Harry Edward Styles. Room 402 at Eastwood Mental Asylum. Known for turning his victims psychotic. To be handled with extreme precaution.

"I was scared... but wouldn't you be? If a serial killer was utterly obsessed with you?" Highest rank: #2 in Thriller

"I'm a monster!" he shouted in my face, his veins popping out on his neck. I tried to hold my tears but failed, all these months of patience and anger caused my body to shake, my heart was pounding so loud in my chest that my blood was boiling in my veins. "No Harry! You're not a monster!" I cried out loud, my chest rising and falling from my heavy breathing. He clenched his jaw and fisted his palms and in seconds, he punched the wall that was behind me right next to me, making me gasp for air. All the anger that built inside me was now replaced by fear as his piercing green eyes turned to a darker shade. "How can you say that after what I did to you?" he hissed, his hot breath hitting my swollen lips, his nostrils flaring. I took a deep shakey breath before I parted my lips to answer him. "Because I can see through you, Harry. I can see your innocence."

❝choose your last words, this is the last time 'cos you and i, we were born to die.❞