VIRULENCE | H.S |

~ 22 • H ~

Chapter Twenty Two - Harry's POV

A/N: This Chapter Contains Violence, Death, and Mentions of Suicide. I will be posting references below, but I wanted to post a full warning before. I love you.

"He...He doesn't have a pulse." James says, with a fear stricken tone.

I rush over onto my knees, untying Elton as quickly as I can, to try to feel a pulse in his wrist. After finding nothing, I reach to his neck, which also is a lost cause.

James is right--there is literally no pulse. There's absolutely nothing; He's gone.

"Fuck!" I yell forcefully.

This isn't good...at all. What am I supposed to do?

My thoughts take over-- their voices loud and triggering throughout my entire mind. My breath hitches in my throat and I can already feel the anxiety filtering through my bones. I go to speak, but nothing comes out-- I'm completely fucked.

I need to think, fast.

How could I let this happen? Why couldn't I just control my anger for once in my life?

I always do this, every single time.

Think, Harry. Think of a solution.

Then it dawns on me.

My father.

I have to call my father. He's my only option.

He's going to skin me alive when I tell him what happened.

"Christ, Harry! What have you done?" Chandler spits out, as I'm pulled at by my thoughts. I look up to him pacing back and forth in the cave, his breathing uneven.

Excuse me?

I know I fucked up, but that doesn't mean someone else can tell me that, I'm still processing this entire thing myself.

Hearing it from someone else just doesn't sit right with me. I've never been good with constructive criticism, and I don't like receiving it from anyone.

"What have I done? This was all of us! Don't blame all this shit on me! You're the one who wanted to use brass knuckles on him!" I counter, in a tone full of angst and bitterness.

I'm lying right through my teeth, because I know he's right; this was my fault. I just don't have the personality to admit it yet.

He chuckles sarcastically while shaking his head, and I know it isn't a genuine tone of laughter that's taking over his mood.

"He was alive up until you went all Scottish Highlander on him, Harry! You fucking threw a sword at his leg! You impaled him! And then, you beat him to a pulp, just like a vegetable! There's nothing left for him! Take some damn responsibility here, for the love of God!" He clears his throat, beginning to pace the length of the cave once again.

I stay silent, because I know he isn't finished yet.

"This is you, Harry! Don't you get it?! This entire year, and even some of last year, has resulted in us getting into deep shit because of your anger! The incident with Bre last year, the event with your old roomate, the situation that just happened this past week with Bre, yet again-- which, by the way, we're still getting punished for, and now, you're anger was so excessive you fucking killed someone?! I mean, come on! You have got to see how this is looking to us! This is absurd, truly ridiculous! We can't keep defending you! You do this to yourself! We were just going to beat him up, and you murdered him!" Chandler hits with every last inch of spite in his voice.