Algophobia [ZIALL]

XII

==Twelve==

[Harry]

The sun rested low on the horizon as the moon grew just opposite it. I was flat against the ground with the grass covering my head – it tickled my ears. I watched up above me as the blue sky slowly turned grey, which eventually became black. My ears picked up the crickets and the woodland animals from inside to woods. I sat up, leaning on my forearms and examined the sight in front of me – the lone cabin in the middle of the meadow. There was a brisk gust of wind that blew through my hair and made its way to the cabin. Creaks coming from the worn down wood polluted the air around me.

I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled the cold air. My bare forearms had goosebumps from the cold and the back of my neck was freezing. I didn’t mind though. The environment around me was perfect. Everything was absolutely, one hundred percent, perfect. I slowly stood, stretching out my arms as I arose. My feet made their way towards the petite cabin standing before me. It didn’t take long to reach it. I hesitated as I approached the steps; they didn’t look sturdy and seemed easily breakable. I proceeded forward, lightly stepping on the first step, and slowly escalated upward.

When my hand touched the door handle, I was hit with the biggest sense of déjà vu. My timid fingertips brushed the dry wooden door and pushed into it, revealing the inside of the lonely house. I held my breath as I made my way into the front hall, my head carefully looking from side to side, making sure I was completely alone. Though, if someone was here with me, I would have easily killed them and nobody would be the wiser. I only had two choices – either go upstairs and into the single room, or walk down the hallway that was in front of me.

I picked upstairs. My body moved gently, terrified of breaking the wood underneath my feet. I reached for the railing and immediately felt as if something was pulling me up the stairs. It intrigued me to say nonetheless, but part of me was skeptical. The flight of stairs creaked loudly as my weight pressed down on them. Soon I was on the second floor, my hand still gripping the banister I had been holding onto. I looked down to the first floor and examined the entrance. The door was rounded and there were two windows above it – it looked like a big face that was frowning.

Suddenly I heard a creak from behind me and as I turned to the sound, the door to the single room opened. I smirked and walked in. The room was small and barren. No sight of any habitants. There was an unmade single person bed in the back corner and a desk with a small lamp just adjacent to it. Out of curiosity I approached the desk and eyed the briefcase that was placed on top of it. I unzipped it and pulled out numerous newspaper clippings. I skimmed the words and they all had the same general topic – hybrids.

I put the papers back into the briefcase and swung it over my shoulder as I left the room. There was nothing left that interested me. I made my way back to the main entrance, this time taking the hallway leading away from the door. The walkway was creepy, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. When near the end of the hallway there was a white sheet draped over something. I reached up and untucked the sheet and threw it behind me, revealing a broken mirror. There were shards on the ground that belonged to the bottom and top of the mirror. My fingers moved and lightly traced the rigid lines created by the space where the mirror broke. I was careful not to catch my skin on the sharp edges.

I bent down and picked up one of the shards and brought it to the hole in the top of the mirror. I eyeballed its landscape and found a position where it fit perfectly. I pushed it inward, expecting it to sit against the mirror’s backside, but the shard just fell through the back and sounded like it fell down another set of stairs. I took one step back and picked up the smaller shard and softly tossed it through the hole in the mirror and listened as it echoed throughout. There was a hidden room behind the mirror. How horror-movie-like.

I played around with the sides of the mirror frame until I felt a small indent that felt as if it were made for my fingers. I pushed sideways and the mirror slid into the wall, revealing the set of stairs I heard the shards fall down. My body mindlessly started to descend down the stairs, my eyes searching for some type of light source. My hands felt against the rough wall, not being lucky enough to find a light switch. With each step I took the steps creaked and moaned as my weight created a stressful tension against the aged wood. I lifted my right hand in the air, hoping to catch a string to pull and turn a light on.

As the stairs leveled out and I reached the ground my fingers felt a string, which I pulled, and shortly after a single light bulb started flickering. It took a couple seconds to warm but, but when it did; the entire room was lit up. Right in front of me was a desk similar to the one upstairs, but it was bigger and had more of a clutter on it. Just above it, against the wall, was a bulletin board with pinned pictures with write-ups beside them. I could only assume the writings had to do with the pictures. I looked to my right and saw a white lab coat hung on a small hook. I looked to my left and saw a file folder with locks on each draw. I could’ve easily broken into them if I desired to do so, but I didn’t.

I sat down at the desk and my hands hovered over the dusty papers that were left behind. I gathered them up and tapped them on the desk, straightening them up. I inhaled then exhaled, blowing the dust off of the first few sheets. I squinted and covered my nose as the dust drifted back towards my direction. I wiped away the excess and started reading the document. It was a study that originated here in England. My eyes scanned the few papers I could actually understand, as most of it was written in French. There were some English terms such as  ‘weapons’ and ‘replace’ and ‘war’ and ‘hybrid’. I felt a weird concern in my chest. The handwriting looked very familiar. I could’ve sworn I’ve seen it before sometime in my life. My vacant hand reached up to my hair and started pulling at it slightly as I continued to try to make sense of what I was reading.

My eyes drifted upwards and I starred at the photos. My mouth slowly opened as I realized who were in the pictures. The first picture was a small pale boy who had brown hair. It wasn’t curly, or perfectly straight. It was kind of sloppy, but still put together. It was a picture of Niall as a young boy. The next photo was another boy with brown hair, though it was buzzed. He had a more oval like head and brown eyes, Liam Payne. And the last photo was a picture of a brown curly haired boy who had green eyes, Harry Styles. I swallowed the spit that formed in the back of my throat and let out a shaky sigh. I looked over to the text that corresponded with the three pictures, but it was written in French. I knew some French, and by some, I mean very little,

... Aller à la guerre... Amérique... Tuer... Gagner...

I bit down on my lip, giving up on what the visible words said. I stood abruptly and turned on my heel, about to leave up the stairs, but something caught my eye – the white lab coat. I slowly crept over towards it, my hands feeling the soft fabric it was made of. I took it off its hook and turned it around, reading the nametag on the chest. My eyes widen in shock and my heart’s pace picked up. I was now scared. I dropped the lab coat and went back to the stairs, but hesitated once again. I let out a heavy breath and ran back to the desk, grabbing all the papers, and ripped the pictures off of the bulletin board and ran up the stairs, down the hallway, and out of the cabin back towards the woods.

My mind was left back in the basement of the cabin with the lab coat. The lab coat that shouldn’t of been there. That blasted lab coat. Why? Why did it have to say that? Why did the nametag have to say,

Dr. Louis W. Tomlinson.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - OKAY DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE POINT YET? DO YOU REMEMBER THIS CABIN? PLEASE SAY YES. WHAT DO YOU THINK THE POINT OF THE CABIN IS? AND WHAT ABOUT THE LAB COAT? WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT IT BEING LOUIS' AND HOW THERE SEEMS TO BE A PROJECT... DO YOU SEE HOW THINGS ARE ABOUT TO PICK UP I AM SO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO MAKE IT AN ACTUAL GOOD STORY I AM SO SORRY.

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