Dire {h.s.}

By queenadi03

75 0 0

In a world shrouded in darkness and danger, a young girl named Ava Manikova finds herself at the mercy of a n... More

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1 0 0
By queenadi03

Harry Styles

I haven't been able to see them for what feels like an entirety, and I'm so excited to be back home. The drive is almost over, from what I remember the bus driver saying. I know that everyone is there waiting for me, mum told me they would be there for my birthday, and to of course greet me back from camp.

This camping trip with Alex and Ollie has been fun, but I'm ready to be home.

"––Harry!" Alex's voice cuts through my thoughts, making me snap back to reality and look away from the window, the view being the passing trees.

"Yes?" I ask, giving him all of my attention now.

"I asked if you wanted to play cards with me, but you're too distracted daydreaming."

I smile and shake my head, "I'm good, but thanks."

"Why not?" he asks, raising a brow, looking offended.

I shrug my shoulders, "Not in the mood... ask Ollie."

He rolls his eyes and turns to his right, "Ollie, do you want to play cards with me?"

Ollie looks at him and takes a few seconds to think over the idea of this, before nodding his head. "Sure, why not."

For the next hour or two, I watch their card game go on and on, Ollie keeps winning and frustrating Alex, as he instructs to continue the game until he wins, despite always losing.

"You're cheating!" Alex exclaims after what seems the fiftieth round.

"Am not, you just suck!" Ollie snaps back with a laugh, frustrating Alex even more.

Suddenly, a girl appears standing at the end of our row, staring at us. Her dirty blonde hair is pulled into two braids going down her shoulders, and she's wearing an outfit of jeans, bright pink sketchers, and a purple jacket that seems too big on her. "May I play with you?" she asks, tilting her head.

Alex and Ollie exchange looks with me, before Ollie shrugs and nods, "Sure, why not."

A smile breaks over her face, "Great!"

Ollie slides over to give her space on the edge of the seat. "Okay, do you need instructions or do you know how to play?"

The girl nods, "I know how to play."

"Great! I'm Ollie, by the way." He says, introducing himself.

"Alex,"

The girl looks over to me, waiting for my name. "I'm Harry,"

She smiles back at each of us, showing small dimples within her cheeks. "I'm Avah," She says kindly, "But you can call me Av."

We've been watching Avah play cards with Alex over and over again, and she's been winning just like Ollie has. We've made the conclusion that Alex just sucks at card games.

"I win!" She cheers proudly, smiling from ear to ear.

"No fair!" Alex whines,

"Completely fair, we've been watching her." Ollie says, shutting Alex down immediately.

Suddenly, the bus comes to a stop. We all shoot our attention to the windows to find that we're at a stop... my stop.

"I'm home!" I cheer, instantly standing to my feet. "Finally!" I squeeze my way out between the seats and my three friends, before grabbing my backpack from the top shelf compartment of the bus, pulling the straps over my shoulders.

"We'll see you later then?" Alex says,

I nod eagerly, "Yeah!"

"Bye, Harry." Avah says with a smile, as Ollie and Alex scoot over to create more room from my now empty seat.

I haven't gotten to know her that much, but she seems friendly. "Bye, Avah."

She smiles at me, before I turn on my heels and race towards the bus' exit. The two doors open and I give a simple nod to the river before stepping out. The second my feet land on the ground, I take in the reality. I'm truly home, and I missed it so much.

I walk towards the house, no, I skip, too excited to be slow. I missed everyone, and with it being my birthday today, just makes things ten times more exciting. Once I get to the front door, I don't waste any time pushing it open. "I'm home!" I shout excitedly, "I'm home!"

But there is no answer, not a voice, not a sign of life to begin with. The house is silent, as if nobody lives here. It even feels empty.

"Hello?" I call out, hoping to get an answer. Maybe everyone is upstairs, or maybe they left for the store. But that wouldn't be the answer, because I saw their cars in the driveway. They should all be here.

My suspicion gets the best of me, and I decide to race up the stairs in hopes that I'd see them there. They might be in my room, waiting for me with balloons and smiles to greet me. I've been looking forward to seeing them, so hopefully they are home and they are just staying silent to surprise me right now.

"Mom? Dad?" I call out again, approaching my bedroom door. I swing it open, expecting to see a surprise of a lifetime, but the room is empty. Where are they?

Maybe they're in their own bedroom, I should've checked there in the first place.

I waste no time to race out of my room and towards their own. But I find their door is wide open, and I hear something. The sound of muffled voices speaking amongst each other. "Mom? Dad?" I ask, peeking my head in their room––

My eyes go big at the site in front of me.

My parents, the only people I love in this entire world, are on the floor surrounded in a puddle of their own blood. In front of them, three men dressed in all black with their hoods up. My mouth falls agape as loud sobs of my own cries and screams leave my chest before I find myself running towards them. I dive onto my knees next to them, "Mom! Dad! I scream in horror, "Mom, wake up!" I cry, my tears blurring my view of them. I can't even see how they're hurt, all I know is that they aren't okay. They need help, I need to call an ambulance or something––

Suddenly, I hear a voice speak chilling words that make my body freeze.

"Grab him."

I inhale a sharp breath as my eyes go wide and my head lifts from the mattress, awakening from my deep sleep. Jesus, that was a horrifying image I never wanted to look back at.

Slowly, I regain my consciousness towards the world and take in my surroundings. My room, the sun peeking through the window, the fact that I'm across this bed sleeping on my stomach, and the fresh tears sliding down my cheeks.

Avah Manikova

This office, everything about it sends a horrible feeling to my gut that I can't get rid of. My eyes look up to meet the ceiling, as if there is a dark cloud hanging above this entire room. I take in the dark wood shelves that hold an array of all sorts of books, some thicker than I've ever seen, all seeming to be either new or old. Even the chair itself looks terrifyingly rich, being covered in a dark leather that I'm certain is real. Despite this room's walls being painted a light cream color, the dark furniture and decor take away from the pureness of the walls and permanently make this room dark and threatening. But it matches with him, that's for sure.

The door opens and shuts within seconds as he walks around and takes a seat in the rich leather chair in front of me. "Good morning, Ms. Manikova." He says, looking up at me.

I put on my best fake smile to show him that I'm not extremely nervous, despite being exactly that. "Morning,"

"So, you've completed the task very well, from what I hear?"

I nod carefully, "I believe so..."

"You believe so?"

"I mean, yes–– I have."

He clicks his tongue and sighs, "Well, considering I have given you this as an opportunity to prove your worth to me... you have officially earned a spot with my..." he searches for a term to use, "crew?"

He takes my silent and blank face as an awkward reaction, because I really don't know what to say to that. I don't want to be here, and he knows that. I'm only here because they all have control over me. Despite all of the flashy treatment of giving me my own fancy bedroom and treating me like someone who isn't a kidnapped victim, it comes down to the fact that I can't leave this place without any of them guarding me from escaping. And the only thing that's keeping me from attempting to escape or trying to get help is the fact that he is going to kill me if I do.

"I'm still under your control though, yes?" I ask, my attitude peeking through my tone a bit.

He takes notice of this and raises his eyebrows in surprise, probably not expecting me to give him an attitude. "Don't get an attitude with me, Ms. Manikova, you are only alive because of me. I can kill you in a heartbeat," he says through gritted teeth, his anger radiating off of him, making silence run through me as I slowly back down from fear.

He stares at me with dark eyes, "You were kidnapped, and the business I used those girls for has been temporarily shut down. You were the last to remain, and I could've easily made the choice to kill you and start over, but I didn't. I wanted to see if you can be successful with my men, and frankly, you have been. Don't make me regret this decision, or you'll join those girls in their graves." He threatens, his eyes growing darker than I thought they could. His tone is so menacing, that it sends a chill up my spine.

I'm paralized with fear, feeling frozen and unable to speak or necessarily react from how terrified his words are. He really is the most intimidating and terrifying person I have ever met.

"Right, so you have a choice now, Ms. Manikova." He says, clicking his tongue, "You can either choose to continue with us, or die."

My options are so limited. I stare at him in disgust, how can those be two options? "... The first one,"

He pulls a devilish smile, "Great, I'll see you at the next meeting."

I nod slowly and carefully stand from my chair, instantly walking out the door without turning back to look at him, terrified to truly look at him again. I can't believe I'm officially trapped in this, and the only way to escape is through death. I can't–– I won't let that be my last option, no matter what I do to get there, I will find a way to escape. I will find a way to leave this situation and make it out alive. There's something telling me in the back of my mind that death is not the only way to escape his control.

I walk away from his office and up the stairs, trying to navigate myself through this massive house before leaving the front door of his suite and making my way over to our own. It's so weird to think I'm strictly permitted to live here for the rest of my life if I don't find an escape and despite everything being a luxury, its more of a prison than anything. Now he just won't treat me like a victim, but I'm still under his control. I walk inside of our own part of the house, shutting the door behind myself. The foyer is bright from the tall windows, but it seems rather empty. I can't hear a voice in sight.

But silence is nice compared to what chaos I'll be forced to live through for what seems to be the rest of my life. All I want to do now is mourn my ast life and cry it all out. I can already feel my eyes blur at the idea of never seeing my family again, or really living the normal life I wanted to. I had plans for my future. I wanted to go see the world, I wanted a family, I wanted to fall in love, I wanted to pursue my dream career of being a teacher. I've always been in love with the idea of teaching younger minds and being around kids, but now that dream is crushed.

I walk upstairs with the intention of going into my room, but when I hear more voices come from Harry's room, I can't help but peek inside, and considering the door is slightly open, I get a clear view. His room is empty, but the voices seem to be coming from his bathroom.

"Jesus Harry," I hear Liam say, followed by a sound of retching. What's going on?

I open the door further and walk through, following the sounds of throwing up. A trail of clothes is on the floor, leading to the bathroom. Even his shoes that I've nearly placed next to his bed are still there, but the rest of his clothes are mangled across the floor. I follow the trail all the way to the bathroom, only to find Harry hunched over the toilet bowl, with Liam running a panicked hand through his hair. He locks eyes with me, "Av, what are you doing here?"

"Is everything okay?" I ask, but before my question can be answered, Harry throws up loudly again, making me feel slightly sick from the sound.

Liam nods, "He's fine, just very hungover."

Harry finishes throwing up and leans back against the bathtub in exhaustion, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks horrible. His hair is matted, his eyes are red and glossy, he's nearly naked with only black briefs on, and I've never seen him look so weak and sick before. He looks up at me through his lashes, "Why the fuck––" he breathes out heavily, "––is she here?"

"She's worried about you, dick." Liam says, rolling his eyes.

Harry stares at me blankly from the tile floor, "Well don't, I'm––" he takes a deep breath, "––fine."

"You don't look fine," I argue.

Harry rolls his eyes, "Well I am, you can go––" suddenly his face goes pale, and he shuts his mouth with wide eyes before launching himself over the toilet bowl again and throwing up.

Liam shakes his head, "Here's a cup of mouthwash, squish that shit around your mouth, yeah?" he says, placing a small paper cup of neon blue liquid filled to the brim.

Harry gives a lazy thumbs up with his face still over the toilet bowl. This is so hard to watch.

"I'm leaving, work this shit out with yourselves," Liam says, walking past me and out of the bathroom. He leaves Harry's room annoyed, but I don't blame him, he's being rude and arrogant for no reason.

Harry finishes coughing up the last of what he has and settles back against the bathtub, nearly being left breathless as his chest heaves up and down. "You're still here?" he asks, his drowsy eyes climbing up my body before meeting mine. "Seriously Av, when are you gonna leave?" he asks, carefully reaching his hand to the counter top to grab the cup of mouthwash. He takes a big sip from it and squishes it around for what seems like forever, before leaning back down into the toilet and spitting it out. He looks away in disgust, I don't blame him, before stretching his hand to the back of the toilet and flushing.

I stare at him with big eyes, feeling dumbfounded at what to actually say. He's being so rude right now and for reasons I don't understand.

"Get the fuck out!" he yells, startling to the point where my body flinches at his tone.

Immediately, I take a step towards the door, but a thought crosses my mind, making me freeze. Slowly, I turn around to face him again, "No," I sigh deeply, crossing my arms over my chest and standing my ground.

I catch him off guard and he stares at me confused, "No?" he asks, raising a brow.

"No." I say sternly, "I'm not leaving you here on the bathroom floor to vomit all over yourself."

He laughs, "Av, if you want to help me, get me another bottle of vodka, yeah?"

"I'm not doing that."

He shrugs, "Then I guess you're not needed here right now."

I sigh and try to shake off his coldness, "Okay, first we need to get you cleaned up, because you're starting to smell."

"Thanks,"

I roll my eyes, "You just need a shower, okay?"

"No."

"Please?" I beg, trying to make my eyes look convincing.

He shakes his head, "No."

I start to get annoyed, "Oh my god Harry," I mutter in frustration, "why do you have to be so difficult?" I take a step closer with the intention of helping him stand up.

"Because I don't want to do that." He argues calmly.

"You want to rot on this floor?"

"Yes."

I roll my eyes, "Harry, Can you be serious for one minute, please?"

"No."

I sigh deeply, trying to calm myself from how much he's annoying me. "Come on, you're getting off the floor." I say, bending down and grabbing his hand.

"No!" he argues, his voice growing an octave louder as he tries to rip my grip off of him, but he's too weak from last night so he fails.

"Please Harry!" I beg, trying to face the hard part and lift him up to his feet.

"Av, no!" he protests with a laugh. How can he find this funny? It's like he enjoys seeing me struggle.

His laugh makes me laugh, "You're like a giant toddler!"

"I can start screaming if you want me to," he threatens playfully, but within his good mood, I manage to use the bit of strength I have to lift him up from the ground.

"Please don't!"

"Then get––" I struggle, but I start to feel myself being able to pull him up to his feet–– "up!" he finally stands to his feet from my own strength, but wobbles a bit, trying to catch his balance. He's hungover, but I'm guessing he didn't get much sleep last night to fully recover.

"Av, I'm serious," he threatens, "Don't make me go in!"

I roll my eyes, "Oh c'mon, you'll be fine! At the end, you'll be all nice and clean!" I pull open the shower door and try to get him to step inside.

He groans, "I don't need this!"

I freeze, and take a moment to sniff him. "Yes, yes you do."

His face twists and he looks offended. "I feel insulted!"

I laugh, "Well get in the shower and maybe you can change my mind!"

He turns around to face the open doorway of the shower, his back faces me as I take this as an opportunity to push him in. He stumbles a little and manages to catch himself with his hands pressing against the shower wall. "Avah Manikova!"

"Harry Styles!" I mimic his tone, reaching my hand for the shower's diverter, but I feel his own grab my wrist to stop me from doing so. I look up to meet his eyes, but instead he sends me a mischievous smirk.

Before I know it, Harry yanks me towards him, making me stumble inside of the shower and land against his chest. In one quick motion, Harry turns the diverter to the left, making the water spray out from in a veil over us. I squeal, ducking out of the way as if it would prevent water from touching me. Harry laughs at my reaction and the fact that he managed to get me inside with him, as we stand against each other, chest to chest. I look up at him through my lashes, water droplets slightly blurring my view of his face. It's now that I realize how closer we really are to each other, how close his face is to mine. Our chests heave the longer we stand in silence, but it's nothing awkward, it's more of us calming down from the rush we just endorsed together from the war we had getting him in here in the first place.

"Great, now we're both wet––" I barely get to finish speaking before he leans in with his eyes shut, and kisses me. My breath gets caught in my throat, I didn't expect this at all.

My lips naturally move in sync with his and I find myself moving my hand to his sides as he cups my face with his big hands. I take notice of how his breath smells of a mixture of mouthwash and alcohol, not the most appealing to make sense of, but it's not horrible.

Our lips part, and for a moment I need to recollect myself. I slowly peel my eyes open to find his are still shut as he recovers from the moment. With his hands still holding my face, he slowly opens his eyes to meet mine.

"It's either both of us, or none of us." He says,

I roll my eyes at him, "I never agreed to this part."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Ms. Manikova." He warns delicately with a smile.

I laugh, "I'm sorry Mr. Styles, but I'll do what I want."

He lets go of my face slowly and shakes his head with a laugh, "You say I'm difficult," he turns towards the small shelf holding all sorts of bottles and takes the shampoo in his hand. "But I think you're the difficult one, madam."

"Am not!"

He pauses and turns back to face me, handing the shampoo bottle to me, "Hold this for me, yeah?" he asks, and I take it without hesitation.

Suddenly, Harry's hands find the band of his briefs, making my eyes go big. "W-What are you doing?" I ask nervously, stopping his every move.

He pauses and looks up at me, "Well, to take a shower, one is usually naked..."

"Oh, right." I say nervously, looking down to try and avert him.

"So are you just going to stand here for the show or..."

"Right, sorry!" I quickly push open the glass shower door and step out, paralized by embarrassment. I'm trying to look anywhere but him right now. I walk towards the door, but he stops me.

"Avah," he calls, "where are you going?"

"What do you mean?" I ask with my back to him.

He laughs, "My shampoo..."

Oh my god, do I still have this? He made me way too nervous that I just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible.

"Oh..." I say, "right."

I take a deep breath, and shut my eyes before turning around to face him without actually seeing him. I take three careful steps towards the shower, sticking the bottle out for him to grab whenever I am close enough.

Suddenly, I feel his wet hand touch mine and slowly grab the bottle out from my hand. "Thanks," he says. I nod and turn back around to walk away, opening my eyes too. I'm nearly out the door again, but he stops me... again,

"Oh and Avah," he says, making me pause. "Don't ever try to get me to do something I don't want to, yeah?"

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