By the way, this is rather dark so if you don't like punk and death and blood stuff, don't read.
"I'll be back later," Zayn said, grabbing his keys and shrugging on his leather jacket. He stuck a cigarette in his mouth. "Expect me to be late."
Harry took his cigarette out of his mouth. "Okay. See you later."
Zayn went out to his car, checking if he had all of the items he needed. He hopped in, driving to his destination.
He parked his car, going to the trunk. He pulled out his knife and closed the trunk. He went up to the front of the house, knocking on the door.
The door opened to reveal a tall, lean man. "Malik."
Zayn just nodded his head. "Come in." Zayn walked in, looking around the house. He turned back to the man.
"Do you have the stuff I wanted?" Zayn asked.
"Umm. About that..." He seemed worried. Zayn walked closer, putting his hand in his pocket. He found the handle of his knife, clutching onto it.
"You don't have it?" Zayn asked, a bit aggravated. He moved so close, he was basically hovering over the man.
"I-I'm sorry! I tried to get it but there was none left!" He held his hands up to protect himself.
"It's too late for sorry," he muttered. He didn't waste a second shoving the blade of his knife into the man's chest.
He let out a cry in pain and dropped to the floor. Blood began pooling around him.
Zayn got down on his knees, taking his knife again. He touched the blade to the man's forehead, engraving something in it.
It was only a second later that Zayn heard police sirens. He quickly ran out of the house, throwing his jacket and knife in the trunk and driving off.
Eventually the police showed up to investigate the scene. They brought in flashlights.
The first thing they saw in the doorway was a man surrounded by blood.
The only thing left was something engraved in his forehead.
ZM
*~Back at Zarry's house~*
"Did he have any?" Harry asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.
"None," Zayn said, putting his jacket on the hook and grabbing a cigarette.
"Fuck," Harry mumbled. "Well, there's another one for the wall."
Zayn took a pice of chalk, going into their secret room. He drew a tally mark on another set of four, making another full set of five.
You see, Zayn was a serial killer. He had a drug problem as well as smoking. He kills someone whenever he doesn't get what he wants.
His boyfriend of three years, Harry, had a serious smoking and drug problem. A true addict. He didn't believe in killing people, but he knew there was no talking Zayn out of it.
"Backup it is then," Harry said.
"Oh come on, Harry. I've already bought so much from him."
"Zayn, I need my stuff. Get it!"
"Fine." Zayn went into the backyard, going out the back door to an alley. "Payne."
"Malik. What do you want?" He asked.
"Harry wants more."
"Okay." Payne dug through his jacket pockets before pulling out a bag of white stuff. "Cocaine."
