Killing You (Ziall)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Reluctantly, Zayn was pulled from his dreams-- or more accurately, nightmares-- when his subconscious alerted him to a warm weight pressing over the left side of his body. He opened his eyes groggily, muttering curses to himself as his arm began to tingle with tiny pinpricks stabbing at his flesh.

After his mind cleared, he found himself face-to-face with none other than Niall.

Wait... Niall?!

Zayn was positive he had locked the boy up again. How the hell had he gotten loose?

He pulled his arm out from under Niall's limp body and quickly scrambled as far from the boy as possible. Zayn sat stiffly against the oak headboard observing the blonde lad as his chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. He looked so peaceful and angelic his hair flattened against his pale forehead, the sunlight shining perfectly over his skin.

He had to remind himself once again that Niall was a Task he had been assigned to kill. He couldn't be sleeping in the same bed as him; Zayn knew sooner or later he would loose control and take Niall right then and there.

The fact that he couldn't have Niall coupled with the fact that the boy had escaped his confines, even daring to crawl into Zayn's bed with him, enraged the killer. Even after he had repeatedly told his victim he would be next to die, he still wouldn't give up on his captor and believe him when he said he was a monster. The only problem with Niall as far as Zayn could tell was that he was far too trusting. And that could just put his life in grave danger.

Zayn grabbed the peacefully sleeping lad from the bed and threw him easily over his shoulder. A quiet snore escaped Niall's plump lips, but his eyes stayed closed.

Zayn easily carried the featherlight boy back down the stairs and into the familiar confines of his basement where he dumped him in a heap on the floor. The blonde stirred slightly but still, his blue eyes stayed masked behind his pale eyelids.

The first thing Zayn had to do was find out how Niall had gotten loose. Another thought drifting around in his head caught his attention, though. If he hadn't been chained any longer, why hadn't Niall made a run for it? He could have easily left Zayn and this awful place he called home, but instead, he had chosen to slip into Zayn's bedroom and sleep pressed to the killer's chest. Was it possible that Niall's feelings toward the older boy were just as confused as his own?

If that was the case, Zayn knew he was in trouble. He had overstepped his boundaries by letting his feelings run rampant. This had to stop. Immediately.

So Zayn did what he was best at. He hardened himself toward his feelings and went to inspecting the shackles that swung purposelessly from the ceiling, clanking together in a series of little jingles. He reached a tan hand out to one of the cuffs to see how it was possible that the blonde lad had escaped. The cool metal against his sensitive fingertips reminded him so much of his favorite knife and that was all he needed to transform himself back into the old, murderous Zayn. His fingers itched with the need for blood and he searched frantically for his knife once he had fixed the shackles.

The weapon was nowhere to be found. And then Zayn realized. He had left it in the shed out back when he had been too busy burying his other victims.

He quickly relocked Niall's sleeping form and hurried up the stairs and through the kitchen before swinging the door open quickly. The cool air hit him square in the face. It felt strangely refreshing after having been cooped up inside for such a period.

The killer briskly crossed the grassy backyard to the little building. The wooden door was swinging open, rocking back and forth in the wind. Weird, he could swear he had left it closed. The thought didn't really faze him, however, and he went inside to retrieve his prized possession.