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Louis sighs, pushing his sweet matted hair out of his eyesight. His palms are clammy and part of him is desperately telling him to turn back, it’s not his place nor his job. However, he’s here and he’s in too deep. Though he feels like he’s drowning, he keeps moving…step after step. Louis' eyes appear a murky gray as they dart through the hallway. Louis is a Behavioral analyst for god's sake, he isn’t meant to be holding a Glock 22, his arms outstretched. That is Harry’s job. Harry, Zayn, and Liam AKA the big guys. Well, it technically wasn’t their “job-job,” but when Harry needed backup, he knew who to call. Louis frowned, his lips pressing into a thin line as he surveyed the area. A sudden scream and he tensed again. Quickly, Louis slipped into a room. It looked like a morgue. It FELT like a morgue. The only place to hide was behind a cabinet squished up against a corner wall. Louis glanced around the room before ambling behind the cabinet just in time. A figure, grotesque and painted in blood, came stumbling into the room. Despite Louis’ clammy palms, the room was rather cold. The figure was a tall man. Louis could only pray that the team would come.