March 20th, 2010
It happened. It's been over a year since I completed my "pre-round". My scars have faded, but I don't think they will be gone for much longer. Yesterday I was hanging with Liam when I got the text. The guy made me open it within that hour and made sure I was far away, where no one could see or hear me. I didn't receive a task, just a note informing me I've started round one. How many fucking rounds are there going to be? How far will it go until it goes too far? Has it already gone too far?
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The cloudy sky casts a shadow over the town of Doncaster. It's the day after Harry and Niall's talk as well as when they told the boys about Harry and Louis' relationship.
"Harry!" Anne shouts from downstairs.
"What mum!?" Harry shouts back.
A moment later Anne is standing in Harry's doorframe.
"A package came for you," she says, handing him the brown cardboard box, and leaving.
what could this be-
oh.
Harry carefully opens the box and pulls out the price of paper sitting right on the top.
Mr. Harry Styles,
Please take this to the following address attached below. Do not open the bag! Hand it to the man at the address and receive $1,230 from him. Make sure all the money is there then leave the cash under the bush on the left side of your house.
Don't die,
H.T.
Harry's eyes grow wide at the initials. That's the closest thing he's gotten to receive the mystery man's identity.
He folds the paper and shoves it in his jean pocket. He takes out the black bag and places it carefully inside one of his backpacks. He takes a look at his phone. It was half past three. He reluctantly sends Niall a text saying he will be there in a few minutes before heading out the door and jumping in his car.
Minutes later Niall runs out his front door with a concerned look on his face.
"You okay? You've looked like you've seen a ghost," he informs.
"Nope, no ghost. Let's just get this over with," Harry starts the ignition once again and speeds off.
"Harry, I'm concerned. Are you sure you should be doing this?"
"First of all, I have to. You don't know what will happen if I don't, but I do. Second, I'm eighteen. I'm eighteen. I can handle myself," the curly one defends.
"Okay."
The car comes to an abrupt halt.
"Niall, stay here. I'll be in and out in a matter of minutes. If twenty minutes pass and I'm still not back, then you can come look for me, and only then. Please stay here. And don't draw attention to yourself."
"Fine," he huffs in response.
As Niall watches, Harry grabs the backpack and shuts the car door. He throws the keys at Niall.
"Make sure you lock it," Harry reminds.
"Yeah, yeah."
The alleyway in front of Harry had very limited light seeping in. It was dusty and garbage was spread out all along the floor. The obvious smell of cigarettes and weed entered Harry's nostrils as he walked deeper into the alley. Up ahead was a door. A rusted steel door with the numbers '163'. Harry calmly brought up his knuckles and hit them against the door in a pattern.
"Who is it?" I groggy voice spat from the other side of the metal.
"I'm here with the stuff."
"Okay, all right. One second."
A man with baggy clothes and barely any hair walked out. He had a white mustache and the soles of his shoes were torn. He held a beer bottle in his left hand and a wad of cash in his right.
"Here," the guy harshly shoved the cash in Harry's hand.
"Thank you," Harry replied quietly.
The door shut again and Harry turned around to head back to the car when instead he was pulled back. Frantically looking around there were three insanely buff men, maybe in their 30's - early 40's.
The next thing Harry knows is that he is on the ground, cheek pressed to the cold floor, and in pain. The men continue to kick Harry's stomach and beat the life out of him.
Struggling to breathe, Harry blacks out.
The men run off and minutes later a screaming Niall runs up to the unconscious boy.
"Harry! Oh my god Harry! I knew I should've gone with you! Oh Harry! Oh my god! Oh my god!"
Niall struggles but eventually manages to lift the boy and holds him bridal style while walking out of the alley to Harry's car. Niall opens up the back door and lays Harry down on the back seats.
In a desperate need for a hospital, Niall rushes himself into the drivers seat and takes the wheel.
Ten minutes into the drive Harry's eyes flutter open.
"Ni?" he croaked out, his voice hoarse.
"Harry! Oh my god Harry!"
"Shh.."
"Sorry, how are you feeling?" Niall lowers his voice.
"M'fine. Im not bleeding which is good. It's not that bad...luckily," Harry says while pulling up his shirt to see his stomach and chest filled with red and purple bruises.
"Anything broken?"
"I don't think so."
"Do you still want me to take you to the hospital? We are five minutes away."
"No..no 'm fine. Just need to sleep. That's all," Harry insisted.
"Okay. If that's what you want."
The drive continues in silence and the pair eventually reach Harry's place. Harry limps up the stairs and slowly gets into bed. Niall insisted on staying over and sleeping on the couch to keep an eye on Harry.
YOU ARE READING
twisted dares - l.s.
Fanfiction"It's like I'm a puppet in some sort of sick, twisted story." A dare. A fucking dare. That's all it took for 13-year-old Harry's life to crumble and shatter into a million pieces. 5 years later, at the age of 18 and a senior in high school, his l...
