Cold. (A Harry Styles Fanfic)

Chapter Sixteen- The Worshipper

HARRY'S POV

        After I dropped Gracie off at home I hurried up back to the boys. Damn I was exhausted. I already texted Niall and told him to tell the boys to leave me be and that Gracie was alright. I just needed some damn good sleep. I knew he wanted to ask me for details but didn't proceed to push any further. Smart boy. When I arrived home no one ran to greet me or bombard me with questions regarding Gracie's well fair. Thank you Niall. I trudged up to my room and plopped myself on the bed awaiting for sleep to grab me. The last thing I remembered was Gracie smiling graciously at me kissing the red rose I had given her.

        Everything seemed foggy at first. And I couldn't help but wonder where the hell I was. I don't dream often, and if I do it's usually a message from the great Lord downstairs. Everything seemed to be in black and white, and I was in a large L.A styled house. I looked around completely bewildered. What the hell is going on? I see a man with dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes that reminded me so much of a certain girl I knew. Everything seemed in normal speed now as he made his way down to the basement. I caught my breath; was this Gracie's father? I quickly hurried down there after him to see exactly what he was doing. He stood by a work bench, but there wasn't any tools there or anything. There was the faint smell of blood which made my eyes widen. Was he harming himself down here?

        As I drew closer I realized he's not harming himself, but animals as if sacrificing them. He was staring at a book, a fire going on in the corner, and his hair was disheveled and dirty, and he was mumbling a prayer in Latin.

       And I was sure it wasn't a prayer from God. This was no Christian man obviously. My breath caught when I realized his Latin words regarding the devil and how he was his humble servant.

       "YOU IDIOT!" I screamed at him, but he kept on with his prayer. I knew I couldn't stop him, that the inevitable will happen. Gracie's father was a devil worshiper.

        "YOU DUMB ASS!" I found myself yelling helplessly. "You have a family!" How could he do this in the same household as his wife and child? He was conjuring up something he had no control over, that mindless, idiotic, ignorant human. I wanted to hit him I was so pissed off. Stop him from whatever he was about to release. I knew what he would release though. A demon; just like me. 

        "Please, please accept this offering great  Dolor." He begs.

        A ominous voice filled the room. "Pathetic, weak human; you wish to satisfy me this way? Bring me...the girl."

        He seemed panic stricken now. "No, please, anything but my daughter. Please no. She means everything to me."

        A low growl echoed throughout the room and Mr. Mathews was thrown across the room with a nasty crunching sound indicating he broke his shoulder. He cried out in pain and struggled to breath. I...I actually pitied this man. Because he was ignorant....because of Gracie. This dick Dolor wanted Gracie. I tightened my fists.

        Upstairs I saw the young Gracie. She looked so adorable...so...innocent. Her long light blonde hair covered her face as she cried looking around the house not seeing me. I wanted to comfort her more than anything for some strange reason. But I didn't know she existed...I was in Hell right now. Just where that damn Dolor needs to be.

        "Sweetie, don't cry," A woman with short light blonde hair went to comfort her, her mother. "There's no reason to."

        "I heard daddy cry." She says quietly.

        "It was an accident hon," She soothes Gracie.

        Gracie looks around petrified; I almost thought she could see me. "Mommy...we're being watched...mommy..."

        "Honey, honey, shh, shh..."

        They disappeared from view and I screamed at them reaching out as if it would make a difference. I still remembered her posture and how she was crying. How her hair covered her seven year old face.

        I saw her father lying on the ground with large gash marks on his abdomen, horror on his bloody scratched face, his body twisted in an unnatural angle. I cringed at the sight and groaned at it. It was absolutely horrific. His death wasn't by a damn animal. This killing was by something I would do. He was murdered by a demon. Looking up I saw a black shadow with golden eyes, but I didn't see anything else. Dolor. I wanted to attack him...demon vs. demon. But he didn't know I was here...or did he?

        I remembered Gracie now with her easy smile and light blonde hair. Replacing that... was her hair in a matted mess, her eyes pale and translucent, her body twisted and drenched in blood, and a scream still stuck on her face. I yelled to her, but I couldn't find my voice.

        "Harry...why didn't you protect me...why..." Her voice haunted me, and I covered my ears. I didn't want to hear this...if I did something inside me was bound to break. Someone was trying to break me.

        "Garron...." I heard my name being spoken by an unfamiliar name all of a sudden.

        I could find my voice. "What the fuck do you want...? Dolor..."

        "I'm coming,"

        I woke up sweating sunlight bathing through the windows lighting my room. I breathed a sigh of relief. But then I tensed up. That wasn't some bad dream, I caused bad dreams, that was a vision. Was Dolor coming to attack me?? I didn't feel any darkness in it. Did I dream about Dolor...or is he really after me? And why me really?

        But then my heart was shot with fear. "Gracie..."

        Fuck.