The voices had started at the mere age of 12, it was like standing in an empty cave and having thousands of people whispering loudly, and the voices echoing and bouncing around the walls, overlapping each other until the noises were unbearable. No matter how many times he'd tell his parents about the voices, they'd ignore him, they'd brush it off. It was the first sign of schizophrenia. The anger had started soon after, it was easy to control at first. He'd just push it to the back of his mind, toss it into an imaginary trash can. Except, every time that he'd get angry or triggered, he'd continue stuffing the emotions to the back of his head. He was emotionless, but the more he pushed it back, the louder the voices got. The voices would tell him to be angry, feel the anger. But Zayn was terrified of the anger, because sure, he'd felt anger before but this was something else. The anger that would pulse through him would make his finger tips tingle, and his chest burst in flames, his throat would close up, and his blood would rush through his system fast. It was blinding white, sometimes it'd even paralyse him. 

From the age of 12 to the age of 19, he'd keep it bottled inside, but everything explodes eventually once overstuffed. It just happened to be the one night he was out in public. He would have blamed the alcohol in his system but there was none yet. He had the drinks waiting at the bar, but he'd been too busy watching his best friend talking closely to his girl, his hands resting on her hips. She was drunk already, oblivious to how close he was, and how close Zayn was to the edge. Zayn always carried a gun with him, whether it was hidden beneath his leather jumper, or in his combat boots. He wore them because his voices would warn him about the dangers of modern day society. Zayn kept fighting the rage that was pooling in his stomach, he fought it off as it spread to every inch of his body, his hands shaking and his legs aching. He kept his distance, went outside and had a smoke or 5. He even punched a brick wall, busting the skin slightly. It didn't kill off the anger, it was just getting stronger. He knew it was happening, because he could feel himself losing all sanity, and it genuinely was terrifying. 

He could feel his mind sinking in the rage that was taking over his body, and soon enough, the voices had exploded from the glass cage they'd been trapped in. They were deafening, screaming at Zayn, telling him that if he didn't get in there and kill the man, he'd lose his girl for the rest of his life. He sat in the alley way, trying his hardest to calm himself down until he couldn't breathe properly. It was poison, slowly filling his blood stream, drowning his mind, filling his every thought. It seemed that in that moment when he looked down at his bleeding knuckles, all sanity had disappeared. It was all so fast, yet so slow. He had stood up, marched right into the bar, and he saw his mates mouth on Kelsy's mouth, and he didn't even hesitate to pull the gun that was buried deep in his jacket. The screams of realisation from around him were silenced by the shouting in his head. He marched right over to the bar, and placed a shoulder on the man's shoulder. He turned around, eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed. 

"You fucking messed with the wrong person," Zayn managed to spit, his voice strained, veins in his neck protruding and eyes burning into his friends face. 

Before anyone could speak, her raised the gun and pulled the trigger, just within a second. Except he held the body up with one hand, and shot again, until there were two open wounds in the man's head and blood pooling onto the floor, blood splattered all over himself and blood all over his girlfriend. The voices were automatically silenced, everything was silenced, slowed down. He stared at the body that he held up with one clenched hand, and his clenched fist, relaxed. He didn't step back as the body fell limp at his feet. He looked straight at Kelsy and she just stared back, green eyes wide with terror, filled with tears. She had dropped the glass that was in her hand, and the floor was covered in alcohol and shards of glass. Zayn had reached forward, and she flinched. Zayn was so numb, so quiet, for the first time in ever. 

"Kels," 

She didn't reply, she just looked down at the body and screamed, screamed so loud that Zayn even was pulled out of his trance, and he noticed why it was so quiet, because the music had been shut off and everyone had literally shut up, except for faint screaming and shouts of horror. It was still dark, but light enough to notice the blood splattered all over her tanned skin and soaked through her white top. Zayn had grabbed her arm, tightly, but not enough to hurt her, and started repeating her name. She was crying, she wouldn't even look at him. 

"I love you, I love you," 

Except, the words that would usually save him, didn't, because she pulled her arm out of his grip, and she was still crying, and screaming. Zayn didn't have a chance to say anything else, because he was shoved face first into the bar with a loud "oomph". His hands were shoved painfully behind his back and before he could actually fight back, he felt the cold metal against his wrist, and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He tried to trash against the men pinning him down, but he was too busy watching as Kelsy was being taken away and out of the room by a police officer and a paramedic. Zayn didn't speak, he just stayed still, and let the officers shout at him. He knew he was going to hell anyway, so why not just go there now? 

He imagined hell as actual hell, where you'd be locked in a room with no sunlight, no friends, nothing, where you'd slowly starve to death, or end up losing your mind and smashing your head against the walls so hard you bleed out. So when he was taken into the mental asylum, he just stared at the walls for the first few days. Admiring at how some people had left indentations, and scratch marks and there were blood stains, SO some people do actually hit their heads until they die.  The food wasn't half bad, it wasn't enough to make him throw up, but it wasn't enough to make him feel fully satisfied. It was dark, not pitch black, but dark enough so he couldn't really see about a meter or two in front of him. He sat close to the walls, head pressed against the cold cement, hands still cuffed behind his back. It felt like 9 years, but in reality, 4 days later two nurses came and got him, cleaned him up and he was seen by Head Mistress Landles. He was then told that he had basically a life sentence here, and would rot away and would eventually be forgotten. It was quite uplifting. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, tell me about yourself," Zayn whispered

He stared at the ceiling, one arm resting behind his head, and the other hand holding a cigarette. He breathed out the smoke, and watched in amusement as it danced around him in thick clouds and disappeared a second later. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling the dirty air, and then looked at Louis. Louis was actually quite attractive, he had an amazing bone structure and glowing skin. He had brunette hair, that was just long enough to flick in different directions, and swept across his forehead in a fringe. His teeth were characteristic, small and looking like they'd been chipped slightly. He had a scar on the corner of his left eye, but Zayn would ask about that later. He was short, about a head shorter than Zayn, which Zayn found amusing. The boy was pretty thin, but fit enough. Louis looks back at Zayn and then starts to fidget, a nervous habit. 

"Well, I'm 21. I lived in Doncaster, I don't know how I ended up here, but I did. I don't know what to tell you, and what is too much information, so I'll just tell you basics. My favourite colour is Aqua, I like beaches and I like getting drunk. My favourite movie is Step Brothers, and I like pizza, a lot, how about you, Zayn?" 

Zayn exhales another massive cloud of smoke and chuckles to himself because there is so much he could tell this man, and he'll tell him everything, because what has he got to lose? 

"I'm 19-,"

"You're fucking what?" Louis squeaks

"Nineteen, did I fucking stutter?" 

Louis pales a bit and then shakes his head before mumbling "continue". 

"I'm 19, I lived in Bradford, I fell asleep in a jail cell, woke up a cop car, and next thing you know, I was being basically carried inside here. Favourite colour is black, because I like the darkness, it's unlimited, it just goes on forever. I like guns, smoking, drugs, knives, flames, basically everything you won't like, I like dogs too, they're great. I had a dog once, his name was Boris, but he passed away when I was 11. I love to get so drunk that I can't get out of bed for about a week or ever remember anything. My favourite movie is Psycho, and I like junk food.  I get an adrenaline rush seeing someone bleed because of me, I thrive off the feeling of terrifying people, I love to hurt people, it's in my nature. The last time I had sex was the morning before the shooting, well actually afternoon. I have a girlfriend called Kelsy, she's the one I fucked by the way. I jerked off today to the sound of someone screaming down the hall, I think that's it," 

Louis swallows down the bile that's building in his throat.

"I-,"

"Oh come off it Louis, we're cell mates, we're gonna have to know everything eventually. When was the last time you had sex?" 

"I'm a virgin," Louis barely utters

Zayn perks up at the words and leans in, eyes sparkling and lips pulled back into a sly grin. Louis stared at him, and he can't help but notice how good he looks with that stupid lip piercing. 

"I said, I'm a virgin, did I fucking stutter?"

Zayn laughs and Louis smirks, because yes, he did just steal Zayn's line.

"Well there you go, you're 21 and you're a virgin, that's probably why you're a suicidal freak, who wouldn't be."

"Excuse me-,"

"I got laid when I was 12, damn," Zayn laughs, lighting another cigarette

It's silent for a few seconds and he can hear Louis typing away on his laptop, on that stupid blog that these therapists make you do. 

"Last time you had a wank?" 

Louis coughs a bit, and then shakes his head.

"I can tell you now, you're my cell-mate, you'll be knowing when I do," 

Louis fights off the urge to blush a ruby red as Zayn winks at him and then closes his eyes again.

"Honestly, it's been a while,"

"If you say something like 3 years or something, I will do you a solid and jerk you off, for you," 

Louis' breath catches in his throat, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants, and he looks back at Zayn and then at his laptop, so Louis kind of tweaks the truth.

"I did it about 6 months ago, I think,"

"fucking may as well be 3 years," Zayn groans

"What?"

"You're so boring. Never been laid, haven't wanked in 6 months, have you even had a girlfriend?"

So. This is where it gets tough because Louis could come out about his sexuality right now, or he could just lie, but Zayn IS his cell-mate and he'll find out eventually, but maybe lying for now is okay. So Louis breathes and shakes his head.

"YOU'VE NEVER HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!?" 

Zayn's laugh echoes around the cell, bouncing off the bright walls and sending shivers down Louis' back.

"Mhm,"

"You've got to be kidding," 

"Nope,"

"I'll get you a girlfriend, there's some pretty banging chicks in here, Louis,"

"Not really interested in having a girlfriend," 

It goes silent. 

It stays silent. 

Louis slowly looks up from his laptop and notices Zayn staring at him, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown and he brings his 4th cigarette within the hour to his lips, inhaling and exhaling. Louis kind of thinks that he's about to have a heart attack.

"You're not interested in a girlfriend? Or girls?" 

"That doesn't actually concern you,"

The bed creaks and soon enough, Louis can smell the smoke that Zayn stinks off, and it's so close it's suffocating. 

"Listen here, you little prick. Are you gay? Are you a little faggot?" 

Louis closes the laptop, and stands up. He doesn't even try to tower over Zayn, because he's shorter but he'll defend himself no matter what. He stares Zayn dead in the eye, and exhales.

"Don't call me a "faggot" ever again, look, I don't know who you think you are but you have no right to be calling me those names-,"

"My brother killed himself because of people like you, you do realise?" 

"W-What." 

"He fucking was harassed, and picked on by some guy in his class. It doesn't sound right but for once, the gay was bullying the straight? It's sick right?" 

Zayn's face is too close and Louis tries not to shout when he takes a step back, and his back is pressed against the wall. Zayn's eyes are basically on fire and Louis knows the look of sudden anger, and before he can react, Zayn moves to fast, and it takes at least another 5 seconds to feel the pain. Louis is lifted up by Zayn's hand around his throat, and Zayn's jaw is clenched, and his veins are protruding from his neck. 

"I'm going to fucking kill you, because my brother killed himself, you should have died when you tried," Zayn spits in his eyes

Louis can feel the warmth of his own blood dripping down his hands and can hear it dropping onto the floor. 

"Z-Zayn please, I-,"

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare, Louis," 

"HELP ME!" Louis screams, his voice reaching an octave higher than usual

The only thing about mental asylums is that no matter how loud you scream, you're ignored, because there's so many people screaming at themselves or at walls, that the nurses and guards just ignore it. Louis is thrown onto the floor, hard and fast, his head hitting the concrete. He looks down at his arms, and lets out a giant sob, as he realises the stitches had been ripped apart, and he was bleeding all over himself, on the floor, and there was some on the wall. 

"Zayn, please-I'd never-I'd never hurt your brother, I'm not that guy!" 

Zayn's hands are around Louis' neck, and his eyes are so dark, it's demonic, and Louis is crying and shouting, screaming for some help but it seems like forever until someone does arrive. His arms are aching and the feeling of his skin being torn apart by someone else, makes it so much worse. He cries harder but eventually the feeling of Zayn's hands around his throat disappears. Louis opens his eyes, and cries because he notices Liam pinning a thrashing, screaming, absolutely insane Zayn. 

"NO!" He screams

He's pulled away as he notices Liam pull out the biggest needle he's ever seen in his life. He's being dragged into the hallways, by strong hands and then he's propped up against a wall. He closes his eyes and he can't stop himself from crying harder because now he just wants to die, he doesn't care. He feels fingers prodding at the open cuts, and then searing stinging pain as something cold is dabbed against it. He screams, his voice piercing through the halls.

"Sh-,"

"I want to die, just let me fucking die, please," Louis screams

"I can't let that happen, it wouldn't be fair on Liam, would it," 

The voice. 

Louis freezes up and his entire throat closes up and his eyes snap open and he goes to move, but he's held down again by one hand. He's staring right into wide green eyes, with pupils fully dilated, that have specks of light and dark green throughout, the whites around the eyes are slightly blood shot. His face is close and Louis wants to crawl away, but he can't. It's silent for a moment, and Harry doesn't stare at his face any more, he turns his attention back to the open wounds that are bleeding horribly. 

"I don't know when a nurse will be here so I could-um-stitch you back up, I'm good with that kind of-,"

Louis can't help the reply

"Cause you stitched up your victims after cutting them and letting them bleed out?" 

Harry doesn't respond, and Louis stares at Harry's long, slender fingers, as he starts to prepare himself to start stitching Louis up. He dabs the cold cotton bud against the cut again and Louis screeches.

"I'd rather just fucking die, please," Louis shouts

"no," 

"why?"

"the only people that get to die are with my permission, and if you're in my hands, you will die when I choose to let you die, understand?" 

Louis' mouth opens and he lets out a strangled cry, as his eyes dart around the empty halls. Harry chuckles and Louis is confused because Harry hasn't looked back up at him since the first proper eye contact. He screams out loud as he feels the needle piercing the skin, and Harry digs his spare hand into Louis' thigh.

"If you don't want to focus on the needle pain, focus on the pain that I'm purposely inflicting on you," 

"Stop it,"

"I'm saving your fucking life, you're going to bleed out in a matter of minutes,"

"I don't care, I'm here because I don't care," 

Harry shakes his head, and his dark curls bounce slightly and Louis notices they're slightly damp with sweat and Louis wonders why the fuck Harry was sweating at this time of the night, when it's actually pretty cold. Harry is wearing baggy track suits and a black jumper, and Louis tries to look back down around the hallway. He winces at the pain again.

"will you fucking stop moving?!" Harry shouts

Louis shudders at the thunderous shout, and looks back down at Harry and is met with emerald eyes that are blazing. 

" 'm sorry," 

"Shut up and stay the fuck still," 

"You're supposed to be a sadistic killer, why the fuck are you doing this?"

"Do you think I killed all those people?" 

"You did, I've seen videos of you admitting it,"

"Well, if I didn't admit to it, I'd still be here, so why not just say what pleases the government," 

"I once read that Psychopaths also try to manipulate their way into peoples heads, and sorry. but I know exactly what you are, and you're not getting into my head,"

"Louis, right?" Harry leans away for a moment

and now that's he's at arms distance, Louis can actually see the real beauty of Harry, and he's even more achingly beautiful than the photos lead on. Louis' mouth runs dry but he mentally shakes it off and then sighs. 

"Yeah," 

"I'm not getting into your head?" Harry frowns

"No," 

"I'm already in there, love," 

Louis' eyes almost pop out of his skull but he shouts "no" and repeats himself, before Harry just smirks and then turns his attention back to the cuts.

"HARRY STYLES BACK AWAY FROM THE BOY!" 

Harry automatically jerks away from Louis, standing within a second, hands above his head and he turns to the guards that are walking towards him. Louis had never felt so relieved.

"How the fuck did you get out of your cell?"

"I guess my guard didn't lock it? I heard some commotion and came and checked it out. I found this guy here, and I'm trying to help him before he bleeds to death,"

"Harry, get to your cell right now, we'll talk about this later," One of them shouts

Harry rolls his eyes and then disappears down the hallway with the guard, without looking back. The second guard kneels down next to Louis.

"Shit, what happened here? did you open them?" 

"no-fuck-I got attacked, can you stop the bleeding or will my dream finally become reality?" Louis rolls his eyes

He grunts when he feels the needle start threading through his skin again. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zayn stares at the white ceiling, body numb, and this is what it's like to be paralysed, in a relaxing way. He ignores the blood that's soaking into his shirt, and he finally smiles slightly because his mind is silent, the first time since the shooting. 

"Oi, light me a cigarette please,"

"No, you're staying on that bed until head mistress Landles comes in here, no smokes. I can tell you you'll me in confinement for a while, what the fuck was that for anyway?" 

Zayn slowly turns his head, and meets a pair of brown eyes, he stares at the name tag but it's too blurry.

"It's Liam," The man snorts

"well Liam, I am insane after all," Zayn smirks

"That poor boy didn't do anything to you, that guy isn't really insane, he's just lost himself at the moment. He wouldn't hurt a fly,"

"Well he hurt himself, didn't he?" 

"Different story, you opened his stitches up, you're in a lot of trouble,"

"I don't really care," Zayn laughs

"How old are you anyway?" Liam frowns

"19, how about you? Mr Guard Liam," 

"Nineteen? jesus christ. I'm 24," 

"twenty fucking four, you're getting old,"

Liam doesn't answer, he just stares at the walls. 

"Can you please just fucking light me a cigarette," 

"no," 

"You're a tosser," 

Liam doesn't react, he just stands up when a blonde haired woman walks into the room. She looks infuriated and for the first time in a long time, Zayn feels intimidated and scared.