Chapter Three: Survivor
A cold draft breezed into the damp dungeon, animosity clear in the sultry air. It was dark, dark as can be, where it would seem like a prison holding, blood splattered on the walls, fear rising. In a small black heap lay the body of an eleven-year-old; limp and unmoving precariously close to the edge of death. His countenance was etched with pain and shock, a figure of symbolism that proved dark.
In a split moment, his body shuddered and writhed in indescribable pain beyond pain. With a chilling breath, a surreptitious shadow crept into the dungeon floor and ruefully opened the door, all malign and malice gone from the drafty room. It seemed this shadow, a hero, turned away with irascible remorse. Inching its way to Harry Potter, prisoner, the shadow picked up the boy like he was precious china, and carried his way out. The whole world was holding it's breath as the two vanished into the twinkling night, violet sky and individual stars that shined with breathtaking hues. The sun was down, animals were asleep, some awake and being the prey or preying.
Harry stirred away with a groan and shrunk back from the touch, the warmth that he was in. He was cautious of anything, a tactic of survival. His eyes cracked open and blearily made out a dark figure with its hood up. His eyes wide with fear, he desperately tried to get on the ground on his own two feet. He cried out though, when his broken ribs brushed against the figure and collapsed, shuddering and breathing heavily.
"Who are you?" He whispered, pain evident in his voice. The figure tensed and slowly raised his head, shadows creeping along the lines of his dark facial expression. Still too dark to see properly, Harry noted.
"I'm here to save you." He whispered his voice rough without use.
"Who are you?" He repeated. He was suspicious and it didn't help he couldn't see the man's face. It... it reminded him of the black robed men that took him in Diagon Alley.
"Shh. Go to sleep." He whispered back, his heart tightening as the injured boy flinched in pain again. His eyes clouded in fury to the very people that took him captive and tried to forever damage his soul and mind. Though he couldn't see it, but the man's eyes were full of concern and deep love, something not many could see in others.
The darkness that surrounded them was bone shattering, and beautiful at the same time. From within the road came shadowy, misty figure, hooded and completely black. The man who was holding Harry froze in mid step and tensed, ready for flight. He turned away; his wand poised for attack, and ran. Ran like the wind, like his life depended on it, casting spells behind him. It was a beautiful enchanting storm of lights and sounds, yells and pounding adrenaline.
A tremendous explosion broke through the building tension in the air and shattered, hurling the figure and Harry back into a dark forest, forbidden and dangerously mysterious. The man fell unconscious, but Harry, who had been wide-awake and fearful, was trembling. Didn't the man say he was his savior? Then why had he left him, falling unconscious? Harry scrambled for the man's wand and stood, holding his wand out.
"Lumos." No one was there. He looked around and saw trees billowing in the night wind, chilly air that sunk into his skin and bit his bones like tigers. He hated himself. He hated himself. He hated himself...
"I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself..." He jumped when the figure stirred from the ground. His wand was drawn and he could see a man who would have been very handsome if it weren't for the dirt and grime that was on his face and the slight mustache that framed his mouth. His black hair was streaked with white, as if stress had finally caught up with him and effected him greatly. Harry nearly fell when the man spoke.
"Don't hate yourself." The man tried to stand. "Damn, that hurt. Are you okay?" Harry nodded his head and looked out of the forest into the dirt road.
"Where are we?" Harry asked quietly. He was still clutching the wand like it was his lifeline.
"Pioneer Creek." Harry cocked his head sideways and considered the man's answer for a moment.
"Where?" He finally asked, exasperated. The man chuckled and moved to stand up. Harry thrust the wand into the man's face.
"Don't move. Where is Pioneer Creek and who are you?" The man froze and slowly turned his head to him.
"Pioneer Creek is not in your world." He slowly said. Harry's eyes glazed over and he dropped the wand.
"Not in my world?" He repeated, not quite believing his answer.
"No, not on Earth. It's in another realm; the Conqueror's Circle of Fire took hostage of you and placed you in Poena's Harena. He lowered his head.
"I saw them take you and followed. They took a chunk of my pure magic supply and my energy. I needed to recuperate after traveling through the opening that took us here. I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner."
Harry's eyes blazed again, the light that had almost gone out during his time at Poena's Harena, was firing up and motivating him. He looked up and the man jumped when he saw his fierce eyes, full of torture and pain, hate and pure malevolence and most of all... suffering.
"They will pay."
Thanks for the reviews everyone and thank you, new readers and all the others who came back and checked it out. Off- kilter? By the way, anyone who can be a great beta- reader, contact me please? It would be great to have someone review my work and check it for me. Once again, thank you!!! Next week- who is the mysterious man? Muhaha
A cold draft breezed into the damp dungeon, animosity clear in the sultry air. It was dark, dark as can be, where it would seem like a prison holding, blood splattered on the walls, fear rising. In a small black heap lay the body of an eleven-year-old; limp and unmoving precariously close to the edge of death. His countenance was etched with pain and shock, a figure of symbolism that proved dark.
In a split moment, his body shuddered and writhed in indescribable pain beyond pain. With a chilling breath, a surreptitious shadow crept into the dungeon floor and ruefully opened the door, all malign and malice gone from the drafty room. It seemed this shadow, a hero, turned away with irascible remorse. Inching its way to Harry Potter, prisoner, the shadow picked up the boy like he was precious china, and carried his way out. The whole world was holding it's breath as the two vanished into the twinkling night, violet sky and individual stars that shined with breathtaking hues. The sun was down, animals were asleep, some awake and being the prey or preying.
Harry stirred away with a groan and shrunk back from the touch, the warmth that he was in. He was cautious of anything, a tactic of survival. His eyes cracked open and blearily made out a dark figure with its hood up. His eyes wide with fear, he desperately tried to get on the ground on his own two feet. He cried out though, when his broken ribs brushed against the figure and collapsed, shuddering and breathing heavily.
"Who are you?" He whispered, pain evident in his voice. The figure tensed and slowly raised his head, shadows creeping along the lines of his dark facial expression. Still too dark to see properly, Harry noted.
"I'm here to save you." He whispered his voice rough without use.
"Who are you?" He repeated. He was suspicious and it didn't help he couldn't see the man's face. It... it reminded him of the black robed men that took him in Diagon Alley.
"Shh. Go to sleep." He whispered back, his heart tightening as the injured boy flinched in pain again. His eyes clouded in fury to the very people that took him captive and tried to forever damage his soul and mind. Though he couldn't see it, but the man's eyes were full of concern and deep love, something not many could see in others.
The darkness that surrounded them was bone shattering, and beautiful at the same time. From within the road came shadowy, misty figure, hooded and completely black. The man who was holding Harry froze in mid step and tensed, ready for flight. He turned away; his wand poised for attack, and ran. Ran like the wind, like his life depended on it, casting spells behind him. It was a beautiful enchanting storm of lights and sounds, yells and pounding adrenaline.
A tremendous explosion broke through the building tension in the air and shattered, hurling the figure and Harry back into a dark forest, forbidden and dangerously mysterious. The man fell unconscious, but Harry, who had been wide-awake and fearful, was trembling. Didn't the man say he was his savior? Then why had he left him, falling unconscious? Harry scrambled for the man's wand and stood, holding his wand out.
"Lumos." No one was there. He looked around and saw trees billowing in the night wind, chilly air that sunk into his skin and bit his bones like tigers. He hated himself. He hated himself. He hated himself...
"I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself..." He jumped when the figure stirred from the ground. His wand was drawn and he could see a man who would have been very handsome if it weren't for the dirt and grime that was on his face and the slight mustache that framed his mouth. His black hair was streaked with white, as if stress had finally caught up with him and effected him greatly. Harry nearly fell when the man spoke.
"Don't hate yourself." The man tried to stand. "Damn, that hurt. Are you okay?" Harry nodded his head and looked out of the forest into the dirt road.
"Where are we?" Harry asked quietly. He was still clutching the wand like it was his lifeline.
"Pioneer Creek." Harry cocked his head sideways and considered the man's answer for a moment.
"Where?" He finally asked, exasperated. The man chuckled and moved to stand up. Harry thrust the wand into the man's face.
"Don't move. Where is Pioneer Creek and who are you?" The man froze and slowly turned his head to him.
"Pioneer Creek is not in your world." He slowly said. Harry's eyes glazed over and he dropped the wand.
"Not in my world?" He repeated, not quite believing his answer.
"No, not on Earth. It's in another realm; the Conqueror's Circle of Fire took hostage of you and placed you in Poena's Harena. He lowered his head.
"I saw them take you and followed. They took a chunk of my pure magic supply and my energy. I needed to recuperate after traveling through the opening that took us here. I'm sorry I couldn't help you sooner."
Harry's eyes blazed again, the light that had almost gone out during his time at Poena's Harena, was firing up and motivating him. He looked up and the man jumped when he saw his fierce eyes, full of torture and pain, hate and pure malevolence and most of all... suffering.
"They will pay."
Thanks for the reviews everyone and thank you, new readers and all the others who came back and checked it out. Off- kilter? By the way, anyone who can be a great beta- reader, contact me please? It would be great to have someone review my work and check it for me. Once again, thank you!!! Next week- who is the mysterious man? Muhaha