Murder [Niall Horan]

Prologue: Niall James Horan

I walk inside the flat and everything is a quiet and still. I could hear the neighbors a story above us partying loudly with some of our music playing. It had been a long day at the studio since I got stuck with extra vocal coaching tonight. Though I wonder why everything is so still.

Harry usually is always playing his Xbox loudly in the living room where I am standing, but he is nowhere to be found. His brown messy curls are almost always easy to find and with his cheesy smile always staring at you as you walk into the fancy living room of our home. His tattoos are like a stain on a white couch; with those tattoos you could find him anywhere, but not today.

My eyes wonder to the kitchen hoping that my dear best friend would be possibly cooking some fajitas or something, yet I would've already been able to smell it from the minute I parked my car into the parking lot. I walk into the kitchen hoping to him in his apron pulling out something from ovens. I am hoping that he is preparing something for Louis birthday even though it is days away. Though to my own extent, I see emptiness in the kitchen.

Maybe the tall boy was hiding in one of the cupboards with those skinny legs of his. He could easily fit into a baby stroller or one of those baby swing sets you see at the park. Maybe he was hiding in the closet next to the kitchen because he wanted to try to scare me, but what if he isn't in any of the places I can think of. He could be flirting with our next door neighbor, yet I believe she's an ugly whore.

I open up all the cupboards and pantries to see if I could at least see his sparkly boots. I walk up to the closet next to the kitchen hoping to see him in his torn up white shirt with his black skinny jeans on maybe, yet when I open up, I see all our large trench coats and not a single torn shirt, nor a single pair of black skinny jeans fitted into a tall tan boy.

I take a deep sigh worry raining across me. I haven't the bedrooms at least, so maybe there is a chance that he is sleeping in there after all it is a rainy cold day in the city of London in December. I take quiet footsteps reaching out for the gold doorknob that would unlock the door to let me see my best friend: Harry Edward Styles.

But the door would not open.

I kick the door and the mud on my shoe from the streets was staining the white door, but I didn't care because all I was hoping for was to see my best friend lying in his sheets sleeping. Pounding and yanking at the door, it was no point for to keep on trying when I knew it was locked. I tried jumping to reach an extra key to open his bedroom, but I was not tall enough to reach it. There had to be another way to open the door.

There was.

I grabbed my wallet from the back of my pants picking out any credit card that I could find. I picked out the first one and I slid against the air holes of the door. Opened. I walked into the room quickly to find nothing. My first idea was to walk out of the room and to check another room like the guest room, or my bedroom, but I decided not to. I took small steps to the master bathroom in his room and opened it and what I saw shocked me.

Broken glass from the mirror was everywhere across the sinks and there were a few drops of blood in one sink. I quickly stormed out of the bathroom with tears spilling out of my eye. He couldn't be dead! No! He can't be dead. I take one last look at his room before I noticed a few crinkles on his bed. Any normal person would've ignored it, but I just couldn't.

I grabbed the corners of the sheet and there I saw it. A cold pale body lied on the bed. The head-His head was twisted 180o degrees. He wore his torn up shirt-yes he did-but it was full of blood-red-and his arm was dried up with blood. I flinched at touching his hair, but I did and I turned his head slowly. His green eyes were wide open. They were never to be closed again. His right arm was full of glass from the bathroom mirror stuck in it. This was not a person-not even close to looking like an animal. Oh dear, oh my, oh yes, there was only a phrase to say what I saw.

Harry Styles was murdered.

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Um hi, this is actually a really different fan-fiction I guess um, but please vote and comment. If I know some people actually like where this fan-fiction will go then I guess I'll keep writing it. Early update on Wednesday if some people vote and comment, or Sunday.

Diana xx