When Des Styles runs out of time to pay Louis back for his supply drugs, Louis is furious. So instead of going after Des, he goes after something, or someone, that belongs to him:
Harry Styles.
Who to Des, may or may not be more precious than his...
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Warning: Gore, Torture
Louis was always one who enjoyed power. And he was good at fully using it to his advantage.
It's probably the complete control and power he had in that moment that had a wicked grin gracing his lips as he stood a few feet away from the iron bed. Or it could be the blissful feeling he got when he heard the muffled pleas and desperate struggles a few feet away from him.
It was music to his fucked up ears.
The room was brightly lit because he didn't want to ruin a perfect moment with dim lights. No. This was going to be too much fun to waste the moment with darkness.
It was cold, but Louis had no problem with it. In fact, he throughly enjoyed the cold. Besides, he wasn't the one lying almost entirely naked on the iron bed. He shot a quick glance at the sound of small grunts and sharp squeaks of leather straps rubbing against human skin. He felt his neck twitch and his fingers were restlessly grabbing onto the hammer's handle.
"Move again and I'll rip your guts out," Louis menacingly ordered. And just like that, it was silent. The room held a deafening silence Louis suddenly hate. He needed to hear desperate screams and cries begging for mercy. There's no satisfaction if his toy wasn't begging for his life.
Louis looked over his shoulder at the restrained man and smirked when he saw tears flowing down his cheeks. He was crying like a child.
'Much better.' Louis thought as he turned around to face him.
Louis really thought it was a shame to have to do this to him. He was so young and genuinely an incredibly smart kid.
He would have made it.
If he stayed in university and didn't drop out to work for Louis, he would have made it far in life. But he was greedy and only cared about money. A few thousand pounds is a lot of money to steal and Louis still doesn't understand why he thought they'd never find out.
Of course, he would.
This is his life, he had to have control over every little thing that affected him and if that means putting thieves into place, then so be it.
"Do you know what we do to thieves?" Louis asked as he walked at a steady pace to the bed, his shoes clicking against the smooth concrete floor. Louis felt euphoric in that moment, much like the first time he hit a blunt.
It was a feeling of complete excitement laced with nervous awe in the deep pits of his guts to the top of his head, clouding his mind.
"Let me show you," Louis looked down at the man. Dirty. Sickening. Unloyal.
