Outliers [L.S]

12

Before we start I just wanted to say thank you to all of you <3

Louis' POV:

A puddle of blood sat at my feet. It's dark red color almost blended in with the black tar. I trailed my eyes slowly across its matching smear path.

A woman laid limp not to far away. She was covered in blood. Mainly around her chest.

I took slow steps towards her, before kneeling beside her. I reach my hand out, placing two fingers on her pulse point on her neck. Nothing.

I feel a presence come from behind me. They kneel beside me, placing a bloody hand on my thigh. Rings were on this hand. I would recognize that from anywhere.

I look up to Harry's face. He stares at me gently. A face full of lust. He reaches his other matching blooded hand to my cheek. He rubs his thumb softly across my cheek bone, leaving a wet trail of blood.

"Good job darling, Troy will be proud of us," he whispers gently.

He slowly moves in to my face, placing a warm tender kiss to my lips.

I sit up in bed quickly. I glance around at my surroundings, confirming in fact it was just a dream.

Or nightmare.

The worst part is that I had woke up by accident. I had been enjoying it.

Well, for some reason I enjoyed the last part. I don't know whats wrong with me.

I toss the covers from my body, before slinging my legs over the edge of my bed. The letter still sat on my bedside table. It seemed to be glaring at me. It's dark words were stabbing it's way into my brain, and making their self at home. Similar to some kind of stupid parasite.

I worried deeply inside myself that Harry was doing as my father told him. Just yesterday I killed someone with no guilt. Harry even had said I could do it. He wanted me to do it, didn't he?

They wouldn't succeed in their plan, I would make sure of that.

Maybe I should just confront Harry? Tell him their isn't a point in even trying because it won't work. I don't want a world full of legal murder. Or for that matter, where everything was legal.

Perhaps I do end up confronting Harry and he just lied? Told me he wasn't trying to convert me. Wouldn't that just be him converting me? If I trusted him even a little I would be easily converted unwillingly.  The only solution would be getting a way out, but with Harry there was no way out. I was stuck.

An idea popped into my head, and I quickly got up. I walked to my closet, pulling out a random navy blue sweater along with grey sweats. I slipped them on, and give myself a once over in the mirror. I looked like a dead person with all the beaten marks on me.

I've been through so much more within just a month than I have in a lifetime. I haven't even looked at my chest and stomach, because I knew what I would find. It would disgust me. I rather just pretend the bruised marks weren't there.

I sighed quietly and turned from the mirror. I opened my bedroom door, and walked into the hall. I made great effort in pretending Harry's office wasn't just down the opposite side of this hall. But it seemed to be haunting me...