Sinister - Larry Stylinson

Part Eleven

Niall Horan has been in the LPD for 4 years, and he'd like to think he has authority. He likes to think that he's done a lot of crime fighting and stopped tragedies from occurring, but in reality, he hasn't. He hadn't even faced something like this ever, in his life, and he'd like to think he wish he never had to in the first place.

As soon as the two are loaded into the back of the cop car, Jefferson is driving off, and Niall is left standing on the side of the road to wait for the coroner, and the investigative services.

They arrive some ten minutes later, and the officer is trembling, clenching his teeth as he leads them through the forest to the cave where ten bodies lie, stiff and mutilated. He informs them on how he believes it's the serial killer Harry Styles' other victims.

Somewhere distantly, as he watches mindlessly the scene be taped off, he hears the lowered chatter of disgust.

He follows it and by some unknown force has enough guts to poke his head into the cave, the vile stench of rotting flesh is offensive, and he covers his nose with the crook of his elbow.

There's only one body left now, as the rest of the skeletons have been removed back to the coroner's truck. A tall and slim women with black hair pulled back in a slick bun glances over at him. A solemn look is engraved into her irises, and she glances back down at the young girl. She's leaned sideways against the cave wall, as though for support. Her eyes are closed peacefully in contrast to her bruised and beaten body. Her head is lolled at an awkward angle and Niall has seen at least enough movies to know her neck is snapped.

Tears lean heavily at the backs of his eyes, "How old?" His voice wavers, as though he's not really sure he wants to know.

"Seven, probably." The coroner says quietly, as she kneels down to study her bloodied scalp. The frays of hair left are matted down with dried blood and Niall is positive he's going to be sick. "From the deterioration I'd say she's been dead no longer than 2 years. I'll have to get her back to the lab to see a more specific date..." her voice trails off as she stands again, shrugging her coat tighter around her.

--

Louis is trembling, a whole body tremor that has even his teeth chattering. He's sat in a small holding cell inside the LPD Station, and next to him in another cell is Harry.

The boy's breath is coming out in short tremors with his sobs, his hands gripped on the bars and head leaned between them. He's whispering incoherent words, his face flushed with his tears, eyes squeezing shut with watery rims, his chin puckered from a scowl that looks like it might not ever leave his face.

Louis doesn't know what to feel, doesn't know if he should trust him anymore, if he's telling the truth. He's past the point of numbness; in a lucid state where he feels like he's out of his body, staring down at himself with a condescending look. You shouldn't have ever taken him in. Biggest mistake of your life.

He bows his head in his palms because he realizes it really is.

He laughs wetly into his palm at the sudden realization of it all.

Harry was a monster, he always will be, and he ruined his life. He was a schizophrenic child molester and murderer that couldn't be fixed. The past three weeks had been a lie, had been a shroud of deceiving hope. Harry would never be a kindred soul, would never be a domestic husband.

Louis' heart nearly breaks in his chest, trying to suppress his broken sobs as he shakes his head trying to force those thoughts out of his head.

Yet you still love him. His subconscious barks at him, laughs as though he's never been more disappointed in himself.