Killer Cruise

Chapter 22

Your POV:

Who?

I stay with Hannah, Liam and Atlas.

Hannah and Liam are missing.

We agreed to quarantine Lynne in the boys room and there's no way Atlas would leave her unattended while she's  still sick.

Forcing my legs to move, I finally step inside, place my belongings onto the table by the door and grabbing the decorative vase, a makeshift weapon.

Is this the killer? He did say he would wait in the rooms of those who disobeyed him.

As I near the figure on my bed the rotting smell intensifies, so potent that it burns my nostrils and clouds my mind.

"Who?" Taehyungs deep voice drops to a whisper, his hand slinking up along the vase and taking it out of my grasp.

"I don't know," my voice shrinking with each word.

He didn't push further, his features set into place, filling with determination. With a single nod, he strode up to the bed and ripped off the sheets, holding the vase in place, ready to smash it into whoever that lay there.

His entire body froze, looking back at me with a fear-ridden face. Mustering up all my courage I looked at the body on my bed, and I wish I hadn't.

My footsteps grew heavier, the oxygen in my lungs just vanished.

This person was strapped onto my bed with silver duct tape, the white sheets and blankets both holding a patch of dried blood. The duct tape that restrained him had little slits in which dried trails of blood had seeped out.

Meaning he was duct taped then killed here on my bed.

My lunch threatened to spill out.

But his face ...it's Liam.

Tears pricked my eyes, lips quivered as my fingers skimmed over his ice-cold cheek. In his hand lay a neatly folded yellow paper.

I took it out, reading it at once.

Hope you like my present.

Xoxo

Reading the note sent chills down my spine but the heat of anger surged through me.

"Who?" Taehyung asked, more gently this time, lowering the vase onto the bedside table.

"Liam," I croaked out.

He said something in Korean to Jimin and Yoongi, the two nodded and silently left.

"Where are they-" but my words get cut off by a choked cry, a few tears slipping out. Why is it so hard to speak and not cry? 

Turning away, I wipe them off with the back of my hands, focusing on Liam instead.

Is this my fault too that Liam ... how am I going to tell Lynne? Why is this happening to us!

My thoughts grew to loud for me to hear, screaming at me. The stench of murder filled the air, till there was nothing but it.

I lurched forward, falling to my knees as I took hold of the dustbin beside the bed. Chyme lurching up and out, the acidic aftertaste burned and so did my eyes as I held back tears.

I can't cry, people cry at funerals, people cry when someone's gone, I can't cry. No ones gone.

An arm gathers up my hair holding it away from my face another wraps around my frozen form from behind, "Sorry," he softly says, right next to my ear, his arm on my back moving in gentle comforting strokes "you say no touchy-touch,"