Apocalypse [h.s.]

Chapter thirty four

My throat felt thick and I could hardly breathe. Harry was standing in front of me, but it wasn't him. His eyes were vicious and dark, like they had been injected with black venom that killed you on the inside. Because that's how he looked. Dead. His skin was pale and he had a few bruises and scars on him. It was like someone had gripped his arm tightly, held him down.

I wrenched and twisted in the cold chair, and I started to feel numb in my butt. Spitting, I uttered, "What the hell did you do to Harry?"

Dean looked at me and sighed, looking down. Then he looked up again at the man who had brought Harry in. "Did we really have to do this?"

The man I didn't know the name of looked at Dean with a serious, emotionless look, cold as stone. "If the chief tells us to do something, we do it. We don't question it. We just do it, Winchester."

Biting his lip, nodding feverishly, Dean looked down, as his hand went up to his neck, fingers spreading throughout his short hair. Harry just stood there, staring at me. Smiling at me like a satisfied jerk just waiting to spit something sarcastic in my face.

"You look a bit sour," he said, making a fake pout with his little mouth. "Did you have a bad day? Huh?"

My head was bowed down, and when I looked up I felt the fresh tears fall down on the floor. "Harry, please ..." I sobbed, and I saw Dean looking up at me quickly. "Harry, I know you're in there somewhe-"

"Mmmm, yeah, not gonna work," he answered, making a grimace. Then he bowed down, face closer to mine. He was still wearing his annoying smile. "See, I'm still here. This, this is all me. Harry. I'm right here. You were just too blinded by your pathetic love to see it."

At first, I believed him. I believed the thought that everything we had before was a lie. That he had been lying all along. That my love for him was unrequited. But then I stopped myself and mentally punched myself in he face. It was the thing inside his body that spoke, not Harry.

"Go to hell," I spat, sniffing, now looking at him with so much anger that even Dean looked kind of scared. I wouldn't give Harry, or, this corrupted version of Harry, the pleasure of seeing me cry. So I bit my lip and swallowed, gathering all of the strength I needed.

He threw his head backwards, laughing endlessly. His eyes met mine, and they weren't warm and mellow like the first day I had met him, when he guided me to my office, and smiled so warm I think one part of me melted right there. And he had taken that part, and he had consumed it, because a part of me was in him. A part of me that I could never take out of him, it would be there forever. And I hated that. It made me feel so awfully weak, because I needed that part to move on if something happened. Something that tore us apart. Something like this.

I felt cold when he looked at me, and I scowled at him. He smirked, his head downwards but his eyes on me. "You know, when we were dating, there was one thing I never told you." I frowned. He continued, still smiling. "You're weak." I felt a sting in my eye. "When I first met you, and I saw that pretty, innocent little face of yours, I knew I could easily wrap you around my finger. With my looks and charisma, it would be no problem." I felt like spitting at him. My eyes were burning, and so were my fists, just waiting to be free from those ropes so that I could punch him in the face. Hard. "What?" He asked when he studied my face, and chuckled. "Did you really think I wanted you? Something so weak? You're so weak, Violet. You have no idea just how weak you are. Actually it's a miracle you got that job at Global Couns-"

"Shut up!" I screamed. "I know you're not Harry. Not really." I turned to Dean. "I'm not going to fall for your tricks!" I spat at him, and he looked at me sorrily, like he wasn't even a part of this. But I knew he was. I was not going to start trusting someone from Global Makers.

Harry looked at me, a look of contemplation on his face, and then suddenly his body broke down. He looked like he was in extreme agony, his hand attached to his head, and he twitched and turned on the floor, screaming. Dean and the man looked at each other, confusion in their eyes, and Dean looked genuinely worried.

"Take him to the chief," he commanded to the man, who hesitated. "Now!"

I watched in horror as Harry cried out in pain, getting dragged out of the room. His hand was still clutched to his forehead, and his eyes shut. Just before the door closed, his eyes opened, and he looked directly at me. The door was almost shut when I heard him scream:

"Violet!"