Hide & Seek (Larry Stylinson AU)

*LOUIS' POV* The open road is staring at me like a splitting mouth ready to consume me whole. I get into my car and sit staring at the bunch of letters in my hand like they contain summon notices from a prehistoric era or anthrax. They're already open, I didn't expect anything but. I take the one from the bottom of the stack to read first. Dear Louis I didn't think they'd let me write letters to anyone and I suspect that the postal system that has been put into place here isn't the finest so you might get this late. I wish they'd allow me to have visitors. I'd ask just for you because I never got the opportunity to tell you how I felt about our night. My room here is frightfully tiny and I can't turn my head without colliding with a wall. The food is beyond tasteless and I refuse to eat any of it. My doctor says I must eat or I won't be able to keep up my strength. I don't care, there's nothing to fight with in here that I'd need my strength for. Please write back. I want to hear from you. Yours, Harry I read the neat cursive handwriting that seems to stretch for miles across the width of the page, over and over until my eyes burn from being exposed to the air for too long. Deciding it best to get to my new home before handing the remaining envelopes' contents my uninterrupted and undivided attention, was an order. I switch on the radio to the frequency that hosted the station I once worked at - recently fired for lack of attendance. *HARRY'S POV* Make it dark, Harry. Let them fear the darkness. I was commanded and therefore I must oblige. In a deft and unintelligent move I slam the black lever down. The power house and every corridor in Psychera is plunged into darkness. One by one the overhead lamps lose their current and go out. Did I mention that most patients here are like me? Supposedly mentally corrupt to state of homicidal doings, and terribly afraid of the night. Come, son. We must leave or they'll catch us. In spite of Mother's and my violent argument several floors above us, I give my trust to her temporarily and follow her flickering figure through the black hole. "Why are you helping me?" I ask, pausing as she does. I have need for you "I'm not coming back to you or that house, Mother." And why not, Harry? "Because I won't help you hurt people anymore. I refuse." She cackles in the night and I am not afraid. Will you defy me? Your own mother for a waste of a life like that boy? I say nothing. Fine, Harry. She is in my face, all hot disgusting breath and bared teeth. I will make you both suffer. You will come back to me after you see how imbecilic you're being. "Never." She raises her hand to slap me hard across my face again, but at the sound of an alarm and voices straining on top of each other, she blinks into nothing. "Anyone down here?" The voice behind him speaks through the echoing hall filled with plumbing pipes and gas chambers. I could tell he was quaking like a pathetic leaf. I run. Outside is a bloody mess. More literally than any other definition offered. The gates rattle when strong unsedated patients slam doctors up against it to conduct their vicious will. I would not interfere and rescue anyone. There were no lives here that I'd bother with. Shrieks and cries, pleas for help and for someone to come defend them surround me. Coming from the doctors who not so long ago were injecting us with acids that were supposed to have medicinal value. I knew they were experimenting on us. We all knew. I watch it all enfold, standing in the dim light offered by the dropped flashlight of a security guard. A male nurse who was accused of getting forward with the young girls here was crushed to death, his head secured on a cement bench and a boulder of a man, Andrew, slammed him with a brick. Viciousness and vengeance all running rampant on the grounds otherwise used for feeding or exercise. I always had a deep-rooted hatred for exercise. Now I witness the coach being held up against the wired fence until red lines were created across his cheek and fingers, by Rupert's - the guy who slept two doors down from me - strength. I would not take a life tonight unless I was threatened, nor would I make an effort to save one. A pair of frail and skinny arms wrap around my ankles, earning my anger and irritation at being touched so boldly without any trace of familiarity. I kick the person off without caring to know their identity. "Harry!" It sounded like the nurse who attended to me this morning in the checkup office. She wasn't very pleasant company and I disliked her so. "Shut up, Ella." I mutter under my cold breath and her pleading is ceased by a wave of terrified screams. I am not picked on, mocked or provoked in any physical or verbal manner as I stride past this scene of ultimate horror. It would come back to me, it would come back to us all when a few patients escape and go on a killing rampage. It would be Hell for the closest town. Middleston. I look on as Charles, an otherwise pleasantly silent young man who believed that he was born into the nocturnal rituals of vampirism, commits a brutal deed of ripping the flesh of a young girl with the human teeth he was allowed. I did not recognise her but she shrieks and cries out for help. Someone from the extremely ill ward sees me and looks me over like he is deciding whether to charge or not. I stare back at him, daring him to try something and he finally steps back. I never forced anyone into obeying me but I'd carry out any threat if they ever tried to push me. Across the field a horrific collection of scenes carry on. The female guard usually posted at the head office is attacked and helpless against the advances of her foe. I felt pity for their victims, but a sense of detached pity where I did not permit myself to care enough to help them. They'd never helped me, never protected me from those needles that were pressed into my skin every night while I tried to sleep. I come to the end of a much too long pathway that ceases at the edge of a highway. The number 45 is printed across a sheet of tin indicating the route number. There are no cars, no abandoned gas stations along this road I'm headed down. I alternate to other side of the highway and start walking in the opposite direction to the way I'd come here. My ears pick up a faint sound, no alarms so it's not for me, but the burst of giggling fits just makes me clench my fists. "Need a ride, sugar?" The driver of the white Jeep, a young female, asks. I look up from the ground, honing what courtesy I possess. "That would be much appreciated, ma'am." *LOUIS POV* "You'll be staying here." The friendly landlady gives me a polite smile as she unlocks the front door to my new home with an aged gold key. The door is unmarked and painted blue, it has no neighbors and is situated above an Indian take-out restaurant. My rent was a measly five hundred a month, including water and electricity. Living here while I served as an employee at Johnny's Hardware, would be both boring and lonely despite my earlier enthusiasm. College plans have been suspended until I can find a good enough institution to attend that isn't in the realms of a city too far away. "This is the living room and kitchen." She motions to the tiny room fitted with a couch and television, then a slightly more spacious room with almost every piece of basic cooking equipment. "My previous tenant left everything behind." She explains. "Why?" I ask, mystified. She shrugs. "He moved to a bigger town with just the clothes on his back. Strange boy he was." We leave this space and travel to a narrow hallway, taken up by three bland white doors. I pay special attention to the one staring back at me at the end of the hall; its coat of paint seems fresher than the other two. "This is the bathroom." She opens one door to our left; the door to our right creaks loudly when she pushes it. "And bedroom." I step into the bedroom. It is surprisingly larger than the kitchen alone, allowing enough space for a comfortable bed - already installed - and plain desk against the window overlooking the customers that would visit the deli downstairs. The bathroom is less inviting but I have no intention of complaining since this is the most appealing and reasonable offer for prolonged accommodation I've received from the entire town of Dynasville. There's a pale white basin below a frosted white mirror, a reasonably sized shower section that allows the water to rain down into a bath on legs, and a window smaller than my fist. Okay, maybe not that minute but small nonetheless. "And that?" I point to the door that intrigues me once we step out into the hallway again. "The attic." She nods once. "It's uh.....always locked." "Do you have a key?" "No one has a key, son." She says moving away from it like it emitted a glowing repellant. "No one has in over a decade." "So what's up there?" "Old stuff is my best guess. Used it for storage mostly, by the previous owner of this building." Oh. The mystery behind the inordinately sealed barrier of a door has intrigued my liking, but since there was no existing access tool within my grasp I wouldn't allow any of my energy to be wasted on the quest for answers up there. "Thank you again." I say with a genuine smile as the landlady leaves. "If you need anything, I'm downstairs." She hands me the set of keys - two for my apartment door, one for main door that I'd have to pass each day I returned back here, and the gate that would grant me a passage upstairs. "I will. Goodnight." I bid as I close the door soundly. The clock face on my wristwatch assured me that eleven forty five was a reasonable five minutes from now. I'd arrived late after departing from the welcome sign of Middleston two hours later than I should have. Two hours and all I did was stare at a single sheet of paper with neat writing inscribed on the surface. I'd never touched the other letters. The walls of this apartment were covered in a frightening striped pattern that seems faded due to the time this room has been actively involved in people's lives. It's been worn away by time and the tide of humanity. On the wall adjacent to the one that the television leaned against, was a window wide enough for me to admire the public and tarmac streets of this town. I take my bags to the bedroom and dump them on the mattress. I wouldn't be sleeping on that tonight, I'd have to go out tomorrow and find new furnishings since I didn't plan on occupying the hand-me-down's of a person I did not know. It's too late to call home because Dad and Phoebe are probably asleep. I try Marie instead and she answers on the second ring. "Hey. How's the new place?" Is the first thing she asks. I put her on loudspeaker and start unpacking the first tightly zipped duffel bag. "It's really loud. I miss home." She laughs at my joke. "Middleston misses you too. You never told me about your new job." "I work at a hardware store now." I try to sound proud. "What about college?" "I'll try. Maybe when I have enough cash or can get a bursary." "Your dad could pay." "He offered but I also don't really want to go to college right now." I sigh loudly. "I'd never be able to concentrate with everything that's happened." That seems to have sobered her mood. "How you holding up with.....it all?" "I've been better." I laugh ruefully. "New subject?" "Fuck yeah." "Niall misses you." I burst into a fit of laughter. "That prick misses someone to fight with." "I wish you'd just put him on his ass when you had the chance." "The kid's a baby, Marie. He's the size of my finger." "Child abuse is frowned upon." She giggles. "I'll let you sleep since I'm also exhausted." "Alright. Laters." "I'll come see you when I can. Okay?" "Deal. Bye." "Bye." She hangs up and I hit End just as the line goes dead. I take in the silence of this circumstance and find myself constantly looking around the room not sure of what I'm expecting to find. Deciding it best to distract my paranoid mind, I go into the living room and switch on the television half expecting it to turn up static. Fawlty Towers is on and I cross my legs on the couch to watch. I feel somehow incomplete having abandoned my original task of unpacking my belongings. My navy file is resting on the arm of the couch. I nervously reach for it after remembering I'd shoved Harry's letters in here before leaving Middleston County Police Station. "Manuél!" I hear Mr. Fawlty shout on TV, carrying out a hilarious stage of his damaged authority in the renowned hotel he and his wife owned. I lift the fold of the second of eight letters, unfolding the paper to read. Dear Louis I'd written to you yesterday but I'm not sure whether or not you'd gotten it on time. If you hadn't, I'm writing to you again now. Nothing about the atmosphere here has changed. Everyone else is more severe than I am, I'm told, but I've made a friend or two without difficulty. Rupert. He used to be a jock. And Angela who never really talks but smiles sometimes at Rupert. There isn't a moment in time that I don't remember our night. It's what I think of when I try to fall asleep, and what I am reminded of when I awaken. It's scary here, I'll admit, but nothing frightens me enough to stop my investigations at night. Dan, he is a nice guy. He stands at my door some nights and I don't know why, but we have conversations sometimes. He's coming now and I must stop writing. Love, Harry I trace my finger over the smudges caused by his hasty writing at the end and his name that came out looking like just a line of scribbles. I feel heavy in my heart but not in a shameful or disgusting way. I feel especially alone now, with the kitchen light flickering and floor boards moaning each time I moved a muscle. I take the next letter out from the batch. The writing here is messier, all capital letters and no regard for neatness whatsoever. The page is crinkled from being squashed so many times. Louis They've done something. Something I cannot explain because I don't know what exactly it is myself. Everyone's different now, even me sometimes when I just can't stand the appearance of anyone for too long. They'd come in at any time of the night with these silver trays that make a terrible noise. They'd say it was nothing and inject me in my arm. It hurt terribly for almost twelve hours. I thought they were killing me. I was left alone in my room and I kept thinking about you, about our night and the fact that I didn't want to die. Everyone is more violent now, Angela was killed by another patient when she wouldn't answer him. I couldn't do anything. They wouldn't let me. I must leave this place now or I'll end up like the man who hit Angela. Write back, please. I need to know where you are, that you're safe so that I can find you. I hate it here. It doesn't even have a sign-off and my heart rabbits in my chest from the realisation that someone could have hurt him, or he hurt someone. Something bad could have happened to him in Psychera. *HARRY'S POV* "Tell me where he is or I'll skin you alive and leave you hanging by the fucking flagpole, Mik." I spit at the pathetic waste of life. I had him caged and blocked from the view of anyone passing or spectating. I never asked for these fucked up people to intervene, neither did Lou. Because of them I had to spend eight days locked up, and on my return I find that Louis isn't here. "I can't tell you, Harry." Though he tries to seem fearless, his bottom lip quivers. "Why the fuck not?" "Louis moved away because he needed space. Give him that, will you?" "He needed space from you people! Constantly fucking intruding when it came to his life. He doesn't hate me, he hates you." I pick up the glistening cleaver from the work table. "I'm going to ask you again and if I don't like your answer, I'll be sure that the last thing you see before you die will be me. Where. Is. Louis?" Internally the coward caved minutes ago, from the moment he saw me walk in here. However, he clung to a brave - and stupid - sense of heroism. "Dynasville." He sighs probably thinking that he didn't want to leave his six wives and just as many children fatherless. "That wasn't so hard, Mikky. Was it? Now, Dynasville is a big town. Where in Dynasville is he?" "H-Hardware store. Last I heard he'd rented a flat there and got a job at the only hardware store." "Thank you, Mikky. This conversation never happened, innit?" He shakes his head slowly and I grin. *LOUIS' POV* "Are you Louis?" The store manager, Paul, extends his arm towards me. "That's me, Sir." I shake his hand firmly and by the look on his face I'd say he approves of me thus far. "Do have any questions before I give you a tour?" I shake my head and he turns on his heel. Those god-awful cowboy boots that just creep me out. "Basically, you're my third employee here at Dayton's. The other two will be in soon so you can meet them, Seth and Roger." He says to me as we walk between two very tall, towering shelves. "You'll exchange shifts and duties with Seth and Roger according to whatever you three decide. They're nice guys so don't be afraid to ask them about whatever you need to know." He continues. "Decorations are on isle one, tools on two, ropes and cords on three, replacements on four, boxes and crates on five, everything else will follow. You'll have a locker in the storage room and here's your uniform." A set of navy T-shirts are tossed at me, concealed in a plastic Ziploc bag. I nod and Paul dismisses me with a wave. "Get to work! The ropes on three had mysteriously fallen and I can't have customers picking off the floor." He calls to me on his trek towards a red door behind the cashier's counter. I sigh. Time to get to work. I hide in the darkness of Isle Three before stripping off my current shirt, replacing it with my assigned duty-bound attire and shoving the old one into the Zippy bag. I leave the package on a high shelf before examining the damage of strewn and scattered ropes at my feet. Who comes into a hardware store just to- Footsteps cease my thoughts dead in its tracks, along with my breathing. I look at the store entrance and notice that nobody's come in. It was the shock rather than the story behind it that got me spooked. I realise that Seth and Roger must have come in so it's probably them. I crouch painfully to pick up what piece of rope I can with similar twines and place them in a cart of their specialty. "Lou?" A disembodied voice speaks and my head snaps up to attention. I don't know if I heard it for real or if the overheated condition of my subconscious has resulted in me hallucinating. I ignore the hairs on my nape that stand on their ends, and go back to doing my job. But it sounded so real. Like an echo from the distance, except I am in a hardware store that isn't open for trading hours yet. A horrid smell fills my nostrils and I scrunch my nose up in disgust. It smelt of rotting meat or drying blood, feasting bacteria or fading expired gases. Where did it come from? I look around the store, scanning the perimeter but there's nothing suspicious to accuse. The odour vanishes and I continue with work. I'm done tending to the collection of twenty varying ropes with different cable ties, and rise to my feet. My muscles creak in protest and I moan from rolling my head back on my shoulders. "Lou?"

Notes

I really don't deserve you guys but I'm keeping you anyway. Your comments have been nothing short of phenomenal! Here's the second chapter of a triple update, my lovelies :D for compensation of not at all updating this past half month. Enjoy! :) The next one will be up by this afternoon *promise* And of course, let me know what your connotations of this story are, thoughts, feedback and I would LOVE for you guys to give me story ideas.