Heir [Harry Styles]

Prologue

-Prologue-

“Oh sweetie, as much as it pains me. You must watch. Now open those pretty eyes of yours.” his raspy voice whispered in my ear as his slender fingers combed through my hair. The foul scent of his breath wafting over to my nose, intruding my nostrils. I kept my eyes screwed shut, despite his orders to open them, refusing to see the heart wrenching sight in front of me.

“I said OPEN!” the cold knife digs harder into my skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface of my skin. The pressure splits the precious material of my neck, causing warm blood to trickle from the small wound. But it was just a mere scrap, a fraction of the damage done compared to his. I pry open my eyes cautiously, surveying the barely conscious figure. I take in the sight of the dark crimson liquid dripping down the side of his face and down his neck, trailing past various scrapes and bruises, making rivers of pain. The blood has already managed to stain the white collar of his dress shirt a deep shade of maroon and his armpits stained with sweat. His head hangs low causing his chin to touch his chest. His back is slumped in the flimsy chair creating wrinkles to become prominent in his usually pressed shirt. Fresh tears spring from my eyes against my will, dripping down my raw, pink cheeks as I observe the man who has taken care of me for all these years, tied to a chair, barely moving.

“My precious flower, don’t cry.” the calloused thumb of the stranger coming up to wipe away my recently shed tears, but I shy away before his sickening touch can reach my raw cheeks, “No need to be scared, flower. I won’t hurt you.” I cringe at the name he has given me. But the thing is, he already has, it wasn't just the cut to my neck, it was the nauseating body in front of me that hurt my heart and soul more than anything I have ever experienced.

"Don't call me that." I growl through clenched teeth.

“I call you what I want." he retorts, waving the knife around my head carelessly, shearing a piece of long, brown hair off. I watch as it floats to the ground. "Now you must, understand. This man has done very bad things and he deserves to die. And what better for you to watch as he takes his last breaths.” an evil cackle erupts from the scandalous mans’ cracked and peeling lips.

“NO! Please don’t. You are such a sick man!” I scream, thrashing against my restraints, only to have the deadly grip on my wrist tighten, their fingers pressing deeper into the already formed bruises.

“Hold her down. She’s a feisty one. You should really learn manners young lady.” The putrid man scolds me before tossing me aside like a dirty sock. He pushes me to the ground and I land with a thump, slamming my head against the knob of a golden cabinet. I wince in pain and grab my head, feeling something sticky meshing with my hair.

Adrenaline takes over, allowing me to spring to my feet and lurch forward,  desperately grasping at the air in attempts of clashing my first with the man’s scarred face. Mid leap I am caught by the waist, another man jerking me back with so much force my neck snaps forward, leaving aching pains.

“Don’t do this!” I whimper, ignoring the throbbing of my wounded body. The tears run freely as the scar faced man holds the barrel of the sleek pistol to the temple of his victim. The adrenaline in my veins of died down, only leaving a scared, shaking girl in its wake.

“YOU WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS!” I scream, kicking my feet and pounding my fist against the arms wrapped around my waist. The bulky man seems un-phased by my attempts of escape. At that moment, the darkened eyes of the broken figure looks up at me, full of sorrow and despair. But there is a hint of something else, guilt. Then he chooses to speak, his voice raspy and weak, “Everything will be okay my dear, Adalyn Iris. I’m sorry this had to happen, I wish I was a better father to you. I love you with all my heart. Stay strong for me, just like you were for your mother.” His voice spikes at the end, cracking at his last statement. I release a sob, the tears blurring my vision of the helpless man who just happens to my father. The man who would kill the spiders in the bathtub for me, the man who would make sure there were no monsters under my bed or in my closet, the man who kept me safe and tucked me in every night.

“Any last word, Flower?” The gravelly voice of the insensitive snarls.

I stare at my father’s eyes, taking in the crinkles by his eyes and the permanent crease that has found a home between his eyebrows. I am at a loss for words. I can’t seem to find the words that have enough meaning for this moment, his last moment. I only stifle soft whimpers of misery.

“We don’t have all day.” I watch as my father cringes at the gun being dug into his flesh.

“I love yo-” the loud bang fills the small confinement of the destroyed office. The blaring explosion rings of the walls, causing my ears to pound and my heart to crash against my chest at a rapid pace.

“NOO!” I let out a wail, falling to my knees as the man releases me. I cup my face in my hands, shielding my eyes from the lifeless body that lies limp in front. That very body that once held the soul of my cunning father, one of the only people who loved me, one of the only people I couldn’t live without.

(Disclaimer: All ideas are mine and 100% fiction. DON'T COPY PLEASE.)