The Monster [H.S.]

Chapter 9

"Have we given you what you need?" I ask Harry as he walks back into the room.

He's been gone all day and I feel slight insanity dancing on my mind as I stare at 3 walls everyday - I can't even see the 4th because I'm leant against it and the bed is next to me. I would love to look at the 4th grey wall.

"No. But it better happen soon" he snaps.

"Why?" I ask.

"Because then there's no need for you to welcome death, because you'll become it" he scowls.

I feel a slight pang in my chest at his words, but I don't care enough. I would have held on for Daryl, but they took him.

"Why can't you tell me what you need?" I almost plead.

He just shakes his head as he looks through his drawer.

"How many did you kill on the anniversary?" I wonder. I didn't even ask Steve when I escaped. I still wonder about the little boy.

"I'm not sure, we sent about 4000 into the camp" he shrugs.

"What?! We only have a population of about 6000!" I scream.

Could they all be dead? I wasn't even outside the infirmary when I was there, I didn't see the devastation caused that I normally help to fix.

"How many came back?" I shout through gritted teeth.

He doesn't answer, and I feel anger mount in my stomach. My instinct is to jump for him, but my chest aches like hell. I look down to see I am now wearing some sort of white cloth you might find on a fucking monk. I try to look through the neck line to my wounds but it is flat against my chest.

"I need the bathroom" I say.

Have I been in the past week? Maybe, I've been concussed for about 60% of it.

"Use your bucket." he scrunches his nose.

"Okay, but I have splash back so enjoy cleaning it from your carpet" I taunt.

"For fuck sake" he groans.

He unlocks the chains from the pole behind me and holds onto them as they are still locked onto my wrists. He opens a door I hadn't seen before - 4th wall - and chains me to the pole behind the toilet.

"Do you just have spare poles lying about?" I say and he grunts.

At least I don't have cuffs and I can move my arms around.

I flush the toilet and strain my hands to reach the sink. As I look into the mirror I don't even recognise myself. My face is swollen, a large purple tinting on my cheek where Zayn Malik punched me. Asshole. There are bags under my eyes and several cuts all over my face. My hair is tied up and has been for the last week. I don't care much, really, I've never cared for my looks. I'm not pretty so I don't have much to lose.

"Are you doing a shit or something?" Harry bangs on the door, and I slightly smile.

I hate him. He keeps making me laugh and smile and shit. I would love nothing more than to drag a knife across his throat though he has quite a good sense of humour - I'll give him that.

"Open the door" I snap, and the door flings open, Harry walking in with the key and unlocking me.

He leads me back to the side of the bed by my chains and pushes me to sit down. I focus on my breathing again as he chains me, the sudden bending making my stomach clench with pain.

Suddenly the door flies open, an angry Paul Higgins walks in with its nostrils flaring.

"Get it up and through to the office. We are aborting Mission Eripe and starting up Mission Proditione" it commands before slamming the door shut behind it.