Hitwizard Squad
The guard paced the solid stone wall, carefully stepping over the various traps that were set up along it's formidable length. His right hand was firmly wrapped around the base of his holstered wand, and his lips were curled into the beginning of a curse. The various magical creatures he had put under extremely strong compulsion charms were patrolling the area in front of the wand. They directly informed him of the happenings in the dark forest.
Another guard, almost perfectly mirroring his position was just a few hundred feet down the wall. Every sentinel's patrolling was supposed to be random, but it was nigh impossible to not slip into some semblance of an ordered round. The human mind found patterns and made them rigidly comply with what happened outside of the subconscious and conscious. However, each pattern was so lengthy and complicated it took an expert analysis to figure out said pattern.
In the daytime, the villa was a charming place, with colorful birds that flitted every which-way, vainly showing off their impressive plumage. The sun's light poured in like honey, painting everything a cheery shade lighter. The pools of clean, standing water glistened like a lake of diamonds, as they reflected the suns light in abstract coronas of white light.
The plaster-white buildings sparkled with cleanliness, a standard that was carried on, even accentuated by the people inside. Their cheeriness and wonderful rapport with each other was almost never discovered to be a deception. For in reality, the villa was a place of death and desolation, with each newly overturned mound of earth carefully disguised with a wonderful patch of wildflowers, or painstakingly concealed with a mosaic or fresco.
The owner of the villa was a notorious murderer, gambler, and liar. If you talked to the right people, all of his tales of destruction were told with religious detail, like the Bible talks about Satan.
The dreary picture the owner of the veritable castle, an evil man named Anakletos Manos, painted was quite well coupled with the somber night that pressed down on all the guards. But it was about to become more exciting.
A loud and terrifying scream was heard, and the guard rushed to see his partner on the ground in front of the wall, scared but otherwise undamaged. "What happened?" asked the guard on the wall.
"Some damn ministry Auror, or something. He switched places with me and is inside the wall. He told me he has tons of explosives and listening devices rigged though," an unspoken look from the guard on the ground told the guard on the wall that he needed to whisper what he needed to say, or everyone would go up in blazing flames.
"Hold on, I'll get you up here," the guard on the wall said. "Wingardium Leviosa." Quickly shutting off the defensive wards, he lifted the man onto the wall and turned the wards off. He then immediately fell to the ground, letting a blue jet of light sink into his skin, courtesy of the other man's wand.
"This is Tragedy, calling Faceless. I'm inside. I've got the guard under my modified stunner, and I'm ready to get rid of the wards. Are you ready?" asked the still-conscious man, his appearance fading into a figure in a dark cloak and a stylized white face mask with exaggerated tear tracks and sad eyes, much like an ancient theater mask.
"Yes, we're in position," said Faceless from behind the wall. Underneath his mask, Tragedy rolled his eyes. Faceless was always so concise, and boring. That's probably why his name was Faceless.
"I'm lowering the wards in three… two… one," came Tragedy's reply. There was a quiet crackle, and they lowered. Four other figures blurred into appearance on the wall, and the crackling noise reverted itself.
The first new figure was Faceless himself, with the same non-descript black robe and a plain white mask with no features at all.
The second had a mask with a laughing mouth and upturned eyes. Comedy.
The third had a mask with heavy features, and an angular mouth. He was Heavy. He carried a staff and a gun on his back.
The final one had a frightening white mask with the features of a ghoul etched on it. He was codenamed Death.
"Drop!" came Tragedy's quick order, and the five figures fell prone on the wall. He quickly cast a Notice-me-not charm on the whole group, and awakened the guard, quickly modifying his memory. The guard's eyes slid out of focus, he stood up, a fierce expression adorning his features. He began to pace the wall again, just like before.
"Comedy, do you want the target?" Tragedy asked, hoping the other wizard said no.
"Of course, silly!" Comedy's corkscrewing voice answered. "I want to splatter his brains on the wall! It'll be fun! Ghoulie can help!"
Death's mask whipped towards Comedy, leaving no doubt that he was worth of his namesake. "Come on Ghoulie! I love hearing your beautiful voice! French is such a lovely language!"
"That's enough Comedy. You can pick up the kill. Do you know which one is his room? It gets changed every night. I'll send it to your mask." Tragedy quickly exerted himself, sending it with his Legimency.
Without another word, Tragedy stood up, waving to the others to get up. They did, and they shot off towards the room that they knew contained their target. Manos.
They dropped on the roof, everybody but Comedy being almost totally silent. Instead, he crashed through the roof, startling a certain Greek wizard. Mentally swearing, Tragedy cast a Silencing charm around the whole building, knowing it would do no good. "God dammit Comedy! Kill him now; we've got to go! There's no way we can get all of the security he's hired!"
There was a flash of light, a disgusting squelching sound, and Comedy's head popped out of the hole in the roof he had made. "Sorry Trage."
Tragedy shook his head, loudly swearing at all the Apparition pops he heard around him. Death's head popped up, and a hand shot out of his cloak, a scythe made out of solid darkness pooling in his hand. "Ils vont mourir," He said in a deep voice, almost immediately jumping forward and slicing a man in half.
Heavy threw something at Tragedy, who caught it. A gun. "What's it got?" he asked, trying not to go crazy.
"Bludgeoners and bonebreakers. Every other shot," Heavy answered in a thick Russian accent.
Tragedy nodded, bringing up the rifle. Faceless caught a gun from heavy as well. Heavy set down three heavy metal cans on the roof of the building. It was their ammo. "Well, they asked for it."
The team immediately went into action, bar Death, who had already done so, and was currently slinging some explosion spell out of his scythe.
Tragedy fired his rifle, trusting the charms to automatically reload it. Squeeze. One man was dead, flung from the top of a tree and into a wall, letting a sick crack permeate the battlefield.
Heavy carved out swathes with a machine gun, stopping every once in a while to dodge the occasional curse. Not many could duel with his machine gun.
Comedy would disappear and pop up behind a group of enemies and throw an explosive something, or slit someone's throat. He came up with a large and creative variety of deaths and tortures to use on his opponents. Faceless had jumped on an armored broom, and was using the rifle Heavy had given him to great effect. The bullets had piercing wards carved into them, and there were not many things they couldn't penetrate.
In short, they were amazing to watch in action. Within five minutes they had killed two hundred people. Only around one hundred remained. But the hitwizards were not without injuries. Faceless sported a small but deep puncture wound an annoying piercing curse had left him. Heavy had several slashes on his chest from a Mauling curse sent his way. Comedy also had several minor wounds, but they left him hungry for more action. Equally, Death's reckless tactics caused him several slashes, but it only incensed him for more action.
Tragedy was untouched, surprisingly. This soon changed as he ran out of ammo and was forced to use his wand. He was still good, but several curses clipped him as he rolled and dodged ten others. Suddenly, forty green jets of light, converging on Tragedy, matched forty green flashes earlier. He smirked, apparating away… only to find he had not moved at all. Damn! He thought, staring at a man who had laid down some anti-apparition wards. He used a spell the runes did not cover to send everything he had on him but his robe to heavy, and then dropped a grenade. The Avada Kedavras hit him, and the grenade blew up what remained of his corpse.
Faceless saw it and felt no need to weep, but did feel a sense of loss. He immediately apparated to Heavy, who was now carrying Tragedy's stuff, grabbed him, apparated to Comedy, grabbed him, and apparated to Death, caught him in midswing, and forced him to Side-along. They arrived at the gate, which Heavy blew up, and sprinted out. Once they were outside, they apparated in the same way they did out, except without Tragedy. All could feel the loss, as Tragedy had handpicked every one of them, and it was a somber and sullen team that walked back to their headquarters deep underneath the ministry, even further then that of the Unspeakables, and flopped down on the floor of their base that "didn't exist". Heavy dropped Tragedy's mask, fell to the ground, compulsively hiding his sadness by taking one of his many guns apart.
The sadness of death had fallen upon them all.
A/N: First story, going to continue, blah, blah, review, blah. Updates at least every week. This is much shorter then normal. If I don't post after a week, feel free to pelt me with e-mails!