Fallen Angel||NH||AU||A Supernatural Inspiration.

Prologue

We walked into the dark building. The asylum was ransacked on the inside. Graffiti covered every wall and everything was coated with a layer of dust. Bottles and papers littered the floor. It was very dark. Our only sources of light were the moonlight coming through the shattered barred windows and our flashlights.

We went further into the asylum. The double doors we walked through had a sign about them that said "SOUTH WING". The door handles had a chain around them with a padlock, which was broken.

I heard a skitter to my left, but when I shined my flashlight there I didn't see anything

"Did you hear that?" I asked in a trembling voice.

"Yeah, probably just a rat," Niall said, shrugging it off.

Everything in the South Wing was also turned over. It looked like a sanctuary of some sort. The beds were on their sides and the white curtains were ripped off their rods. Syringes and medicine bottles littered the floor.

"Niall," I whispered, "I'm scared."

"Me too," he said. "But you have to admit this is adrenaline pumping."

Something squeaked and I squealed, moving closer to Niall. "What was that?"

He turned to me with an annoyed expression on his face and said, "It was just a bed that I bumped into. Look. If you're scared you could have just stayed outside. Better yet at home. It's just an old abandoned hospital for the mad. So if you want to leave, be my guest. Go outside and let me find it myself. Do you want to leave?" I shook my head "no". There was one way. There was no way I was going to go back out through an abandoned asylum myself. "He said it was in the surgery room," Niall said. "I wonder if this is it." He pointed to a white door. The letters on it smudged so it was hard to make out what it said. Niall opened the door, with me following behind. Unfortunately, it was just a storage room.

We walked out of the small room and back out to the infirmary. Something caught my eye. There was a three-digit number scratched into the wall. That scared me because that number was not there when we opened the storage room door.

"Niall," I said in a shaky voice. "Look." I pointed to the numbers on the wall, Niall's eyes following my finger.

"What the hell?" he said.

The three-digit number was 138. A part of me had no doubt a ghost scratched that into the wall. Something told me that the number was the room number of the surgery room. I also had no doubt that the spirit wanted us to find the book before Zayn did just as much as we did.