Apocalypse | L.S [Completed]

VI

TW: detailed graphic violence.

The uproar of the music felt like mere whispers as Louis closed the thick, carved cherry wood door behind him, sealing any sort of sound from escaping the room. He walks forward and washes his eyes over the room, twelve unfamiliar faces standing beside James. One would think Louis is a fool to enter a room with twelve strangers, keeping in mind the business he is engaged in, but, Louis knows better than anyone that if they try to as much as raise a finger on him, Zayn's people will rip all ten in a blink of an eye.

The room is sizeable to say the least, lingering smell of smoke and alcohol filling the air along with the antecedent feeling of the truculent events that are about to follow. Crimson chairs bedeck the charcoal room along with a grandiose table baring the weight of abundant food, cigars, liquor and guns. The Victorian chandeliers hang low, providing the room with a sense of luminescence and walls dressed up in masterpieces Zayn have created over the years. The room smells of power, money and death.

"Corden."

Louis acknowledges the bulky man in front while seating himself opposite to him on the sumptuous velvet chair.

"Tomlinson, my boy! Great to see you," James replies in his unflatteringly charming tone, cracking a smile just as charming. He looks warm, a different kind of warm, unlike Harry, but warm. "You, too, Corden. But why did you make an official appointment, James? This doesn't feel like a business talk to me." Louis voices his dilemma because an official appointment means a record, a record means potential evidence and evidence means being caught— something Louis isn't looking forward to in the near future.

"Well, I am here to talk business, son. It's regarding a certain assistant of yours," James assures and Louis' heart almost drops, almost, because Harry? Louis did not want to drag Harry in this life eating swamp. No! Louis did not care about the ever smiling kid, Louis, simply, didn't want his optimistic arse to fuck everything up. Harry is too naive to- "Earth to, Louis. I'm talking about that scheming cunt, Lucas" Louis exhales a breathe he was unaware of holding, relief easing in. But, isn't Stan supposed to be rotting six feet under?

"What about him? Last I remember, I asked Danny to take care of him,"

"Well, you see, a little birdie of mine has informed me that Lucas had reached out to Danny even before you could sentence him to death and they both joined hands to conspire behind our backs. As much as I wanted to believe that Danny is still faithful to us, I proved myself wrong when I saw the two leaving in the same car." James informs with a slight hint of sympathy. Danny was one of Louis' most faithful man, he had always proved it but, now, with what James has just said, Louis feels betrayed to his very core.

Just as they continue to speak, a few of James' men push in two tied up bodies, with face covered with a black cloth, inside the room.

"A humble gift for you, son."

James announces as his eyes shine with the crude hue of lust— lust for blood. James is a very calm person and is like a father to Louis, Zayn and Liam, but beneath that calm and kind, he has locked away a part of him only Louis, Zayn and Liam know about.

James thirsts for blood, murder is like a drug he is helplessly addicted to, he lived for murder and he does it in the most sadistic and painful manner that would leave any normal person witnessing, acting like a mad man. James' eyes almost flash red and Louis just knows the kind-hearted and calm James is far too gone in the haze of violence.

"Stan." Louis breathes out as the men rip off their masks. Stan lies on the floor, quivering like a pleading convict. "He's going to get you, Tomlinson, I promise you that. One way or the other, he'll get to you." Louis' eyes darken at the mention, his neutral demeanour changed to a challenged lion's. Stan's eyes fill up with fear and regret, and something tells Louis that Stan knows he will not see the sun tomorrow.