Over the Centuries

Teil Fünf

As Harry waited for Louis to return, he thought he'd settle in a bit more. He started by opening the wardrobe, thinking he could place his clothes on the shelves or something. Yet there was very little room inside for clothes, as all sorts of knick-knacks that are usually found at your grandparents' house. Harry wondered where Louis had gotten all this stuff. He hung his shirts there and thought he'd just ask Louis where he could put his things later.
Harry pulled out his laptop from where he'd packed it in the rucksack Louis had unloaded from the car. While he understood that he couldn't browse the internet he figured watching a film couldn't do much harm. He'd downloaded a couple of random films without much thought some months ago and he decided that now was the perfect time for mindless movie-watching. He selected one without looking at the title and ended up with a very uneventful film. The dialogs were certainly interesting but it in itself couldn't even keep him awake. And he fell asleep with the laptop heating his stomach, laying spread over the covers.

Panic and distress took over him completely as he fought against the restraints around his wrists and ankles, tying him to the chair. He'd scream if it wasn't for the thick tape over his lips, silencing his despair. Tears splashed when he blinked to see through them.
The walls were rounded and made of glass. Three men with massive builds and guns.
Perrie was on the floor with an infant by her side, lifeless in the mix of their blood.

The world seemed so small and unfair. Yet so vast as he hadn't seen enough of it in his young years. Harry stood before the noose hanging in front of his face. And beyond he saw the villagers, staring back with hatred. They had been like family to him all his life, and now they only offered him their spit on his shoes.

The man who had shot Perrie and her child now walked, gun in hand, over to the child's father and pressed the barrel's end against the tanned skin under his jawbone. Zayn looked dead already. His soul perished when the trigger was pulled on his love and child. But Harry tried to shout through the tape but only muffled sounds were audible. The man laughed as he splattered brains and laughed when Harry fought and cried.

The noose was brought over his head and tightened around his neck. He made sure to look his family in the eye, pierce them with his greens, until his eyes wouldn't see anymore. He drew a deep, appreciative breath. As he knew it was his last.
And then the wooden floor of the platform vanished beneath his feet.

The man, whose face had droplets of Zayn's blood on his cheek placed his gun upon the marble floor and picked up a dagger with an exceptionally broad blade. He swung it at Louis' throat and Louis' blue eyes were earnest as he mouthed "Sorry" before the blade hit its mark and Harry sat up erratically in the cabin's bed, sweating and panicky. It was dark and he couldn't see much at all. It didn't do him any favours as he stumbled over a wide lump and fell mercilessly to the carpeted floor while on his way to the kitchen. At least the matt softened the impact. A loud groan echoed in the silence from where Harry had fallen, and for a moment panic rose in his throat only to be suppressed by the realisation of having had fallen over a sleeping Louis on the floor. No longer sleeping, the disoriented man ruffled his hair and squinted into the dark abyss.

"Harry?" he whispered cautiously, and the younger sensed some suspicion in his voice.

"Yeah?" Harry croaked, cringing at his own sleep drowned voice.

"Wha' are ye doin'? Louis slurred, now relaxed as he had confirmed his attacker's identity. He sounded concerned though, as it was in the middle of the night and Harry was wandering about. He reached for the bedside lamp suddenly, as if realising something. When artificial light hit their faces and Louis worried expression was revealed to Harry, the younger frowned at the tenseness to his posture.