I wrote this a while ago and decided to post it. It's kind of a dark litle ficlet. I might develop it into a story, but probably not. If anyone wanted to, I might let them adopt this.
Not really any warnings. Very repetitive. Drilling ideas if you will. It's a next generation wartime drabble. Changes in POV a few times. See if you can identify the unnamed char.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think.
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The Innocents.
Innocence dies. Will you be the one to kill it, or will it be ripped from your soul?
Innocence, Purity, Clean, Open-minded, Loving. All describe children. Children who know nothing of the evils of the world. Of course there are some children who know otherwise, but for the most part, children are described as innocent. However, some of the evils of the world spare no one. Poverty, plague, death. Any of these things could strike at any moment, and not care who the victim is.
But sometimes, there are evil people in the world. Evil beyond hope. These evil people look for the weakest creatures in their paths. They look for the ones that are innocent. These evil people will torture the fresh minds, corrupt the innocent. Terrible people search for just these links in the chain. The links that would prove most useful to their cause. The ones that will become their followers. These evil, moral-less people search out the children.
When someone as cruel and empty as the Dark Lord wants something, he will stop at nothing to get it. At the moment, said power wants an extermination. He wants to rid the world of all that will not be of use to him. He takes the strong and weak alike, as long as there is no hope on his side. He will kill them all. What's worse than not caring, is that he takes the innocents. He takes them and corrupts them. He dirties their clean minds, shows them what power can do. If evil is not their choice, he'll chose it for them. If they refuse, they die. The children have no hope. No choice. No future. This one evil is the plague of now. Maybe some will rise against him, but for now, all opponents are being wiped out.
OoOoOoO
Watch young ones. Watch as he takes a man. This man he had tried to kill. This man that was famous for living. Well, watch now as he gets his revenge. Some diseases take time to kill. Sometimes you have to be infected twice. The second time is really the charm. Innocents, let your mind turn dark, let your vision turn red. Watch as his blood falls. See him twist and squirm in pain. Listen to the scream. That sound will remain with you forever. That sound, this sight, it's torn a piece from the white cloth that has surrounded your soul. Let your pure hearts bleed out the astonishment and disgust. Let the new, blackened, dirtied, poisoned blood take it's place and course through your veins.
See as he grows pale? This is power. Who would stand up to power, but the foolish? Do you want to be led by foolish? Innocent he may have seemed, but this scarred man was nothing but a boy. A boy trying to live as a man. He tried to love. So young and ignorant inside. No, he lived as a man. He was not clean. He was stained by age one. He had been touched by evil. Just as you innocents are, only he remained weak. He tried to fool himself. He tried to stay young, although he could not. That was his mistake. So as you see now, power is the only worthy being. Power and Power alone. Your innocent eyes have been opened. The sheets around your soul torn away. You see the truth now. He tried to see the love in all, but there is no love. No time for love. There is no time for love. Do you want to remain foolish? Try to look for what is not there? Waste your foolish lives, searching?
No. The foolish die. Join the Power. The 'evil' as you may think of it. But either way, there are two sides. Not right and wrong, but powerful and weak. You were weak. Now you have the strength, you know it. You've seen what strength is. You've seen what you can do. Just join the side that is in front of you. You have the choice. You must decide, Power, or death at the hands of it.
oOoOoOo
I didn't know what we were doing here. They came and took us. There was no riot. It just came and went, I wonder if they even know we're gone? We were outside. A nice day at Hogwarts. Fall, but not cold yet. A few people were here and there. Masked men appeared. Before there was time to blink, we were gone. They didn't try to tie us up, they didn't hurt us, they just grabbed us and apparated away. And now we're here. Maybe twenty of us? All first years. Mostly Ravenclaws, a few Slytherins. It's unspoken and we know who these men are. They are evil. His men. But why did they take us? Why us?
No Gyrffindors. They're against the dark side. Hufflepuffs would be shaking in their knickers by now. But what do they want with us? Those of us like myself that are Slytherin and not on His side, I'm sure they want to convert us. I know this is wrong though. I'm sure the other few know as well. They won't change us. We're strong. The Ravenclaws though, they'll be easier to crack. Yes, that must be why we're here. They want to crack us. Kill as few as possible of the new generation. Gain more followers. But how?
A masked man in black stands before our semicircle. A masked man behind each child, preventing escape, although none are trying. Maybe we want to be here. Maybe we are curious and they knew it before we did. Maybe they think we will join them, but I don't think it will happen that easily. This masked man's voice is young. He is tall, strong. His voice holds superiority and haughtiness. You can tell he's looked up to in this league of dark men.
This man steps aside and we see what he sees. This must be why he is strong. This must be why he is so mighty. He is strong and doesn't blink as we watch. We watch in some fascinated horror as an old corpse of a man holds the one and only Harry Potter. He holds him, bound in chains and gags. Bleeding and gashed, bruised and paling. He bites through even the gags and screams. A tortured, weakened, last desperate yell. Is this our hero? Is this what we've looked for? He's gone missing for two days, and this is what happens? How can that be? This... hero, is no man. This hero, is my father, and he is not a man. He is pathetic. He led me to believe that this man before him was a monster, but it's the other way around. What's more fake and evil than lying to not only the world, but yourself? You can't make the world think you're something you're not. You can't be a hero when you're weak. You can't be right and innocent. Innocence is weakness. It's not a wonder he and my mother didn't want me to know. Its not a wonder that the first Weasley in the entire line to be sorted Slytherin would scare them. It's not a wonder they kept me sheltered and hidden. Slytherin means power. They knew I'd find out. But who knew that I'd be the one to watch him die? My own father die, at the hands of Power. Well, I won't make that mistake. I won't let them take me. I am strong. Innocence is not bliss, it's weakness. Weakness can be taken by those who try. Those who know what they want. And we know. I know. Power.
The masked man is telling us that this is what happens. This is what we will become. Sick and tortured, begging for death. You know what? He's right. I never though I would say that. It didn't make sense. But now, I see that we were wrong. We were innocent. But something in seeing our savior struggle split us apart inside. We were going to lose. Why should we bother trying to hide forever? This is what it will come to, isn't it? We're kneeling in the blood of the ignorant, the foolish. Why should our blood mix with his? This may be the blood that pumps within me, but it is not my blood. We are the new generation. We are the fighters, the strong. This man is right. We were weak. Our parents were weak. We should rule out the weak. They will only take our time. Break our chain. The chain of wizards. We've got to get rid of them. I'm willing to help. We all are. I can see the look in the others' eyes. No one is scared. No one is disgusted, passed out, pale, weak. No one is weak. They were right. They picked the winners. They stole away our innocence, but you know what? The innocent die. Innocence is weakness. We aren't weak. We are strong. We'll help them. The dark master is that, a master, a Lord. He is doing us good, exterminating the weak, the innocent. The innocent never remain innocent. They're corrupted, lost, changed. The innocent always die.
Look at my father.
--
I picture the kid talking at the end as a little girl with bright red curls and bright green eyes. I watch her eyes change from wide and innocent to glaring, determined and evil as she watches the horror before her. I'd guess about twelve-ish.
What did you see? Did you like it? How'd you picture this?
If anyone is interrested in making a story with this, let me know and perhaps we'll talk. You can make the kid a boy if you want. Any age, looks, I don't care, I just pictured it one way in my head. Any ideas are welcome.
Till next time,
-J X