One Direction at Forty Thousand Feet

One Direction fanfic.
Ever wondered what would happen if the boys of one direction got their hands on movellas?
Well here is a short fanfiction telling you just that.


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17. Night Terrors

Holly's POV

All this interaction with those five jackasses was giving me a headache, plus their perfume was strong enough to knock someone out. I really needed to get some rest, especially if I was going to have to deal with them later.

"Mina, can you do me a favour? If any of them try anything, can you not wake me up, or try to put them off please."

My request seemed a little strange, even to me, but there was a reason. "Sure, but wouldn't you want to be woken up?" Mina asked, as I tilted the seat back, remembered the perverts on here, then raised it back in case they tried anything.

"If I wake up and catch them, it'll be a laugh for you." I replied sleepily, feeling how heavy my eyelids were. Through the veil of my heavily-mascara-ed eyelashes, I saw her smile, clearly imagining what I'd do to any member of One Dimension stupid enough to try anything.

I promise you, my friends, anything you're imagining isn't half as funny and painful as what I've got planned...

* * *

My eyes slowly opened, as a faint smell of burned flesh reached me. It has to be the nastiest scent ever, but it's instantly recognisable. Confused, I got to my feet, noticing I had been asleep in some sort of theatre seat.

I jumped up, feeling my heartbeat escalate to a very high level. What the...Where am I? More importantly, what the hell is giving off the smell of burning flesh?

This was creepy as hell. I was pretty much surrounded by the dead. In a horror film, it's awesome, but in this case, it's freaking scary. Especially as I'd just seen what was giving off the smell of burning flesh.

Her charred remains were just above me, so I had to get closer to the stage in order to see. Someone, and whoever it was had serious psychopathy issues, had clearly burnt this girl alive.

I clambered up onto the stage, barking my shin a good one on the edge, as I went over to inspect her body. Her clothes were nothing more than bits of torn and charred fabric, and her skin was completely gone. Poor thing must have suffocated on her own burning body.

All this did seem strangely familiar though, sorta like deja vu. The burned-out corpse, the skeletons, the whole surroundings...everything seemed like I'd been here before, but I hadn't truly. Like I was remembering a dream I had, or a story someone had told me.

Meh, I can figure it out later. I've got investigating to do, to see where the fuck I was. Getting to my feet, I took a quick glance back down at where I'd been sitting, then turned to go...until I saw the book.

It was adorned with two skeletons, one male, one female, and was lying open on a bookmarked page. Except...something was wrong. The bookmark had a huge rip, and underneath it, there was some sort of a cavity. It certainly looked deep, and maybe big enough to hold several people.

This was very like a bad case of deja vu. I know I'd seen this place somewhere before, and I know I've been here! I just know it! I don't remember when, or how, but I was.

It all came to me at the sound of a gunshot.

It wasn't aimed at me, but I knew exactly where it was coming from, and who it was aimed at. Turning and bolting, making sure to leap over the corpse of the burned one, I slipped in through a gap at the side of the stage, and into the dusky recesses of backstage.

It was almost pitch black back here, but I had to find the backstage door. Judging by the second gunshot that rang out dangerously close to where I was, I was getting nearer. Shattered glass crunched underfoot, and thick smoke from black powder being burned filled the air. If it weren't for those gunshots acting as homing signals, I never would have closed my hands over that bar, and pushed open the back exit.

I wish I hadn't. Way to walk right into a firefight, Holly.

As I'd recognised where I'd walked into, it would be the logical thing to look before I threw myself into a firefight between Movellians and Directioners. Way to freaking go, especially as I wrote out the scene, for Codename: Fanfics! Jesus, Holly, you're slipping.

Something brushed up against my side as I crept out behind the swarm of Directioners making their way down towards the North part of the arena, but one slap and it went away. From what I remember, after the next crash of glass breaking, there was gonna be a scream, and then...something. Something big. Very, very big.

Ducking behind a pillar, the crash and tinkle of breaking glass came echoing out loud and clear, before the sound of the advance. Curious, I crept out from behind the pillar, slapping away the feeling of something gripping my thigh. What was doing that? Whatever it was had better quit, for its own good. Especially now that I'd heard the scream.

Though I remember it being fake, it sure sounded real. Like a mixture of fear and terrible pain. Whoever screamed must be a really good actor or actress, as I genuinely thought that was real.

I was out in the open now, following the Directioners down the corridor. If just one of them turned and spotted me, I'd be dead, but I didn't care. This was way too much fun.

Fun it may be, but it was also confusing. Out of nothingness, two pings rang out, quiet but deafening. Like someone had flipped two coins in the air. Eh, what was that abou-

I should have remembered. The explosion rang out loud and clear, shooting out waves of shock, sound, then dust. I was too far from shelter to hide properly, so I simply got to my knees, and put my hands over my head and neck, protecting them. Waves of sound hit me, until they stopped, only to be replaced with a dull ringing in my own head.

I thought it was over, so I mistakenly lifted my head up, letting the fragments of dust and flakes of concrete fall off me. I thought I was safe. I thought I'd survived.

How could I have been stupid enough to leave myself open to the second explosion?

It was just as bad, but as the structure was already weakened, making it feel worse. Rock fragments crashed down, the shockwave knocked me back, and the ringing in my ears got worse. Shaking, I tried to protect myself, but it was no use, as another wave of dust came towards me at full speed-

The stone I was lying on was exceptionally cold, and felt weird as I got to my feet. Everything felt a little weird, but that was probably just me. Unless I'm beating the crap out of someone who deserves it, everything feels weird.

I got to my feet, trying to take in what was going on. Why the Hell am I...wherever this is? Actually scratch my first question, where the Hell is this?

It looks like some sort of street, but where? And in what era? And how did I get here. The last thing I remember was a wave of dust and rock fragments from two high-powered explosions. How did I get...wherever this is?

There was a sudden movement to my left, catching my attention. Turning my head, I got a quick glance at the figure dashing right at me...before they went straight through me.

The fuck? Someone ran through me? Either I'm dreaming, or...

I looked down at myself, taking a good look at my hands, a gasp was trapped in my throat; what the hell? I...I can see through myself? I'm like a freaking ghost! Wait...does that mean...

Was I...was I dead or something? Because if I am, I'm so going Paranormal Activity on that pervert, Zayn! Hey, if anyone deserves to be dragged out of bed and down a flight of stairs by their ankle, it's him. Hopefully so he smacks his head on every step on the way down.

Now was not the time to be thinking of that though. The military-edge part of me, subconsciously burned in by countless childhood dares and tests to see how much pain we could handle, was kicking in, telling me to fucking move, you can't let her get away!

The streets were like a labyrinth, as I chased after her. She was a fast runner though, and good at sharp turns. At least the bloodstains made her distinctive, so there was no losing her. Something told me I had to speak to her, even if I was a ghost, and not much use. Turning sharply to run down a narrow alleyway, my shoulder passed straight through the stone corner, as I bolted after her.

Maybe being a spirit isn't that bad after all. I thought I didn't have to worry about running into anything, or being barricaded in. I thought I was completely invincible...until someone tripped me.

An old feeling, smacking the ground. Quickly, I flipped myself over onto my back, ready to get a look at the son of a bitch who tripped me. Though...it did worry me. What can trip a ghost?

"Nice try." A voice hissed from an alcove, chilling me to the bone. I recognised that voice...and I wish I didn't. Slowly, a shadowy figure came from the alcove, looking at me the exact way a wolf looks at a newborn lamb.

Oh not him! Why, God? Why, out of millions of the dead, did you have to make me run into the ghost of Bieber? Why couldn't I run into some other ghost? The ghost of Lizzie Borden, for example. I'd rather take my chances with her than Bieber.

"Oh Jesus." I whispered to myself, as I saw something else was very wrong. Very, very wrong. He...he should not be alive. Not from...that. Those wounds...they...I remember describing the details of how he got those wounds. I even took the string off my own cello to test it on my wrist, just to make sure it would work.

He...oh Jesus Christ I'm stuck on a balcony with the Original Psycho and the spirit of her latest deliberate victim. She can't see me, he can, and I bet I'm screwed.

" 'Oh Jesus' indeed. I see you've met my killer." Bieber hissed, with a breathy touch to his voice from the hole in his throat. A nasal twist crossed that aggravating voice of his, from what looked like a broken and severely bruised nose. Now that was fun, describing it. If only I could do it for real, as I have several more reasons to add to my list of 'Reasons to punch Bieber in the face'. These days, if I gave him a punch for each of those reasons, not only would I break his face in half, I'd give myself Repetitive Strain Injury.

"Fuck you." I spat, provoking him to fly at me. Ha, come at me, prick! That's all I gotta say! Especially as I gripped his shoulders and grappled with him, forcing him to the floor, kneeling hard on his chest.

"If you want to fuck me, go right ahe-"

I wish I'd recorded those famous last words. They were the kind that clued in how they died. Shooting him a look that has been known to reduce grown men to their knees, I knew I had to go for the heart. I've seen enough zombie flicks to know that the heart is what keeps the dead going, and as ghosts are also dead...well, that heart has got to go.

A hard punch knocked that twat out, so I could get to work. I only had my bare hands and teeth, so this was gonna be hard. At least he was solid beneath me, making my job easy.

As he felt like a normal human, he would die like one. A hard, straight-nailed punch to the chest, and a mass of silver gas came from his chest. Huh, who knew ghosts bled silver. Awesomeness.

I had to dig my fingernails hard into his chest before I could feel the ribs. Looks like we do have a skeleton after all. Ignoring his unconscious whimpers of pain, I slowly ripped open the flesh, hoping to expose his heart. One rip, and it would be gone, once this ribcage has been taken out.

Even in this messed-up world, no human can punch through a ribcage. I suppose it's the same for the world of the ghostly. That means...oh yeah, I'm good!

Placing my hands on his chest, I began forcing my weight down. The greatest thing about the ribcage, is that it's the only structure that can be compressed. Awesome for CPR, and even better for crushing what's beneath it. One too-strong compression, and you destroy the heart. It's one of the easiest mistakes to make in First Aid.

Plus in assassinations. Bending my elbows, I got a good look at that scumbag's face, before forcing my arms straight, and crushing the heart. Blood and muscle tissue leaked through the ribs, as a final gasp escaped his lips. You lose, Bieber! Yet again, you lo-

The sudden burst of sunlight was a shock to my eyes, as the spirit of Bieber vanished in my hands. What the...how did I get from snow-covered alleyways, to the Sunshine Capital Of The World?

Blinking, I saw that wasn't sunlight hitting me. That was a freaking fire! Who's bright idea was it to stick me in a burning building? Whoever you are, I'm gonna fucking kill you!

That is, if the fire doesn't kill me first. Dropping to the floor to get out of the smoke, I went straight for the staircase. I may have just time-warped or whatever, and judging by the dust that stuck to my knees, rematerialised, but that still doesn't mean I have an excuse to stay in a fire.

There was a loud bang from behind me, and I forgot all about staying out of the smoke. Scrambling to my feet, I turned right in the direction of the noise, and saw him. What's-A-Brush?. Glaring first at me, then at the staircase right between us, we were back in our individual childhood staring contests, though with well-experienced rivals, and higher stakes. First to blink dies.

He blinked first, but bolted for the stairs. Oh you stupid son of a bitch, you really made a bad decision. Resisting the burns, I took hold of the nearest burning beam, and threw it in hs path, down the wooden, flimsy staircase.

It ignited. Sparks crackled, blocking his way. Smiling my cat-like smile, I turned and headed north, to the ladder. The appearance of Every Cougar's Dream had clued me in to where I was, and when. Now all I had to do was deal with him.

The ladder of the Bell Tower was rusted and rickety, but I could still make my way up it. I'd written it so the captive he had downstairs would get out alive...but there was no harm in giving her a little help.

The Bell Tower was absolutely filthy, covered in dust and, eww, please tell me that's not a dead bird. At least the open windows gave me a good viewpoint, and access to the very rooftops and the spire on top.

Judging by the loud clangs on the ladder below, Styles had clearly gotten the same idea as me, and followed me up to the tower. Ha, this is gonna be entertaining.

I headed for the nearest window, grateful for the huge size, and slipped out into the chill of the night air. The ledge was very narrow, but it gave me a good hiding place. Edging until I felt the stone at my back, I waited, until I heard the gasp of Styles trying to get air.

That's the problem with fire - it can follow you everywhere indoors. Locking my fingers over the stone, I took a deep breath, and swung myself back into the building, aiming myself right at him with a straight-kneed kick to his side.

"Bet you didn't expect to see me here, motherfucker!" I snarled, taking a fistful of his curls and pulling them hard. Enraging him, I earned myself a hard kick to my stomach, as he tried to force me off him. Reluctantly, I got off him, coming up with an idea. As I was so focussed on getting off the island in the original novel, I hadn't noticed the rain. When I was on the ledge, I definitely noticed it, and it gave me a good idea. After all, you usually find two things with that sort of rain, and one of them is very useful.

"Hey, asshole! Come get me!" I spat, heading out onto the ledge again. Just in reach was another ledge, where the copper roof of the Bell Tower is connected to the stone. Lucky I've got tiny hands, as that ledge was only about an inch wide. Just wide enough for me to pull myself up, and grab at the roof. He wouldn't dare follow me up here, as only an idiot would follow someone onto a curved metal roof in the pouring rain.

Looks like I'm dealing with an idiot then, as one of Curls' hands appeared on the ledge behind me. Scrabbling, I backed away up higher onto the roof, as he scaled up after me. "You were saying, you little bitch." He snarled, trying to go after me. Ha, try again! And next time you call me a bitch, I'm gonna kick your teeth in!

The copper spire was cold to the touch, as I gripped it to pull myself to my feet. Tightening my grip, I used it to swing myself to give him a hard kick to the jaw. Fiercely, I landed, slipping slightly. Letting go, I slid down a little, as a bleeding Styles gripped it and pulled himself to his feet with one hand. Still holding it, he looked down at me like I was nothing. Ha, think again. 

Especially now. If that glow in the clouds is anything to go by, I know exactly what's happening next.

"Hey Styles, how good were you at Geography in school? Here's a little quiz question for you. What happens to a hyper-strengthed, arrogant son-of-a-bitch when it gets hit by lightening?" I asked, getting to my feet. The rain had made it extremely hard to balance, but I could get lucky. After all, I'd written in some trees down below.

"Same thing as everyone else. Adios, motherfucker!"

I must have let myself drop at just the right moment, as the unpleasant smell of burning flesh reached my nose, along with the bolt of lightening the hit the spire. That is why you never hold onto anything extremely high up that's made of copper.

* * *

I snapped awake, grateful for human nature waking me up. That has to have been the most awesome dream ever! Messed up, but awesome! It was like I was a freaking Dimensional Shunter! Or a character in my own novels! That was definitely a dream I'd like to remember forev-eh?

I'd kept my eyes shut when I woke, but the sensation of awake-ness had come to me. The others must still think I was asleep. Clearly one of the One Direction boys had taken that as the chance to see what I had, as I felt their hand creep coldly under my top.

I bet that's Zayn doing that. Without opening my eyes, I simply gave his hand a slap, causing it to retreat very sharply from under my top. Ha, the perks of dreaming. If you move, people just think you're having a violent dream. The downside is, twats like Flammable take advantage of you.

I was hoping he'd got the message, but clearly I was mistaken. You know that feeling when you feel someone is near to you, but you can't see or hear them? Yeah, that was kicking in like crazy, combined with his hot breath tickling my face as he leaned over me.

That was bad enough, but the touch of his lips on mine snapped me into overdrive. How dare he! Snapping my eyes open, my fist impacted his face in an extremely painful whack, causing him to stagger backwards, and smack down onto the floor, ready for me to deliver an extremely satisfying kick to his crotch, and hear him moan in pain.

"Woken by a kiss. Guess Sleeping Beauty really is real." He whimpered, practically begging for the second nosebleed I gave him.

I knew I made the right decision by asking Mina not to wake me if they tried anything. It left some satisfying results.

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