The Gifts -Narry & Ziam- (AU) *Completed*

Chapter 6: Day Two Late Evening

Chapter 6: Day Two Late Evening

Five doggy cages line the left side of the wall, and four men are stuffed inside of the five by five metal dog crates. They’re all wide awake, the effects of the drugs used to put them under ebbing. No one speaks, their throats are raw and swollen, and their lungs are craving great lung-full’s of air they can’t gasp in through the narrowed slits of their throats. For a little while nothing is off, Harry and Louis both have to pee, and the indentions on both sides of Zayn’s spine are aching from long hours of disuse.

Liam is the one who notices it, his chest tight and his thoughts a little scattered, someone is missing. His heart leaps into his  throat, chocking him, the pain flashing white behind his eyes and drowning him, and his suspicions are confirmed when he looks across the row of mesh cages and doesn’t see him.. 

Doesn’t see Niall.

The room there in has a concrete floor, and the cages are connected to each other and separated by netting, and the crates themselves are implanted into the walls, with padlocks on the outside of the slim bars. Liam can jam only about three of his fingers through the gaps.

Harry, three doors down from Liam, turns his head, his curls fanning his face in a frizzy, messy halo. For a second brown meets green, and Harry jerks is head away in a panic, his mind moving as if through drying concrete, searching the room for too wide and too deep and too knowing blue eyes, and he comes up empty.  Pain flashes white hot behind his heart, blinding him, and his breath hitches in his throat. He rockets to his knees, and a hush has fallen in the room, in the country, as if the world itself is holding in giggles at Harry’s desperate misfortune. Harry launches himself against the cage door, gripping the cold, black metal bars in his fists and rattling with all of his might,

“Niall! Niall! Niall! Where is he? Where did you take him?” Harry shouts, his throat stinging, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. “Niall! Niall! Niall! Please, please don’t hurt him!” A single silver tear collects on his top eyelash, hanging there, and when he blinks it falls onto his cheekbones. The tear could mean a lot of things, and Liam watched it in silence as it curved over his cheeks, hooking at his jaw and slithered its way off of his face, splattering onto the green collar of his onesie.

There was about four feet of concrete spanning in front of the cages, and the hallway itself was a good fifteen feet long. On the left side was a solid blue door with a green handle and a keypad, no key hole and no windows.

It swung open, and three men bustled in, varying in size and shape, clutching Niall by his forearm and waist and rushing into the room with him. The men didn’t hesitate, slamming the door and throwing the petite blond towards the floor. He staggered, dragging his left leg limply behind him and fell heavily to his knees, bracing his scratched up palms on the floor and coughing. Blood splattered from his mouth, flecking his hands and the concrete beneath his curled fingers.

A man, the tallest of the three swaggered forward and use the blunt side of his fist to clock Niall on the back of his head. The Irishman crumpled, knees clanking together and turning to jelly as his elbows weakened. He collapsed heavily onto the concrete, chin making a sickening crunch on the hard ground as his head lolled to the side. His eyes rolled back momentarily, just as a man with frightening red hair steps forward, fisting a handful of bright blond hair, jerking his head up with a violent snap and using an open hand to strike Niall on his cheek.