"Ten seconds," Liam spat at the smaller person, sternly.
Niall looked up at the older man and blinked twice before he replied as non-shaky as possible. "O-okay."
The fake-blond bit into the other's neck as softly as he could.
Liam started to count...
Niall was motionless as everything was happening around him. The sight was too unreal to be true. Only stuff like this happened in the movies, to think someone was this psychotic was scary.
The door burst open and Louis ran up to Niall, coiling his arms around his shoulders, shaking. He ignored the scene in front of him. He buried his face into the Irishman's nape, whispering things like: "I'm so glad you're okay," to him. It was supposed to be a reassurance to Niall but it also helped himself calm down.
Liam and Harry instantly went up to the window, watching their feet as broken glass and blood was all over the ground. Zayn stayed at the outside area, wildly calling 911 since everyone rushed ahead of him and he had to stop the car.
A moment ago.
"... see you soon," Justin whispers.
He took the knife in his hand and swung it up to his left shoulder, causing it to penetrate his skin deeply. Justin winced, looked at Niall with a fond face, and continued. The knife slashed across his body in a swift motion, the Canadian struggling to get it through.
"Man, it's already kicking in," he said, swaying whilst Niall watched the horror that was his body.
Car doors slammed closed and wood was harshly breaking. The Irishman couldn't feel relief or anything of that matter. He wasn't prepared.
"Bye, love," Justin said as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the fragile glass.
His weight was enough for it to crack and let him fall.
Surrounded by shards and blood, this was enough for him realize his life in smoke and mirrors.
"We need to get out of here. Take Niall into the car and have Zayn drive. Liam and I will stay here with the police," Harry orders, eyes beating down at Louis.
The latter nodded and brought his arms under Niall's, pulling him up. Niall was still in shock, his legs were shaking and it was difficult for him to stand up on his own. Plus with his lack of blood, it was promoting the wobbliness.
"I- I don't think I can do this," the blond breathes, letting his legs go out and collapsing underneath him. He steadied himself with his hands and clutched the wall.
Louis gasps at the action. "Niall!" He tries to lift him again. "Harry, I can't take him down alone."
"Here, let me," Liam says, rushing through the door to grab Niall.
The blond's eyes dashed up in fear of Liam and shook his head, scooting back swiftly.
Liam pleads, "Let me help you, Niall."
He shook his head in reply, keeping his eyes on the ground. All that was happening was too much for him to comprehend. A massive headache was developing and he clenched his eyes shut, curling in on himself. Darkness envelopes his mind and he lets himself be lifelessly carried to another destination.
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There's no noise besides calm footsteps and finger tapping. It was reassuring to know the white noise is still alive. After being in a place of constant eeriness and being aware of every single movement, it's peaceful.
Niall opens his eyes, being very aware of where he was. He looked to the side and cringed at the IV in his arm. His hospital gown crinkled in sound as he squirmed to get comfier. A gasp sounded along with the call: "Niall!"
He rotated his head to the other side of the room. Only Harry was there and he stood up seeing Niall's state.
"I'm going to go get the nurse," he said, rushing out of the room. The Irishman heard a soft, "Thank God," before he left.
Truthfully, he didn't know what to comprehend.
His life has been complete Hell since he got taken in by his "mates." It's heard across the world that fate is never wrong. Fate is the truth. Fate will help you. That's how people were paired up. Half of it was to prevent war from repeating. the other was to help couples live an easy life.
For some reason, it did work. Regular citizens don't think much of it, in fear that their lives could go wrong if they question how they've come to be. However, another thing that doesn't get talked about is the groups that don't work out. Possibly because it never happens, or so they say.
The small percentage that maybe, maybe, it doesn't work out. That's what Niall is part of.
"Hello, Mr. Horan," a low, but not threatening voice, said.
Niall lifted his eyes, only staring at the man with authority. "Hi," he softly says.
The doctor proceeds to tell everyone wrong with Niall. From the bruises on his body to the mental instability he might have. There was no sugar coating it. He was fucked up in more ways than one.
After he finished, Niall just muttered an, "Okay." He didn't pay attention to half of what he said because he was already aware.
"I will discuss your medication and bill to whomever will meet me at the counter," and leaves.
Moments of silence pass for a couple minutes. Soon, the whole crew is in the room with him. It gives him anxiety knowing that the spotlight was on him this time. He knew what was wrong, but it hurt his head to think about.
"Are you..." Liam hesitates. "Are you okay?"
Niall felt his throat close and he clenched his teeth. "No, Liam. I'm not okay."
