Powers » Zayn Malik (Spring 2015)

Chapter 1

I can't go through with this, but the gun being pressed into my temple suggests otherwise.

If I utter a word to anyone; I'm dead.

If I back out; I'm dead.

So either way I'm screwed.

Great.

"Yeah, I'll see you in two days time at the airport." I managed to blurt out, as calmly as possible.

"Ok mate have a good one, see ya in a few, bye." Louis static-filled voice echoed throughout the room, breaking through the silence.

"Ok, bye..." I replied, grimacing as I watched the buff man end the call, then throw my phone to the ground and repeatedly shoot at it, until there was nothing but a mess of phone parts scattered over the grey concrete left.

If only Louis knew that he couldn't call back, if only he knew that the next few days are probably going to the worst days of my life, if only I had taken the car, and not walked.

I mean, seriously, the one day I decide to exercise and not take my car, is the one day I get snatched off the streets. Huh, ironic much?

I swear to God I am never walking anywhere again; I'm going to be lazy for the rest of my life.

"Hey! Listen to me pretty-boy!" The buff man yelled, getting my full attention when he grabbed a handful of my shirt collar and rammed me against the wall.

I let out a splutter and tried to prize him off me, which only made him push harder.

"You're going to do what we say, when we say it...clear?" He growled and I could smell whiskey on his breath.

With my eyes glaring back at him I brought my right knee up to his stomach and he stumbled backwards. I drew in sweet gulps of air but as quickly as the air filled my lungs, it was just as quickly expelled because the buff man had regained his balance and rammed his - probably metal - fist into my stomach; winding me and sending a shooting pain through my abdomen.

I slumped to the floor clutching my stomach and coughing violently, trying to relax my muscles to ease the pain. I wasn't relaxed for long because the man delivered a few swift kicks to my stomach again, with his steel toed boots, before spitting on my curled up figure, sending a threat in my direction and storming out of the room, bolting the door and turning the the light out.

Leaving me, choking back sobs and writhing in pain, in the dark.

Powers coming late spring 2015