
Prisoning Truth
Mailbox. (26th Chapter)
Harry’s POV:
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I open the door slowly, as it reveals someone that could never have crossed my mind. “(He smiles darkly) Well, I could have called before showing up; but you know me I don’t give a fuck about manners.” My lungs screech in an angry reply: “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE, HANSEL!?” He shakes his black hair, stepping inside without my invite.
“Now, now Styles. This isn’t the time for acting all bitchy with me. (He chuckles while I begin to tense) The boss sent me to check out your updates on the girl. Have you found her yet? (He smiles devilishly, poking his head to look around) Is she here?” I push his shoulders with force, making him stumble back to the door.
“(I spit, while my fists tug at his shirt’s collar) She’s not here, and if you come barging in again to my house; consider your own funeral watched from hell itself.” The maniac laughs at my threats, and all he does is shake his head. “I wouldn’t be hurting me if I were you, Styles. (His tone shifts to seriousness) The boss is not going to have a smile on his face when he knows your stamina is slowing down.”
I was a blink away from snarling at the bastard again, but a sudden voice makes my fear hitch. A rattling noise comes out of the kitchen, and then everything goes silent again. Hansel’s dark eyebrows rise up in shock, while my eyes go wildly wide. “(I mumble) That’s the dishwasher.”
He chuckles slowly, before replying: “I never asked what that noise was. (He smirks) I’d like to see that dishwasher myself, right now.” I pound his body against the wooden door, still tugging his collar in fury. “NO YOU WILL NOT! IT’S NON OF YOUR GOD DAMN BUSINESS!” His face distracts my eyes, while his sneaky hand slips a pocketknife out; allowing him to have a better chance in hurting me.
“(His filthy grin never washed off, while he poked my chest with the tip of the knife) I said I want to see that dishwasher. Don’t make me call the boss and tell him his trustworthy Styles is being secretive of something. (He threatens) You don’t want to risk your mother, or your sister’s life right?”
I lost all my temper, I couldn’t even see straight or think it either. My fist flies over his stomach, making him bow his head to the front from pain. He is pressuring me to murder him, and I don’t think I would regret it if I did either. I open my mouth to yell at him to leave, but he takes the advantage of slashing my leg with the knife; making me stumble on the ground.
“(I find my strength under the pressure of my hissing) GET OUT OF HERE, OR I SWEAR I’LL SEND YOUR DICAPITATED HEAD TO YOUR MOTHER THROUGH HER MAILBOX.” I know I have touched a sensitive spot in the little devil’s feeling, because his face turned red as a reaction. He opened the door, slamming it shut behind him; allowing me to groan from my pain.
I notice my sweatpants changing its colour to a crimson shade, enlarging the blood cluster on my wounded thigh. “(I croak in pain) Giselle…” And that’s when my body began to drain. The blood spill became wider, as my head began to turn light and dizzy. Suddenly, I felt two tiny palms shifting my head, and placing it on something fluffy and soft.
Notes
1 more chapter, just:
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