Chasing Madmen

'Come and get me, Mr. Muggle Auror!'

The policeman gritted his teeth. He hated running after lunatics. It was moments like these he wished he had followed his childhood dream and become a jellyfish instead. If he was a jellyfish, he wouldn't be here right now, and here was exactly where he didn't want to be.

He remembered getting the call. The voice on the other end sounded terrified, but what had really chilled him was the voice of the person standing behind the caller, telling her exactly what to say, like she was a puppet who danced to his strings.

'Tell them I've got a hostage, and I'll be only too happy to kill her, slit her pretty little throat. In fact, I might do it anyway, even if I do get what I want. I would be fun, I think.' the madman had said.

The poor girl on the phone had been instructed to call him specifically, and he couldn't help but feel like another victim, another pawn in the madman's scheme. He knew. The crazy bastard knew it was his number, knew he was a policeman, knew he would feel obliged to track down a criminal, even a mad one.

'Boo!' the madman hissed in his ear.

He yelped in shock and whirled around. The madman had snuck up behind him. He could see the madman's face now, from the shining teal eyes glimmering with excitement to the quivering lips that soon split into a maniacal grin.

'Hi.' the madman said simply, grabbing and shaking his hand as if this was a perfectly normal situation. 'I'm Evan.'

Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself. Be gentle, don't frighten him. Get him to come willingly.

'Hello.' he said carefully, but as soon he started speaking, Evan dropped his hand and bolted into the nearby forest.

'Come on, let's play a game!' Evan crowed exultantly.

Oh god, he thought, this is definitely not going my way.

But he couldn't stop now. He'd never been able to resist a challenge and the madman had just issued one.

Right then, he thought with grim determination. Let's play.

He sprinted through the trees, the madman's laughter echoing around him, taunting him.

'Bet your life that you can't catch me!' Evan snickered.

'You're wrong!' he shouted back.

'Maybe, maybe not...'

He spun, disorientated. There were too many trees, he couldn't see too far ahead, or behind, or sideways, or any way at all.

'Surprise!' Evan leapt down in front of him, patted his head as if he was a god, and disappeared into the trees again.

He now had no doubt (if there ever was doubt at all) that he was a pawn in Evan's twisted game, a game that had no rules except to keep running.

Evan was the personification of destructive chaos, a whirlwind, consuming everything around him and spitting it out when he grew bored with it.

'I didn't kill her, you know. I kissed her, but she tasted bad so I spat on her instead. You lot really are filthy.' the madman taunted.

He focused on the madman's voice, and tried to follow it.

'I might kill you, though. I don't really know yet, I suppose I didn't think this through properly, otherwise you'd probably be face down in a puddle right now. Actually, that's not a bad idea. Maybe I should do that. What do you think, Mr. Muggle Auror?'

'Please stop.' he pleaded, feeling like a toy that had been abused and broken.

The only reply he got was the rustle of leaves above him and Evan's mad laughter.

He forced himself to keep running; he was determined to catch Evan, to beat him at his own game (even though he didn't actually know what game it was).

He could hear the crunch of dead leaves. He ran faster, catching a glimpse of blond hair. He reached out a hand... then yelped as his face met the ground. He felt a hand grip his hair and forcibly turned his head. He saw Evan crouched beside him, twirling a stick between his fingers.

'Hello, Mr. Muggle Auror.' Evan smiled at him. 'I caught you! Wasn't that fun? Maybe you should run faster next time.'

But I was chasing you... he thought sluggishly, thoroughly confused. His head was pounding, and his whole body ached from the rough fall. He still had no idea how that had happened, he hadn't tripped, hadn't overbalanced, hadn't done anything wrong, but here he was, on the ground.

'You know, you should appreciate all the trouble I went through to organise this game for you.' the madman said, staring him straight in the eyes. 'And I don't even know your name.'

'Why?' he asked. 'Why did you do that? What was the point?'

'Look, you got me all scratched up.' Evan pointed to the small cuts on his arms. 'But you know what? It was worth it. It was all worth it.'

The madman pulled a box out of his pocket, the box he'd stolen.

It was a box of charcoal pencils.

'Why?' he moaned, feeling completely useless.

'Why not?' Evan smirked at him. 'It's been fun. Maybe you should stop by sometime, and I'll draw you a picture. And rip your head from your body and hand it on the wall.'

Evan skipped away, whistling merrily.

He hated chasing madmen.