***(This is a double update, read chapter 100 first if this is the first one you opened)***
You can choose to listen to either of these songs, or neither, up to you.
This one is that song Harry plays in the basement.
The other attached at the top is a song that relates to this chapter.
***
"Fuck, I'm stuck inside a body craving something
I can't remember how I got this deep am I missing something?
I always thought suicidal thoughts were for the weaker minds
But now that mindset is mine and I'm a prisoner of time
It's time for my medication"
***
HARRYS P.O.V:
(Continued from chapter 41. Last time he was in the basement)
No one knows what it's like, to be like this, they did this to me.
I unlock the basement, climbing down through the doors and shutting them above me, feeling that nausea crawl on my skin again as the smell hits my nostrils.
My chest starts to heave as my feet slap against the concrete floor, the echoing around me only broken by the sound of water dripping from the leaking pipes.
I reach the same iron door, sucking in a trembling breath as. I swallow the lump in my throat, before I unlock it and drag it open, pulling on that same red glow that reminds me of being in hell, where I belong.
I push Abby out of my mind, willing her away, she can't be here for this, I can't do this and think about her.
I press play on the CD player, letting the music ring in my ears as I shake my hands out, cracking my neck before placing a new tape in the VHS recorder and switch it on.
I close my eyes and suck in slow breaths, flooding my mind with all of the things I try and keep locked away, letting them in so I can use them to do what I need to, to give me some kind of peace, to get this torture out of me for a moment.
The memories that made me who I am.
I feel it wash over me, the anger, the fear, the spite.
It leaves a calm ringing in my head, drowning out the sickness so I can get through this, the only comfort I have is knowing that when though I'm evil, at least I stick to my lists, I stick to my rules, and no one on there is innocent.
I walk to the bench, next to the old rusted bathtub against the wall and drag my fingers over the instruments on the table, deciding which one to play with today.
That same anticipation curls inside of me, tingling over my skin as my heart beat slows down, any emotions I had completely blacked out, the only thing I can feel is pain, and wrath.
One day maybe I won't need my medicine, but today isn't that day.
I pick up the pliers from the table, turning them around in my hand to inspect them and shrug my shoulders.
These'll do.
I reach over, to turn on the tap to the bath, plugging it and letting it fill, the sound of the screeching from the pipes mixing in with the running water and the same music that stays on repeat.
I grip the pliers as I turn around, rolling my shoulders to crack my bones, knowing the demon in me is ready to play, enveloping over my senses until I don't even recognise myself any more.
I can hear the heaving breaths in the room, but they aren't mine.
It'll all be better soon, I'll be okay soon, I won't be that scared little boy any more.
All I'll be able to hear are the screams soon, and that's okay, because this time.
They won't be mine.
I walk over to the bench near the chair in the middle of the room, placing the pliers there next to the paper work and pick up the glass vial and syringe.
I stick inside the needle into the lid, turning it upside down and drawing out the exact measurement, thankfully Jimmy knows about this shit.
He's going to need to drop more off soon because I'm almost out.
...If I do this again after tonight.
Maybe I should stop?
Do I want to stop?
Abby would want me to stop.
Or would she? If she knew all of it would she really want me to stop?
I still think she would, she's not like me - like the rest of us. Her heart is too good. She wouldn't understand.
I saw the way she looked at me the day she found out about Andy, she was terrified of me and she didn't even know the details.
She'd never have anything to do with again if she knew about this - that's if she speaks to me again after the way I acted, she'd be even more terrified of me.
I don't blame her.
I'm scared of me too.
Maybe it's for the best, if she never saw me again. I'm a dead man walking anyway, I'm just waiting to die.
Sometimes she makes me wonder what it would be like to not want that though...
Fuck I can't stop thinking about how she'd look at me.
I turn around and look at the man unconscious and bound to the chair, right where Steve said he left him a couple days ago, with Jimmy coming back to make sure he hasn't died - and my lip twitches in disgust.
Parasite.
He's exactly what nightmares are made of, and unfortunately for him, I'm about to be his worst nightmare.
Let's see if he likes how it feels.
Let's give him some medicine.
I take slow steps towards him, feeling my skin crawl and I stare at him in the red light - he reminds me of him, they're all just like him... Or worse.
I grab his hand thats tied to the chair by his wrist, slipping the needle into the IV catheter Jimmy was gracious enough to put there for me.
It's not like it doesn't help him too, makes it easier when he comes to keep them knocked out.
Fuck this asshole breathes heavy in his sleep.
I slowly start injecting the magic that will wake this fucker up, and then I just wait - it never takes long. Only a minute or two, sometimes three.
Depends on how generous Jimmy has been feeling.
I pull the syringe out and drop it on the table, blinking my eyes and feeling the warmth humming around in my body from all the shit I put in it.
... I know Abby doesn't like that either... Scares her, I don't like scaring her.
I just can't do this shit sober, I tried that month I didn't see her and it fucked me up worse each time to the point I had to call Jimmy to stop me doing something stupid.
He's an asshole but he stopped me using a gun on myself.
It's always in my head.
I hate the place I go to when I do this, it's like I'm right back in that basement again - but it's the only way it feels like it gets him away from me... Even if it's temporary.
At least this way I'm making sure these gutter rats can't hurt anyone else.
I'm not sorry.
They deserve it.
He may have made me a monster, but at least I'm a monster to the ones that had it coming.
At least I protect the ones that deserve it. The ones that no one else does.
I never had a choice back then, but I have a choice now.
I hear a faint groaning and look back to the man, seeing him start to wake up; his head lulling back and swaying back and forth while his eyes try to open.
Vermin.
I pick up the paper work from the table, and walk to the bath tub and turn off the running water; pausing to stare at it and I resist the urge to scream when all the images flash through my mind and slice through it like razor blades.
I fucking hate bath tubs.
My stomach is churning and my heart accelerating as I momentarily feel like I'm a kid all over again, those same feelings that don't stop until I get rid of him.
I wish I could have done this to him.
When it finally stops I gasp out the breath I didn't realise I was holding, and try not to look at the bathtub full of water again but I know I'm going to go through all of that in my head on repeat again until I'm finished.
It's worth it though. It's worth suffering.
This is the only way I feel like any part of my existence has been good, that I did something right.
It makes what he did to me worth it.
I hum along to the music, waiting for that fucking waste of space to become coherent and read over the paper; squinting my eyes as I look over it and don't know if it's all the bullshit that's wrong with me, making me want to throw up - or what's written on here.
It's both. It's definitely both.
I wonder what Abbys doing right now? Does she miss me? Does she miss me as much as I miss her?
Fuck this is not the time for that.
I can't think about her when I do this because I know how much she would hate it but I don't know what to do because she's all I can fucking think about.
Reminds me of that cricket that was a conscience in that Disney movie I saw as a kid, with that puppet and the nose that grew when he lied.
She's like my cricket - but she's a mouse.
Who am I kidding, I watched it a couple weeks ago.
I like Disney movies, I have a secret hidden stash of DVDs that I watch but I like to keep that to myself.
Peter Pan is my favourite one though.
Wonder what Abby would think about that? Would she think it's stupid?
My father thought it was stupid.
I really need to stop fucking thinking about her and concentrate.
I stand in front of the chair, glancing at the man while I continue to read and when I hear start to try and talk against the gag in his mouth; I raise a brow when I look at him.
"Mornin' sunshine, sleep good?" I ask, tilting my head with smile as I watch him stare at me in horror once he can focus on me.
That's right, be fuckin scared - learn how it feels.
I can tell he's still a bit groggy, but being locked in a basement with a creepy red light and that god damn music is enough to slap you wide awake in no time.
I should know.
To be fair, the drugs help.
Thanks Jimmy.
"You're a smart man so I'm sure you know screaming would be very stupid" I warn raising my brows.
He can only nod, trying to get out some kind of yes through his gag but it's just muffled noise.
I look down to the report and back to his face, tilting my head again "So Jonathan is it? Mind if I call you Jon? What about Jonny? Any preferences?"
The man just shakes his head as I notice his body start to tremble and his face is scrunched up as he starts to cry.
Hah.
Crying never stopped you did it? Won't be stopping me.
I shrug my shoulders, as I sigh "Not like it matters, I'm terrible with names anyway"
I really am.
"Do you know why you're here Jonny boy?" I ask while I walk back to the table and set the paper back on it and pick up the pliers.
His eyes widen in terror when he sees what I'm holding; and he shakes his head frantically, still trying to talk into his gag.
Now he's just being annoying.
Looks like I'll be keeping that gag on or he'll never fucking shut up, I can already tell.
I stand back in front of him and lean down to his eye level with a sweet smile "You've got two grandchildren don't you - twins right? Two girls? How old are they? 8 years old correct?"
His scared eyes just dart between my own and he gives me a slow cautious nod, his breathing getting faster but the minute.
"Hmmm" I hum, cocking my head with a sweet smile "So tell me..."
I pause and my expression starts to sour as my brows crease "Did you enjoy hurting them? Doing that to your fucking grand daughters that trusted you? I can't repeat the things you did - could barely read it."
My face drops into a hateful look as I glare at him; my jaw tensing as I run my tongue along the inside of my cheek and raise my brows for an answer.
"Did you enjoy it? Because I read all about what you did you twisted fuck - and let me tell you, I was dying to get my hands on you. You really thought you got away with it didn't you? Those Judge mates of yours magically making it go away for you. You should've just went to prison you idiot because now.... Well now, you're here with me."
He starts to cry harder as panic washes over his face and his muffled voice gets louder as he tries to explain something against his gag - but it's not like I give a shit what he has to say.
They didn't get to have a voice, and neither will he.
I know what that that's like, when you ask them to stop and they won't.
"How do you think that felt for your daughter? Watching you get away with what you did to her kids? Hm? After you got away with doing it to her too?" I keep my expression hard as I watch him try and pleade with me with his eyes, acting like there's something there I should take pity on.
Well there's fucking not.
"And don't worry about all those threats you made, real father of the year stuff that was - to ruin her financially, take her house and leave her and those two little girls homeless if she didn't stay quiet. She let my friend Steve know all about it and I'll be making sure she gets all the money she needs. Does that sound fair to you? Hm?"
I lift my hand and pat him against the cheek and hold up the pliers "Seeing as you use those hands to do such terrible things - I don't think you deserve them. Ever had your fingers broken? I have. It's not fun - definitely doesn't tickle"
His eyes go wide as he starts to plead into the gag tied around his mouth, getting louder and I clamp my hand over his mouth to shut him up.
"Shhhh - in case you haven't noticed, most of these questions are rhetorical"
He starts to gasp against my hand as he chokes on his breathes while he starts to sob, and I just glare at him.
"What you did was fucking sick Jonny boy, and you know what sick people need?"
I keep my hand over his mouth as I move the pliers down and clamp it over the middle knuckle of his pointer finger and lower my eyes at him and my voice drops to a low tone.
"They need some medicine"
All I can hear after that are his muffled screams against my hand while he thrashes against the chair in what, I assume, is excruciating pain.
Too bad this is the least of his worries.
Because it's only going to get worse, and I learnt from the best at how to make someone's existence feel like hell would be a holiday.
It always ends the same way, it always ends with the water.
Except the only difference is... I don't pull them back up.
***
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Sorry in advance for this long and authors note:
So, I assumed this was obvious - ish. I'm sure a lot of you guessed it, which is awesome! That's why I left clues.
All I ask is don't go back in the story if you re-read and spoil it for anyone else.
Would like to clarify two things though, Harry is not a sociopath - or a psychopath. Is he fucked up? Yes.
But he is not a psychopath. (Side eyes at David tho 👀)
He also isn't a sociopath, he feels emotions, empathy and compassion, he was just never taught how to regulate or understand them, among the other things trauma stunted with his emotional development.
He isn't Dexter, he wasn't out there killing animals as a kid or killing 'bad' guys so he doesn't kill 'good guys'.
***
What is on his tapes has been the same since I started this story as well as his motives, so hopefully no one wants to murder me.
I genuinely have felt nauseous from stress over getting to these parts finally.
But now you know what's on his tapes, as well as his fathers.
Now he just has to explain what you just read to Abby, and why he does it as well as what Steve and Jimmy's involvement is.....yay.
Help. Me.
Also I know this isn't the time for jokes but...