Priory // h.s.

chapter fifty-nine

The pounding of my feet on the stairs is inescapably loud, yet it's only background music to the frantic hammering of my heart. I fly up the staircase like a girl possessed, my legs nearly skidding out from under me on a few occasions, my hair whipping out behind me. 

It takes me mere minutes to reach my destination, Damon's primary haunt, and then I'm on my knees in the dark of the office room, crawling around like a blind mole in a tunnel. As I reach the commode, I bang my knee painfully against the bottom metal corner, biting back a swear word. Silence is imperative.

Fumbling for the final drawer, the one labeled 'Lab 3', I note with relief that it's unlocked. Thank God for the secretary's carelessness. If it was locked, I didn't know what I'd do(probably have a breakdown?).

Now, to find the file I'm looking for.

Fingers sifting through the various manilla folders, I finally locate the one I need. My heart pounds up in my throat, nearly choking me with fear. Images of Harry's face play through my mind, the flash of terror in his emerald eyes as he threw himself in front of me to protect me from Maura, taking the injection that was meant for me, the needle sinking into his flesh. The fading rasp of his voice as the men in black took him away, all while he was still half-conscious, calling out my name.

I start to shake, uncontrollably. Papers flurry from my loosened grasp as I clutch the end of the drawer, trying to resist the urge to dry-heave a nonexistant, uneaten dinner from my stomach. 

I'd seen what had happened to Steve, Damon's pet monkey, from experiencing one tiny dose of the syringe. Harry had taken an entire vial of it. How long before its effects took hold? How long before he too was nothing but a cold, dead body in my arms?

There has to be something in these folders to help me. I can't let Harry die for me, I just can't. Frantically, I paw through the papers till I reach the one entitled 'Project Invect'. There's an entire section called 'Victims', but it's mostly empty. There are only two sheets in there. One is for Steve the monkey, and it's simply stamped with the word "TEST"; after all, Damon only bought him as a lab rat of sorts, anyway.

I reach for the other sheet, which has the name Harry Styles scrawled neatly across the top. Under Reason For Elimination, someone has written "knows too much", as well as my name. I catch my breath. Why am I a reason Harry needs to be eliminated? 

There's no "TEST" stamp on Harry's sheet, unlike on Steve's.

Instead, there is a single, cruel word. It says "INVECTED 001".

I realize what the number means. Harry is only the first of their victims, the first to receive that awful poison in those vials they keep. Undoubtedly, there will be more, but I simply can't bring myself to care. All I can think is, Harry is going to die. They have him, and they're going to let him die. He'll be the first human to be Invected. 

There's no question: we've failed our mission, utterly and completely. My enemies are probably miles away, throwing darts at a poster of me right now. All I can hope to do is try to find Harry. I cannot live and know that he died taking the Invect for me. I simply can't. I have to try, I have to-

"Amber." The door to the office flies open, and I spring to my feet, thinking I've been caught.

Thank God, it's only Jillian. I'm about to step forward and tell her we need to go find Harry when I see the ghostly-scared look on her face. I haven't seen her this scared since Kenneth- "Jillian? What's wrong?"

"The hangar's open," she whispers. 

I stumble a little, my mind not quite processing what she's saying. "W-what?"