Written by Kenz (TogetherWeRise)
*The pair of us have also decided that the song on the right is a bit of a "theme song" for this story. Sick, yes, but pretty perfect for it! At a point in this chapter there will be a little note saying (PLAY SONG), so please do so and it adds a really intense effect to the scene! Thank you all! :)
Chapter Five
Harry
“She’s useless,” Liam repeated evenly, narrowing his eyes at Zayn.
When Zayn answered him, he was looking around the table at the other three of us, “I beg to differ. From what Niall told us, we can use her to get to the bitch, can’t we?”
Liam pressed his lips together so tightly they almost disappeared. I knew he’d have liked to argue, but he wasn’t going to. Zayn had made his decision and that was the end of it. Besides, the rest of us didn’t have any qualms with keeping her around a while longer. There was only one problem with it; We were getting antsy. We hadn’t truly killed anyone since that preteen that came before the small one, as we’d christened the older girl.
I turned my head to assess the other lads. Oh, yes, we were all most certainly getting antsy. You could tell just by looking at us. Liam was brooding even more, rarely talking to any of us. Louis was unceasingly fidgeting and Niall was constantly talking about what he was going to do to the next girl. As for me, I’d been doing little things to assert my dominance over the boys, and I could admit it.
Other ‘serial killers’, the novices, they had no idea why they did what they did. They all had a point where they snapped because they didn’t know what exactly they wanted, so they couldn’t get it and they were never truly satisfied. As for me, I knew what I wanted, and I know why I liked to kill. That’s why I was different, why I would never get caught. I was in control.
“Yeah, we can,” Niall said. “You should have seen her face when I used wee one as a foot rest! It drove her up the wall. I tell you, when her times up, the first thing I’m going to do is cut out her-”
I laughed, picking at a rogue string on the sleeve of my knit jumper. “We’ve heard what you’re going to do. Shut up, already.”
He ran his hand through his hair and shot me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“Zayn, I don’t think I can wait much longer,” Louis burst from his end of the table.
The four of us turned to look at him. He was tugging at his eyelashes, one of his ticks, and his foot kept jiggling under the table. The combination was getting on my nerves, and if he kept it up much longer I was going to start slapping his hand every time he went to do either one. He would hate getting treated like a child. Thinking of his possible protests made me smile to myself.
“I’m dying here, man. I need blood on my hands.”
As if to show what he meant, he laid both of his hands flat on the table. His nails were nothing but chewed stubs. Out of all of us, Louis was perhaps the least put-together. He was easily frustrated and was to killing as an addict was to heroine. How or where he got his fix, he didn’t really care. It was sad sometimes, really, and it also made him the most dangerous of us all as far as secrecy went.
“Stop biting your nails. The fans are going to notice and start some uproar over you being stressed over management. We can’t afford any digging around,” I put one of my hands over his in reassurance.
“You‘ll be fine,” Zayn dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
I rolled my eyes. Obviously he wouldn‘t be. If Zayn had an ounce of common sense, he‘d see that the lad was mere seconds from tearing his hair out. If Zayn knew anything about anything, he‘d know that it‘s not good to have your crew so on edge. That‘s how rash decisions get made and bad things happen as a result. But, then, Zayn wasn‘t exactly the brightest.
“I think Louis has a point,” I spoke up, swiveling my head to look at the so called leader, “look at us. We’re a mess. We’ve got to do away with the little one -and soon, if you’ve got half a mind. If we go on for much longer I’ll be inclined to kill you.”
I gave him my most winning smile, but his expression told me that he sensed I was only half joking. I was expecting him to have some quick, finalizing remark about my feet being on the table or about which of us made the decisions, but he remained silent. His hand went up to his chin, stroking the five o’clock shadow he’d grown. Liam, Niall, Louis and I sat watching him as he contemplated what to do.
“Okay,” he said, breaking the silence.
Louis sighed in relief and I felt my grin grow. We locked eyes and I waggled my eyebrows at him. In response he chuckled and held up his hand for a high-five, which I happily gave him. Last night he and I had laid awake and planned out what we were going to do as soon as we got our hands on the little one and thinking about that conversation now made me nearly hum in pleasure.
A look of near joy crossed Liam’s face, and he almost let a smile go. “Brilliant.”
Niall had hopped up from his seat, “oh, this is going to kill that fucking bitch! Can I be the one to tell her? I can’t wait to see the look on her face. I’m going to-”
“Calm down, Niall,” Zayn said calmly.
Niall sank back into his chair, nodding.
“We’re not doing away with the small one.”
Louis’ face showed indignation and he jumped out of his seat fast enough that it knocked over, scraping across the wooden kitchen floor. “Hey! But you just said-”
Zayn held up his hand to silence him. Begrudgingly, Louis shut his mouth and righted his chair, looking much like a rowdy schoolboy scorned by the headmaster. Just by looking at him, I could practically hear the insults and curses he was hurling Zayn’s way in his mind. Louis was never good at hiding his emotions.
“We’re not doing away with the small one,” Zayn repeated, and then a slow smile slipped on to his lips. “We’re going to find someone else.”
Liam’s eyebrows drew together sharply. “No. We’re not keeping three at once.”
“The two we have now won’t even come into contact with her,” Zayn promised.
This seemed to sate the other boys, as they all began nodding their heads and murmuring their agreement. I, on the other hand wasn’t nearly so content with the idea. Zayn had never been so insistent on keeping two before. We had a rule against it, in fact, because keeping two heightened our chances of being caught. Zayn was breaking all of the rules and no one seemed ready to challenge him about it.
“Why are you so keen on the small one?” I asked Zayn, my eyes narrowed.
He shrugged. “She’s simply means to break the bitch.”
“Wouldn’t it break her even faster if we did away with her? They’ve had plenty of time to get acquainted,” I countered.
Zayn regarded me with a look that I couldn’t quite name. “Harry, the small ones time will come, and soon. I promise you. And when it does, we’re not going to hold back on her. Get it?”
His eyes brightened as he talked about it, and rather than argue I simply nodded.
“Good. Now, boys, get your stuff on. We’re going,” he paused, raising his eyebrows at us. When the final word came out of his mouth he annunciated the vowels needlessly, making it sound all the more exciting. “Hunting.”
Niall practically scrambled from his chair, followed almost as quickly as Louis. Liam calmly got up and followed them out of the room. When they were gone, Zayn turned back to me, an almost paternal tone to his voice.
“I’m going to let Liam choose. He hasn’t had a turn in a bit.”
“Are you bringing her back?” I asked.
“Yes. You know how Lou likes the toys we have.”
I flicked a glance at the window and saw nothing but the midnight blue sky. The weather channel had said that it was going to be chilly and windy out tonight, two of my least favorite weather conditions. An idea had formed in my head, and I shared it with him.
“I’m going to stay back here, that cool?”
“Sure, man.”
“Zayn! We’re ready!” a voice called in from the foyer.
He nodded at me and then left the room. I waited in my chair until I heard the door close behind them and then hopped up quickly. Padding barefoot into the hall, I located the door that lead down into the basement, pulling it open to reveal the stairs that lead down below.
At the top landing I took a deep breath, readying myself, and then albeit flung myself down the stairs, tripping over the last few steps in my haste. In the basement, the blonde’s head snapped up. The small one remained limp.
I sprinted over to the blonde and knelt down in front of her. Naked terror was laced through my words. “Come on, we have to hurry, they’ll be back soon.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
She was trying to remain stoic, but I could sense the under currents of excitement in her voice. Her body had come alive, and she was holding her legs to the chair to try and hide the fact that her knee’s were practically knocking together. After undoing the knots that bound her hands, I went around to get her feet.
“Out. Anywhere. We have to go,” I said, moving from the left foot to the right. “I’m sorry. I told them I didn’t want to do this anymore. I told them.”
Freed, the girl leaped to her feet, and then quickly she went down again. There was bruise-like marks around her ankles, shoulders and her wrists, and I imagined that her circulation was coming back painfully. Before she could fall I grabbed her arm and pulled her back up. She flinched at my touch but didn’t fight.
“Miranda- Get Miranda,” she stammered.
She was looking up at me, and face so alive and hopeful. I couldn’t do it anymore.
I dropped her to the ground and let out the guffaw that I’d been barely containing this whole time. Bent over with my hands on my knees, I laughed so hard that I couldn’t breathe. Blondie was staring at me with tear-filled eyes from the floor, but I kept laughing, not sure when I’d be able to stop.
“You didn’t mean it,” she said numbly.
“N-No,” I said around gasps for air. “I.. You dumb ass.. I thought you’d be h-harder to.. fool.. than that!” I continued, speaking to myself. "And the Oscar for favorite actor goes to.. Harry Styles!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw her crawling backwards, towards the stairs. I pretended not to notice. She didn’t reply to me and I figured that she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. It took her what seemed like centuries, but she finally reached the bottom of the staircase. She put her arms beneath her and tried to pull herself to her feet.
The attempt was pitiful.
“Aw, come now, Rosie,” I cooed, walking over to her. “You don’t really think you’re going to get anywhere, do you?”
Her bruised, swollen face flushed beet-red, and I had to admit the color suited her. It really made her green eyes pop. A bit of movement caught my eye and I recognized it as her rearing up to kick me. Unlike last time, I was prepared, and I managed to grab hold of her foot just before it hit home.
I grinned, “Ah, ah, ah. Seems I’m faster, doesn’t it?”
I kept hold of her foot and dragged her back to her chair. She flipped on to her stomach and tried to grab on to something, her hands reaching, though finding nothing. I rolled my eyes and without much effort hoisted her back into her chair. She kicked out at me again, this time with her other foot, at the same time swinging at me with her fists.
“Let go of me- You no good bastard- You’re going to rot in hell for this!”
I easily caught both of her ankles in my hand and both of her wrists in the other.
“Oh, you’re a brave one,” I absently commented.
Holding her at arms length I deftly retied her legs with one hand, then her hands. It only took a matter of seconds, and when it was over she had a look of shock on her face, as if she hadn’t even realized it had happened.
“When I get free I swear I’m going to-”
“Kill me?” I offered. “No, I don’t think so.”
“-fucking-”
I began humming, and then crossed the room to the old, makeshift work table. It was laden with random objects and I had to dig around a bit until I found what I wanted. Eventually, though, I located the two items. Pocketing one and holding the other, I walked back over to the blonde. The item in my hand was a knife, and I made sure to hold it up so that she could see.
Her jaw slackened comically, and she began trying to fight her bonds.
“Don’t hurt yourself.”
(A/N: PLAY SONG)
“What do you care?” she snapped. “What are you going to do? Cut me up? Slit my throat like you sick fucks did with Miranda?”
I flicked a glance at the other girl, having forgotten she was there. Now she was up, watching the two of us through weary, dull eyes with tears streaming down her cheeks. I flashed her a smile and waved at her before turning back to the blonde. Rather than answer her, I lifted the knife and ever so gently touched it to the edge of her jawline. She flinched and her breath caught in her throat. All pretenses of cockiness were gone now, and she let out a small noise.
Shaking my head, I took the knife away from her and took the heavy duty duct-tape from my pocket. Unlike in the movies, where those idiots only put one section of tape on the persons mouth, I took a long piece and wrapped it around the back of her head twice, making sure it was tight before I severed the end with the knife. That way a bit of tongue maneuvering wouldn’t bring the tape off of her mouth.
“You talk too much,” I told her.
Taking a few steps back, I studied her. Somewhere along the line her tank top had ridden up her stomach and I was able to see a large, ugly bruise blossoming just above her navel, nearly identical to the one to the left of her collarbone. Niall had said she’d pissed him off, but I wasn’t aware she’d gotten him that angry.
“Oi, you really know how to push buttons.”
The sound of the door opening and closing upstairs brought my attention away from the bitch. Above me, I could hear the groaning of a struggle, the slaps of sneakers on the floor and then the thud of someone being thrown down. Excitement coursed through me and I deftly dropped the tape to the floor, gripping the knife even tighter in my other hand.
“Later, babes,” I said, running up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
I found them in the living room. A girl with pink streaked brown hair was sprawled on the floor in a short nightclub dress, and the lads were circled around her with their weapons of choice. As I entered, Louis looked up, and he dove into the tale of how they found her coming back from a party and she’d walked over to them. I hardly heard him, my focus was on the girl.
“Where are we going to do this?” I asked, licking my lips absent-mindedly.
“Usual room,” Zayn said simply. “Niall, bring her up.”
The five of us trooped upstairs, Niall dragging the pleading girl in his wake. By the smiles on everyones faces, I could tell they were in as much of a blissful state as I. Louis’ eyes were glazed over and I could swear he was almost drooling.
The room, originally a large bathroom, was completely gutted. The walls and floor were all tile, and thats why we did the killing here; Easy cleanup. Once we’d all gotten inside, the girl was dumped on the tiled floor and then almost immediately, Liam fell on her. Nobody needed to say anything, because we had an unspoken, rotating order of who went.
In the middle of the room, Louis was pulling Liam off of the screaming girl so that he could have a go. He shoved him to the corner of the room and though any other time this would infuriate the brown eyed boy, he went without complaint. Liam was too high off of the act to care, his eyes wild and a genuine smile on his blood spattered face.
These were the only times Liam really smiled anymore.
Louis was grunting and shrieking in his usual over-excited fashion, and when Niall tapped his shoulder to signal the rotation he dropped back, panting, dropping the dripping red knife he’d used by his feet. My eyes dropped to his hands, and I saw him rubbing them together as he always did. Louis loved the feeling of blood.
Niall went quickly, as always. He always had something in mind and that was always all he wanted to do, and this time was no different. With this girl, the first thing he did was rip her piercing’s straight out of her eyebrow and nose. I wasn’t surprised. Niall hated piercing’s on girls, though he never could give a good reason as to why.
“Harry,” Niall said, gesturing towards the bloody figure on the floor with a reckless grin.
I nodded and stepped up, instantly driving my knife deep into her untouched stomach, waiting for my favorite part; The screaming. When it came, I practically went cross-eyed from the endorphin high it gave me. By the time I was finished my trousers had a new pattern over the shins and I had blood smeared on my neck from the girls weak attempt at reaching out.
I stepped back, dizzy with pleasure.
Lastly, it was Zayn’s turn. He approached the girl and grabbed her hair, yanking her head up and holding it against his leg. She was nearly gone now, we all knew, and Zayn finished her off with one quick, deep slit in her throat. He dropped the body back to the ground and then, the deed finished, we all looked around at each other; Five, blood-covered savages.