Psycho || h.s.

Chapter 23

Zayn

'Found dead, Women identified as Trisha Malik, killed by knife wo-'

No... She.. She can't be dead.

That's why that son of a bitch went missing for a couple of days.

Fucking hell, Harry Edward Styles, if you want war, welcome aboard. 

I pull my phone out and dial the beloved number.

"Zayn, how are you love?" She says warmly.

"I'm great Ms. Twist, and you?"

PLOT FUCKING TWIST BITCHES
(If you thought she was dead cause Harry said so in the last couple chapters, you obviously didn't think Zayn was gonna be the killer so BOOM)
---

"My goodness Zayn, it's been forever." She says hugging me.

"Indeed it has.. did you hear the news...?" I say my eyes lowering, only to be brought back up, my guard remaining at its stance.

"About what?" She asks, her eyes softening down a moment.

"My mum.. she was killed." I say sadly, my voice cracking in the end.

"Oh, darling, I am so sorry. I've been gone for ages, and not even Harry knows I'm around." She runs up and hugs me.

"He'll know now" I bitterly chuckle, grabbing the knife from my pocket and turning her so that the knife lays on her neck, one slide away from killing her.

"Wha-.. Why?" She asks, and I bitterly chuckle.

"We'll ask Harry why, my dear" I say, pulling out my phone, dialling his number.

I press speaker and it answers after 5 rings.

"What the fuck do you want?" Harry says, and I press the knife a little harder to Anne's neck, whispering 'talk' in her ear.

"I love you, Harry, please know that." She says, her voice cracking.

"Wait.. no. It can't be. I am going crazy. Zayn stop fûcking playing, fuck off. She's dead." He says.

"Or is she?" I laugh.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I had to hide from your father and get away. I am so sorry, I love you. I'm alive, it's me." She says.

Harry

"Not for long.." Laughs erupt from Zayn on the other end of the line.

"What?" I yell, now angered. Oh this fûcker is going to get it.

"We'll call it even, won't we? You killed my mum, I kill yours? Everyone is happy, right?" He says, and I hear my mum shriek.

"Except you'll listen." He says, and I get up from my seat, completely angered that I can't do anything to stop this.

Soon, I hear one last scream, and the familiar sound of a knife against skin, a body --my mum's body-- falling against the floor.

"FUCKING HELL" I scream, throwing my phone against the wall, causing a large dent in the wall.

'He is going to pay for this, I will ruin him..' I mumble to myself, my hand running through my hair.

"Harry? What's wrong, and why were you yelling?" Raisa asks, her voice raspy. She must have been sleeping.

Her tan, olive legs are shown by the oversized shirt she is wearing, and I wonder if there's anything else under that thin piece of clothing.

I am one moody mother fûcker.