The Games (Ziall)

Before The World Was Made

" Why should he think me cruel
Or that he was betrayed? 
I'd have him love the thing that was
Before the world was made" 
~ William Butler Yeats

There are twenty-four big white tiles on the ceiling. Zayn knows. He has been staring up at the ceiling ever since he laid down on the bed, counting the same tiles over and over again. The note from his boyfriend he had thrown on the floor, not caring where it landed. 

Zayn hasn't moved from his spot on the bed since he got there. He has no idea how much time has passed, but Niall had promised him food within the hour. And Niall is always exactly on time. That means that the first hour in his prison cell was not yet over. 

Knowing Niall, Zayn is sure that the blond man is watching him with a camera installed in the room somewhere. He doesn't bother to look for it. The younger one out of the two has probably hidden it somewhere Zayn will never find it. Why would he even try? There is nothing Niall hasn't seen before anyway. 

So instead, the raven-haired man decides to bore whoever is watching him and does nothing but count the tiles on the ceiling. After that, he starts counting the little grey spots covering them. Three hundred and thirty-four, he soon concludes and sighs. 

How long will Niall be keeping him in this room? Zayn had calmed down after the test he had gone through just an hour prior. The water had almost killed him and Niall didn't really seem to care. The surprised look on his boyfriend's face when he made it out had hurt Zayn. That wasn't his Niall. Not the one he fell in love with anyway. 

He doesn't understand how things had escalated like this. Usually, Niall is very punctual when it comes to taking his pills. At six pm sharp he would swallow two different pills with water. It was always the same. Zayn should have noticed something was off. 

But now it is too late. He didn't notice and Niall fell back into his old habits. Zayn ended up in a cage, fighting for his life. 

He doesn't even want to think about the rest of the tests yet. 

The door swings open, hitting the wall with a slight thud. Zayn sits up startled at the sudden noise and looks as the same thing as before enters the room. This time he gets a better look at it and frowns at the terrible sight in front of him. 

The thing is definitely a cyborg. Zayn has no other way to describe it. Most of it is made out of metal parts. It has steel arms and legs. Tubes connect the different parts to each other and a clear, yellowish liquid runs through them to keep the different parts moving smoothly. The part that revolts Zayn the most is where the flesh meets the metal. The torso of it is made out of human flesh and for a moment, Zayn wonders if it would feel warm if he placed his hand on it. The only thing stopping him from getting any closer is the careless way in which the parts are connected. He wouldn't want to touch the thing in a million years. 

The flesh has been cut off carelessly. The edges are rough as if someone had ripped the arm out of the torso. Or sawn it off. The muscle tissue hadn't been sewn closed. Instead, Zayn gets a distasteful view on the bare muscles and blood vessels of the thing. Its face is constructed in the same way. Half of its face is made out of mechanical parts, but the other part looks entirely human. Blue eyes, long brown hair. Zayn wouldn't be able to tell if this face had once belonged to a woman or a man, it is misformed that badly.

It moves further into the room as Zayn watches it closely. The movements of the thing are mechanical, in short shocks, but the tray balanced on its arms stays steady the entire way to the small table. 

Zayn shakes his head. This must be another one of Niall's creations. A prototype that had gone horribly wrong. Zayn had never seen Niall settle for anything like this. He usually works on his robots until they are finished to perfection. But then again, Zayn had never seen Niall build anything even remotely close to this. He almost can't imagine that the cute blond had used a real human body to create this thing. The thought makes him want to puke.