Beginnings
The man slowly hobbled across the Palace Square in St. Petersburg. A tall tower, not unlike a minaret stood close to the center, an angel watching over all below. The man's weakness was feigned, and his eyes smoothly scanned everything around him as he walked towards a bench outside the square. His name was not important, but his job was. He was an undercover agent that had infiltrated the nearly impenetrable network of the мафия, the Russian mafia. And not only the mafia, but he was in the elite circle, close to the don. But the don had not become the don because he was stupid, and he had found out about the intruder. And he had made plans that were to come to head in the next 5 minutes.
The boy, just turned 18, followed the hobbling man, keeping to the shadows. His grandfather was very ill, and unless he accomplished this job and attained the funds promised for it, his grandfather was as good as dead. He had been raised by his grandparents since his parents had died when he was but a baby. His grandmother had died last year, and he was determined not to feel that pain again, the pain that felt like one's heart was being ripped to shreds. The hobbling man sat down on the bench and glanced at his watch. Now was his chance. He didn't want to do the job, but it was either this old man or another old man, and he preferred the old man who was his grandfather.
"Is your name Viktor?" asked the boy after ambling up to the man.
"Da" replied the old man.
"Arrestum cerebrum" said the boy, a wand in his left hand.
The old mans eyes were filled with questioning as to what the boy said, but then they were filled with a mad animalistic fear as his breath would not come or go. He could not make a sound. He could not do anything. He was dead within 3 minutes since his brain did not have enough oxygen. The boy walked 100 meters away, and while he was walking, he released the spell. The old man, although dead, yelled. This was the only problem with the spell the boy had invented, just as he had done so many others. The spell stopped all the brains messages from being transmitted until released, but after the spell was released all the actions prior to death were animated since the messages were allowed to go. The boy walked down an alley with no one around and bent over, hands on his knees.
"I will not throw up, I will not throw up, I will not throw up" repeated the boy, until he had gotten control of himself.
He had heard about this reaction to killing someone, and it was very unpleasant. Once he had regained his mental facilities, he muttered "occaecare" and walked away, unseen by anybody.
He arrived at the house of the mob boss, and was let in. The mob boss said he would see him after his next appointment. After waiting ten minutes outside the study where the meeting was taking place, he heard a cough and a thump. The mob boss came outside, pushing the double doors out of the way so that they swung. He noticed the boy and gestured him inside, while calling for his bodyguard.
"Ivan," said the don, "could you escort our friend out?"
The bodyguard went inside and dragged out the body of the person who was meeting with the don before. The boy understood at once that the cough had been the sound of a silenced pistol. He wasn't surprised; this was the way business was done in Russia. The mob boss turned to him.
"You want the payment, da?"
"Da" replied the boy.
"Here it is"
"But this is only half"
"The other half I need to clear up the mess that just occurred, besides, this is your first time, I can pay you whatever I want."
"But you promised-"
"Do you think I kept my promises and became don?"
"You are a cheap bastard, yeb vas! That money is for my grandfathers operation; if he doesn't get it he will die!"
The don flipped open his cell phone, spoke rapidly, and shut it.
"You need not worry yourself about the operation"
"Really? I am so sorry I got mad, it is just that I am having a hard time"
"I understand my dear boy, now go home"
The boy went home, elated. He arrived home and opened the door. He cheerfully walked to the kitchen, where he knew his grandfather would be, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and another cup ready and waiting for him. His grandfather was there. The coffee was spilt on the ground, one of the three cups they owned broken in pieces on the floor. His grandfather was in his chair, eyes open, with a bullet hole between his eyes. Blood slowly dripped out of it, running in a little red stream past the two groups of white birches that were his grandfather's eyebrows, down the road and off the cliff of his grandfather's nose. The boy did not cry. He did not move for a minute. Then he went to the bedroom that he shared with his grandfather, past the bed that would never be slept on again by his grandfather, his grandmother, or him. He put on the most durable clothes he could find, ones that would last him for a long time. He then turned and ran out of the house sprinting as fast as he could. He ran so hard his legs felt that they were moving by themselves, he was sweating even though as he ran, he ran on snow. He arrived at the house of the don 16 minutes later. It was a mansion, with many windows and pillars that held up an awning above the front door. The awning was carved with intricate patterns, in the style of old Russia. The boy pulled out his wand as he walked up the 7 steps that led to the door.
"CONFLARE!" and the door blew inwards with a deafening report.
The don burst out of his meeting room in a rage to find out who dared to disturb his meeting.
"Ahhhh, Igor Karkaroff, what pure loathing and anger I see in your eyes. Such a young life, such a waste. Guards, kill him."
The guards brought up their Heckler & Koch MP5s to gunning level. As they pulled the trigger, Igor muttered "excaecare". The bullet in every gun was hit by a striking hammer, as it was supposed to be. The gunpowder casing around the bullet exploded sending the bullet flying towards the end of the barrel, straight for Igor. Then it was stopped at the front of the barrel by some invisible force and it exploded. The explosion at the front of each gun reached the ammunition chamber, which also exploded, killing each guard holding a gun. Igor then looked at the don, and said "interstringere acies". The don's eyeballs imploded, the juices flowing down his scarred face. "Scalpium," and the dons hair was torn from his head with such force that his scalp bled profusely. "Conflare," said the boy, and instead of a door exploding, the mans eardrums exploded, fire jettisoning out. "Corbita toxicum," said Igor, and he watched as poison coursed throughout the whole body of the don, poison that would take over 7 hours to finish its job.
Only after he had finished this did the boy think about what to do next. Igor decided that he would travel across the land, and go to the only place where he was as happy as he was with his grandparents. Igor Karkaroff decided to return to Durmstrang.
