A/N: Hey guys! So much for the weekly updates! I think posting every 2-3 weeks is more realistic, although, the next three chapters are some of my favorite and will probably be out sooner depending on my work schedule. Anyways! Wow, what did you all think of Endgame? Crazy huh!? Okay, on with the story! This is another dialogue filled chapter so I'm sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy it. It's another long one! It's also a game changer. Of course, everything occurring in the story is happening for a reason so don't worry Romione fans! Also, you may have some questions after this chapter so feel free to message me about anything. I welcome them warmly. And consider following me on Tumblr – guyfawkesthephoenix. Please fav, follow, comment, whatever! Thanks for reading!
All rights go to J.K. Rowling and Valiant Comics
Gateways, Asylum – Deadside
"Hey, check your pocket. I think the bear is glowing," spoke Ron as he was looking at a bright beam of blue light emerging from Mike's jeans.
Mike stopped in his tracks, pulled out the bear and noted it to indeed be glowing the same bright aura blue as his eyes. "Well, shit. That saves us a lot of time then. Guess we can warp back here to the front door whenever we please. C'mon, let's go down through that opening."
The duo stood directly in front of the main entrance of the Asylum, appearing much like ants to a large boot next to the colossal tower. Funnily enough, the front door appeared normal in size for its tremendous stature, yet it was consciously locked and preventing them from getting inside. Next to the door appeared to be a metal stand, rectangular in shape, copper colored, and with a keyhole in the middle of it. Ron observed it curiously before being reprimanded by Mike to hurry along to the opening he was observing.
On either side of the entrance were small trap door-esque like openings on the ground, enabling them to enter through underground. Mike lifted the cover and noticed a green metal pipe like the one they traveled through previously. It could be used as a walkway beneath the Asylum which he noticed appeared much like sewers, except there was no water. Instead, lava surrounded the small pathway running in the same direction as the pipe, only a few feet beneath it.
"Ginger have a look at this."
Ron continued keeping surveillance of the courtyard as he moved over next to Mike and gazed inside the door on the ground. "Lava? You want us to go through there!? Are you mental!?"
"Shut up and listen! We can use that metal pipe to walk along this little passageway and into the tower. The lava looks to be two or three feet below the pipe so we should be okay. Just watch your fucking step."
"Oh bloody hell…" moaned Ron in displeasure.
The red head held up the door for Mike, enabling him to drop down below onto the metal pipe, landing with a clank. He had his gun pointed in both directions that the pipe ran through until he signaled Ron that the area was clear. With a deep breath, Ron dropped down below beside him, letting the door slam shut above him.
The underground passageway was no bigger than a traffic lane, and the ceiling was about the normal nine feet. Ron noticed the walls were made of the same murky green brick stone as the rest of the building. Their only light source was the burning lava below them, causing both men's pores to open and feel the scorching heat smack them across the face.
"Okay, let's see where this pipe takes us. Keep your wand at the ready. I don't know what the hell we'll run into down here. Keep your eyes open and don't fucking freeze, got that?"
"How can I freeze with flaming lava two feet below me?"
"Ginger…" started Mike with an annoyed tone.
"No, yeah, I got it. Don't freeze *cough* Won't freeze."
Mike shook his head in annoyance before heading in the direction that was left of the Asylum's main entrance. Small amounts of steam occasionally poured out of the sides of the pipe, warranting their careful steps. Eventually, the pipe made another left turn, which brought them to a much larger room underground. There were two stone pillars holding up the ceiling and across the pipe appeared another stone walkway that led up to a different route. Ron immediately noticed a Govi that was standing there.
"Mike! It's another one of those beehive-looking things! But how do we get across there?"
"We can't from here because of the fucking lava."
Mike looked around the room, but there was nothing else but lava in sight. He looked beyond the metal pipe that led to small rusty metal doors slamming together a few feet above. They were just as the doors they had seen before reaching the courtyard.
"Let's follow the pipe and go up through those doors. Maybe it'll lead us to that Govi."
Ron nodded and followed suit behind him, keeping vigilance for any sign of trouble that could head their way. He wiped the sweat from his brow as the excess heat of the lava began to get to him.
As they reached the slamming doors, Mike instructed him to carefully cross without being smashed, which earned him Ron's rolling eyes for pointing out the obvious. Both men easily traversed past the doors, leading them to an enclosed wooden corridor. After walking a few feet, the two were face with another set of slamming doors.
Timing correctly, the two crossed swiftly and found themselves in yet another large room, albeit this one much more lofty than the previous. Large metal pipes crossed the center of the room from the lava to the ceiling in a zig zag formation. More could be seen going around the perimeter of the room.
Ron glanced around the large room in awe. "Who the bloody hell designed this type of tower? Huge empty courtyard, sewer-like infested underground with lava; let me guess, sacrificial death chambers next?"
"I wouldn't doubt it. A god damn lunatic is sure to be behind this. It's a fucking maze down here. And it's beginning to get hot as fuck by the second. Shit, this even puts Louisiana to shame. Let's follow the pipe around the perimeter, there's another entryway at the end of it."
They made their way carefully around the metal pipes and lava, carefully avoiding the short bursts of steam that came on spontaneously from them. They found themselves at another stone corridor upon reaching the end of the pipes, leaving the lava filled underground behind. The corridor led them upward to a barred window at the end of the pathway, inciting interest from the two of them.
They looked through it carefully and noted a dark room a few feet below that reeked a fetid metallic smell. Ron became absolutely terrified upon peering at the sight below. His stomach curled and spine jerked, causing newfound panic in his eyes. "Mike…umm what the fuck is that?" pointed a horrified Ron to the small dungeon-type room below.
It was filthy. Both fresh and dry blood was smeared on the floor and walls. Little pieces of flesh and bone could be seen scattered around the dreadful room, and one of the corners contained chopped up corpses neatly stacked in a pile. Ron moved the back of his hand up to his nostrils to avoid the pungent smell, but it was useless. The foul smell of death could not escape his nose as his disgusted face could not bear to look down any longer.
Mike furrowed his brow as he stared down intently at the room. "Hmm…looks like a torture chamber. There's shackles on the walls. Guess you were right. This can't be good. Keep your wand ready. I have a feeling we're not alone. Let's continue through this way," motioned Mike to their right where the path continued. Ron continued grimacing with one last look at the room and happily followed suit. He couldn't begin to imagine the cruel and terrifying things that went on in that room and didn't want to stay to find out.
The hot air from the lava had finally cooled as they continued through the dim-lit pathway. A few steps away from the barred window showed another window sized opening into another torture chamber below them. Mike pushed Ron back as he noticed a wailer directly below, sitting calmly as if sleeping. He looked to Ron with his index finger against his mouth to keep quiet. They retracted away from the opening, causing Ron to shake his head in disbelief at the thought of dropping below into the torture chambers.
"There's a wailer down there. And the path ends here. You know what this means right?"
"Don't tell me…" spoke a clammy and nervous looking Ron who appeared to have the rays of sunshine sucked out of him.
Mike took a deep breath and nodded his head. "Yup."
"Bloody hell…what did I do to deserve this. Shit…alright…what's your plan?"
Mike retraced his steps back to the other torture chamber for a quick look and did the same with the next, hugging the wall as no to be seen by the wailer. "Those chambers down there have doors. We have to get past that demon silently to avoid being heard. We don't know what the hell else is on the other side. Not worth the risk of being ambushed."
"Right. Well, I can do a silencing charm, and immobilize it. Maybe that'll work?"
"Good idea. It's a weaker demon so maybe that curse will work. Lead the way then. I'll cover you from up here."
Ron closed his eyes tightly, took a deep breath and made his way to the opening with his chest pounding and palms sweating profusely. Mike was sure he heard Ron mutter several profanities under his breath, which he thought was amusing. The red head hugged the wall tightly and leaned over to have a good look at the demon. With a swish of his wand aimed at it, he muttered, "Silencio."
At this, the wailing demon became disturbed, finally looked up to where Ron was and stood, screaming ferociously without so much of a sound. "Petrificus Totalus," declared Ron as the white beam of light hit the demon directly on the chest, paralyzing it where it stood.
"Good job. Let's go, ladies first ginger," said Mike as he shoved Ron into to the chamber below without so much as a warning.
Feeling startled, Ron landed in a large pile of human skin that made a quirky sound upon landing. "Argghh! Fuck!" grumbled Ron as he was quick to get on his feet and dust himself off. He saw Mike land on the same pile below, looking at the flesh with curious expression. "You really are an arse you know that?"
"Quit your whining. It's just skin."
Ron scowled at him, still trying to clean the little pieces of flesh from his robes. "Still! Bloody disgusting! And that smell…Merlin's—"
But before he could finish his phrase, the Shadow Man quickly moved next to him, placing his hand over Ron's mouth and held his other index finger to his mouth, signaling him to be quiet and still.
Ron looked crossed and was about to protest when suddenly a loud squeal could be heard from beyond the door. The two men looked at each other before moving their gaze towards the door in apprehension. The squeal was heard again, albeit louder this time. Mike backed up away from Ron and held his hand out behind him, signaling him not to move or make a sound. He placed his head along the door, trying to discern the squeal that he had heard. It sounded much like the horrific sounds pigs made when they were slaughtered. He backed away from the door as he heard another more distant screech and aimed his gun to the door, prompting Ron to do the same with his wand.
But nothing ever came besides complete silence.
"Maybe we should take a look," whispered an antsy Ron.
Mike nodded and approached the door again carefully. It was handle less, but he noticed a button on the side of it and pressed it, causing the doors to split right open without notice. Mike quickly withdrew back, hugging the blood-filled wall and aiming his gun directly outside. Ron did a quick movement to hug the wall perpendicular to it and pointed his wand outside as well. They stood there, still, ready to blast anything that came their way, but not a sound was heard for minutes that began to seem like hours.
The unnerving unavoidable nothingness was beginning to get to Ron's head as he was trying hard not to let whatever monsters lurking around the corner hear the thudding in his chest. The lack of life to break the ragged breaths and the beating of a human heart. The silence was so lonely, a constant companion of Ron's innermost thoughts. Mike did not dare move a muscle neither, but he knew he had to inch closer and closer to have a good enough view to peek through the door.
He looked to Ron who nodded in acknowledgement and prepared to peer out of the door quickly. With a deep breath, Mike briskly peeked his head out. Nothing but an empty blood stained stone hallway lit by torches could be seen. There were no signs of vicious beasts or danger just yet. The hallway appeared much like a crypt with the shadows suffocating everything they touched, making the already jarring atmosphere much more frightening.
Mike looked outside for a good few minutes until he was certain the area was safe to head out into. "It's clear, c'mon," he motioned to Ron.
Starved for air, the red head gulped once more and followed him, stepping out into the hallway. Upon exiting, he noted that the right side was completely blocked by large metal bars, preventing them, again, from passing through. The left side had a similar looking small door a few feet away that he presumed was the other torture chamber they saw from before. Across the metal bars behind them followed the hallway into another path that eventually made a turn. Ron studied the walls carefully and was daunted at seeing so much blood spilled along the walls and the hard-stone floor.
Mike almost left him behind without a word as he passed the door to their left and continued through the hallway. Ron staggered quickly behind, looking in every direction to ensure they were still alone. The hallway did a turn and led them into another hallway with even more metal doors to either sides of them. Both men peered around the corner slowly to avoid being seen. But this one like the last was also empty. Nodding to each other in agreement, they soon stepped out and looked at each door curiously.
"More torture chambers?" whispered Ron inquisitively.
"Looks like it. Keep quiet and don't break your guard."
"I have a bad feeling about this…"
As the duo continued through the stone hallway plastered with blood they could hear demented shrieks of torment behind the doors. Ron felt nauseated at the smell of the underground filth and blood in conjuncture with the thought of someone or something suffering next door to him. He closed his eyes shut, trying but failing to ignore the disturbing noises that plagued his head. It's all a dream, all a dream. Only a nightmare. I'll wake up any second now. Just a dream. Not real. Not real! he thought to himself. But he never woke up as the tremors of panic were still inside him when he opened his eyes.
He stopped at a door to his right wanting to help whatever was on the other side, but Mike stopped him where he stood and aimed the gun directly to his head. With a shake of his head and a finger to his mouth for silence, he motioned for him to continue. Ron took one last look at the door and turned away remorsefully, still unable to ignore the wicked shrieks of utter terror.
They moved with caution to avoid being heard. As they made their way around a turn, they came to a particularly different looking door to their right. It was much taller than the rest they had seen. The door had a block triangle symbol that contained an eye in the center of it and a red light above. Ron observed the symbol curiously, knowing he had seen it before somewhere. His attention was then moved to a small window to the right of the door and he also noticed a similar rectangular metal stand next to it on the left, just as he had seen at the front entrance.
"Hmm… this door looks different. Take a look at this," said Ron while gazing interestedly through the window.
Mike looked through it and noticed it led into another tall room. Across from where they stood appeared a small trolley that had metal rails on the ceiling rather than the ground. It was stationed alongside a platform and looked like it could only move to the left-hand side of the room through a large tunnel, appearing much like the underground tube stations in London.
For a brief moment, Ron thought back to Hermione as she had taken him on trips via the tube in the past, much to his fascination. He shook away the thoughts after seeing yet another Govi near the trolley by its rear.
"Bloody hell, there's another one!" pointed Ron excitedly. "That's two already in such a short distance. Guess they really are here then."
Mike also recognized the Govi but what caught his interest was another tunnel behind the trolley. It was different than the hallways they were currently in as the walls were yellow orange in color. Ron seemed to notice it too as he followed Mike's gaze.
"What do you think is behind there?"
"Not sure," said Mike while observing the room carefully. "This door leads to a small walkway onto that platform there. But look below. Nothing but lava. That train cart must lead somewhere important. There's also another tunnel there on the other side. We have to find a way to open this. Let's keep going. Whatever was behind those doors back there may come out any minute. I don't want to be here when they do."
They continued traversing through the hallway, ultimately leading them into a small room, tall, but empty, save for yet another Govi in the center of the room. Behind it was a pedestal similar to the one they'd seen in the Chamber of the Ancients containing what appeared to be a gauntlet with a key at the end of it.
"Blimey, another one! At this rate we'll find them all in no time. And what's that?" pointed Ron to the mysterious gauntlet. He moved toward the strange item on the pedestal and picked it up. It was made of metal, bronze in color and felt a bit heavy to hold on one hand. "You don't think this is the key to open doors around here do you? Remember those metal box things next to the doors? They have keyholes in them. Maybe this will open it! That room into the trolley!"
Mike observed it carefully. He took it from Ron and placed his hand through it. "Hmm…it's a perfect fit. Worth a shot, I guess. It's a dead end here anyway. Let's try it, but first…" He took out his shadow gun and without warning to Ron blew the Govi open with a single blast, letting the Dark Soul present before them.
"Mike wait!"
But it was too late. Just as he held both hands to stop him, Mike reached over and touched the Dark Soul, engulfing his body within its burning flames. He shouted in pain as he got on his knees and jerked around, back arched, neck strained, and with his arms flailing spasmodically.
Ron was about to go towards him when suddenly he heard the same loud squeal as before stopping him in his tracks. He looked back in anticipation as his eyes were fixed at the hallway where they had come from. The squeal was heard again, although now coming much faster to them than before.
"Hey Mike…"
But the purple waves of darkness continued to flow through Mike's body, causing him to continue convulsing violently. Ron heard the loud squeal again, this time clearly right next to them. It resembled much like the ugly cries of slaughtered pigs as he heard before, only much more lucid, making Ron more uncomfortable by the second.
He began to step away from the hallway when suddenly two large monstrous humanoid creatures entered the room, growling savagely. Their growls made a sharp pitched noise that echoed though Ron's ears. It had been the squeal he'd heard. They appeared bare chested with large metal hooks coming out of their knuckles, and wore what appeared to be blood-stained gimp suits. Their black masks were covering their hulking face.
This was no game of hide and seek. Ron was rigid, putting statues to shame as he was caught in the crosshairs of the fierce gaze of the creatures. His legs trembled and breathing raced, unable to escape the hell hole they were now in.
"Umm…Mike…we…have…uhh…company…" uttered Ron while retreating steadily to the other end of the room.
Mike had been on all fours, still recovering from the evil power he consumed from the Dark Soul. He coughed and touched his chest, trying to regain his strength and compose himself. He looked up at the monstrosities before him and upon seeing his face they roared ostentatiously. The sound embodied rage, a promise of death coming swiftly. The Shadow Man could be seen, glimmering in the gloom, grey and bent, like a wizened tree before the onset of a storm.
And then the two beasts charged with another loud squeal, galloping to both men's impending doom with wild swings of their metal hooks.
"Mike! Shit!" yelled Ron as he was unable to perform a shield charm in time. But Mike had reacted and pulled out the one thing that could save them in that moment. The last thing Ron remembered was seeing a bright blue beam of light encompassing the room before it turned to an empty void. He was sure that he had died.
August 27, 2000 (6:29 pm)
Undisclosed Location – London, England
It had been mere minutes before John had left Hermione alone, but to her it had felt like an eternity weeping in utter darkness. The loneliness was a vice in her heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. She couldn't control herself. She felt like paper chains in the rain and knew the sky held nothing but promise of more storms. Her world turned empty and cold, like a slow poison for the soul. She reflected over her futile attempts to escape. She had tried everything. For being such a brilliant witch, she was clueless in that given moment. Hermione was not the type to ever give up in a bad situation, yet, her worst fears had come true. She had failed and was alone to suffer through it.
Her thoughts went to the safety of her parents, of Ron, Harry, and the rest of her newfound family and wondered for a brief moment if anyone was even searching for her at all. Being trapped by herself in the filthy room to be alone with her thoughts took her back to when she was tortured by Bellatrix. Her emotions waved high with an undefined pitch. She began suffering such inquietude that she now anticipated it, being tortured once more, though now more on a psychological level than anything.
She tried to focus on the happy times, but it was useless. Her warmth dwindled as she was unable to escape the abyss she was drowning in. The rest of the world could be seen, drifting farther and farther away as teardrops made up her ocean. They fell into her parted lips and stuck to her eyelashes. Her head was tilted forward in defeat, her bushy masses covering her teary face. She was lost. Succumbed to whatever horrors awaited her.
She then remembered something Ron had told her while she went back to school for her seventh year. He had mentioned she was not made to be fighting, despite her cunning skill, courage and brilliance. And while she agreed to some extent, she never fully accepted that statement as deep inside she wanted to prove to him that she was indeed a fighter. Perhaps not a physical fighter, but one nonetheless. Yet, now, she felt impractical and broken.
Then suddenly, a horrifying sound of multiple demonic voices combined into one spine-chilling tone spoke to her. She was not prepared to heed such a malicious sound.
"Stop your senseless whimpering and listen to what I have to say," spoke the voice in the darkness.
Hermione jerked her head up feeling startled, scanning her eyes side to side to look for the sound of the fiendish voice. She could not take much more. Her heart was threatening to burst forth from her ribcage.
"I see right through you Hermione Granger. Your fears, your failures, your suffering. Such pity. Tell me. How does it feel to be dead?"
Hermione shook where she sat, trembling in fear as her heart continued pounding while her stomach twisted into a knot. Her fists were clenched behind her back, until the nails dug into her hand. She didn't dare speak a word. It was not like she could anyway. Only a slight muffling sound was heard that escaped her lips.
"Oh, pardon me."
With a wave of the voice's hand, the silencing spell that was placed on Hermione was removed, enabling her to hear her own sniffling and gasps for air.
"Oh my god…where am I!? Who's there!? Please…please don't hurt me…" she stammered while curling her petite frame closer to the chair.
The voice in the darkness seemed amused as it gave a short snicker. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to…help you. Yes. I'm here to ease your fears and give you what you desire."
"Please…please just let me go. Please, I beg you!" insisted Hermione, utterly distraught and perturbed.
"Like Peirce told you. You have nothing to fear. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help."
The more she heard the voice speak, the more anxious she became by the minute. It didn't sound natural. It wasn't like any human voice. No, this had an immoral and diabolical hint to it, sending more chills down her spine.
"Help!? You can help by letting me go! Please! I'm of no worth to you!" The tears continued to spill out of her eyes like a broken faucet and such brittleness was croaked in her voice.
"Oh but you are. You have no idea. No idea just how much. You are everything to me. And you will succeed. The prophecy has spoken."
At this Hermione tilted her head back in mix of curiosity and fluster. "What?" She could hear the thudding of some footsteps pacing back and forth from behind her.
"Yes. You are the key to my great dark engine. The key to invigorating the souls across my armies in Deadside."
"I don't understand! I don't know what you're on about! I'm just a witch trying to do some good in the world! Please! Just let me go!"
"You will do good. For me. Yes. I can guarantee it."
She noticed the thudding of steps move from her periphery directly in front of her. She was now able to catch a glimpse of the figure appearing much like a tall man. He was holding something between his hands, but she was unable to see as the shadows engulfed the room.
"I'm quite fond of the darkness here, but it seems I have to show you the light."
With a quick snap of his fingers, dazzling light came on above them, blinding Hermione for a quick second. She quickly recovered and faced the floor. She perceived small geometric shapes floating around her vision as her eyes attempted to adjust to the sudden brightness. Shifting her gaze around the room she noticed the walls were murky green and made of stone, same as the floor. The ceiling had large metal pipes above that went through the walls. But the sight that made her feel the lump in her throat again was the man that stood before her.
She stared horror-struck and appalled at the man's persistent spill of blood from his mouth and his ice cold blue eyes. She gulped and didn't dare gawp at the man any longer out of fear of his presence.
"Who—who are y-you?" she asked nervously, stumbling over her words.
The man tilted his head to the side as if carefully distinguishing every detail of her to his memory. "My name is Legion. For we are many."
At hearing his name Hermione did a once over at the man, now petrified as ice flowed through her veins. The world was crumbling apart around her. She no longer shook. She just sat there in total paralysis at hearing the familiarity of his name.
It seemed like hours, but only seconds before Hermione finally found the courage to speak. "It's…you. The man my father attended to in his office. Oh my god…no…please…don't tell me. Please! Don't hurt them! They've done nothing wrong!"
"I'm not just a man Hermione. I'm…more. And I don't think I have, yet."
"Please…not my parents…" she mumbled as every hope she once had was swallowed into the abyss.
"I will do what I must. And you will too. Willingly or unwillingly, you will serve my purpose and fulfill the prophecy."
"No…I-I don't know what you're on about…"
The man moved his right arm out in front of him, palm facing Hermione's frame. "It's too late. Always has been. Always will be. Too late."
And with his last words Legion waved his hand in front of Hermione, producing a violent roar of screams that turned into a purple Dark Soul, immersing her complete body. Hermione screamed in pain as the waves of darkness flickered through into her core, causing her to quake furiously in her seat.
Legion smiled at the frightening display until her body went limp and she lost consciousness. The wicked man snapped his fingers, breaking the invisible shackles she was placed in and levitated her body with a simple gesture of his right hand. She rose from the chair and drifted afloat, as if being suspended by unseen wiring from the ceiling.
Legion observed her closely before placing his palm onto her forehead, letting one last bit of purple hues enter her head. He waved his hand once more, bringing her body back down into the chair. She was bent forward again, letting her hair hang out in front of her.
With a snap of his fingers, he spoke, "Rise."
Hermione slowly lifted her head, hair still out in front of her in such a tangled mess. She was motionless and empty, but something was different about her. She no longer seemed full of life and emotion and instead appeared puppet-like, as if in a trance.
"Stand," spoke the menacing blend of demonic voices.
Hermione did as she was told, her face now fully visible. Her doe brown eyes, now filled with a chilling ghostly tinge, faced the floor, defunct and without emotion. Hermione was gone, replaced by an uncanny empty shell too numb to feel the pain anymore, her soul now condemned into a spiritual void.
"You will send a message to Mr. Weasley in Deadside convincing him of your safety as well as Mr. Potter's. You will find the use of a wand will not be required. You are still yourself. The same brilliant and bright witch of your age. Only better. The Dark Soul I entrusted you with now fuels your vitals to bursting. They will come for you. See to it that they carry on with the prophecy. You shall not fail…"
At this, Hermione shifted her eyes to face Legion. With a blunt and dispassionate tone she said, "For we are many…"
Legion gave a wicked smile, before disappearing into nothingness.
"Amen to that."
August 27, 2000 (6:33 pm)
Whitechapel Station – London, England
Harry quietly maneuvered his way down the stairs deep into Whitechapel Station, looking past the crowds of muggles for any signs of the serial killer. As he reached the bottom he searched for the area where the body of Marie Nicholas, the latest muggle who was unfortunately killed at the hands of Jack the Ripper's impersonator, was previously inspected.
After making the connections in the files with Hermione's account, Harry had discerned the best place to look for clues was to start where the latest victim was murdered. Of particular interest was the mention from Hermione that the killer had to catch a train to see his sister as his file supported evidence that he abducted women in the late and early hours of underground stations. This made Harry suspect that he would indeed be coming back to the places where he committed murder. He and Ron had been searching the wrong stations when tasked by Robards and should have instead looked back to the scenes of the crimes.
Nevertheless, Harry was unsure why any criminal would want to return to the scene of the crime, but still placed his faith in knowing the killer was surely in Whitechapel. He also understood he had come to the station rashly and into possible danger, but he had the cloak with him and knew he had to rely on himself to find Hermione.
Continuing forth, Harry was careful to avoid touching any muggles to not give away his presence, which proved to be a bit difficult with the crowds walking by in both directions simultaneously. He finally reached the spot where Marie Nicholas' body laid, knelt down to examine the floor and performed an analysis charm, looking for any changes since his last visit. After a few seconds, the analysis came back clean, making him frown in disappointment. He studied his surroundings closely and looked up to the sky, which he noticed was beginning to get gloomy.
He then remembered the scrawl that had been written on the entrance to the tunnel near another stop and headed for it. With the cloak over him he traversed carefully, continuing to scan his periphery for any signs of the serial killer. Though, this too proved difficult as he had no idea if the man he was looking for resembled anything like the artist's impression photo from the files.
As he reached the entryway, he noticed the scrawl on the wall was gone. He glared at the brick wall and muttered some unpleasantries under his breath in bitterness, shaking his head in annoyance. He looked at the wall again and failed to notice the small symbol of an eye inside a block shaped pyramid, which he now stared at curiously.
"I've seen that symbol before, but where? Robards must've had the Aurors remove the writing out of suspicion."
Harry rubbed his chin as he was lost in deep thought, trying to recall the familiarity of the symbol. He then remembered something and pulled out the serial killer reports. He moved quickly out of people's way and sat on a nearby bench, searching through the files quickly. He read the same poem that was previously on the wall from Jack's file, and noticed the same pyramid symbol next to it.
"I guess I saw the symbol on this report. But I know I've seen it somewhere else…"
Harry then rummaged through the other files and tried to make more connections, hoping for something that would lead him to Hermione's whereabouts. He knew he was running out of time and was afraid to be contacted by Ron again. He had to find details pertaining to her safety and fast. He looked over and read each killers' poems, trying to make sense of a possible hidden meaning behind them.
"The Lizard King shall lead the Five—
From out of the southern gaol shall cut his
bloody swathe.
True hate shall find a way—in Him the
darkness stands revealed,
His eyes as void as a dead man's gaze,
As cold as the light from a dying star.
For in the western deserts He finds a form—
He is the Child with the Mouth of Blood,
The bleakness before the Beginning of Time,
He is the glint of ice in a murderer's eye,
The savage heart of every crime.
And lo, if War should have a face,
This one of Five would show the bleeding mask:
Ears pricked to savor every scream,
Teeth bared to strip the carcass wet,
And tongues to lap the vessels dry.
From the east the idiot monster cometh,
With nails to announce the blasphemous intent.
In still dark chambers it awaits the Shadow—
Ebon body, scars of power—
Dark Messiah with a hideous strength.
"The Watchers at the Gate of Souls shall make the Way.
The Five are red in tooth and claw.
The head, the heart, the hands, the teeth, the eyes
All combine to create the Five
For We Are Many…"
Harry became distraught and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What the hell does all this rubbish mean?" He sighed and continued looking through the files, looking up every few seconds for anything out of the ordinary. He stared intently into the artist's impression photo of Jack and studied the names of the women he had killed.
"Anna Chaplin, Shoreditch Station. Eliza Strider, Aldgate East Station, Katrina Eddison, Aldgate Station, Marie Nicholas, Whitechapel Station. Hmm… they're all on the East End of London. Maybe I should look into those stations. But with all these muggles at this time, and the fact that he only strikes at night, no…I'm not gonna find anything. And I just can't wait until nightfall! Please Hermione…be safe…where are you?"
Harry even performed a charm to examine the last spell used by her wand, but it was no help and gave no indication of her location. She's compromised. I have to inform the rest of the team. She's in danger. he thought.
As Harry was venting to himself in annoyance and thinking about the next course of action, he failed to notice the man that passed behind him with the thick chevron mustache carrying a briefcase. The man looked to the bench where Harry sat, which appeared empty as if no one was there to his eyes, but for some reason he knew and could feel Harry's presence.
He walked along to the next platform some distance away, facing his back towards Harry as if waiting for the next train. "My master was right. He knew Potter would be here. I can't see him, but it's him, I can feel it. Well then, let's give him a clue to his friend, shall we?"
John cleared his throat and began to strike up a conversation with a muggle woman next to him, albeit rather loudly. "Umm, evening!" he said a little too loudly with a smile to the woman. She appeared slightly taken aback at the sudden greeting, but returned the hello with a bitter smile.
"Ah! Fine day, isn't it? Good day to ride the tube! Yes, indeed!"
The woman continued to look unsure of herself, maintaining her awkward expression. "I suppose so…"
John shifted his gaze towards where Harry sat for a moment and began talking louder. "So sorry! I'm a bit hard of hearing! It's good to travel by tube today isn't it!?"
The woman made a sour expression, lifted an eyebrow, and covered her right ear for a moment. "Sir, you don't have to yell." She began to look annoyed and proceeded to ignore John.
This earned her an apologetic look from him that she failed to notice. "So sorry! What was that!?"
But the woman stopped responding and waved him off, clearly irritated with him. The rest of the muggles waiting on the platform also gave him displeased looks at his obnoxious shouting.
John face them and spoke loudly again. "Sorry! I'm visiting my sister! And I'm just bloody thrilled to see her again! Her name is Hermi—"
"Look mate, we don't care! Can you shut the bloody hell up! For goodness sake, you're killing us here. Please! Some quiet if you may!? We're just trying to catch the tube," spoke an overweight angry muggle man that was next to him.
John placed his arms in the air as if understanding to stop and quickly made his away from the platform and in the direction of the stairs. He did not dare look back, but knew all too well that Harry had been observing the little fiasco he started.
As soon as John began speaking loudly, he caught Harry's interest who began listening on intently. At the mention of having to catch a train to see his sister, Harry had quickly risen from his seat and walked toward the other platform, wand gripped tight in tow. He hadn't seen John's face as his back side was still toward him, but knew it had to be him.
Harry became astonished at the fact that the strange man was rearing to say Hermione was his sister, the last straw in the manner. But due to the frequency of muggles passing through and those near him, Harry was unable to act deliberately. He waited until the man began walking away after being scorned by the muggles and Harry quickly followed suit.
Passing smoothly around the muggles in opposite directions he continued up the stairs, trying not to lose the man out of his sights. A few more steps to the top, John had hastened his pace and for a brief moment, was out of Harry's focus, causing him to bolt up the remaining stairs.
Upon reaching the top Harry had his wand out in front of him, no longer caring who saw him curse the man. But in scanning his surroundings, John was nowhere to be found. "You've got to be joking…no, no, no!" He quickly ran around the small area looking frantically around, but no sign of the killer was found.
Thinking quickly, Harry aimed his wand at the ground beneath the cloak, and exclaimed, "Appare Vestigium!" while turning in a circular motion. A swirl burst of gold light emanated from his wand and lit up the floor, revealing magical footprints a few feet away.
"I've got you now you bloody tosser…"
Harry followed the steps that eventually led him around a corner of the station and into the loo. Frowning to himself, Harry entered briskly, wand at the ready to hex the man into oblivion. He looked around the loo for signs of the individual and found that it was empty. The tracks stopped at one of the stalls which he opened carefully, wand aimed directly inside.
But no one was there, making the rage inside Harry build, causing him to slam the door vehemently. "Fuck! No…no…where'd he go!?" he yelled as he pulled the cloak off. Just as he was about to survey the area, a particular item of interest caught his attention.
"What's this?"
It was the briefcase John was carrying. Harry opened the stall door open again and picked it up. It had no lock. Curiously, Harry looked around the loo before knowing it was clear to look inside. But upon opening it, his world was thrown for a loop. He was sucked straight into it and Harry felt as though a hook just behind his naval had suddenly jerked irresistibly forward.
It was a portkey. His field of view turned on its side and swirled rapidly with a sharp noise heard in the distance. A few seconds later, the swirling stopped and Harry landed on his back, gasping for air. He sat up quickly and gripped his wand out in front of him.
As he recovered, he dusted himself off and surveyed the dark area that the briefcase had brought him too. It was a small room, ill-lit, and mucky, with the foul stench from the sewers slap him in the face.
"Oh, don't tell me…"
"Hello Harry," spoke a soft voice behind him, causing him to turn speedily.
Upon seeing who it was his jaw dropped in horror. Harry felt a lightning crackle through his veins and at that moment time stopped. He couldn't believe who it was.
Marrow Gates – Deadside
Ron's head throbbed as he finally opened his eyes, attempting to view his surroundings. Feeling disoriented and sore throughout his body he massaged his temple with his hand, while using the other to sit up.
"A bit banged up, are we?" spoke a familiar Irish accent.
Ron rubbed his eyes to see the slithering figure around him.
"What's the matter lad? Hit your head too hard on the landing, I see."
"Arghhh…my head…bloody…where am I?"
"Well at the Marrow Gates of course! Didn't expect to see the two of you back so soon!"
Ron blinked rapidly while trying to compose himself despite feeling lightheaded and confused. The last thing he recalled was seeing a bright blue light encompass the room in the dark tower before being surely mauled to death by savage beasts.
"I'm alive?"
The serpent slithered around him, while giving a short laugh. "Of course you're not lad! This be Deadside of course! We're all dead!"
Ron shut his eyes tight and massaged his forehead. "Very funny. Where's Mike? What happened?"
"Right here," spoke a raspy tone some feet away.
Upon opening his eyes he saw the Shadow Man with crossed arms by the large fangs in front of the gates. His gaze was away from Ron and towards the dark black tower that could be seen in the distance. Ron looked to it as well and was more than happy that they had left that dreadful place.
"Mikey here tells me you've been inside! Quite awful I imagine."
Ron finally stood, still massaging his head in pain. "That place is an abomination, worse than any nightmare I've had. But wait, what happened? How are we here?" the red head asked.
Mike pulled out the teddy bear from his pocket and showed Ron while giving it a good shake. "Saved your life thanks to this. But we must go back," he implored, which caused Ron and Jaunty to turn their heads in unison.
Ron gave Mike the finger. "You're mental. Did you not see what the fuck was going on down there? Not bloody likely that I'll be going back."
Jaunty slithered along towards Mike's ebony shape. "Well it looks like the young wizard here has spoken! Too much for him, perhaps?"
"Too much!? It's a fucking mad house! More dreadful than even the most twisted mind could have imagined! Fuck I thought the atmosphere here was bad, no fucking way! This place here is sunshine and daisies compared to the tower!" As he vented he felt the pain in his head throb more, making his pain more unbearable.
"Ginger, I told you to be ready for the worst. Even I agree it's psychotic. A total antithesis of the world. But the place is filled with Dark Souls that we need. Every second we don't act those killers get closer to bringing those armies across to Liveside. Jaunty, that's why I brought us here. Surely you must know something about where to look."
"Me?" asked the snake sarcastically, arching his body back.
Mike uncrossed the arms and walked towards the serpent, which caused it to retreat. "Jaunty, don't play games now. We've found the prophecy. Nettie informed us that we have to find a way to reach the Five from within that dark tower. I guess it's called the Asylum? That's what the cards say anyway. It would seem that the serial killers Thomas Deacon profiled for use are, indeed, preparing for the crossing over of the Dark Soul armies. I know that you and I may pass freely between the worlds of Deadside and Liveside, but what of the Five? How is that they have been able to journey across the veil from the Asylum to their Liveside lairs?"
Jaunty was finally backed up into a corner, before he slithered around Mike back towards the fangs out of fear of being pummeled. "Mmm…well there was that little incident with Tommy Lee's undead gang a while back…seemed like an aberration at the time. But, thinking about it, could've been a trial run. Y'know, this may sound crazy, but I think you should be looking for a corpse – or five of them."
Ron appeared confused. "Five corpses? What for?"
Jaunty continued. "The way I see it, you trap two souls and keep 'em in a state of flux between the worlds – one in Deadside, the other Liveside. Neither can cross over from one plane of existence to the next, nor pass on beyond. Ergo, a schism, or bridge is formed between the worlds. So, yes, you're looking for five ritually slaughtered corpses somewhere in the Asylum."
Ron and Mike looked at each other skeptically and then at Jaunty with ludicrous expressions at hearing his simple minded words.
Mike was the one to speak. "Jaunty, there are a great many corpses in the Asylum you idiot."
"Granted – but these'll be special in some way – in a special place. Of course, if you do manage to find your way across to these psycho-loonies, you better have your shadow powers at the ready…I got a feeling you're going to need 'em."
Ron still looked at the snake as if he had grown an extra head. "So that's your big advice then? Look for five corpses in a fucking place where there's literally hundreds? Let's just hang ourselves by the bollocks now, why don't we? I mean where do we even star—"
At this, an idea popped into Ron's head. "Bloody hell…Mike! That room! The one with the trolley cart inside. I'll bet you anything that'll lead us to where we have to go."
"How could you be sure?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm not, exactly, but it's worth a shot. I told you it had a key slot in that metal box thing that was next to it. We'll have to use the key gauntlet thing that we found. The only problem is those fucking pig-like creatures in gimp suits."
"Gimp suits?" asked jaunty with a disgusted skull face.
"These fat green creatures with hooks on their arms. They have these black suits and masks. I've never faced enemies like them. If I hadn't brought us here, we'd be cut up surely," said Mike. "I have to increase my shadow powers…but I can't do that if I'm here talking bullshit!"
Ron was lost in thought as he was thinking intently about their venture inside the underground of the Asylum. His head was discombobulated and could not get over the fact that they needed to go back to that demented place. He remembered the filth, the horror, the terrifying noises of torture and squeals of monsters that lurked beyond. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.
Mike spoke again. "I have an idea. And you're not gonna like it Weasley."
"What is it?" Ron asked apprehensively.
Mike pulled out the gauntlet with the key on its end. "The front entrance had a similar keyhole thing as the other door leading to the trolley. What if we open it first?"
Ron scowled. "Through the front gate? Are you mad!? They'll be expecting us! Shit what if security has doubled by now? They know we've been there!"
"I know, but it may lead us to more Govi. It can give me a chance to increase my powers. I have a feeling the spells you've used up until now might not work on those hook things. Besides, this key might not even work on the door to the trolley. It's not worth the risk heading all the fuck back down there again. C'mon we gotta do this."
Ron continued to look fed up with narrowed eyes, rigid posture and pinched expression. "How the hell—"
But Ron was never able to finish his sentence as he saw a lightning fast jolt of silver blue light bounce around the entrance to the Marrow Gates. Both men and the serpent looked at it intently as it continued moving around. Mike pulled out his gun in defense, but Ron pushed his hand down, knowing all too well what the light was.
He walked steadily to the center of the small area in between the pits of fire where the light finally came to a stop. It took the shape of an otter at Ron's feet, making his heart pound harder than it ever did in the tower. But it was not out of fear, but instead happiness. He smiled, with slight tears of delight forming at the edge of his eyes.
"Ron?" Called out Hermione's voice from the silver blue light.
Jaunty was about to slither along to get a closer look but was stopped by Mike, who shook his head at him, leaving Ron to observe for himself.
"Hermione…" uttered a gleeful and grinning Ron, wiping the tears that had formed. To him it had felt like an eternity since he last made contact with Hermione and couldn't be happier than to see her patronus floating around. He fell to his knees and moved his touch through the light.
"Ron. I'm safe. I'm with Harry. Please don't worry. We're still trying to help you from our end. I'm so proud of you Ronald. Please, never forget that. Continue with your mission. Get all the Dark Souls and quickly! Time's running out! I love you…stay safe."
And with her last words, a frown was formed on Mike's face. Jaunty noticed this and he too looked on at the light coolly, sensing something was off.
Ron noticed the light turned back into the otter who remained still in front of him. Knowing what it was waiting for, Ron took his wand and gave it a swish, forming his own Jack Russell Terrier patronus right next to the otter. He smiled blissfully at the scene that took place. The little dog began chasing after the otter in circles, making Ron laugh for the first time since his arrival to Deadside.
Jaunty looked at Mike with a curious expression and edged close to him near his ear. "What the hell was all that about," he whispered.
Mike shrugged. "Something doesn't feel right. Those messages and that type of magic shouldn't work here. It's built on happy memories. But look at where we are, infinite limbo, darkness, nothingness, evil. It doesn't make sense."
"You're sensing voodoo is at play?" asked Jaunty while looking at Ron hesitantly.
But Mike didn't say a word as he continued staring at Ron's backside who didn't seem to care to be seen reminiscing over the good times he had with Hermione in the desolate place of Deadside.
"Are you gonna tell him?"
"No. He needs this spark. He was pretty shaken up back there in the tower. We still have a job to do. I'll just keep an eye out for any outer interference. You contact Nettie and update her on the plan."
"Will do!" said the snake as they continued looking at Ron play like a little boy with both patronuses.
After a few seconds the otter began increasing its pace away from the terrier, wisped up into the air and vanished, leaving the terrier to look around frantically for it. Ron's smile faded at the display. The terrier gazed above to the dark green clouds, before coming back to Ron with a saddened expression. Not long after it too vanished.
With a deep breath, Ron finally stood, gripped his wand tightly and turned to face Mike and Jaunty. "It's settled then. Let's go back. Through the front door. I'm ready now."