Author's Note: Again, if you haven't watched Elfen Lied you are not going to understand some of what's going on. I highly recommend at least watching an episode or two before reading this. Forgot to say this in the last chapter, but i do not own either Harry Potter or Elfen Lied. They're property of the respective geniuses that wrote them. Remember to read and review!
Chapter Two - Destiny
Previously:
Anger rose up in ten year old Harry James Potter. Everyone had always hated him. Why had everyone always hated him?
The bandaged one spoke up again. "Everyone hates you because this world was not made for you. You have a choice to make. You can chose to ignore me and live a life of being treated like rubbish, or you can chose to listen to me and make this world into a world of your own." The bandaged one took a few steps closer to him, holding out its hand imploringly. "The choice is yours. Which do you choose?"
"So, which do you chose? You are not long for the world now. Do you want to die here, miserable, in a world that hates you? Or do you want to make a world, a life, of your own?"Only a moment of hesitation passed before Harry lifted up a shaky, pale hand, taking the offered hand of the bandaged one and speaking in a strong, firm tone that he had never spoken in before. "I chose you! I want to be strong! I want to make them feel the same pain that I have."
The bandaged one grinned, and the bandages unwrapped themselves from the bandaged one's head to reveal a face identical to his, save for the passionate, maniacal grin on its face. "Good. Then lets get out of here and make them pay for everything they did to you."
Harry was shoved out of the deepest part of his mind and back in to the real world, back into his dark cupboard. He was laying on the blanket, and the back of his head felt warm and sticky. Was he bleeding? Something warm, comforting, buzzing flowed through him, healing his injuries and taking away the dull pain all over his body and the sharp pain in the back of his head. He would have called it magic had he known the right word. "Break the lock." He pushed himself to his knees.
Going on instincts he hadn't known he had, he focused on the lock on his cupboard and looked for the source of the odd, stirring feeling in his back from his dreams. The bandaged one had called them vectors in his dreams. When he found the vectors, he mentally grabbed them and shoved them out. Four see-through arms burst forth from his back and twisted around his bloodied, bruised form, hitting the lock and the cupboard door itself head on. It was as if a force even stronger than Uncle Vernon had rammed the door, it was sent flying off its hinges and crashing into the far wall of the living room across from him, breaking the tv and tv stand.
He could hear yelling from upstairs, it sounded like Petunia and Vernon were yelling about him. The bandaged one commented on his lack of titles. "Just Petunia and Vernon, huh?" His reply was short and simple, yet full of hatred and bitterness. 'No family would treat me like this. They are no family of mine. Family is supposed to love you and they've never loved me.'
Vernon came barreling down the steps, red-faced and angry once more but also scared. "Wh-what the hell are you doing, you freak?! Do you know how much its going to cost me to replace that door of yours?! Get back in your cupboard, you freak!"
Petunia and Dudley were right behind him. "Mummy, Harry looks scary!"
Petunia hugged Dudley close to her. "Its alright Duddikins, he's just mad that he got in trouble." She cooed, before turning to Vernon. "Vernon dear, leave the boy alone and go to your business meeting. I'll handle him. The ungrateful, selfish little brat already broke the cupboard door."
"Freak? Ungrateful? Selfish?" Harry seethed in anger, his vectors hanging, waiting, in the air around him. All three Dursleys turned to him, never having heard him talk in a tone so angry, so cold. "You're selfish, not me…and I'll make you pay!" His shoved his vectors at the Dursleys, decapitating them all at once. Blood sprayed all over the foyer walls and the floors and the rug and his face and his two sizes too big hand me down green shirt and jean shorts.
But Harry was unfazed, his eyes cold as emeralds as he looked on at the bloody mess that was now the foyer. He felt empty, nothing, numb. Everything was cold, a cold, calm, focused, numb anger. He couldn't put words to it properly, he just knew that he'd never felt more alive, never felt more sure of himself. This was why he had been born. This was his purpose. "I will kill them all. I will make my own home in this world that threw me away. I'll remake the world!"
He went over to the bloodied body of his uncle and lifted him up just enough so that he could take the wallet out of his pocket. Opening it up, he took out the 100$ bill he had in there. 'He won't be needing this now.' He had to pack up a bag and leave – he had no reason to stay here anymore. He changed into a new outfit – khaki shorts and a faded blue t-shirt – and put on his shoes. He got his school backpack from last year out of his cupboard and packed a spare outfit into it before grabbing his comb, toothbrush, and toothpaste from the bathroom. He threw his black knit cap on his head to hide his horns. It was a hand me down from Dudley so it was naturally a size or two too big for him, but with his horns it fit just right. If it had fit him, then it never would have fit over his horns.
Giving his bag one last look over, he deemed himself packed and headed out the door, leaving the only home he had ever known without a single second thought about it. He didn't know where he was going cause he hadn't had a plan past getting away, so he just let his feet lead him. He walked and walked and walked until his feet took him to the park, so he sat on the swings because they were his favorite. He'd never cared for playgrounds, just swinging. He had always liked swinging, it made him feel like he could fly. Fly far, far away from his family, his school, his life. He would love it if he could fly.
Where would he go now that he had killed his relatives? Apart of him still couldn't believe he'd actually done it, actually killed the Dursleys. He half expected them wake up and come barreling down the street to the park to take him back home, beat him up, and shove him in the cupboard with no meals for a week. There was no way even with them dead he could go back there – the cops would come. He didn't know if he'd go to jail or if he'd be put in an orphanage if they found him – would they even suspect him? Magic wasn't real. Not that what he'd done was magic, it was his vectors. He didn't want to get caught even if all they did was put him in an orphanage. No one could be trusted, all anyone ever did was hurt him and bully him. Even the teachers at school had bullied him behind his back for his horns. He scowled remembering it, his hands curling into fists as he remembered their words.
Nine year old Harry sat by himself in the far corner of the room away from all of the other children, doodling on the side of his already finished assignment.
"That's the Potter boy, Dudley's cousin." The teacher told the new assistant. Harry glanced over at them before hurriedly looking back down at his paper. 'Why do they all hate me? I try my best to be good. What am I doing wrong?'
The new assistant looked shocked. "Really, he's Dudley's cousin? I never would have guessed they were related, they're total opposites. He's so quiet its creepy. And just look at those horns. They're disgusting!"
"Yes, and everyone avoids him for it. He even gives me the creeps." His teacher replied, "He might be quiet and obedient but he's got the worst grades in the class, and he actually turns in all of his work. His cousin Dudley is a bully and he never turns in his homework, period – he's going to be held back at this rate."
Harry clenched his fists on his desk, accidentally pushing on his pencil so hard that the led broke. 'Why do they all hate me! Just cause I'm different, just cause I'm a freak. Why?'
Harry clenched the swing chains tightly in his fists, so tight it hurt. 'I should kill them too.' He thought angrily. Then he gasped, a sharp intake of breath. 'Wait, kill? Did I really just think that?' he thought, momentarily horrified at the workings of his own mind. 'But I – I made the Dursleys die and they deserved it. They deserved it. Do my teachers deserve to die, too? They were just as mean to me as Dudley and Petunia are. Were, I guess, now.' He corrected himself. Then a thought occurred to him. 'But can I even go back to school, without a place to stay? I didn't think about this!'
Suddenly, he was shoved off of the swing and into the dirt. Two boys were laughing at him. "There are you are, scarface!" He knew those voices, it was Dudley's friends Piers and Malcolm. "Where's Big D, eh? He hasn't shown up yet! He told us he'd meet us at Piers' after lunch."
Oh so that's what this was about. "I don't know. I've been here all day." He lied through his teeth. "I wasn't allowed to go shopping and they didn't trust me to stay home."
The boys laughed. "Haha, that's rich! Even your own family hates you." Harry's eyes narrowed and his hands curled into fists. "Ooooh scary glare. I'm so terrified! Aren't you terrified, Malcolm?" The other boy just laughed. "Yeah, so terrified. What's a puny little brat like you gonna do to us? We beat you up last time."
Harry growled, pushing himself to his feet and standing tall and confident. He'd never felt so sure of himself in front of Piers and Malcolm. "Go away." The boys just laughed at him, mocking him. "Go away or I'll kill you!" The boys balked at this, suddenly unsure of themselves. Obviously they doubted the validity of his claims – because surely a tiny ten year old half the size he should be couldn't stand a chance against two boys much bigger than he was. But the threat and the sudden burst of confidence behind it shook them up. They were cowardly bullies. All talk and no bite. "I'll say it one last time, go away!" He wasn't sure if he actually planned to kill them or not if they refused, but he'd jump that bridge when he got there. Either ways, their blood on the grass wouldn't be a loss to anyone. If anything it would benefit the gene pool.
Luckily for their own sakes, the boys backed down. "Fine! You're no fun anyways, not without Dudley anyways." Malcolm said, starting off in the general direction of his house. Harry watched as they left, listening. "Come on Piers, let's go to my house and call him. Maybe they went out to lunch or his mom took him clothes shopping or something." Piers protested. "Why not just go to his house?" Malcolm rolled his eyes. "Because my house is way closer, duh! Besides I don't wanna walk that far if they aren't even home yet."
Good, they weren't going to the Dursley's. He let out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding and sat back on the swing. Now he just had to figure out what to do with the rest of the day till evening. He'd never been allowed to just go out and play all day before like Dudley, not until it was nearly evening and all his chores were done. He wasn't quite sure what to do with his newfound freedom. Dudley and his friends went and did stuff without their parents around all the time but he had never gotten to do anything. Should he stay at the park? Go see a movie? Go to the zoo? He had gone to the zoo for Dudley's birthday just a few days prior but their visit had been cut short by the snake incident.
"Wonder were that snake got off to. Hope she's nice and warm, and happy." He thought, kicking at the dirt lightly, just enough to move him a bit but not enough to actually be swinging. "Now that she doesn't have to sit in a cage just so people can gawk at her at all day long, anyways. She was nice." He liked animals, animals were always nice to him. Save for Aunt Marge's dogs, at least – her dogs were vicious. But all of cats had liked him, even the big grumpy grey one . Of course, he supposed if he was named he would be pretty grumpy too. Even Piers' dog had liked him, and he'd been scared of him when he first met him. Piers' mom had asked Petunia if Dudley would like to get paid to check on it everyday for a week when Piers' family went on vacation last month. Dudley had chickened out and made Harry do it for him, so he could get paid without having to do any of the actual work.
Eventually Harry got hungry and he was forced to leave the park in search of something to eat. By this time, the sun was just beginning to dip below the rooftops. It was getting late, probably near dinner time. He had plenty of money, it was just a matter of deciding what he wanted to eat. He'd never had a choice before, and he'd never had the option to get as much as he wanted either. Now he could order as much as he wanted! No more Vernon ordering the cheapest, smallest meal for him and growling about the money being wasted on him, and no more Dudley trying to steal his food!
He walked several blocks out of the neighborhood and into town, finally settling on having some plain old fish and chips at a diner. He decided to eat his fish and chips at the tables outside because he just didn't feel comfortable inside the crowded, loud diner – too many people. Besides, he rarely got to go outside for anything save yardwork. By the time he was done with his chores he was usually too exhausted to do anything other than sit on the bed in his cupboard and try to catch a few minutes of whatever Dudley was watching on tv in the living room through the grate on his cupboard door. He liked that one show Dudley and his friends were into, Dragon Ball Z.
He ate and listened to the family sitting beside him chat animatedly, feeling bitter as he caught bits and pieces of their conversations, windows into a life he'd never had. The little girl was talking at length to the father – stepfather, he assumed, because she called him by his name – about a tv show, and he was listening somewhat attentively, nodding and talking back with her about it. A toddler was coloring at the table while his mother ate. 'Why do they get to be normal, why do they get to be happy? I'm just as important as anyone else, aren't I?' His hands curled into fists, starting to crush the paper cup he'd been given. 'I hate them. Why do they get to be happy but I don't? Why do I have to do the extra work just to get what they all just have? Its not fair!'
He felt the bandaged one's presence in his mind. "Why don't you just kill them? They would do the same to you as everyone else would. You know it. No one has ever liked you before." His hands relaxed. He wanted to feel powerful and alive again. He wanted to make them all pay for rejecting him. "Kill all of the selfish, greedy humans."
The toddler dropped his blue crayon on the ground, and it rolled away. "Uh-oh! I get it." The toddler climbed out of the chair and walked after the crayon. Thrusting his vectors out from his back, he pushed them at the toddler just as he was reaching for the blue crayon.
