what happens? // one direction

Chapter Twenty Two.

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*Harry's POV*

"Don't! Please stop! Please, don't hurt him!" Eleanor cried, and I turned my head to see her coming towards us, her body shaking with fear and cold.

"El, I'm going to be okay. Stay where you are, honey," I reassured her, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady and certain.

The man smirked, keeping his grip on the knife that was still pressed onto my skin gently.

"Harry.." she whispered, tears spilling from her eyes and splashing to the ground, her orbs puffy and swollen.

I felt the knife press a little harder into my skin, until it pierced it and made a tiny cut. I bit the bottom of my lip in pain, trying my hardest not to scream. The man snickered, pleased to see my pain and hurt, as well as Eleanor's.

"Sh, El. Don't watch," I said softly, water filling in my green eyes and threatening to spill over. I knew that he was going to kill me. He was going to kill me, right in front of Niall and El, for no reason. I was going to die. I was going to be murdered.

"No, Harry, please..no," she sobbed, falling to her knees as the tears rushed out like a waterfall, burying her face in her dirt filled hands.

I closed my eyes, not able to deal with seeing her in such pain and hurt. I wanted to go and comfort her, but I couldn't. I was incapable of doing so, as a knife was pressed up against my neck by a psychotic man. I couldn't possibly imagine how El felt, having to watch me like this right in front of her very own eyes.

I gulped and took a deep breath. "Niall..take El and get out of here.." The man let out a little chuckle, probably because he knew he'd end up finding and catching the others anyway. Still, it was worth trying to escape. Don't give up without a fight..

"What..what about you, Harry?" Niall stammered, his voice shaky and dry.

"I'm fine," I sighed, knowing that it was a lie. I wasn't fine at all. I was terrified, and I was about to be brought to my death bed in a minute or so. "Just..please, take El and get out. Please, Nialler, do it for me."

I opened my eyes, the tears now running down my cheeks.

Niall nodded, tears streaming down his face as well now. His neck had stopped bleeding now, which I was very thankful for. At least he'd be okay for now. "Okay, Haz."

I forced a small smile on my lips. "Thankyou so much, Niall. I love you, mate," I said quietly, closing my eyes once more so I wouldn't have to look and see the sadness and pain in his blue eyes.

"I love you too, Harry," he choked, quickly followed by El's anguished screams.

"No! We can't leave him, Niall! No! Stop! Please! Harry! Harry!" Eleanor screamed, the volume of her cries becoming fainter and fainter as each second passed, before I couldn't hear her anymore.

I opened my eyes once the screams had faded away, only to see that Niall and El were nowhere in sight now. Niall had listened to me and ran for it with El, and hopefully they'd make it out of here, other than myself..

There was one thing I realized a few minutes ago, with the knife pressing into my neck, causing some blood to run down onto my chest. I realized that I wasn't really afraid to die anymore. You know why? Because I get to be with the one I love, Carina Garcia. I get to see her again, hear her mesmerizing voice again, touch her soft, delicate skin again. It'll be paradise, and I'll love and cherish every second of forever with her. I don't think I've ever wanted to die more than I do now. As long as I get to be with her in the end, I'll be fine. Hey, maybe BooBear will be up there too. Sam too, maybe?

"Any last words, Harry Styles?" the man smirked, his lips tugged up into an evil grin.

"Thankyou," I said softly, giving him a warm smile, which only seemed to piss him off even more.

"Oh, it's my pleasure," he replied, just as he jabbed the knife into my throat, automatically causing my airway to be blocked. Blood began to run out of the hole that he had made, the warm, sticky liquid streaming down my throat and all the way down my chest. The pain hurt like fire, a fiery burning sensation in my throat. I began to choke, since no air was allowed to enter my airway, and I threw my hands up to my neck helplessly.

The man continued to smile in pleasure at what he was doing to me, the pain that he had caused me to suffer with bringing joy and happiness to his dark eyes.

"How does it feel, pretty boy?" he asked sickly, the grin even wider and bigger now on his lips. "Is dying fun?"

I began to choke even more, as warm liquid began running up my throat and into my mouth, where I quickly spit it out. The taste of metal filled my mouth as more of my blood spewed up and out of my body. The burning sensation became more painful now, this time it occurring in my lungs and heart as well.

I felt my eyelids going heavy and sleep beginning to take over me, as my clothes became fully soaked with my dark scarlet blood.

"Sweet dreams, Styles," were the last words I heard, before he shoved the knife completely into my throat.

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