Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home (Zarry AU)

Part 20

Harry's back in his old house, looking down the set of stairs. The same set of stairs he's grown to despise because it descended into a nightmare.

They say going down a set of stairs is easier than going up one. It requires less effort. Nothing has ever been less true than that. He doesn't think he can do it. It's not even dark downstairs; a single light brightens up the hallway enough that he can see where he's going. But that's not right. He never knows where he's going, where he will end up. What he will find.

He takes one step down and looks around. There are no pictures on the wall. Everything is bare, there is only the light in the hallway and the door that leads outside. He takes another step. What if he goes in a different direction? What if he goes through the door? He hurries down the stairs and stops in front of the door, feeling the doorknob. It's cold. Harry can see his street through the small window, if he presses his face to it.

When he tries to open the door, it doesn't budge. It's not even locked, it just won't open. He turns around, blinking. He's back on the landing, a few steps away from the set of stairs he just went down. Hesitatingly he approaches the stairs and sees the same hallway, only the light is flickering. It's weak, but still bright enough to show him where he's going as he rushes down the stairs and forcefully tugs on the door, knocking into it and pulling, bashing on it with his fists. The window is gone and he can't see outside.

Frustrated, he turns around. He's back on the landing. This time he doesn't hesitate. The hallway is lit but there is no lamp. He walks down the stairs, anger fueling his determination. His hand clamps around the doorknob; it's warm. When he pulls back his hand, he sees it's red, a warm liquid coating his fingers.

He looks back up from his fingers, and he's on the landing again. There's a trail of bloody footsteps leading to the staircase and no light from the hallway creeping up the stairs. He's going in circles, ending up at the same place every time. Only it's worse. Each time it gets worse.

It can't keep getting worse, he needs to break the cycle. Without thinking, he turns around, expecting to face a door when instead, he's just facing the staircase again. This time he's farther away, and the bloody footsteps have turned into a trail. A deep red stain on the carpet of the landing, stopping right at his feet. When Harry looks down at himself, he sees the blood is coming from him and when he's expecting his breathing to get heavier he discovers he's not breathing at all.

He takes a step forward and the house around him creaks, like an old ship groaning against the strength of the waves. His vision starts to fade in and out but he manages to make it to the stairs, waiting at the top to see the condition of the hallway, only to discover there isn't one. He's looking down into the ocean, a dark abyss waiting to swallow him whole. Turning around isn't an option, because it will get worse.

With one last step forward, he allows himself to tumble into darkness.

When he wakes up it takes him a moment to realise he's safely in his bed and the screaming in his head is just his alarm blaring on the nightstand beside him. He turns it off and tries to focus on calming down the rapid beating of his heart and laboured breath. It feels like he just ran a few miles, sweat sticking to his brow and hair plastered to the back of his neck.

Harry climbs out of his bed and quickly pops into his bathroom where he splashes cold water on his face before starting the rest of his morning routine. What he does first is turn on the TV and get the coffee started so he can pour himself one after he's done taking a shower. After that he would prepare breakfast and slowly eat it while he watches the local news channel.

Only today he seems to skip a few steps, as his attention is drawn to the news anchor on the television.

''It seems the police have their hands full since we now have two serial killers walking around. The question is, will they join forces?''

If Harry was holding anything, he would surely drop it. There's a feeling of euphoria rushing through him and his heart is beating so fast he's starting to feel nauseous. He should be scared or angry, but that's not the case, because he knows. The Artist heard him. They listened. They're here for him.

They're here.    

Surprise! I'll be updating tomorrow again, so I'll see you then :)

All the love xxx <3