The Rampage
Chapter 1: Scars of War
"Fire!" said the commander, and Julius Kaiser fired his gun at the Union army. He ducked for cover, waiting for his next chance to shoot. He scratched his blonde hair.
The Union army kept the attack in check, firing back and charging. Julius fired once more–this time at the Union commander–sending the man to the ground.
"Good shooting!" called the Confederate commander. Julius reloaded his gun with ten shots; he had placed a charm on it so he had more shots than everyone else.
"Julie!" a man next to the tall fourteen year old boy called. Julius hated the nickname, but it was no time to elaborate. The young man stared at his bloody comrade, seeing the pain war caused. The ground was no longer green; it was red. "Save me..." the man said, his chest covered in blood. Julius looked down at his waist. His wand. It was hidden, but he knew it was there. And he could save the man. But would it be worth putting himself in danger? He thought quickly. Magic could not bring the dead back to life; it was something the boy knew and was now seeing.
"I can't," he said. "But you will be avenged..."
Julius shrugged it off. Once more, the first battle was coming to him. That had been two years ago. The Civil War was over now. Long gone to some. It was 1865, in a small California town. He was eating his dinner with his family. It wasn't the best chicken he had ever tasted, but it certainly wasn't that bad. His parents had trained him in magic; he had never gone to a magic school. And it wasn't like his parents were bad. They just never talked about the past.
"This is good," his younger brother, Frederick, his only sibling, said. Julius's mother looked at him.
"It is," he said. Julius's father stared at him again. "What?"
"Oh, nothing," he said. Julius blinked for a few seconds, taking in everything that was around him. His father was a very pleasant man, though Julius was sure he held a secret.
There was a long silence at the dinner table. His father took a large bite out of his chicken, while Frederick cleaned his water with a water-cleaning charm their mother had taught them. Julius ate just a little more; he was still as skinny as he could be.
"Julie, can I have your chicken?" Frederick asked. He nodded. It was not unusual for Julius to speak little at dinner; he had become much more quiet since the Civil War had passed.
"Men, we're low on ammunition. You must save your fire," the commander said.
Julius tried to shake it off. He hated flashbacks.
The Confederate flag was torn. Julius gritted his teeth and led the charge, brave for his age.
Men fell around him. Julius took aim and fired, hitting the Union drummer boy. To die so young...he didn't want to think about it.
"Mother!" a man called out near Julius. He was crying. Julius took out his wand, muttered a few words, and pointed it at his rifle. He was unstoppable now.
The boy fired, knocking down the entire Union front line. The Union men had never noticed, not even stopped to think. Their bodies were full of blood, dark red. Julius took aim once more.
He fired.
A few men in the second line went down while others returned the fire. Three men next to him were down; Julius hated seeing the blood. Then he saw his hand...
"Julius, eat your food," his father said. His father had seen war, too. It was not as Julius had seen it.
"May I be excused?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer before leaving the table for the outdoors.
* * *
"Mummy!" Julius called. He gritted his teeth. His hand was red. He would have to do a healing charm.
Julius began to breathe much faster. Exhale, he told himself. Inhale. His breathing sped once again.
He was okay. His hand was fine. No longer wounded.
No, he thought to himself. He looked at his scarred hand.
Julius walked around the camp; he had just joined the army. The group he was with was very experienced. Doc Jones (as he was called) was comforting a man yelling in pain.
"Now, all we need you to do is bite this," he said, handing the man a bullet. He began to perform an amputation as the man yelled in terror.
Bad memories. Bad memories. Julius walked around the small house, to the back.
"Now, Mister Kaiser," Doc Jones said, looking at Julius's hand. "I thought you were wounded in battle."
Julius laughed. "Of course not. What are you talking about?"
"I swore..."
It was the most light-hearted moment of the war, albeit the most shocking. He knew American Muggles could not tolerate witchcraft. He had to fight Doc Jones not only to save his secret, but himself.Julius looked at the small drummer boy, ready to die to save the South. He shrugged it off, aiming his gun at a Yankee. He missed. The small drummer boy was right next to him. Julius looked at the drum head. It was red. Blood.
"No!" Julius screamed.
"Mommy!" the boy cried. The boy fell to the ground.
"May you forever rest in peace," Julius said softly. The drummer boy nodded and closed his eyes for a last time. Julius turned his head from the solemn moment and began to concentrate once more one the fighting.
And the fight raged on. Men died. Men fought for what they believed in. For some it was preservation of the Union. For others it was states' rights or slavery. What was it for him? He had just left his family, and he had nowhere to go now. He understood homesickness now.
Julius ran to the nearby creek, trying to escape the emotional scars. He closed his eyes, feeling his wand. He was special. But why did it bother him? He had spent two years with Muggles and had found it to his liking, though the only magic people he knew were his parents.
Oh no, the boy thought, running. The Union army was raiding the camp. We're dead.
"Stop, boy!" a man shouted. Julius never looked back. He continued running through the valley. Two soldiers followed him. Their navy blue uniforms were torn and battered. Julius turned back and fired two shots, hitting one.
War. Was it just a word? Julius armed his wand, admiring its beauty. True, it was just a piece of cypress wood; but it was something special to him. He was special. He had a destiny. But he would never do great things in California.
"Julie, you're the best tactician in this group. We need you," the commander said. Julius shook his head.
"I know there's more to me. I just know it. I just need to find it," Julius said. He had been with the army for almost a year now.
"Okay. But it's been a pleasure to have you under my command, Mister Kaiser." Commander Williams held out his hand. Julius refused to shake it.
"Sir, no offense; but I have had the worst years of my life fighting this war. I feel as if I did it for no reason."
"Yes, we all wonder why..."
Julius left at that.
Light flew from Julius's wand. He had made up the spell. It wasn't a light charm like he had been taught. This light was harmful, even deadly.
It came out in jagged, bright forms. Julius sometimes had to shield his eyes, for it was so bright. It was like lightning...
"Mother, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." A fourteen year old boy looked at his mother with a look of innocence. His magic had just gone out of control again. No one knew what kind of spell it was. There was a large red hole in the wall, almost burning. Julius studied his mother's face. She was almost crying.
"Why?" she said to no one. "Why does it have to be this way?"
Julius stopped the light. He made a mental image of his mother in his head. Why did it have to be this way? Why were they always on the move? He thought he had an answer.
"Oh, Susanna! Don't you cry for me! I'm going to Louisiana, with a banjo on my knee," sang Bill Foster over the campfire. Julius and the rest joined in with the popular tune as well. It was dark–the mosquitos were biting. Julius slapped three on his leg.
"Dumb bugs," said Julius. The men broke into another round of song. They started singing something the boy Julius didn't know before Commander Jones stopped them.
"Men, we're going to move on tomorrow. I suggest you hit the sack early for your own good," he said. No one moved. "Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," said Bill. "We'll get to bed in a few minutes. Are we going to the front?" Bill wanted to fight.
"Perhaps. It just depends on the Yankees," replied the commander.
"Very well then. I guess we better get a move on," Bill said. Julius closed his eyes for a moment.
It was the day before their first battle. They had hiked through the marshes of Louisiana before meeting the Union troops ninety miles from New Orleans.
Julius sat down on the dry, green land. He reached his hand into the creek, feeling the cold. He shivered. Cold, he thought, thinking the obvious. He smiled to himself.
"Oh, no!" Julius screamed as Bill Foster fell to the ground, clutching his leg.
"Shoot me now, kid. I'm dead as it is," his friend said. Julius stared at him, unable to speak.
"That's stupid."
"Get back with the fightin' then. You've got the South to save."
Julius began to fall asleep. The sun fell just as his eyelids fell over his eyes. He began to see dark shades of red. It was another dream. But this one was different.
He was bald. He had a huge scar. He stared at the pathetic child in front of him: Colin Creevey. Was this the best Dumbledore had?
Julius almost immediately awoke. Who was Colin Creevey? Who was this powerful Dumbledore?
No time to worry, he told himself. Just let your thoughts take you. Julius went back to sleep.
He was still an adult now. But it was slightly different. He was still bald. He still had a huge scar over his forehead. He was surrounded by men in cloaks. The details were vague in his dream.
"Now, just watch," he heard himself explain. His adult self began to shoot lightning from his wand.
Julius awoke again. He had to shake these strange dreams off. He had never had dreams like the one he had just had. It was different. Perhaps it was a warning, a sign. The boy went to sleep for the night.
* * *
It was a beautiful morning. The sun beat down on Julius, making his skin feel hotter. Julius jumped up and stretched. He had not had any nightmares that night.
"Julie, come on," whispered a man, Joe Boudreaux. Julius was accompanying him on a scouting mission, way down south in the Louisiana swamp. Julius waded his way the ten feet to meet Joe.
"I'm here," Julius said to Joe. It was a dark night, and all they had to see by was the light of the moon, only a quarter moon.
Joe was an especially skinny man. Julius knew this because he had seen Joe before, but only once. Otherwise, he would have never known unless he bumped into him.
"We're getting closer to the Yankee camp, Julie...come on, get going," Joe said to Julius. Julius obeyed, following his superior every inch of the way.
There was light at the end of the swamp, as it revealed a Yankee camp. Men were around the fire, cooking. There was no need to warm up. One would rather get colder at this point in time.
"I just wanna get home," a Yankee said. He was easily the fattest one there, with a belly to his waist and beyond.
"What do you think they're doing?" Julius whispered to Joe. Joe glanced at Julius.
"Shush," Joe told Julius. Julius obeyed. There was a buzzing sound near the ground, a mosquito that began to bite his leg. Julius slapped it. He slapped it loudly.
Too loudly.
The fat man looked over into the swamp, grabbing his gun. "Who's in there?" the man yelled to the swamp.
"What's going on?" asked a man next to the fat man. The fat stared intently at the swamp.
"There's someone in that swamp," the fat man said. "Come on, follow me." The fat man and his comrade began to walk into the swamp, slapping mosquitos and keeping a watchful eye, nearing ever so closer to Julius and Joe.
"What are we going to do?" Julius asked Joe. Joe looked at Julius. The moon began to rise higher in the cypress trees, and the two could see each other much better.
"Run," said Joe. "Tell them the Yankees are here. Tell them–" Joe was caught off in mid-sentence as the sound of a gun roared through the night.
"Rebels!" yelled a man, the fat one's comrade. Joe reached his arm out to Julius. There was blood, red blood all over Joe's arm. Julius stared intently at Joe.
"I'm not leaving you," Julius said. Joe began to open his mouth as another gunshot ripped through the night. Joe's head was blown off–literally. It landed in the swamp water, now turned a murky red under the pale moonlight.
Julius reached for his wand as gunshots went in all directions around him. None hit him.
"Get over here, you stupid rebel!" called the fat man as he reloaded his gun. Julius kept silent, jumping through the water while he fumbled for his wand.
No, he couldn't use his wand. He could not give away his secret. He wasn't going to stoop that low. If he was going to live with Muggles, he would have to act like them. Julius continued to run as the guns continued to fire, splashing water behind him. Julius turned left, heading in the direction of a group of cypress trees.
Julius paused behind the largest cypress tree. The fat man sat in the swamp water–it wasn't deep–while his companion slowly walked in Julius's direction. Julius was unarmed, only at Joe's insistence.
"Come out here, you Rebel scum," said the companion as Julius stood silently behind the large cypress. The Union soldier, a middleweight man wearing the Union army uniform, crept closer. The fat man got up.
"Danny, stop and let catch up with ya'," the fat man said. The companion, Danny, rolled his eyes. Julius slowly dropped into the water, his head the only part of his body above ground. Julius calmly began to creep away to his campsite.
"Cletus, come on!" Danny said as the fat man made his way through. The fat man eventually caught up seconds later.
"I see something, Danny. Something in the water," Cletus said, shoving his way ahead.
Julius began to move faster while staying as silent as he could. But he was not fast enough.
He would have to use magic.
Julius quickly took his wand from his sleeve and performed a shielding charm. He was safe from gunfire.
Julius replaced his wand back in his sleeve and jumped out the water. "There he is!" Cletus screamed as Julius began to run through the swamp. "Get your gun!"
Danny stopped and began to load. He was fast. Then Danny went back to chasing Julius.
"Where is he, Cletus?" Danny asked. Cletus looked around. He had excellent vision in the night.
"Over here, Danny," Cletus said, pointing him in Julius's direction. Julius stood still. "Wait. He stopped." Julius ducked into the water and began to wade off.
He was safe.
Julius walked into his home, opening the door to discover his mother at the dinner table next to a stranger. The stranger had a wand in his hand and was wearing a beautiful black cloak.
"Don't move, kid; or your mother dies," the stranger said. Julius stared the stranger straight in the eye.
"What's your name?" asked Julius. The stranger still stared at him, silent.
"John Sousa," the man said. "Why? Got a problem with my name?" Julius suddenly realized how grave the situation was. If Julius had everything figured out, his mother's life–if not the entire families'–was on the line.
"Why are you about to kill my mother?" Julius asked John. John stared at Julius with a blank, evil face.
"She killed. Your father killed. Even you killed. Now the Ministry takes what is theirs and leaves what is not," John said.
"What?" Julius asked.
"You and your brother, you two stay. Your father, your mother, they leave. Never to return. To die," John said.
"No," said Julius's mother. "I didn't do it; I swear!"
"Do what?" Julius asked. "What is going on here?" John took Julius's mother's arm and squeezed it, pointing the wand at Julius. Julius's mouth fell down in shock.
"Dear God, please don't kill me.." Julius said. His mother's face began to tighten as she dripped with sweat.
Frederick walked into the room. He eyed Julius first, then John, then his mother. "Who are you?" Frederick asked the stranger.
"John. John Sousa," said John. Frederick inched closer.
"What are you doing here?" asked Frederick.
"Taking your parents away," John said. Frederick ran to John and began to punch him in the arm.
"What...do...you...really....want?!" Frederick said in between tears. He continued to beat John in the arm.
"Your parents are murderers! Look, eighteen years ago there was a killing spree in London. It was three months long, and fifteen people were killed. Your parents did it. You see, all these people had somehow contributed to your parents' money problems. One put a high interest rate on a loan; another never paid back a loan, just to give a few examples. Yes, your parents were very poor. They had been hiding for twenty years until now. Now, they're good as dead," John explained.
"No, Julie, they're lying!" said Julius's mother. Julius looked into his brother's eight year old eyes. There was a look of shock, hatred, and fear all at the same time.
"Who framed you, Mom?" Julius asked. He gripped his wand tightly. His mother stared him in the eye.
"Don't do it, Julie. I know what you want to do. Don't do it. You'll be just like them," Julius's mother said.
"Like who?" Frederick asked, now having stopped punching John.
"The Ministry." John moved his wand away from its former position and pointing it at Frederick.
"Oh, God, don't do that," Julius said. "Don't kill Frederick." Frederick began to cry and wail while staying as still as possible.
"Here's the deal: I take your parents, and you live in peace. In England. Wizard country. All would be safe. If you don't do it, I kill your little brother, your parents, and then you," John said. Julius thought for a moment. He could take the first deal, but it had just as disastrous consequences as the second.
"Julius, save yourself and Frederick! And run off!" said Julius's mother. Suddenly Julius's father appeared in the doorway, a rifle in his hand.
"Give me my family back, you slimy scum," he said as he aimed the rifle at John. "I presume you work for the Ministry, eh?" John nodded.
"Are you really going to kill me?" asked John. Julius's father nodded.
"You'll be the first I ever kill out of combat, coward," he said as he pulled the trigger. In almost one swift motion, John threw Frederick up and backed away. Frederick yelled as he was shot through the heart, blood squirting everywhere.
John aimed his wand at Julius's father and shot a death spell at him. A red beam of light hit the father's heart as it heart stopped beating. "No!" Julius yelled. Julius's mother jumped at the killer, who immediately performed the same on her. Julius then found himself surrounded by three dead bodies and a killer.
"You haven't done anything to save your family, Julie. Why?" asked John.
"I think you need to shut up and care about your own business," Julius responded.
"I'll let you leave, Julius. I'm gonna let you leave. Just never tell anybody about what happened here; or it'll be your throat. I'm serious," John said. Julius grabbed his wand. "Now don't get smart with me, boy," John said.
"Too late," Julius said. "The oppressed will have their revenge. And the Ministry...the Ministry will fall."
"You're hungry. Hungry for power. It's already corrupted you, boy," John said. "I've never seen it corrupt someone so fast."
"Either way, I'm going to get my revenge. As will all the other oppressed," Julius said. He stuck his wand under John's throat.
"Look, I'm just doing my job!" John yelled.
"And I'm just beginning mine," came the response from Julius. Julius backed away, and the lightning blazed out of the wand into John. John screamed in pain, his internal organs exploding and melting as his skin turned to ash.
Julius walked out the door. His journey had begun.
Author's Note: Well, that's the first chapter. Tell me your opinion! Hopefully, you thought it was good; but it is your opinion. I spent a while coming up with ideas for this. At least it doesn't sugarcoat war like fics here or the book Number the Stars. Who do I have to thank? I'm going to thank everybody who loved Colin Creevey Versus the Apocalypse. Without your love of it, I might have never done this fic. Good night!