Animal

Chapter 14

It cannot be seen, cannot be felt, cannot be heard, cannot be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life, kills laughter.

*NARRATOR'S POV*

"I'm on my way." Harry curtly addresses the officer stationed at his apartment.

He stands and points towards Abram for the captain to follow him. Once outside, he covers the phone's speaker and uses no words when picking out an officer from behind his desk to follow as well.

"Was the apartment empty?" He asks the female security officer while they get into two different vehicles.

"Sir, we weren't able to locate the suspects but a witness says there were five."

"That's not what I asked." Louis. Harry's Louis was alone in that bloody apartment.

"When we responded to the 911 call, we found the apartment empty. We need you present for recov-"

"There was someone in the bedroom. My boyfriend. Where is he now?"

"We didn't find anybody, Mr. Styles."

"Well fucking find him now!" He barks, the anger rich in his voice. The true fear and worry was kept at bay to keep his hands from shaking.

"Would he have left before-"

"His name is Louis Tomlinson. Five foot eight with brown hair and blue eyes. He was asleep when I left. I have your captain with me and when I get there Louis better be waiting for me or I'll have your job." He hangs up after that and concentrates on getting through the streets without causing any accidents.

It's starting to rain, just the beginning has commenced with powerless droplets crashing down against Harry's windshield like little hurdles. He switches on the wipers and picks up his phone to dial the captain in the car behind him.

"Hel-"

"Put on your siren and get in front of me." Harry orders, slowing down for a full ten seconds for it to be done then speeding through neighbourhoods.

He had a tracker in Louis' phone but not the boy himself so he could anywhere, but Harry knows already who those 5 perpetrators are. He's mentally prepared their punishment and the finality of such a clean act made him lift his chin a little higher.

Louis has been keeping his eyes open against the heaviness of his eyelids. They'd shot something clear into his arm and two drops of blood fell out against his marble skin from the sloppy job. His body screamed at him to just sleep right now in the back of a ratty old bread van, but he needed to stay awake to record all the details he could.

He was gagged by a dirty cloth that tasted of car oil, and his teeth were hurting as he bit down. The cable ties around his wrists were cutting his skin and no matter how much he tried to ease up, the exhaustion too over and the slumping of his body worsened it.

From what he knows, his bum has suffered several bruises from the bumps of the journey that's been going on for less than fifteen minutes. His back was pressed against the door with metal biting his sides and back.
He had the option of moving away but that meant being closer to the jerks who dragged him from the bed - his head hit the ground before anything else with a sound thud - and across the apartment - his throat and lungs were weak from screaming - out the door.

He had nasty rug burns, scrapes from these strangers' nails and a lump on the side of his head. All these symptoms paired with the distraught alive within him, the doubts and insecurities, were making him exhausted. He still wonders where Harry went. If he left, if he just up and left.