Abduction (Harry Styles)

Chapter 7

My eyebrows had to have been furrowed in my sleep because I was seeing more than I should've been. I was in a bedroom, like the one I had seen before in my dreams, except I was beginning to recognize the five boys on the posters on my walls.

There was one who caught my attention and struck me almost instantly. It was like a happier, brighter version of Harry, with more voluminous hair and kinder features. It was to the point where I could've almost seen him as cute -- hot, maybe -- and then I began to find myself even more confused all over again.

There were four other boys posed in all of my posters, side by side with Harry. And when I looked up at the ceiling, all I saw was Harry, as if he were more significant than the other four boys.

I seemed to have been sleeping a lot recently, for when I woke up I could barely remember the last time I was awake, although all of these memories that felt so foreign to me were implanted into my mind and I couldn't help but wince at everything around me.

I observed my surroundings and found Harry by the heart monitor, switching around some settings while I sat up slowly, viewing Harry as more significant than he ever did before. He looked so familiar and so much bigger to me, like he had some sort of white glow that made him shimmer. He suddenly appeared more attractive, more noticeable, and far more favored in my point of view.

On top of that, I felt relieved to finally be seeing him, for I was beginning to feel so alone and abandoned, to the point where my life felt as though it were at risk. He was finally here.

"You're awake, muppet." Harry noted, not bothering to turn around for he could hear me shuffle against the floors, where I had eventually fallen asleep after waking up alone, a part of me having expected Harry to be there for me after what had gone wrong with the experiment. "I've got a treat for you, actually. This is going to be great." His smirk was there, as always, and I ran a hand through my hair before completely sitting up against the wall in my hospital gown.

"What is it?" I asked curiously, watching him turn around to face me. Harry held an object - adildo, he called it, in his left hand, and a bottle of lube in the other. The dildo was a light, tan brown, similar to the color of skin, and it had a few ridges along the sides. I swallowed nervously, thinking of what I had seen in my dreams and my encounter with the previous dildo.

I was starting to have a conscience, and I felt strongly opinionated and like I knew the difference between right or wrong. It was terrible.

"We're going to test this out."

"No," I surprised both Harry and I by saying no. "I, I don't want to." I shook my head fearfully, knowing that there was no turning back. "I want to go home, Harry."

"Fucking hell." Harry murmured under his breath, approaching me quickly, forcing me to look up at him from where I sat on the ground. "Muppet, you're going to be a good girl and you're going to do this experiment with me, got it?"

"But it's wrong," I argued, trying to talk some common sense into Harry. Images, memories, were popping into my head the more I spoke and I flinched at the thoughts. "I know you from somewhere, Harry. You don't -- you're not supposed to do this." I felt freakishly nostalgic towards my next words, "you're More Than This."

"Fuck." Harry repeated the word. "You're too young for this. Come on, now, widen your legs for me." Harry kneeled down in front of me and watched me stare back at him with parted lips and a confused expression. Grabbing my thighs and forcing them apart, he lifted my night gown and grabbed the lube from where he'd set it down. "It's going to feel great, sweetheart, and you've been so good, you can do it."

I could tell that Harry wasn't used to persuasion like such, and that he was really just trying to get through with what he had to do. I shook my head and pressed my thighs together.

I didn't know what I was saying or doing, and before I knew it, I blurted out, "I want to go home, Harry." under my breath, grabbing Harry's wrist to stop him from covering the dildo with lube.

He looked up at me with a glare and snatched his hand away from where my hand was placed on top of his wrist.

"Don't touch me." He seethed, and I slowly felt as though there was more than the natural meaning behind his words. "Don't you dare touch me, muppet. I'm not in the mood to punish you for misbehaving. Now open your legs."

I hesitantly agreed in fear, spreading my legs about an inch apart. Harry rolled his eyes and put his hand in between my legs, pushing them apart with just his fingers and thumb. "Wider, sweetheart."

"What are you going to do -- what is that going to do?" I dismissed my first question because it was obvious, and Harry didn't reply nor respond through his actions.

"Open up." Harry repeated once more, visibly getting frustrated with me. "I swear to God."

"Harry?" I ignored what he said. "How come I know you?"

Harry just sighed and pushed my legs apart, catching me off guard, before inserting the dildo inside of me. I hissed and clutched his arm despite his various demands to not touch him, feeling the object suction inside of me -- onto my walls.

"Harry, I can't do this." I panted, before I got another massive headache, collapsing onto Harry. "I can't breathe." I spoke the truth, I was unable to breathe. My chest held a ton of weight and another image popped up into my head. Harry swore underneath his breath.

"Baby, tell me what you're feeling, yeah?" I shook my head, practically crying.

"P-Please, take it out." I whimpered, "Harry, I want it out."

Harry surprisingly obliged, quickly pulling the object out and setting it onto the table. "Shit, shit, shit." I slouched onto the floor after it had came out, but not before Harry had caught me. The unexpected weight caused him to nearly drop me, which led both of us to the ground. "What are you seeing?"

"I don't know." I cried, clinging onto Harry's shirt. "My head hurts and I'm going to faint."

"Fuck." Harry cursed the most in this situation, and I cried even harder. Harry held onto me with one arm and with the other, he pushed a button on the side of the table where he kept his stuff. "Is anyone else having issues with subjects 15 years of age or under?"

Something came through the speakers - something that wasn't English, nor was it any other language I'd ever heard. I wasn't sure it even was a language, for it was just a loud, ear piercing ring similar to static. It was sharper and it was nothing but a long beep, and Harry yelled. "Subject eighteen is also experiencing problems!"

Another loud, sharp, long sounding beep came through again, and Harry huffed, for about the millionth time, a distressed, "fuck."

"Harry." I murmured from where I laid on the floor. "I don't want to die. I want to go home."

"You're not going to die." Harry insisted and kneeled by me on the ground. "You're going to be physically fine. Forever." He murmured, before chuckling under his breath. "And ever."