Heya Lovelies, just popping in here with the Trigger warnings for this chapter...
We haven't had these for ages...
I love you all really!
⚠️ Violence, crime, death, description of graphic injury and Payne ⚠️
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The lights were on and yet no one seemed to be home.
Harry swallowed, an overwhelming fear drowning him as he walked up the long gravel path to his house.
His hands were shaking, desperate to conceal them he buried them in his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek harshly.
He heard footsteps and spun around, coming face to face with a taller man, a large mask concealing his identity.
He grasped onto Harry harshly, fisting his coat and half walked, half dragged him into the house. Harry kept his mouth shut, remembering that struggling was likely to just cause him more pain.
They entered the building and Harry noticed the broken lock on his front door as they passed through it. The actual house looked more or less the same, the only difference being the occasional droplets of red liquid slowly drying on the scuffed marble floor.
Harry felt the knot in his stomach tighten, bile rising up his throat as he stared at the flecks of what he could only assume was blood peppering the foyer. A vase lay shattered on the ground, its fine china now in jagged pieces, as if someone had put up a fight.
The man held him tighter, leading him down the hallway and into a room at the back of his house. It was open and formal, one of the main rooms that he had often used for entertaining guests. Harry was unsurprised to find it occupied, its velvet sofas seating four men on each and a large chair had been dragged into the middle of the room.
The fireplace was dark, cold. Not a single flame lit the heart, meaning the only light source was from the unnatural off-white lamps that lined the mahogany walls.
Harry's eyes went straight to the chair.
Rope had been tied around the arms and legs, and in it, bond and gagged, sat his sister.
She looked peaceful almost, most definitely either sleeping or unconscious, her head lulled to the side at a rather awkward angle.
He struggled in the mans grasp, desperate to reach out to her, she looked so small, so fragile. Her features were pale and her head had a nasty gash slicing down from the middle of her forehead to the top of her left eyebrow. It was scabbing but Harry didn't like the yellow sheen it seemed to have, indicating an infection. She needed to be treated, and soon.
The man held tighter, gripping his arm so hard it felt as though it would snap, defiantly bruise.
"Gemma!" He called, voice hoarse as he tried to keep his tears at bay- crying would not help anyone.
She didn't respond. She didn't even move, her body staying eerily still.
Harry's head was, for once, silent, all of his attention focused on his sister.
"Now, now, Styles. There's no need for that. She's fine." A voice drooled.
He heard footsteps, unable to tear his eyes away from his sister.
The voice was strangely familiar and once again, Harry had to fight down the overwhelming feeling to be sick.
"Look at me." The man commanded.
Harry turned his head to the side with great difficulty, facing in the direction of the voice.
The man was wearing a long white shirt, faded blue jeans clung to his over weight waist and his hair was messy and bland.
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The Kidnapping (Larry Stylinson)
FanfictionWhen Harry Styles, singer and former member of the worlds biggest boy band, One Direction, is kidnapped, it causes them all to take action. The nearly deadly event sparks a new era for the band and swearing to live his life as if every day is his l...
