A Dance With Death

|| Chapter 33 - Threat ||

A/N - Finally, something you've all been waiting for ;)

                

Eight years ago, my friend was killed in front of my own eyes; in front of the whole world. One moment, everything was normal. The next, a bullet goes straight through Niall's heart. The aim was perfect. The audience was a good few feet away from the stage, but the shooter had a very good focus. He was also very good at covering his tracks. He was mysterious. No one knew who exactly was the person who had killed Niall Horan.

Until now.

Everybody thinks that Niall was killed just for the pleasure of it. They are wrong, because I know the truth now. Everybody thinks they know how Niall was killed. Again, they are terribly wrong, because I know exactly what happened.After all, I was involved in Niall's death. I still don't completely blame Caius for what happened all those years ago.

I blame myself.

- - -

It's dark. I'm lost in this never-ending stretch of darkness. I can see my own body, but there's nothing around me.

Gradually, a dim light starts to glow. The surroundings get illuminated. Everything is blurry for a few moments, but shortly after, everything becomes clear and vivid enough. The place is quite familiar. It's a short and a wide corridor-about six feet in width-with light brown walls on either side of it. There are three doors on each wall, but the door I'm standing next to is the largest. The numbers 0-4-8 are inscribed on it, exactly as I remember it.

Looking at the dreadful door, I swallow. Every time I remembered this place, I would hurt my already damaged mind. The memories start flooding through my mind and I slowly start stepping backwards. I wanted to suppress this memory under the layers of grief that I had suffered all of these years. I wanted to believe in what everyone else believed in. But every time I closed my eyes, images of this place came to my mind. They haunted me every single day. And now, I am in this place, again. It may not be real, but the memories are real enough.

"Where are we?" Griffith's voice surprises me. I turn around and find him standing in front of me. He's eyeing his surroundings curiously.

Right. I unknowingly allowed him to see my memory. I feel quite stupid for my actions now, because I don't want anyone to know. But after everything that has happened, I guess I should let this secret out. This day has had a hold over me all these years, torturing my inner conscience. It's high time that I should tell someone. Even if that someone is Griffith.

"We're at a hotel right now," I tell him.

"Is this--?"

"Just before everything started," I finish for him. My words come out to be harsher than I wanted them to be.

"Uh," he stutters, his voice is solemn as he has become aware of my abject state, "I-I could go. I mean, I should go."

I shake my head. "Please, stay."

"No, it was stupid of me to ask. I'm no expert in human emotions but--"

"It's fine, really," I say. "Someone should know." I face back towards the room again, taking in everything that I see.

"Thanks," Griffith says behind me.

Everything is just the same, exactly as I remembered it. The wooden floor beneath has the same burnt colour. The walls have the same rugged texture. The place still carries the air of nervousness and anxiety. Performing in front of thousands of people is something I never got used to. Grief flows throughout my body as I extend my arm in front of me to touch the door.