This snippet into everyday Deatheater life is brought to you by the movie Battle Royal and the number 42
I own Nothing, well I do have quite a bit of bills, but I doubt that counts.
Sean quivered in excitement. He'd just joined the Deatheater ranks and the excitement of finally giving those filthy muggles what they deserved surged through his veins. He was proud to have been appointed to this task. Apparently this particular muggle had captured the Lord's interest and wanted the man killed quietly. The fact that his senior deatheaters trusted him enough with this task had him beaming.
The other deatheater on this little venture walked with a similar bounce in his step. They neared the door to the innocent looking house. Remembering that they were told to be discrete, Eric waited a step behind indicating for the other to open the door. He heard the other whisper a feminine alohomora. Apparently his partner in crime was a woman.
They closed the door softly after entering. Charles took a quick glance about the room. The furniture was sparse in the spacious abode. A table with a translucent bag sitting on one of its corners rested about half a meter away from a dark brown couch. A stair climbed its way up to the left side, while a strange box rested on a small platform two or three meters from the couch. The two stepped back into the shadows of the entryway when footsteps were heard descending the stair.
Their victim came into view. His face was slightly flushed while his black hair was plastered to his face and neck with sweat. He had a white towel hanging over his shoulders and was wearing funny looking clothes. As the man walked by, George stepped from his concealment
"Avada Kedavra." He said it swiftly and efficiently. A grin plastered itself under his white face mask when the green light slammed into the back of the man and he fell flat onto his nose. Still as stone.
The two deatheaters were about to leave when a shrill trilling caught their attention. It was really annoying and as they looked around for the source the body on the floor grunted and stood up. Robert was so shocked that he couldn't move a muscle. He hit the man. He did, he saw it, his fellow deatheater must have seen it too. It was impossible to survive. These thoughts were racing through his mind at lightning speed, but they kept circling and wouldn't leave. His muscles seemed to have turned to stone and his mind dulled by the unrealness of the situation. His fellow deatheater must have been in a similar state for she didn't move either.
They watched in utter stillness as the man reached the couch, fished around in the cushions and pulled out a small black box that the noise seemed to be coming from.
"Hello," his voice was gruff and he paused for a moment, "No, I'm never going to return," another pause, "I don't care what you have to say, I'm leaving for good." With that he threw the box, it landed near the Deatheaters. He then pulled out a small black thing from a pocket and aimed it at the box. A loud crack later the little box shattered and smoke rose from some of the parts. The man looked at the translucent bag and pulled a small cookie from it. He grunted and in a wistful voice said, "The last cookie," put it in his mouth, then slumped over dead.
This, it seemed was enough to break Louis and his cohort from their paralysis.
"What in Merlin's name just happened. You killed him, I saw it, you saw it, it happened." Joseph could see hysteria in the brown eyes that peered through the white mask into his own.
"I don't know. He died, he had to, I've preformed the spell countless times before." His voice wasn't very confident. He grabbed her arm, "Calm down, it doesn't matter, the man's dead now. We've served the Dark Lord. Nothing's going to come of this." He took a calming breath and shook the woman's shoulders as a way of reassuring himself. "Neither one of us needs to mention this, this didn't happen." Gary could see that he wasn't having an effect on the woman her eyes were darting back and forth and she was hyperventilating. He did the only thing he could think of. Luckily for him she was too out of it to notice him raise his wand at her.
"Obliviate"
There, now he would be the only one who had to live with the knowledge of this incredibly unusual experience.
The end
Author's note:
Because Wolf-in-hell requested, I will make an author's note and give an explanation. This story came about
because I saw the movie Battle Royal. In the movie, a man is shot with a fully automatic weapon and falls
over dead. A few minutes later his phone rings, he gets up off the ground, answers it, eats a cookie and then
falls over dead . . . again. I wrote this snippet to try to get over the incredulousness, or at least spread the
confusion. I could try to come up with more story to explain it. But people have to want it.