Virus (Narry Zombie AU)

Chapter 32

Soooo I’m excited! Guess what!

This story got Fan fiction #493 and Teen fiction #694 (AAAHHHHH!!!!!)

Thank you guys! It means so much to me! I literally squealed just a little bit… but don’t tell anyone.

Anywhore, Dedication to: @whitneyloveszayn and @Leohowardsfriend (for the best guess on my fav bromance) and @_eddster_ and @peterpan6 (for the coolest first date ideas)

Also, @ForeverUnited93 feel better! Sunburns suck man.

Word count: 2,426

Pages on word: 7 pages

Please enjoy this next chapter!

Answer: my favorite bromance would have to be either Narry or Larry (tied for second place is Ziall and Zarry and Niam)

Best first date: since I love superheroes, I would love for a guy to just dress up as a superhero with me and walk around, maybe a picnic after?

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~Niall~

I get it really I do, I hurt their friend and boyfriend and they turn me in. Simple enough, fair enough I suppose. Only, I did it to save him from what I am about to go through- to save him from unimaginable pain. He didn’t even get sick because of me, and now he will have another day to live on this miserable earth. I cant say I’m not hurt though, that I’m not feeling slightly betrayed or upset because my mother always thought me not to lie. So if anyone asked how I felt I would tell them, but no one will- or they will but won’t mean it. The only way they’ll ask is when I’m writhing in pain and have to grit an answer out through my clenched teeth. Trust me, been there and done that. Wish I would never have to go back, but unfortunately for me my life kind of sucks at the moment and I never get what I want.

“You know, Curly was adamant that we ruff you up a little. I wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t practically begging on his knees for me to beat you.” The head soldier- whose name was Matt- whispered menacingly in my ear, his voice taunting me to do something about it- tell him he was lying just so he could prove it to me. I kept my head down, giving him no reaction. I knew it would get him more pissed but at this point I couldn’t care less. I already knew that anything he did to me could only be as bad as tickling my sides when we finally reached my room. I didn’t want to listen, I didn’t want to find out it was the truth. Somewhere deep down I knew it wasn’t, but the bigger more sensible part of my brain kept coming up with reasons that it could be nothing but true. I refused to cry, tired of feeling weak- of looking weak. A pang in my heart alerted me that I still had one, and somehow that made me slightly happier, slightly more scared, and slightly sadder all in one go. It seemed they all knew about my weakness for the boy, and I could thank that damned Nick for that. And I suppose I would, I would be meeting him in hell pretty soon. Matt just chuckled, shoving me forward rougher than he had previously causing me to stumble but not fall. I would not seem any weaker than he already saw me. I knew this would make him angry; he had always hated me for some reason. I think it may have been because I was gay, or maybe because before I was seen as some sort of hero. Or maybe it was because I was the only one who saw the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes when he would look at my brother. Or maybe he thought it was my fault he died. I didn’t know, but I did know that he hated my very being. I swallowed harshly, biting my tongue to keep from lashing out at the men who were shoving me and herding me around like a damn cow. I was getting angry, but I knew lashing out was exactly what they wanted so I stayed submissive and I stayed silent.

Soon they were done parading me around and we reached a big building with a lot of glass, in the middle of the compound. I knew exactly where we were and what happened inside that building. Nothing good I would say, but they say its ‘advancements in science’ and ‘advancements in finding the cure’ not that many are allowed in there. If you live in a ‘tent’ you won’t be permitted to be within 10 meters of the place. They did that to ‘protect the people’ but really it was so no one really saw what happened behind the closed doors. But really, that wasn’t everyone’s biggest concern. Most of them live in ‘tents’ and worry more about food and their own survival than what happened to anyone else. I was pushed inside, and I knew exactly where we were going. I could do that route with my eyes closed by now, in fact I’ve had to do that quite a few times- not by my own accord. We took the stairs, 24 flights before we reached the floor I would be staying in. I recognized the building as the Heron Building, someplace my dad visited often when in London for business. It had a total of 46 floors, and was one of the tallest buildings in London. The floor I was being held in was simple. It was dark, the windows all broken and covered with wood or big chunks of cement allowing only some sunlight to filter through the cracks. It was just one big hallway until we reached my room on the end. A large cement square, only a metal table and an operating table resided in the room. There were two windows, all covered up save for the small 3 centimeter crack at the top that allowed light to seep in. The door was a sliding metal door, a series of padlocks and key locks littered the side making it nearly impossible to escape. And there was a plastic strip, like an observation window in the door about eye level. That’s where they would stand to observe me, either there or on the other side of the bulletproof one way glass that sat securely on the wall facing the bed. The operating table served as a bed, the padding was worn down and quite rarely was there a pillow or blanket covering it. It had leather straps arranged on it, like before the virus hit it was made for the sole purpose of torture. The straps were a thick black leather belt, a large silver buckle on each and they sat perfectly for keeping someone down. There were two for the wrists, two for the ankles, one for the waist and one for the head. Most of the time, it was only my ankles and wrists strapped down and I was allowed to leave the room as long as I had a guard to accompany me. That guard was almost always my brother. Those rules were set to ‘protect me’ from the people who would go do anything just to have a cure. I learned it was to keep me here, to keep me their prisoner. They pushed me through the door, me digging my heels into the ground. I would put up a fight here, there was to be no doubt about that. But soon, my tied hands were grabbed, my feet lifted and someone else grabbed my shoulders carrying my squirming body over to the bed. Someone untied my hands before pulling them from behind my back to in front of me, his grip not lessening. My back hits the cool bed, and I arch away from it, obviously not making much of a difference. The one holding my shoulders pressed me down putting all his weight down on me. My legs were buckled  tightly and I squirmed more as they buckled down my waist. My hands were brought down to my side and buckled in easily and then I was all tied down. I growled but they all just smirked at me, sending me are kisses mockingly as if to say ‘we really do love you’. I scoffed, rolling my eyes and fell plaint against the hard bed. I didn’t want to be here, and I most certainly did not want to do this over again. I barely got out last time, and that was with so much more freedom than I would get now. I was utterly screwed, and now I realize that Greg had lost his life for nothing. I could feel my eyes pricking with tears from the memory, but I refused to let them fall. I stared up at the large operating light that was hanging from the ceiling, wondering how on earth they turned this room into how it was before. It used to be a meeting room, in fact it was the room my dad always had his meetings in when we came to London for his business. I remember always being so excited, he always made it into a family vacation of sorts when he had to go away on business. Always said he didn’t want to be one of those parents that were never in his sons’ lives. He wanted to be a good dad, and that was one thing he achieved for sure, there wasn’t even room to debate. The door opened and three men stepped inside wheeling in a cart with many different syringes with many different colored liquids inside of them. There was also some empty tubes and syringes, small plates and a microscope. I shivered, I knew what was coming. One smiled at me, his yellow teeth looking even yellower in the light. He was wearing a doctor’s lab coat that I knew he had stolen when the virus hit. He was in the hospital for drug rehab, and was to be shipped off to Alcatraz later because of the numerous crimes he had committed, drug trafficking being one of the more minor ones. He was what they called ‘The Doctor’ and really no one questioned why he looked more like a murderer or pirate than a doctor. His real name was Jim, but not many people know that, you had to spend quite a substantial amount of time with him for him to have revealed his name to you. Another fact about him: he was also a rapist. On his left was a man by the name of Gay Dickenson, his parents didn’t really have much of any creativity (and they really didn’t even want a child but had him). He was a bitter man with a short temper, and quite enjoyed the suffering of others. I guess that’s what you get when you’re picked on your entire life. He was as straight as you get, and was an absolute homophobe- brought up by years and years of gay jokes and taunts because of his name. All in all he wasn’t someone I was fond of, in fact I quite hated him. He was a scientist, and was once married to a beautiful woman who was one of the first to get the virus when it hit the UK. He despised my immunity, like if I hadn’t had been immune then maybe his wife could have been. Despite everything, he’s still kept her- she was locked away in a small shed right outside of the safe guard perimeter. On the far right was a woman by the name Carrie and she was psychotic. But why wouldn’t she be? It would have screwed up their whole system if she was normal. She was obsessed with changing the world and finding the cure. Of course it would not be my life unless she hated me, which she in fact does. When I had first arrived, she was obsessed with me- claimed that it was love. And when I admitted that I was in fact strictly dickly, she blew up with immeasurable rage. I mean yeah, I know I’m irresistible but damn girl. Jokes.

They all smiled wickedly at me and I shivered. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best but I knew I was only going to get the worst.

~Liam~

I could tell Harry was shocked, and confused. He was a mix of emotions; that I knew. I honestly was quite shocked; I didn’t think he would go back there. I didn’t think Zayn was right. He’s not in the right state of mind, and Harry, well Harry doesn’t know what to think. I think it kills him to know that he hurt Niall by being scared of him. And I, well I think I know what caused him to do it. Think being the key word here. We watched as the army men or whatever they were called paraded him around like some prized pig, occasionally kicking or hitting or shoving him even harder. I watched out of my peripheral vision how Harry flinched every time and how Zayn looked almost lost, hopeless. I could see now that Zayn saw what they were doing to him that he regretted it, but now there was nothing he could do. I could practically see the internal battle raging inside of him, but I couldn’t see the winner just yet.

All I can hope is that Niall is okay for now, and that we can find a way to fix this.

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So, I felt like writing and I wrote. Idk, I may just write another chapter for “Fear Games” or I may just start my new story!

Anywhore, questions:

Who are you more afraid of for Niall? (Dick, Jim, or Carrie?)

How are the army men/ militia going to come in?

Is Zayn going to redeem himself?

How is Zayn going to feel, which side is going to win? (Angry or Guilty?)

What are they going to do to Niall?

Are the other boys going to see him again?

How is he going to feel seeing the other boys after they ‘betrayed’ him?

 

 

42 comments and votes for an update by Monday, but if I can get 35 in 48 hours then I will update early by Thursday!

 

DEDICATION TO THE COMMENTER THAT HAS THE BEST PICK UP LINE THAT YOU HAVE USED OR WOULD USE. (ONLY ONE! SO PICK YOUR BEST ONE. p.s THE CHEESIER THE BETTER)

Xx Val