Status: In Progress
Unobtainable *Harry Styles Version*
Chapter 1
Pictures lined the wall of a seemingly quiet house in the rural countryside. Copious events in different periods of their life were on display. Every picture was normal. A smiling little face with bright blue eyes and blonde hair could be seen at the end of the visual display, its frame crooked; the outer glass streaked with a small smear of blood. The trail continued, catching small details of desperate scratch marks where the wall abruptly stops.
Echoes from the past could be heard, if one stops to listen. It all blends in to tell a story. Your story, and a rather depressing one, where a happy ending might not be possible.
Then again, what is happiness if not for sadness? What ties us all together if not for our own selfish humanities? What –
Harry Styles threw down his book with a deep grunt of frustration. He had been given a mystery novel to read and the opening scene did not allow for him to relax, not for a second. It was one of those interactive stories that he despised.
"Fuck you." He flipped the inanimate object off, bringing his body inward, resting his heels at the edge of a small cot he had been rewarded with for being good. Harry had been there the longest, his cellmate having just joined six months previous. His leg caught the chain he was forced to wear, bringing any further movement to a halt. It was long enough to put his feet on the floor, but not much else. A punishment for the last time he tried to cause a revolt; not that it was possible to pull off in the first place.
Cool, gray concrete slabs met his back, green orbs flaring at the steel bars in front. Six feet in front of that, was a soundproof, shatterproof locking door. It served to keep Dr. Heart sane and his captives from being heard.
"If you don't like the book, how's about giving it to me then, mate? I'd like to look at something besides...that." His cellmate gestured passed their prison to outside their cage. It looked like both a maternity ward and surgeon's operating room. Uniquely placed alongside a baby pram, was a surgery gurney with straps; a lit overhead light currently on, helping to bring all the glorious gory details to life.
Harry's face ripped back in disgust.
"Bloody two weeks we've been looking at this and he still hasn't had the decency to acid bathe her. I'd like to know who pissed in his lucky charms."
The other boy frowned. That was his girlfriend and his son.
"Hazz – "He began gently, reaching to touch the other's shoulder. Harry jerked away, facing right to stare at his concrete prison. It reminded him that getting attached to anyone, like his cellmate, was a waste of time. They all left eventually, because what the surgeon wanted was something no one but God could grant.
"Louis? Take my advice, alright? Stop trying to comfort them. Stop trying to be a white knight! We can't save them, let alone ourselves. Christ! They're as dead as we are." Harry interrupted tersely, flicking his hand out toward the dead girl. "Look what he did!"
Louis flinched, keeping his head positioned toward his lap. He didn't want to see. Below her, the light above illuminated more carnage; a scene worse than any nightmare anyone could ever imagine. A developing fetus; its small entrails hanging out from a giant cut in the would-be mother's abdominal. Dr. Heart had used his boot to end its development and the scalpel to end her.
Louis had been comatose for over a week, finally finding his way back only a few short days prior. It didn't sink in. He couldn't process what happened, his mind denied the fact that his family was gone.
Turning from Harry, he felt tears start to pool under his eyelids. Unfortunately, his self-pity was stopped short when the vent above them came to life, filling the space with a familiar hiss.
Louis shook his head.
"No! No, no, no, no, NO! NO!" He screamed, clamoring from his cot, his feet springing forward, only to be jerked back by the short chain. He looked at Harry with fawn-like cerulean pools; his panic in need of reassurance. Unfortunately, Harry maintained an expressionless glare. His dull-green eyes no longer the vibrant jades they once were. "Hazz! He got another one, didn't he?"
When Harry didn't respond; Louis knew the answer.
The gas quickly filled the room, soon overtaking the two occupants. Harry merely laid down and let his nightmares take hold. That's all his life was now; one big horrific dream.
Louis still held hope, he fought hard against the toxic fumes, but it became too much for his body to take. He felt as though he was flying, whiting his vision to see between the fog. Eventually, the loud noise quieted, carrying him into unconsciousness.
*******
Echoes from the past could be heard, if one stops to listen. It all blends in to tell a story. Your story, and a rather depressing one, where a happy ending might not be possible.
Then again, what is happiness if not for sadness? What ties us all together if not for our own selfish humanities? What –
Harry Styles threw down his book with a deep grunt of frustration. He had been given a mystery novel to read and the opening scene did not allow for him to relax, not for a second. It was one of those interactive stories that he despised.
"Fuck you." He flipped the inanimate object off, bringing his body inward, resting his heels at the edge of a small cot he had been rewarded with for being good. Harry had been there the longest, his cellmate having just joined six months previous. His leg caught the chain he was forced to wear, bringing any further movement to a halt. It was long enough to put his feet on the floor, but not much else. A punishment for the last time he tried to cause a revolt; not that it was possible to pull off in the first place.
Cool, gray concrete slabs met his back, green orbs flaring at the steel bars in front. Six feet in front of that, was a soundproof, shatterproof locking door. It served to keep Dr. Heart sane and his captives from being heard.
"If you don't like the book, how's about giving it to me then, mate? I'd like to look at something besides...that." His cellmate gestured passed their prison to outside their cage. It looked like both a maternity ward and surgeon's operating room. Uniquely placed alongside a baby pram, was a surgery gurney with straps; a lit overhead light currently on, helping to bring all the glorious gory details to life.
Harry's face ripped back in disgust.
"Bloody two weeks we've been looking at this and he still hasn't had the decency to acid bathe her. I'd like to know who pissed in his lucky charms."
The other boy frowned. That was his girlfriend and his son.
"Hazz – "He began gently, reaching to touch the other's shoulder. Harry jerked away, facing right to stare at his concrete prison. It reminded him that getting attached to anyone, like his cellmate, was a waste of time. They all left eventually, because what the surgeon wanted was something no one but God could grant.
"Louis? Take my advice, alright? Stop trying to comfort them. Stop trying to be a white knight! We can't save them, let alone ourselves. Christ! They're as dead as we are." Harry interrupted tersely, flicking his hand out toward the dead girl. "Look what he did!"
Louis flinched, keeping his head positioned toward his lap. He didn't want to see. Below her, the light above illuminated more carnage; a scene worse than any nightmare anyone could ever imagine. A developing fetus; its small entrails hanging out from a giant cut in the would-be mother's abdominal. Dr. Heart had used his boot to end its development and the scalpel to end her.
Louis had been comatose for over a week, finally finding his way back only a few short days prior. It didn't sink in. He couldn't process what happened, his mind denied the fact that his family was gone.
Turning from Harry, he felt tears start to pool under his eyelids. Unfortunately, his self-pity was stopped short when the vent above them came to life, filling the space with a familiar hiss.
Louis shook his head.
"No! No, no, no, no, NO! NO!" He screamed, clamoring from his cot, his feet springing forward, only to be jerked back by the short chain. He looked at Harry with fawn-like cerulean pools; his panic in need of reassurance. Unfortunately, Harry maintained an expressionless glare. His dull-green eyes no longer the vibrant jades they once were. "Hazz! He got another one, didn't he?"
When Harry didn't respond; Louis knew the answer.
The gas quickly filled the room, soon overtaking the two occupants. Harry merely laid down and let his nightmares take hold. That's all his life was now; one big horrific dream.
Louis still held hope, he fought hard against the toxic fumes, but it became too much for his body to take. He felt as though he was flying, whiting his vision to see between the fog. Eventually, the loud noise quieted, carrying him into unconsciousness.
*******