Animals [z.m. || a.u.]

xviii.

xviii.

"Hello? Can I talk to Mr. Harry Styles, please?" Niall Horan inquiried as soon the phonecall was received. He hoped to extract information to the last 't' no matter

"Speaking." came the reply in a deep voice. Niall did not know what to expect the person to look like from his voice, even his age was unpredictable.

"Sir, this is Private Detective Niall Horan speaking and I wanted to talk to you about the case you filed in the department - "

"This is quiet a secretive topic to be discussed over the phone, Mr. Horan. How about you drop by and then we can talk?" Styles replied and Niall just rose his eyebrows. He had anticipated that the person would demand a lot of persuasion in order to at the least get ready to speak about the case. A small smile of uncertain mirth spread across Niall's face.

"Sure, sir." Niall grinned as he said the words. Harry dictated him the address and Niall wrote it down on a small gap on the paper that had Harry's contact number. He thanked Harry as he hung the phone up. For the first time in days Niall let out a sigh of contentment. Maybe this was the breakthrough, the last step of struggle before the mystery of the case at least becomes a tad sensible.

He quickly grabbed his bag pushing the file in with a few more papers and a pencil box. Putting the coat on hurriedly, he rummaged through the drawers to find his wallet that contained his identity card as a private detective. As soon as he found it, Niall shoved it in the bag. Memorising the address, Niall walked to his car.

This is it.

He had a gut feeling this will be helpful.

__

It would be straightforward lying to say that Claire lived in a daze. She was well aware of her surroundings. Although there wasn't even a slightest chance of escaping the hell she'd been forced into, Claire strived to collect all the optimism she could find within herself. Her life here hadn't particularly been ideal for the last few days - she wasn't even aware how many. She was right on the edge, meticulous of how she behaved. Even if the man she feared a tad less than she disgusted; never turned up at the room again, Claire had to face his friend or partner - she assumed. He was shorter than the black haired one, had a head of light looking brown hair which never seemed matted. He never spoke to her as he would set down the food and a bottle of water as usual. She was taken aback when he handed her clothes once. He'd followed the surprisingly abrupt and absurd action by opening the door situated in a corner of the room.

"Get in," he said pointing to the opened door leading to a dark room,"And please just don't try anything stupid, although there's no scope for you to try it. Yet, I mean it." She discovered the room to be actually a bathroom. And yes, to prove the brown brown haired man right, her brain did resort to her blueprints of all the escape plans she found viable. But as soon as she saw an unbelievably small space in the ventilator left uncovered, the blueprints were shoved back to their original places. She had to take a cold watered shower due to the absence of a water heating facility but that did not dampen her gratitude to have a chance to clean herself. She wore the new clothes she'd been provided with with reluctance. The clothes given to her surely weren't a girl's but yet she felt grateful to have a clean pair of apparels - containing a grey jumper and some black jeans.

She'd learned his name to be Louis as he once was called by the other man and Louis had replied in, 'coming, Zayn.'

Zayn.