Vigilante | H.S.

4 | Admiration

Harry Styles

The scent of blood was stuck in my nostrils, I always assumed I'd get used to the smell eventually, but I never did. it was fucking disgusting, but at the same time I didn't hate the smell, sometimes I even enjoyed it because it reminded me of the countless number of useless sacks of shit that I've gotten rid of.

But sometimes, if I spent too long in a room, or if it hadn't been cleaned in a while, the scent became overpowering and made me feel sick.

Another useless sack of shit was sitting in front of me, crying in the chair begging for his life, rattling the chains around his wrists and ankles, as If it was going to set him free.

His ankles were chained together and his wrists were chained against the arms of the chair. His pleas and attempts to escape were useless.

He couldn't move. The rattle of the chains was echoing around the concrete walls, the room was small and had no windows, the only light coming from the swinging bulb above the chair in front of me.

My own little torture room, hidden underneath Zayn's tattoo parlour. The floor was stained a deep red colour, blood from the previous victims I had gotten rid of in this room.

His constant crying was starting to annoy me, part of me wondered if I could get away with just shooting him and telling the client that he wouldn't talk.

I rolled my eyes looking at the pathetic man in front of me, before turning and admiring the set of weapons laid out on the table in front of me.

I looked at them for a while deciding what weapon I could use, before picking up a simple butcher knife.

I made sure to drag it along the metal, so it let out a horrible high-pitched sound, telling the man that his time was running out. I looked at him behind my shoulder and stared at his terrified eyes.

He knew I was going to kill him soon, and the less he spoke, the more I would drag it out and the more it would hurt.

I kept my grip on the handle of the knife before turning my back to the table and leaning against it. I played with the knife in my hand, twirling it between my fingers and smiling to myself. Maybe I was enjoying much more than I should, but I couldn't bring myself to feel bad about killing.

Now comes my favourite part.

I took a small step forward, standing right in front of him as he shook his head looking at my feet and begging for his life. Without even thinking about it, I slammed the knife down on the arm of the chair. Slicing his hand off completely.

His cries stopped. He was completely silent, the rattling of the chains stopped as he froze in shock.

I squatted down to the floor and grabbed the back of his head with my other hand, pulling his hair and forcing him to look at me.

He was my assignment tonight, I was getting paid a lot for him, yet I had little idea who he was or what he'd done to piss someone off.

I mainly worked as a killer, that's what I classed my job as; a contract killer, who was anonymously sent clients that I would have to deal with. Sometimes I'd get a full name, address, picture and backstory, but that wasn't necessary.

I preferred when I got minimal information, I didn't give a shit about who they were and what their life story was, I just needed to know if they were worth spending my time on.

Zayn was like my sidekick when I did jobs, he always came with me, helped me catch the guy, but he never tortured them, that was where I had my fun.

Louis was the tech guy, keeping an eye on cameras, hacking shit that needed to be hacked, and finding people. Honestly I didn't know exactly what he did, I was shit with technology.