The Runner ➳ Narry (Book One)

Chapter Thirty-Six

A/N: Switched POV's in this chapter. Thanks so much. Keep voting and commenting, let me know how you're liking the story. :)))

(Harry's POV)

It was dark. My head was throbbing, my wrists felt swelled. The ground beneath me was hard and cold, like concrete. I couldn't see anything, I couldn't hear anything. My chest felt as if it was on fire, every single breath hurt.

I sat up, pain attacking every inch of my body. It took me a second to contemplate I wasn't yet dead. I slowly felt around me, crawling on my hands and knees. It just seemed like a big, empty space. I started to panic, this fucking sucked. I had no idea where I was, the last thing I remembered was being thrown into the back of Jeff's van.

Shakily, I stood up. I immediately felt sick, doubling over and clutching my stomach. Feeling the surface of my skin under my shirt, areas were tender. I must be bruised.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward. Once, and then again. I held my hands out blindly in front of me, ready to catch myself if I tripped over something.

I was expecting a wall to be in front of me, or some kind of flat surface. Maybe a clue as to where I was, but I kept walking forward, nothing but empty air in front of me. I felt panicked, I felt sick. I felt like there were people or things surrounding every inch of me but I couldn't see them. I was bracing myself to be grabbed, or choked or something, but there was nothing.

I just about screamed when the lights flicked on. I squeezed my eyes shut, a burning sensation ripping through my skull at the harsh light. I took a minute to rub my eyes and let them adjust before turning around to look where I was.

I was standing in the middle of a large, empty room. The walls were plain white, no windows. There was a door on the far side of the room, a wooden one painted white like the walls. I made my way over to it, anger filling me.

I wrapped my hand around the small doorknob and twisted, but the door wouldn't budge. Scowling, I tried again, this time ramming my shoulder against it. Pain screamed in my ear, but I ignored it, continuing on throwing myself against the door. But, it wouldn't budge.

I stepped back, anger blurring my vision. I raised a foot and kicked it as hard as I could against the door, nothing happened. I did it again and again and again, grunts escaping my mouth and sweat dripping down my forehead.

"Why-" I kicked the door again. "Won't it-" Again. "Fucking-" Harder this time. "Open!"

Just as I was about to kick the door again, it opened. I stumbled forward, crashing straight into a body. "You're going to break my door." A hand immediately grabbed the back of my shirt collar, yanking me back into the room and slamming the door behind us.

I looked up to see Jeff glaring at me. "What the fuck do you want?" I asked, trying to pry his hand off my shirt. "Where am I?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Jeff said cockily, finally letting go of my collar and pushing me backwards. I stood up straight, a few meters in front of him. I kept my stance strong, in case he attacked.

"Where am I?" I repeated, feeling as if steam was radiating off of me.

"In a room, as you can see," Jeff sarcastically gestured to the empty space surrounding us.

"What do you want with me?" I huffed, stepping back once Jeff stepped forward. It kept on this way, him coming closer and closer until my back finally hit the cold wall behind me. Jeff reached out, his meaty hand grabbing hold of my shirt hem. I ripped it out of his grip, sidestepping him.

Immediately, his arm shot out and landed on the wall beside my head, causing me to stop abruptly. I felt a tug on my shirt again, and I quickly slapped his hand away. "Come on, Styles," Jeff said. "Let me see how bad I wounded you."