CHAPTER ELEVEN - UNFORGIVABLE

                                    

                                          
Whoever said university is supposed to be the best time of your life lied. 
The past two weeks have been hectic — with raging assignments, daunting projects and mini tests everyday. It felt more like a challenge of mental health rather than knowledge.
She couldn't see Harry that much apart from the daily texts and calls, along with the gifts he sends to her. It felt too good to be true.
Lennon would spend most days in her dorm, buried in books and memorising all the information, stay awake till very late and sometimes indulge in her little café days where she would study in a cosy atmosphere and relish the sweet aromas of warm hot chocolate that was a bit too exorbitant for her liking. 
It was late at night. 
She was strolling on the sidewalk, hands tucked in the pockets of her buff jacket providing a layer of warmth and comfort in the midst of an icy night, her messenger bag loosely hanging from her shoulder as she stared ahead, scrunching her nose. Bloody hell, it's July, it shouldn't be that cold. Bless England and its inflexible weather.
After taking a few more steps, she came to a halt when she heard a high-pitched scream. She stiffened, letting out a shaky breath. Taking slow strides forwards, she approached the source of the chaos, coming to peer carefully into the dark gap between two large buildings. A dark alleyway with monsters lurking around.
The alley was dark and cramped, filled with garbage bins and overflowing waste. It reeked of foul odour coming from the rotting bins, and the only light source was a dim streetlamp on the other side of the street, casting shadows on the wall. 
From the opening, Lennon could faintly make the sound of a muffled struggle.
"P–Please, G–G—Green," a man pleaded like his life was defended on it. Lennon caught a glimpse of a domineering presence, dressed in all black, wearing a large purge mask to cover his face. Lennon wondered why he was called 'Green' but once she saw his front view, she understood why. The mask had a creepy smile stretching up to the cheeks, X's stitched eyes and the expression was warning in bright green neon light. 
'Green' didn't say anything, rather, he communicated with violence. He landed a couple more punches to the weak man's face who only wailed, blood oozed from his nose, dripping down his lips. Lennon's heart plummeted, observing his body language. He was so composed and collected as if he was merely doing an everyday task, like this was completely normal. He was most likely bored since he decided to speed it up by using his Glock 17. The man's eyes widened in despair and fear but before he could utter anything, a deafening shot cracked the still night. 
Lennon was cemented to the ground. 
Never in her twenty-one years of living has she ever seen a gun. Or anything that could be utilised as a weapon. Well, she didn't just see one, she saw one being used.
She should get the hell out of there.
She peeked her out and rested it against the surface, shutting her eyes tight and composing her racing nerves.
Just then a gloved hand was wrapped around her throat, yanking her away from the wall and dragging her away into the alleyway. She couldn't react properly, especially not when she was thrown against a brick wall. That dangerous expression met her gaze, his free hand rested on her lower back. Lennon was quivering in his rough touch, her lips parted as she weakly looked into his eyes. 
He withdrew his hand away from her neck, moving it down to steely wrap around his lower torso to grab his gun again. Lennon's throat went dry and her mind blank. He used that gun to tilt her chin, taking in her scared demeanour. It was somewhat...pleasing for him, Lennon thought.