THE SCRATCH (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

CHAPTER 3

I wake up and inmediatly I feel something that I had never felt before. It's quite weird, something like...disconfort. "What the fuck is going on?"I think. I look around and nothing is what I expected. My closet isn't there, nor is my bed, the window I look through everyday. That's not my room.

-Hello?- I scream. -Anybody there?

I can see no one surrounding me. The room is fucking empty. I have slept in a tiny tough bed, and there is northing apart from one little lamp on a desk. And a door, a door beside the bed. I open it and see lots of people there talking, but no one seems happy.

-He-hey. Where am I? Why am I not at home? What happened? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?

The strangers look at me very carefully One of them, a curly haired boy takes my hand and pulls me towards him. -Come here- he whispers.

-Who are you?- but he doesn't answer.He's looking at me. So I look at him. His hair islong, curly and brown.He smiles at me and I realize he's got deep dimples. He is way taller than me, and is dressed in a black tshirt and skinny jeans. And his arms are full of tattoos of all shapes and sizes. -Who are you?- I repit, impatiently.

-I'm Harry Styles, and don't look at me like that. I don't know what'shappening either, okay?

I flush and then say a quiet "okay".

I take a quick look at the people surrounding me. In general, there's people fromdifferent ages, I can see old ladies and children between us. I realize that there i another door in the other side of the room, and I ask Harry (he's the only one whose name I know) why haven't they opened the door yet. A "we're afraid of what might happen" is evrything he answers.

Suddenly the door opens and two men come into the room. They seem to be 40, despite none of them has even got beard. They look dangerous and I sob violently. "I don't want to die" I cry. They both fall into laughter and tilt their heads back whilethey continue laughing.

-What's so funny? -

-We won't be killing anyone, little girl. Do you even know why are you here?

-The only thing I know is that I'm going to call the police right now, you bastards.You don't know how much... -but I interruptmyself: my phone isn't in the pocket.

The man in the left starts speaking:

-We are all here together because of omething that is happening lately in the city. I bet most of you have heard about the women killed throughout this last two weeks. We obviously don't know who the murderer is, and that's why you are here.

-Why doesn't the police take upon this? You don't need us. We are just normal people. -A young woman dares to say.

-No, you aren't just normal people- the other man replies, the one in the right, with a smirk. -Look at your wrist. Everybody. You have a scratch, haven't you? Right, do you know what does that mean? Aren't you looking forward to knowing it?

-Actually, not- the same woman snaps.

-We are telling you anyway, either you want to know it or not. That scratch means you are way more intellingent than the other people. Your intelectual IQ is really really high. It scares. Don't ask me how we figured out whether you have the scratch or not. I'm not teling you.

-Oh, c'mon, we deserve to know it! -a black man snaps.

-I said no- the man answers, angry.

Theyexplain us they want us to catch the murderer who's killed alll those women before he follows killing people. I should be at school right now, having a laugh with Stella or watching how she drops out because of her bad behaviour. And my mum...my mum! Ella! She must be worried. I know she never gave ashit about me, but I have disappeared and...

-What you looking at -I ask Harry. She is staring at me with crossed arms.

-I can't stand with you. You act like you will solve this chrime and that you know more than the others. Just a friendly reminder that we are all the same.

-Don't look at me then!- I snap. He was kind at the beggining. But after saying those rude words I don't think the same about him.

Now my question is: how are we going to find out who the murderer is? And why did they kidnap us instead of hanging out with us in a Starbucks, for example? I don't understand anything.

-What shall we do first? - an Asiatic children asks.

-Give the profie of the man. You know, how old may he be, how is him, where could he work...

We all decideit's a man and not a woman, taking into account how he abuses of them. All the murders were near each other, so he must live in one of those streets. According to his behaviour, he is intelligent but not too much, as well as untidy and careless. He might be so stressed and angry in his work that he needs to kill women to find a sort of calm and inner peace. And he might be between 30 and 55.

I am so confused. We can't do that, we aren't the police. I am not even 18. How do they expect me to do that? Plus my mum must be really worried. What ifshe calls the police? The REAL police? Harry and I are suddenly alone. I realize it now. I guess I was lost in my thoughts.

-Where have they gone? -I question him.

-They've gone to speak with the families and see what they had in common, you know. Were you thinking of me?- he giggles.

I think of a comeback but I don't come up with anything, so I say nothing. -And what shall we do?- I finally ask.

-We could go see the dead women. Maybe we come across something interesting.

-That's disgusting!

He smiles and we go.

We are taken to a laboratory where the victims lay. Disgusting is actually the best word to describe it. Even though they aren't as bloody as the victim I saw was, I can't look at them more than 10 seconds because I feel like I'm going to vomit.

-Are you feeling bad?- Harry inquires. I say no with the head to imply that I'm okay. But I'm not.

-I don't find anything uncommon to be honest- I say. Neither he does.

Then we are shown the pictures of how the victims were found and where.

-They were all found in open spaces and little traveled streets. Almost no one lives there. The clothes are different from each other: one girl wears a red dress, another one wears a shirt and black trousers, other one wears a school uniform. However, they all wear a loop tied arount their waist. And they all look alike a lot: they have the same colors. The colors of the raimbow. Or the colors of the homosexual flag.