Monsters Inside Him (Completed)

Chapter 15: "Because I Love You"

Chapter 15: "Because I Love You"

I stared at the door with a hateful glare for a little bit, just waiting for Zayn to return to beat the shit out of me, but he never did. Every so often I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and opened them quickly, expecting him to just appear in those few seconds, but he didn't. Maybe he was waiting. Waiting for his friends to leave so no one could hear my screams of pain when he beats me mercilessly.

With a weak sigh, I crawl over to the bed in the middle of the room and clamber under the covers. If I'm waiting for my inevitable doom, I may as well be comfortable. I snuggled up tightly, being careful not to touch any of my already existing bruises. I knew I would be in more pain when Zayn comes barging in here. Speaking of which, he never came. I lay awake for a few hours waiting for him, but finally succumbed to my droopy lids.

I woke up to complete darkness. I half expected Zayn to be sitting in the chair in the dark corner, but to my relief he wasn't there. It looked as if no one had been in the room since I dozed off. Mustering up as much strength as I could, I pushed out of bed and flung my body at the door. It didn't budge.

I cried and screamed and begged through the door, but I received no response. In fact, I didn't hear anything on the other side of the door. Huh, maybe Zayn's friends left. Maybe, if I was lucky, Zayn left too. Maybe he left as one final act of kindness and let me starve to death in solitude.

Fingers crossed.

I continued to attack the door with the last ounce of energy within my body. After that I became emotionally and physically exhausted- my healing injuries took their toll and I fell to the floor as the room phased to complete blackness.

I awoke to daylight, so it must have been hours later. Despite the sun streaming through the window, that wasn’t what woke me up.

It was the smell.

It was the godliest smell, definitely food. For someone who hadn’t eaten in God knows how long, the smell was both heaven and hell. Both relieving and torturously tempting.

I snapped my head in the direction of the smell. Resting on the nightstand on the right side of the bed (how the fuck did I get on the bed? I passed out on the floor…) was a white plate displaying an appetizing grilled cheese. I could see tomato resting between the thick layers of cheese. There were some carrots cut nicely and neatly on the side of the grilled cheese. Behind the plate was a glass of clear and cool water.

Feeling the nauseous wave of hunger hit, I reached for the food eagerly but quickly pulled away as if the grilled cheese bit me. For god’s sakes, he probably drugged the food. Maybe he wanted me to be even weaker when he comes to beat me. Sick bastard.

I ignored the mouthwatering food for as long as I could. The longing glances through the corner of my eye were not helping, though. I finally broke down and scarfed down the food like a ravenous street dog. Honestly, it looked like I hadn’t eaten in days. Oh wait… I HADN’T eaten in days.

I figured, if Zayn wanted to come, he would come. Whether or not he put pulls in my food and whether or not I ate said pills wouldn’t stop him. So why give a shit?

I was just gulping down the rest of the water when a dizzy spell hit me like a ton of bricks. With a shaking hand, I safely put the cup down and lay back in bed. My eyelids felt unnaturally droopy and forced themselves shut.

My last thought before I slipped into unconsciousness was: damn bastard drugged my fucking foo-

Holy shit, talk about déjà vu. I woke up in the darkness, again, with the smell of food next to me. This time it was some steamed vegetables with rice and a glass of milk. I tried to resist the food again because I had no doubt there were drugs, but I failed once again.

HEY! Don’t judge me, my body is healing from a violent ordeal and I need my strength. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself.

Again, I knock out a few minutes after eating.

This odd cycle continues for some time. I’m not sure if two days pass or two weeks pass, I lost count. Every time I woke up, there would be a new dish of food next to me, which made me fall back asleep.

Oftentimes, in my attempts to ignore the food I would get out of bed, but that would only cause me to slip into unconsciousness somewhere on the hard floor. Still, I woke up in my bed every fucking time.

I hadn’t seen Zayn at all. I only smelled his strong presence of cigarettes after he puts me back in bed. I only consume the food he makes for me constantly.

The weird part is, I am always out because of pills for random times, but each time I wake up a hot and fresh plate of food awakes. It’s like he knows when I’ll wake up or won’t, so he makes the food accordingly.

I wake up to pitch darkness like usual and smell something delicious next to me. You know, for a possessive psycho, the asshole is a pretty good chef.

I steal a glance at the food I will, as per routine, try to ignore: Tomato soup, French baguette and iced tea. Damn. It looks delicious.

I tear my eyes away from the tempting sight and look around the room. That’s when I notice it.

The darkness completely engulfs my surroundings, the only thing catching my attention is a shimmer of a metal object in the pale moonlight. I narrow my eyes as I stare closely at the object wondering why I had never noticed it before.

What is it?

Suddenly, I let out a shriek as the object moves. My fear is met by a dark chuckle, scaring me even more.

“Relax, Darlin’. It’s just me.” His husky voice whispers as he leans forward in the chair so his whole face could be illuminated by the moon.

The scruff on his jaw line and grown out significantly and he got rid of the gay motherfucking stripe in his hair, but other than that, Zayn looked like the same douche psycho I had grown to be so fond of (that was sarcasm…).

“W-what are you doing here?” I stuttered in a weak voice. Huh, so much for standing up to him.

“This is my fucking flat, Darlin’. I can go where I damn well please,” he chuckled as his dark eyes stared at me.

“Well it’s nice of you to show up instead of cowering and drugging me before you make an appearance.”I hiss back. I thought Zayn would get mad, but he just laughed.

“A week in complete isolation and you still have that fire? Loving it, Darlin’.” Oh, so I had only been here a week.

“It’s gonna take a lot more to break me, you little shit.” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m counting on it.” He winked.

“I fucking hate you.” I whispered harshly. He raised his eyebrows at my words.

“Tsk tsk, Hannah. Haven’t you heard the saying ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’? Be nice to me or I’ll let you starve.” He threatened.

“LET ME STARVE!” I snapped, “a slow death like that is better than being here with you!”

“Enough with the melodramatics, Darlin’.” He scolded me like a child.

“SAYS THE FUCKER WHO IS KEEPING ME PRISONER!!!” I exploded. Zayn’s reaction was to just laugh, which set me off even more. I grabbed the bowl of tomato soup and chucked it at the wall right above his stupid head.

The bowl shattered upon impact, the pieces crumbled to the floor. The soup dripped down the walls looking eerily like blood. I felt a know form in my stomach.

I snapped my eyes to his face, taking in his reaction. His face was calm, but his eyes were enraged. My stomach became even queasier.

“Throwing temper tantrums, Darlin’? Like a child?” He scolded sternly.

“Fuck. You.”

“You wanna act like a fucking child, then I’ll treat you like one. I have no problem taking you over my knee!” He threatened. I pretended not to feel intimidated by his threat of a spanking, although internally I was screaming in fear.

“I’m not afraid of you.” I murmured stubbornly. Zayn raised his eyebrow at my response and abruptly stood up. Before I could stop myself, I instinctively flinched and cowered underneath the covers.

“That’s what I thought.” He chuckled and sat back down. I shot him angry daggers, peaking out from the duvet.

“If you came here just to threaten me, Zayn, then I am going to kindly ask you to leave.” I said in mock politeness. He smiled sweetly at me, too sweetly, and leaned forward in the chair.

“My flat, Darlin’.” He reminded me.

“I’m not here by choice, at least let me suffer in peace.” I whispered, this time my voice took on a desperate edge. He let out a frustrated sigh, stood and headed for the door.

“Why me?” I whimpered as he stepped outside. I didn’t intend for him to hear, but he responded to my rhetorical question from the other side of the door.

“Because I love you.”