. Not anymore. I refuse to be a pawn on this chess board any longer.
Atlas still pleads with me as I make my way to the door, stopping to unlock the gate for myself on the way. As I open the door, she pushes against it with all her strength to trap me in. 'What is the plan here, Harry? Please tell me, you can't shut me out. Not right now!'
'I'm going to make them suffer,' I tell her, my jaw completely clenched and aching while my teeth grind. 'They can't keep doing this. Hugo can't keep hurting you.'
She lets her hands hold my face, eyes searching mine for any kind of answer. 'Who is they, Harry? You can't just shoot everyone in the team. We don't know which one is the mole. We don't know who told Hugo!'
She's right, we have no idea. But it's been narrowed down to those four, and this is the best lead we've had in months. Someone in that room, someone I trust, has been working with the man trying to kill me and Atlas. This whole time, someone right under our noses has been feeding information to our enemy, helping him close in on us and threaten our lives. They've come so close to succeeding multiple times, hurting so many people in her life that she cares about. When Atlas got beat, attacked, and shot; they were responsible for it.
I let them in. I recruited someone that turned against me, and have been giving them whatever knowledge they need to assist Hugo. This whole time, he's been one step ahead of us because he's been in on our plans. The day Hugo first approached Atlas, that only happened because someone told him about her. The night she was almost attacked in the shop by the two men, that only happened because the team knew she was in the shop on her own. The day I was stabbed by one of Hugo's team, that only happened because someone told him our entire routine for the day.
Nothing has been a coincidence. When he said that he's always watching us, he meant it literally. Because someone has been. And I'm to blame.
'We are outnumbered, and the only way to stop this mess is to stop him.' I'm scaring her. I can tell. My voice raised more than I intended when I spoke, but I can't control the anger that rises within me. It bubbles away as the temperature increases, my skin flushed and limbs aching.
She brings my head forward so our foreheads touch, her breathing heavy as the severity of this situation becomes more apparent with each passing second. 'Please, just think this through. Be logical about this,' she pleads, but I can't do what she asks. Any reason has left my body, I only know rage.
Rage can turn men into beasts. The power of it creates a hunger within that cannot be suppressed with words. It must be settled with actions. I've been patient, I've waited in the shadows hoping Hugo will grow tired of his games. But that patience has turned into fury. A fury I cannot control. It is an acid that has been injected into my veins and clots my blood. Any semblance of rationality has disappeared, because that toxin is infecting me.
The only reason it exists is because of love. This rage is growing because he has hurt the person I care most for in this world. And I refuse to stand idly by. Atlas must understand this. She killed Emma because of her attack on me. This is the same, I just intend to hit the source of all pain and put a stop to it.
I'm going to kill Hugo Charles.
'Atlas, I'm doing this whether you like it or not!' I yell. She flinches slightly, pulling away from me. I never intended to make her fear me, that's the last thing I want. I'm so overcome with anger that I can't control myself. 'Are you coming with me or not?'
Within a second, her head shakes, moving away from the door. I take one last look at her, knowing that my foolishness may end up killing me, before walking down the stairs and jumping into my car. She watches me from the door, tears still streaming down her flushed cheeks.
Swiftly, she runs down the stairs, banging on the window for my attention. I open it upon the first knock, head turning to her. Her hands pull my face to hers, a quick and chaste kiss pushed to my lips. 'Come back to me,' she whispers.
I kiss her again, saying everything I wish to. How she is my sun, my moon and my stars. How she is the best thing to ever happen to me. How I'll die thinking only of her and how much I love her. I pull back, giving her a final look. 'I love you so much.'
The window is rolled up, the engine turned on. I waste no time in driving away, her small figure fading in the rear view mirror. I know that she'll call Zayn. Despite the knowledge of someone in that room being a threat to us, I know how much she still trusts him. I still do, even if I doubt his intentions now. It's caused such a confliction in my head that the tension pounds against my skull.
She'll tell him what I said, and he'll know where to find me. He knows me better than anyone else. I don't want him to, part of me wants this to be my final battle. It's selfish of me to consider it, but if I die while trying to save Atlas, I will be content. My final breaths will leave my lips as I remember her face and know I did everything I could to keep my promise.
I promised I'd protect you.
I said those words to her after the first attack she faced. I'm a man of my word.
There's an office on the outskirts of the city that most of Hugo's team work from. It's entirely a façade; people entering in well-made suits like every other city banker, only to strip off and change into clothes that allow them to carry out the dirty work of a criminal. Inside that building, every evil deed is done. Money laundering, drug creation, theft, even murder. The few times I watched his men torture others was in that building. It's where the secrets hide, and the exact place he spends most of his time so he can oversee all of it.
If you enter, it's very rare that you'll leave again.
That is where I'm headed. If I make it out of there, I'll deal with the team next. They'll have nothing if I kill their leader. Every person in that building will be completely vulnerable without him.
In the wild, there are social species that rely on a queen to continue producing eggs, thus expanding the hive. Bees and wasps protect and care for their queens. They watch over the eggs and hunt for food for her and her children, completely surrendering to her. If a queen is removed from the nest, the others will flock to her rescue. If she is killed, they are lost. The nest is incomplete, the offspring abandoned, and they have no one left to serve.
Hugo's people are a nest, and he sits on the throne. With him gone, they will fall apart, his control disintegrated. For many, Hugo provided a new kind of life. He promised them riches and power but exploited them in the process. Most probably aren't even aware of the manipulation he uses for their loyalty, so they cling on because they have a desire to protect the man that gave them everything. Others only hold on out of fear. Joe was one of them, perhaps the person in the team is the same. Either way, I show no mercy. His claws must be removed, any remnants destroyed.
My foot is pressed firmly on the accelerator, speeding through the streets of North London as my destination nears. This could be the stupidest thing I've ever done, but I don't care anymore. I'm done being rational, done being completely smart about everything. This has crossed the line. The people I trusted most, now working against me.
I'll make every single one of them wish they were never born.
It doesn't take long for me to reach the building. The streets are empty, the offices located in a business park just off a main road. Most people are in work, others at home still preparing for the day. This should be easy. I won't cause much of a ruckus to the outside world, being quick in my mission. In and out, over and done with. I need to be pragmatic, but the way my chest heaves up and down as I park outside threatens to destroy any sense within me.
I stall the car outside the main entrance and immediately start preparing my weapons. I have four guns with me, along with some knives. There are probably more people in there than I have the capacity to fight all of them, but as long as I don't fuck up the shots I take I should be fine.
I hop out the car, opening the boot and loading my weapons. Someone in the reception has probably noticed by now, paging up to the boss upstairs. They're preparing for my ambush, sending in the cavalry.
As I shut the door, a motorbike pulls up. Just as expected. I don't need to face them to know that it's Zayn and Babz, the latter rushing over to me and pulling at my arm to stop me from this madness. What she doesn't expect is the way my hand lifts and points the gun at her boyfriend.
'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' she yells with desperate attempts to lower my weapon. She's strong, but not as strong as me.
The safety isn't on; I could shoot him right now. I could begin this crusade and start massacring everyone that has, or potentially will, betray me. Even if I confront him right now, he'll never admit to being the person working with Hugo. Whoever it is has been so good at lying to me, they could continue to do so, and I'd still believe them.
'It was one of you. You, Louis, George or Niall. Or maybe all of you,' I state, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. 'Someone in that room told Hugo about Atlas' stories, and he's responded.'
He walks closer to me, the barrel of the gun pushing between his eyes. He's not scared, surprisingly. Maybe he knows that I'd never be able to kill him. My oldest friend, the truest family I have. He's been with me most of my life. To shoot him is too much to bare. I'd injure him, but I doubt I'd be able to pull the trigger. He knows that. He knows me better than anyone.
There are a few moments of silence. All three of us stand in wait. I'm not sure anyone understands the severity of what is about to happen. It's been a while since we've even had to think about Hugo; to return to it in such a way is extreme. But it must be done. I can't hide anymore.
Zayn grips the gun, but he doesn't pull it away from his head. 'How did he respond? What did he do?' He's so calm. How can he be in a moment like this?
I search his eyes, looking for any sign of fear. But there's none. Mine are full of it. 'The ring. He found the ring she told you about and sent it to her with a note. Only the people in that room knew about it, so one of you has been the mole all along.'
His eyes falter. Now he's worried. It's no secret that he cares about Atlas, we all do, but she's like a sister to him now. Or that's what he wants us to believe. 'Shit,' he breathes out, eyes moving to Babz behind me. 'So, what are you doing here? Just going to shoot up the place and hope it solves everything?'
My nostrils are flared, teeth still grinding. Around us the sky is clouded over and grey, rain threatening to escape and drown us. I hope it does. I hope I'm pulled under and never able to swim to the top. Because I'm so exhausted. This constant running, the endless danger; I'm tired of it. I want a life that is safe, not for me, but for Atlas. Out of everyone she deserves that, but now she's trapped.
'I'm going to kill him, Zayn. I'm done. He needs to die. If he dies they all fall. It's the only way,' I state, finally letting my gun drop.
He grabs my face, our heads touching while our breathing is heavy. 'This is insanity, H. You can't be serious.' I don't answer. 'Jesus Christ.'
He pulls away, scratching the back of his neck while turning to Babz. My gaze remains on the building in front of us. The longer we wait the more time the inhabitants have to prepare. 'You have other weapons?' I hear Babz ask behind me.
'In the boot. I've got enough on me already,' I tell her. They could both be working against me, could easily turn their weapons on me. Why am I trusting them? She moves to it swiftly, searching through the bags that are always stocked and pulling some out for her and Zayn. Babz has never been one to back down from a fight. 'Is it you?' I ask Zayn, my voice low.
He's not offended by the question. All evidence suggests he could be the mole. I just pray that it's not. He is the one I would be most hurt by. 'Would I be here preparing to help you kill that sick fucker if it is?' Silence. 'Look, you can ask me whatever you want once this is done, I have nothing to hide, but right now we need to go in there and put a stop to this. I go where you go, brother. We fight together.'
Babz shuts the boot, handing some weapons to Zayn and watching me with cautious eyes. 'So, what's the plan?'
The only goal I have is to find Hugo and kill him using whatever means is necessary. The thought of taking someone's life has never sat right with me, that same discomfort still present. I'd rather not hurt innocents that have been unwillingly dragged into this mess. 'We don't harm anyone unless they fight back. I'm not killing someone that doesn't deserve it. But we do whatever we need to reach him and take him.'
They nod to each other, a silent word of reassurance between them. Now that they're here, it's clear that they could breathe their final breaths too. And it would still be my fault. All these lives lost because of me. Perhaps I want to die in there.
'Let's go,' Zayn interrupts, walking towards the building before I can stop him.
We're a team. This is how it's always been. I never stopped to consider that they were the ones holding me up, though. That without them, I'd be nothing. All my strength is derived from them. If I walked in there on my own, I'd be dead within minutes. They're my saviours. I don't deserve it.
Our feet move in unison, the formation beginning. Outside the main entrance, we stop for one final look, then we step inside with guns drawn. A frail woman sits behind the desk, not looking up as we enter. She asks who we're here to see, but when she doesn't get an answer, she finally lets herself take in our figures. The moment she realises we're armed, her body stiffens, face frozen in fear.
I see her hand move towards something, perhaps a button to alert someone, my gun following her movement. 'If you press that I'll have to shoot you. If you don't you can run and pretend like you didn't see anything. What's it going to be?'
She doesn't answer at first, fingers hovering over the alarm. I cock my eyebrow at her, finger over the trigger and preparing to do the one thing I hate most. But she pulls away and nods, standing from her seat and running around us.
We make our way to the elevator. I know what floor he'll be on. Right at the top, just like the pretentious snob he's always been. Being closer to the sky helps him take more power from the Gods. A pity they won't be able to help him today.
Most of the team will be up there too, the other floors used for storage purposes. It will be a task to try and reach him, and that's if he's even here, something we haven't considered yet. If he's not, this will all be for nothing. In the back of my mind there is a voice that nags, though. A voice that remind me of my father. One that tells me to hurt whoever I need to anyway, because they deserve it. Anyone associated with the devil is a demon. A sinner that needs to be punished.
The doors open, the floor bustling about while people do their work. No one notices us. We stay there for a few moments, weapons raised, then we begin our task.
As we walk out, the first person notices. 'Who are you?' he questions, eyes focused on the gun.
I smirk at him, pointing it to his head. 'A friend of Hugo's. Is he here?'
He gulps, hesitating with his answer. 'I don't know where he is.'
'I think you're lying to me. I don't like liars.'
More people notice, some taking cover and others finding their own weapons. The battle will begin shortly. They start positioning themselves, calling out insults and threats, but they're all empty compared to what I have planned. I grab the collar of the man's shirt, bringing him close to me and keeping the gun to his temple. 'Where is Hugo?' I shout, eyes moving around the room.
I can see his office on the other side of the room, the blinds closed. There's no way of telling if he's in there. It's all a guessing game. A risk worth taking.
Someone clears their throat, holding their gun a little higher in defiance. 'Like we'd ever tell you, Styles.'
'Ah, so you know me. I hope he hasn't said anything too bad. I'm a ray of sunshine usually,' I taunt, digging the gun into the man's head. Out the corner of my eye I notice someone aiming for Babz, edging closer to her in the shadows. In a split second, I point towards them and shoot, their body falling backwards as the shot hits them.
The first one.
It's the catalyst for the chaos to begin.
All around, gunshots fire. One after the other as Hugo's people begin attacking. The three of us crouch down, the man still in my grasp. Zayn and Babz look round the corners and aim, taking a few people out. I follow suit, shooting at anyone that aims for me. I only go areas that won't kill them, hoping their injuries will knock them out.
Zayn and Babz are only shooting to kill.
I peek my head out, noticing a gun too close for my liking. As the woman pulls the trigger, I bring the man I had been keeping hostage up, his head taking the bullet between his eyes. I drop his lifeless body, meeting the woman's gaze as her eyes go wide, immediately firing my own shot in the side of her head.
The second one.
Some of their blood is already on my clothes and face, warm against me as my pulse quickens. The beat of my heart acts as a drum, soundtracking every movement of this escapade. With each shot, the beat hits, almost like a fight sequence from a film.
I make the decision to stand, hiding behind a wall and firing at anyone in the way. Someone comes up behind me and pulls me into a headlock, their grasp tight and pushing against my windpipe. I fight as hard as I can, clawing at their skin, but it's to no avail. My gun drops in the process, my only line of defence gone.
The person laughs into my ear, taunting me with insults of defeat, and for a moment I start to believe them. I believe that I am weak, that I am a failure, that everyone I love will die and it will rest on my shoulders. But then I remember my knives. Without warning, my hand pulls the blade tucked into my belt, pushing it into the side of their ribcage. They immediately let go and double over in pain as the blood shoots out. I waste no time in grabbing their hair and slicing their throat, the blood pouring out down their body.
The third one.
I need to move forward. Zayn and Babz have started clearing the floor, using whatever they can to disarm and subdue the fighters. It allows me the time to make my way towards the office where my enemy sits.
Another woman jumps out at the side, hitting my temple with the hilt of her gun. It completely shocks my body, a searing pain shooting through my skull as I feel the thick crimson pooling from whatever wound she's inflicted. My ears begin ringing, vision hazy and breathing hallow. I fall to the floor and grab my head, desperately trying to calm the discomfort that pounds. In my lack of a fight, the woman gains access to my weapon, holding both guns to my head with a smile.
'I'm going to enjoy this,' she claims, fingers on the triggers.
I hear a gunshot, the sound aching in my ears, and I assume it's me that's been hurt. But as I look up again, I notice her lifeless body fall to the floor, blood leaking from the side of her skull. Babz moves to me, offering a hand. 'I've got you. Keep going, I'll watch your back,' she tells me, handing me a gun.
I stand to my feet, wobbling slightly as the pain echoes, but after a few moments of leaning on her I'm good to go. My feet continue forward, battling whoever I must. I've forgotten what normal sound is, only hearing the ringing of my eardrums with every shot of a gun. There are some screams here and there, but they're quiet compared to the bullets. I imagine this is what a warzone is like. The place where men go to die.
I wonder how Zayn is doing. He has his own trauma with guns, the sounds of them making him jittery, but he's gotten better at managing it. I know he has PTSD, though. His time in the army destroyed something within him. I only know vague details, but even those are horrendous. How one man can endure such a thing and still live his life to the fullest extent is admirable. Especially when he chooses to live it like this.
Eventually, all that separates me from Hugo is the door, the path cleared for me as the last people standing are preoccupied with Zayn and Babz. I try to open it, but it's locked, my gun shooting at it instantly.
As I open the door, I'm only met with darkness. I assume he's turned the lights off to hide. I flick the switch, my eyes adjusting to the brightness and scanning the expanse of the room. Upon closer inspection I realise something.
He was never here.
I can't suppress the yell that scratches at my throat. My hands tear at my roots, knuckles aching with the pressure. My eyes move around the room hoping for some kind of life for me to take out, but again, there's nothing. On his desk are a few papers relating to some business deals, and his drawers are only stacked with the same. Nothing here that could be of use to me.
Shit.
All sound leaves. All feeling exits. All sense gone. I cannot be held responsible for the rage that now fuels me.
Everyone that I love is hurt. My mother and sister endured years of abuse because I wasn't strong enough to save them. Atlas has been put through hell these past few months because again, I don't know how to protect her. Everything bad happens because of me. I have put their lives in danger, I have failed to stop the monsters. This is entirely my fault. I am cursed to bring down anyone I care for, to destroy anyone I love.
I am the monster.
I don't realise I'm shooting. I don't feel the gun in my hands anymore, I can't hear the cries for help or the taunts from his men. All I see is blood. Thick, red, blood pooling from anyone that comes near me. One, two, three, four. Shot after shot. They all end up falling to the ground clutching onto the last dregs of their lives.
I am the cause of it. I will always be the cause of it. I am a monster. I've become one because they wanted me to be one.
Only when a pair of arms wrap around me does my gun drop to the floor. I try to fight against them, but my attempts are futile. Another takes the weapons from me, hiding them away. Then I hear their voices. Zayn and Babz. Desperately trying to calm me down as I rage against them.
'Let me go!' I scream, thrashing around in Zayn's arms.
Babz stands in front of me, a look of concern on her face. 'They're dead Harry. Every single one of them is dead!'
My eyes dart around the room, finally taking in the scene. No life is left. Any person that once stood in this room is gone; their lifeless bodies sprawled across the floor. A massacre.
It causes a pain so severe that I become numb to it. This paranoia, this constant need to run, it's made me empty. I don't know how to live a life where I don't fear for those I care about. It's nothing to do with my own life. I don't value that. But I value Atlas'. Under this pretence, I did the one thing I've always hated, ever since Hugo made me. I killed so many. I stole lives in the same way I steal diamonds. Like they were mine for the taking.
I behaved like a God. Like I had the right to do such a thing. If there is a counterpart to Prometheus it is me. I do not give life, I take it. I do not champion humankind, I belittle it.
This is my legacy.
I continue fighting, pushing against the body behind me. 'I need to find him. I need to put an end to this and to all of you!'
Babz holds a gun in her hand, aiming it at me. I expect her to shoot, but she doesn't. Instead, the hilt meets the side of my head, and suddenly everything is black.
I am the monster.
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A/N:
So I actually merged two chapters into one for this, and I've since reworked the outline, and now there are only 9 chapters left (maybe 8). SORRY.
Also: my other story Pretty Boy is coming to an end on Monday. There are two parts left, coming out Sunday and Monday. I've loved every second of writing it so please check it out if you haven't already. It's based on Pretty Woman, so if that's up your alley then YAY!
Another also: I randomly wrote a very smutty one shot about Damiano David, the leader singer of Italian rock band Måneskin. Go check it out!
Stay safe, big love x