The Monster [H.S.]

Chapter 14

I lay in bed, the soft quilt lightly warming my cold skin. It was mild, a slight chill occasionally shivering down me. The moonlight dripped through the skylight, coating the room in a glowing cocoon, colouring everything it touched in a silver glaze.

All I could do was stare at the cream marble, suspended in the cerulean sky, infinite stars and galaxies among it. It was infinite. All I ever wanted to be was infinite; immeasurable; limitless. As I got older I only became more limited. I couldn't even walk in the field that surrounded my home because it was said to be 'excluded'. They made me finite, so I'll make them repentant.

• • • • • • •

"Turn" Niall Horan instructed as I pivoted so my back faced it with my arms stretched out.
"Turn" it instructed once more, and I swivelled to find the constant frown set upon its face.

This was the 3rd time they had searched me today. They wouldn't explain why nor would they search my body. It was more of an examination. They just kind of observed me, I suppose.

But I knew. Something was happening. My gut shrivelled with knowledge each time they examined me but I didn't know. Whatever it was must be serious as they are going to their limits to hide me from it. When I ask why, they hit me. When I persist, they sedate me. It's been happening for around 3 days, 2 of which Harry has been missing. I woke up to find 3 of the disciples outside my door, refusing to let me out. Today they let me, but things feel different. There's no longer a linger of darkness or an aroma of rum and black currant, and for some reason it discomforts me. It makes me feel empty; vulnerable.

"She's clear" Niall Horan speaks into the collar of its leather jacket before pushing me onto the ground and chaining me to the radiator pole.

"Clear of what" I roll my eyes with tiredness of naivety and expectancy of no answer.

My head snaps to the side as Niall Horan rams its fist into my cheek, and I open my mouth to retrieve the feeling it punched out of it.

"Did I say you could speak?" It spits rhetorically, but I have an answer.

"No, I surprisingly didn't ask" I furrow my eyebrows with obviousness and it sighs heavily, scrunching up its fists in a restrain to kill me.

"Harry may put up with your shit, but your pushing my patience to the fucking limit" it spits, clenching its teeth.

I can't be bothered retaliating as I look around the room. Zayn Malik and Liam Payne stand in one corner looking at some sort of device, and Louis Tomlinson sits on the sofa next to Niall Horan watching some form of entertainment.

"I need 3 of you with me. Now." Paul Higgins growls as it stomps down the stairs, leaving a loud echo in its place.

"Liam, you're the strongest. Stay." Zayn Malik instructs, following the other mutants upstairs.

It doesn't even look at me or acknowledge that it is to supervise me, it just sits staring at the device. My eyes begin to burn with tiredness and my stomach screams with hunger, my gag reflex on alert. I am devastatingly dehydrated as my tongue heaves for water, my whole body going into lock down with the lack of energy. I feel deathly, like I could faint or vomit any moment, but I have to stay awake. I have to remember my plan to side with them, but I need to find a believable way to do it. Deception comes with precision, and precision will be the key to success.

When I was younger I was so gullible: so naive to the lies and deceit of those around me I would believe every word that came from anyones mouth. As I became older I became more skeptical and more guarded, but it is still in my nature to be trusting, no matter how high I build my wall. If Steve wants to knock it down, I believe that is the only way to do it. But being gullible makes it harder to translate a lie that is long lasting. I'll never now whether they truly believe it it not, and if I say the wrong thing I'm caught if they were suspicious.