PULSE [H.S]

011

"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing." — Albert Einstein

The embarrassment and guilt found me quickly after I left the gym this morning.

The ease with which Harry unraveled all of my secrets is alarming. I feel guilty about screaming at him, but he was so out of line. I genuinely can't even begin to comprehend why he thought it was okay to lift up my shirt and jump to conclusions like that all on his own.

The look in his eyes still burns into me. He looked so pissed off, like he was ready to kill someone. I don't think I've ever seen that look on his face before.

I'm not sure how I feel about rage quitting the gym, but there's other gyms around. Hopefully with trainers that respect my privacy.

The worst part of all of it is that I forgot my sketchbook in the gym locker. It must have fallen out of my bag when I left in such a hurry and yanked it out of the locker.

My sketchbook holds all of my tattoo designs for past and future clients. It's probably the most important thing I own. I am praying to the heavens that it's still there.

I thought about texting Clove to grab it for me so I don't have to show my face at that gym ever again, but then I'd probably have to give her some sort of explanation about what happened, and I don't want to do that either. I have clients tomorrow, so unless I want to redraw all of their designs, I need my sketchbook back.

It's almost 11, and I forget what time the gym is open until, but I was out anyways, so I figured I would check and see. It would be better to grab it now, when Harry hopefully isn't there, compared to tomorrow, when I know I'd see him.

When I pull into the parking lot, I'm relieved to see a few cars around, and the lights are on inside the gym. I can't imagine training this late at night.

I walk into the gym, and it's empty. There's not a person in sight, and it's eerily quiet.

I'm relieved nobody is around, but it's slightly alarming. There isn't even anyone behind the front desk. All of the people from the cars have to be somewhere, and it's not adding up that there's so many cars yet no one inside.

Alright, I tell myself, I'm just going to grab my book and go.

When I see my book at the bottom of the locker, I almost cry in relief. I give the cover of it a giant kiss. Thank God. I'm so fucking happy I didn't lose this.

I head out of the locker room, but the sound of voices freezes me in my tracks.

You know that feeling you get when you know that something is wrong? When your gut feels off and it's just a horrible feeling of... wrong? That feeling overcomes me when I hear those voices. I feel like I am not supposed to be here right now.

I inch my way to the corner so I can see who is out there.

And then I hear it.

A bone-chilling, heart-wrenching scream.

My first hope is that they're having a late night boxing match. That sounds realistic.

But that scream was so much more than someone being jabbed in a boxing ring.

My body is shaking as I force myself to look around the corner. The sight is worse than I could have imagined. Standing on the corner mat across the gym are a bunch of figures, all dressed in black.

What frightens me the most is the last figure I see. He's sitting in a chair in the middle of the others, with his head lulled to the side. One of the standing figures moves a little, and I get a clear view of the man's face in the chair. His face is red, covered in blood. The blood is dripping off of him and onto the floor.