Deranged | Harry Styles

Chapter 1

I slowly look around, careful not to run into anything. The only light down here is the giant glowing torch held under my left arm. I am growing very tired of being in there. Constant days of being locked up in a tiny dark cell with hardly anything to eat and chained up with my only movement gets me to either my bed or the wall and having no one to talk to can really make someone go insane.

I have been underground for thirty seven hours and I have never been more terrified in my whole life. Some noises I hear are absolutely horrifying; they go from rats scurrying quickly across the filthy concrete ground to unknown low growls in the distance. I haven't eaten anything in God knows how long and my energy levels are beginning to weaken. My whole body aches from the tips of my toes to the highest point on my head and I haven't slept at all in days. I have no idea where I am going and the heavy torch under my arm has been flickering for the past ten minutes.

"Christ," I mutter under my breath as I begin to see a tiny light about a hundred metres ahead. My whole body feels like it's about to shut down in terror. A low growl emits from behind me and suddenly the torch I am holding has been ripped from my grip. I yell, my loud voice echoing inside the huge tunnel.

Slowly, I turn around, careful not to make any noise whatsoever. My whole body is shaking in fear, making it hard to keep still. My eyes widen in shock and my body goes limp as I take a look at the mysterious figure standing about a metre away. The creature looks about seven foot tall, pale white and has giant red gashes all over his face and chest. He has dried and fresh blood dripping of his hands, making my heart rate quicken about a mile.

He steps forward, dropping the torch that shuts off and crashes on the ground. I feel ice cold, slimy hands wrap around my neck, quickly picking me up and throwing my heavy body with ease as if I were a feather. My body collides with a solid wall, the world around me going fuzzy and the pain that is searing across my body is now either intensifying or I'm going numb. I don't know.

"Well, well, well. Aren't we going to have a lot of fun," a deep voice growls in my ear, my vision going white for a split second before my body slumps to the floor in a crumpled mess.

I shoot awake, my breaths coming out short and quick. I see excruciatingly bright lights and it's confusing. I groan, laying back down. I feel a bit of pain, but I don't know where it is.

"Ah, Mr Styles, you're awake," a doctor walks in wearing a white lab coat, a pair of small glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and a brittle clipboard under his arm.

"Where am I?" my voice comes out hoarse, having to clear it a couple of times before the nurse answers.

"In hospital, sir. You have been in a coma for eighty seven weeks and three days. How do you feel?" The smiling doctor sits in a small chair beside me. My eyes widen as I realised that I had dreamt up the creature and all the events, and I was safe in the Hillsborough Hospital.

***

Hello and welcome to my new fic:)) I hope you guys enjoy reading this, because I enjoy writing it. Don't forget to like, comment and share this story as much as you can if you like it. Love you all :)