Disclaimer: JK owns the HP 'verse, The name Rag Man is from MTG but the character is my friend Nullmoon's along with the Order and anything non-HP
The Legend of the Rag Man
Prologue:
In the world of muggles, children fear the legend of the Boogie Man. In
The world of magic, old and young fear the Rag Man. An ancient creature of
The darkest power. Said to have been created by the Dark Lord himself. The
Rag Man is only the first of his kind, his kin obey his every command through their twisted sense of loyalty. Legends are told of him to only teens and older, for the stories of the Rag Man may have children have nightmares of him. But the Rag Man has a darker power than The Dark Lord. If anyone dreams of the Rag Man, he is able to see them and if they victim is touched by the Rag Man in their nightmare, they wake with a blood wound from where he placed his boney hands. Mysterious deaths began to spread after stories were told of the Rag Man, all the victims died from blood loss in their sleep. But where the stories of the villain proceed, there must be a hero, or in this case, an order of heroes. An order of elite wizards that was created before the Ministry of Magic was even formed. They were formed to defeat the Dark Lord's Mentor. Though the Dark Lord's name is known throughout the world of magic, however, his Mentor's name was lost in the pages of time. The Order itself has no known history; some even believe that the Order doesn't even exist at all. So without further ado. Let the story begin.
Chapter 1: The Old Timer and the Boy
In the darkened house, an old man sat in a tall chair, waiting for the men and women that enter to find a seat so he may begin. All kinds of creatures and people came to visit the old man to hear his tales of old, but the last person who entered was really, a small boy. One of the adults saw the boy and stepped in front of him, to block his path.
"Hey there little guy. Are you lost?" the man spoke in a friendly tone.
The small boy looked up at his with his silver, piercing eyes, and revealed a large scar across his throat. This sight made the man worried. Ignoring
The man's reaction, the boy opened his mouth to speak.
"No sir. I came to listen to the old man's story, like you."The small boy's voice was very childish, but had a very dark tone within the mix.
"I'm sorry little guy, you're not allowed."
"Let him enter Maxuis." The old man cut the man off from finishing.
Maxuis looked at the old man with a confused and shocked look.
"But, you said yourself children cannot enter to hear your stories."
Maxuis topped with his facial expression. The old man sighed and picked up the boy and lifted him to Maxuis' height level.
"You see the scar along his throat? That is what the Rag Man did to him, and this boy knows it very well. He fears not the Rag Man any longer." The old man spoke in a very serious tone as other crowd around him to listen.
Maxuis eyes widened from the old man's words.
"I thought the Rag Man was just a myth! There is no way he's real"
Maxuis roared at the old man's intolerance. Before Maxuis could speak anymore, the small boy cut him off.
"It's okay mister. When the Rag Man gets you, you will understand how 'fake' he is. Besides, the old man stories are always true. Every one of them is as real as you and me."The small boy finished his talk with a childish smile, then he dropped out of the old man's arms and took a seat closest to the old man's chair, kicking his legs up and down to pass the time for people to settle down so they may begin the story. Maxuis was frozen still from the fear that felt from this mere child. As he regained the courage to move
again, the last few people entered the house, a half giant, two men with very long coats, and a cloaked man. After everyone found their seats, the old man sat and began the story.
"The Rag Man, the demon of the world of magic. His mere presence makes the weak-minded sleep, go crazy, or even the monster's bidding. He appears human in person, but while you sleep, you see him in the true form. A wrinkly old man, his skin stretched across his bones, eyes blacker then the pit of hell itself. He only appears physically weak to draw victims in, but truth be told, he can crush your skull to dust with his bare hands. He feeds off the fear that his victims let free before he tortures and kills them. The Rag Man, to this day, wanders the world aimlessly, in search of power, so he may have the world's rivers run with blood, and never dry."
As the old man tells the story, multiple people listen intently, but one man in the back starts to doze off to sleep. The small boy continues to kick his leg back and forth, not being the least bit interested for he has heard all of this before. The old man continued to tell his story and noticed the cloaked man had his head down as if he was asleep but had his hand on the nearby windowsill, tapping his fingers silently repeatedly, as if he was bored and was trying pass time. The old man cleared his throat and the small boy perked his head up in interest. Then the old man continues the story.
"Over 30 years ago, there was an attack on the Ministry of Magic, many people died; the survivors claimed it to be the Dark Lord himself, but others claimed it to be the Rag Man. After the rumors spread, the mysterious
order quickly appeared to investigate, just in case. They found that all those who were killed were killed without a wand, not once was a killing curse fired. After the investigation was finished, the order could not prove it was the Rag Man, but they did prove it was not the Dark Lord. The case was closed weeks later, with no suspects, and afterwards, the remaining witnesses were killed off in their sleep, with mysterious wounds and blood loss. Those cases were too, closed a few weeks later with no conclusion. Murders amongst muggles were worse than those in the world of magic the only lead was that this killer targeted muggles and those who were muggle born, leading to the belief that it was the Dark Lord, Giving him the fame amongst dark witches and wizards, and the fear from the Ministry of Magic. The Order wasn't heard from again after those incidents. In the world of the muggles, the murders were described as a serial killer, murdering random victims and leaving without a trace. Once or twice, police officers are attacked and they too, were killed in the same fashion. Some tried to resist. The drew their weapons and fired at the Rag Man, their efforts, however, were completely futile. Before 1974, attacks on the American Ministry, British Ministry, and even the Russian and Chinese Ministries have been made by the Rag Man, but people still believing that the attacks were from the Dark Lord Tom. (Voldemort)" After calling the Dark Lord by that title, the small boy giggled and the cloaked man chuckled lightly. The Old man noticed that more and more people who were sitting near the cloaked man were falling asleep. The old man slammed his foot down, waking everyone up except for the man right next to the cloaked man. The old man stood from his seat and walked over to the man who was sleeping and shook his shoulder, waking him up. The man shook his head and opened his eyes slowly.
"What? Oh, that's right, the story, Sorry, I was having a real weird nightmare" The man was cut off from speaking by the old man grabbing the collar of his shirt and picking up the former sleeping man.
"You had a nightmare? Of what!" The old man roared as he shook the man.
"Calm down old timer, it was of the Rag Man sure, but I'm not bleeding anywhere, so I'm fine." the man grabbed the old man's hand and removed it from his collar. The old man calmed down a bit before speaking again.
"Good, we don't need any incidents"The old man was cut off by a chuckle. The old man looked at the cloaked figure near the window
"What's so funny sir?" The old man asked confused. The cloaked figure looked up at the old man, revealing a pair of pure black eyes. The old man's eyes shot wide from horror as the cloaked figure spoke.
"You said we don't need any incidents, well that doesn't matter anymore for you and everyone else in here. You all are going to die!"
The cloaked figure stood up as his hand flew out and grabbed the old man's throat, lifting him off the ground. People all around started panicking and running for the exit to escape the scene, but the cloaked man extended his free hand at the door, making a barrier appear around the door and windows, denying anyone to escape from the house. The cloaked figure kept his eyes on the old man as he began to speak.
"Admirable that you tell so many stories about me, your death will be quick."The cloaked figure reached for the hood of his cloak and lowered it, revealing the pale face of the Rag Man himself. The Rag Man used his thumb to push on the side of the old man's neck, there was a loud snap and the old man's body went limp. The Rag Man tossed the old man's corpse to the side as he extended both of his hands to his sides, drawing claws from his fingers. The two long coated men stood up quickly drawing wands from their holsters, revealing armor under their coats.
The small boy saw the armor and whispered to himself.
"The Order" The two men aimed their wands at the Rag Man and yelled.
"Avada Kedavra"The two killing curses hit the Rag Man head on, but he stood there unharmed. The Rag Man chuckled darkly before he spoke.
"You seriously think that childish curse will kill me? Pathetic dogs of the Order." The Rag Man ran at the two men, digging his claws deep into their throats. Then ripping them out, making blood spurt out of both of the men's necks. The Rag Man then turned his attention to the other people in the house.
"Oh, don't think I forgot about the rest of you" The Rag Man spoke as he slowly stepped towards his victims. The small boy was in panic from the sudden appearance of the Rag Man but he used the large amount of people to his advantage and crawled under them, heading towards the corner of the room to hide. The Rag Man didn't notice him and started to slaughter the other people in the house. The little boy hugged his knees and started to cry as he watched in horror while the Rag Man murdered everyone else and finally caught the boy in his vision. The Rag Man smiled and started to step towards the small boy. As the boy watched, the Rag Man approached him and he whispered to himself.
"It doesn't think. It doesn't feel.
It doesn't laugh or cry.
All it does from dusk till dawn,
Is make the soldiers die."
The Rag Man reached to the boy, leaned down to his ear, and whispered.
"You know, I always love hearing the rhymes children make about me. You got lucky the last time we met but that scar, will run with blood again, and this time it won't stop until your body runs dry."
The small boy closed his eyes before he felt a warm liquid flow down his neck. Not long after, the boy grew cold, and died silently. The Rag Man stood at his full height and smiled before apperating away from the house.
Five hours later.
Around the house, men with armored masks and body armor were investigating.
Men were inside the house, checking for any survivors and found two of their own, dead, with their wands in their hands. The Order was investigating the scene, knowing that it was caused the Rag Man. Moments after more members arrived; a man appeared with the same looking armor, but pure black and covered in runes. The man stood taller than all of the others, observing the area briefly. The man walked towards the house, as members of the Order stood out of his way at attention. The man stepped inside the house as all of the members inside stopped their work and snapped to attention. The man who appeared to be leader waved his hand, relieving the men to go back to their work. One man with a flame painted mask stepped up next to him and spoke.
"High Marshal. It was the Rag Man, but we have no leads. I'm sorry sir." The High Marshal patted his shoulder lightly, silently forgiving him.
The High Marshal looked around the room, seeing all of the death that the Rag Man had created for his own twisted pleasure. The High Marshal showed no emotion on his face while he investigated. Finally, the High Marshal caught sight of the only child in the room the small child was leaning against wall with his head tilted up, showing the large, open gash where his scar was. The
High Marshal shook his head and looked over to a member who looked like he was in command before the High Marshal arrived. The High Marshal opened his mouth to speak.
"Captain, bury the civilians, take the boy and our fallen brothers back to base. Have the boy buried properly, and place our brothers in the mausoleum.
Let's go." The High Marshal apparated away as the members did as the High Marshal said. The Captain reached for his earpiece and pressed it inward.
"We need a cleanup team here now. Get moving I want this finished up within the hour, and get Sevig on the horn I want them to start tracking the Rag Man again." The Captain lowered his hand and went about his business. As the last of the men left the house, the Captain was staring at the small boy intently. Before long, one of the members grabbed his shoulder and spoke.
"Sir, you okay?"The soldier asked concerned. The Captain shook his head and looked over to the soldier.
"Huh? Yeah sorry. Let's go." The Captain and the other soldier apparated away.