Good day, and welcome. I hope you like this first chapter. I tried to make it interesting and well written, so you better enjoy it. Reviews are welcome, but don't just bitch about something that doesn't go your way. Any suggestions are welcome and if there are any errors or anything like that, go ahead and mention it. If there are any problems with the way I write, put it in a review and I'll try to fix it.
His hands hit the cold wall, again and again, plaster breaking, drywall decaying, red brick dying. Two holes, larger than hands, enlarged, bigger and bigger. Harder and harder. Blacker and blacker. The pummeling shook the room- no, the house. Debris floated from the moulding ceiling. Dust which had coated the wall blew free and scattered. Everything else was already ash. The only other thing that was concurrent was the smell of rot and death.
The beating gave was, hands only touching air. The entire wall was gone, replaced by the rot and ash everything else already was. Tears fell, and splattered on the ground. Beautiful green grass grew and then died. More ash scattered. The ceiling gave way and crashed through the floor. It dissolved before it dared touch him.
A scream of anguish erupted, and the sound of beating continued- to the left this time. Harder and harder. Faster and faster. The cadence of the drumbeat spread the smell of death farther. People watched the collapsing house. He didn't care. People whispered in fear, in awe, in languish. They screamed when they got too close. They died when they got too close. Their souls were torn apart when they got too close. When they got too close… Everything was too close.
Left hand, then right. Left again. Beat, beat, beat. Smash. Another wall gone. Repeat. The floor gone. The ceiling gone, too. Then the drum came from the first floor. Beat, beat, beat. Smash. A figure, a skeleton, walked up behind and began hitting the walls with him. It was a sign, one that showed the skeleton's desire to help. It wanted to help its master complete his job, whatever that was.
The last wall fell. There was nothing else to beat. Nothing else to grab. Nothing else to hold and cry on. There was nothing but himself and the numerous skeletons putting themselves back together from their recent deaths. He grasped at air, trying to find some purchase. He landed on his knees, hoping for a cloud to rise on. He fell on his face, wishing for the nightmare to end. Tears streamed from his eyes. With no more anger at life, flowers finally bloomed. Grass grew. Trees sprouted. A forest came to life, and the skeletons walked away, their call received.
He, Harry Potter, fucking Boy-Who-Lived, fell asleep. The place where he had no need to fear for others, the place he need not worry for destruction, faded into view. He enjoyed. Once, he smiled.
Hours, he lay still. His heavy jeans were covered in rotted soot. The over shirt smelled putrid. Black, scraggly hair frayed and parted over the lush grass and broken cement foundation. There were no cuts or punctures from the heavy landing. The sheer durability of his body insured that. Bruises were nonexistent. Not a single scratch. There was only a pristine body lying in the rubble and soot.
This is the introduction to this story. This chapter is very, VERY short. I plan on having shorter chapters for this fic, each one averaging maybe 1000- 1500 words. Probably the size of the second chapter.
Anyway, I hope this was at least slightly enjoyable. It's a slight crossover with several other things, and if you notice what they are, then good for you.
Benedark.