Lie to Me // Harry Styles A.U.

#3 HARRY

Gangsters don't cry
Therefore, therefore I'm
Mr. Misty-eyed, therefore I'm
Can you save, can you save my
Can you save my heavy dirty soul?
—

Clip point, tanto point, and needlepoint. No, no, and no.

I keep looking over the same three knives, trying to see which one is calling out to me. All of these are my go-to knives yet I felt like I needed something special, since we had a special friend. Not only did we love having late-night talks with our new companion, but we also found out that he was a cop. An F.B.I snake.

I fucking hated cops.

I grabbed the knives spread out on the table and strutted towards the chest before I opened the third drawer. I carefully put them down in their case and got a more memorable blade. Trailing Point. Fuck, I'm going to have so much fun.

I prepare myself with a few deep breaths before I head towards the basement. I've lost count on how many other vermin I have gotten rid of down here but it does not change the anxiety I get before the adrenaline starts pumping.

The blade feels slick under my fingertips. The all-black complexion gives me a boost of serotonin, black makes me feel superior. Not only does it make everything look so elegant and simple, but you also can't properly see the crimson liquid unless you touch the blade itself. I let my mind explore the different scenarios I can have fun with the weapon, knowing it had to be distinct to match the knife's precious memories.

"If you're not going to fucking listen to me and do what I say, I am going to make sure you won't be able able to fucking listen to anything." I slowly cut one of his ears off as I kept my finger plugged in his other ear, he didn't deserve to have any last moments of hearing.

As the ear splattered onto the ground, I opened his mouth and flattened his tongue so he could clean the blade. I then kept his mouth closed afterward so he had no choice but to taste his own blood drenching his taste buds.

Before I went on to finish the job, I decided to be nice and allowed my voice to be the last thing he heard. I leaned in close until my lips were brushing against his antihelix fold, "I hope you weren't planning on getting your ears pierced." I whispered as I sliced his ear off, the blade millimeters in front of my nose, unsure if he even heard the last part of my warm wishes. He couldn't hear clearly anymore and his screaming became louder. Him having a limited hearing wasn't a part of my plan, though, the whole sense had to be gone. "Let's get digging!" I said as I dug the sharp tip of the blade into the side of his skull, loud enough to hear me through his muffles and to get a reaction out of the boys.

I smirked at the memory as I came face to face with the basement snake. He looked at me with fear in his eyes, as if I should go soft on him. Hostages always had this tendency to give us the puppy-dog eyes to make us feel something for them when in reality, all it does is fuel our rage even more. Maybe if they minded their own businesses or listened to our warnings, they would not be in the position they put themselves in.

"Hello, Special Agent." I step closer to him as I twist the knife in between my fingertips. "Who sent you?" I never bother asking for names because they're going to be dead in the end anyway. And supposedly, it gives you a closer connection to them and I didn't need that. But it was fun seeing if they were willing to lie minutes before their death.

He didn't answer me, which was automatically the wrong answer. Within a blink of an eye, I opened his mouth and grabbed his tongue, instantly knowing what I was going to do with him very soon. Judging by his facial expression, my quick reaction caught him off-guard.