Nightingale

twenty-eight

5500 words. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of heavy boots hitting the concrete flooring over our bedroom is all I hear but it's barely a whisper over the sound of my rapid heart beat. I'm trying to stay as silent as possible, muffling my cries with both of my hands clamped over my mouth. I am so overcomed by a multitude of emotions, some being from the events unfolding in this moment and others being from my worry for Harry. Hell for all of the boys.

"We got a phone on the ground." A male voice states, sounding like it's in the entry to our room.

"Were the police called?" Another voice asks, coming from the same place.

"No, the recent phone call was to Styles's sister."

"She's in here, find her, then kill her."

I hear what I think is the bathroom door open and try to come up with some sort of plan. Every time I've been in the closet there was always a gun on top of the dresser. I slowly stand up, blink away the few tears left in my eyes and shuffle around as quietly as possible, feeling the dark space around me blindly. When my hand grazes the smooth wood surface of the dresser I run my hand across the top waiting to feel the gun. When I don't feel it I internally scream. It has to be in here. There has to be at least one weapon of some kind in here. This is not how I'm going to die. I crouch down to the ground and try to feel for a duffle bag of some kind. I am not fucking dying today!

When a thick strap hits my hand I quickly pull the bag towards me and quietly feel around for a zipper, dragging the zipper open I shove my hand in and feel around. I grab the first thing my hand touches and it's a pistol I'm pretty sure. I feel around for the release to check the clip and make sure it's loaded but stop as I hear the footsteps leave the bathroom. I instead feel for the safety and make sure it's off then stand up and wipe a couple tears that fell down my cheeks again. These are the people who hurt Harry, it's one thing if you want to hurt me but hurt the people I care about and you have a fucking death wish. I channel all of that anger to prepare myself for what's behind the closet door. The only experience I have with a gun was when I shot out of a moving car yesterday and that wasn't too bad.

I hear the door handle slowly move, the smallest beam of light pouring into the room. I raise my arms and slightly aim for the door to be ready for whoever is shielded behind it. As the door opens even wider I see the person standing behind it and without hesitation shoot them directly in the center of their chest, their gun drops from their hold and they crash onto the floor, the sound of the gunshot ricocheting off the walls. 2 more men come into view and all I see is red, I'm fucking livid. Again I fire shots at them without a second thought. I missed 2 of the shots I fired but still ended up hitting both of them In the chest, their bodies laying on the floor with their buddy.

I step over the bodies and out of the closet, run towards the bed where my phone rests then run out of our room, not bothering to put on any shoes. I shove my phone into my back pocket and have the gun in my hand at the ready in case anyone else is in the house. Rushing down the stairs and almost tripping I head towards the front door. I rip the front door open, immediately greeted with 2 other men standing by a car. I quickly shoot one in the head, his body falling limp the second the bullet glides through his skull, then shoot the other man in the shoulder. I run up in front of him while he's distracted by his fresh wound and smash his head against the car.

"What the fuck did you do to Harry Styles!" I shout in the man's face as he falls to the ground, kicking away his gun that he dropped.

When he doesn't respond I nudge him onto his back with my foot then stomp it down directly on his dick, his back arches up off the ground with a loud scream leaving his mouth.