QLFC Season 8, Practice Round: Eloquence - beauty and persuasion in speech

Captain, Chudley Cannons. 977 words.

The Big Machine

Tom Riddle had once again captivated his audience. The world-famous businessman with controversial ideas was gaining support wherever he went. London, Paris, Rome, and now even New York. People simply kept falling over their feet to hand their money over at the promise of fame and glory.

Of course, it was all baloni. Tom was nothing but a good speaker, knowing exactly how to twist his words to convince them that they wanted what he wanted. They'd only discover the truth when it was too late. He would have enough money and enough supplies to put his plans into place. He'd also have the people to do it.

How good was he?

On this warm summer evening in New York, thousands - maybe hundreds of thousands - of people had flocked to Times Square to see the great Tom Riddle. He stood atop the podium they had given him, talking, charming, and explaining how if they handed over all their money, they'd be part of something great in the coming months.

A time machine, he told them. A time machine. And they believed him.

Photoshopped videos of the future had them convinced that he really had seen the year 2985. Photos with himself inside, computer generated advanced technology popping up, making them seem real. People in suits. It was all it took for a group of desperate people to believe that time travel actually did exist.

"But I cannot possibly fund this on my own," he said to them, smiling, waving his hand at the screen. "I know some may be sceptical of such a device, but I can assure you, I have seen the future, and it is good. Those movies lie. We, as humans, merely get better. The people almost one thousand years from now live in a world free of disease, free of war. We are at peace."

Of course, there really are those who are sceptical. He watches them drift away, muttering, rolling their eyes. They don't matter. They're but a small number. The vast majority stare up in awe, whispering to each other, excited.

"A time machine large enough to fit a million people at one time. Who needs this world when the one we see in the future is so much better?"

They don't stop to think that if everyone were to go to the future - if that were even possible - there'd be no one left to make the future he promised them. Humans were selfish. They were stupid. That didn't matter.

After his speech, notes were thrown at him, promises of bank deposits were made. After New York, he was swimming in money. Enough to make something large enough to blow up the wretched city that he now stood in.

These idiots had no idea what they were doing.

He continued his tour around the world, gaining momentum, gaining popularity, with every new city. He could speak the language of the people - figuratively and literally - and within six months, he had it all.

He'd been wrong. He'd predicted two years, but the people had been stupider than he'd anticipated. Now was his chance to make an impact on this world.

An everlasting impact in a place that had abandoned him. His mother on that cold New Year's Eve. His father who never even knew he existed. Those in the orphanage. Those at the school he'd spent seven years at.

He didn't need friendship, love, acceptance, but he still hated them for not giving it to him.

So now he had the power to end it all. For everyone. These people thought they had won a lifetime experience of travelling to the future. And once they were onboard the 'time machine' Tom would press the button.

BOOM.

That would be the end of many loveless, selfish, hateful people.

After the incident, those remaining would be too scared to argue with him. He'd have the rest of the world at his feet, trembling at his sheer presence. Gone would be the idea of countries, cities, or whatever, and rise would a new world.

One which he ruled over entirely. One where you didn't need other people to survive. People would no longer need people at all.

The day the big machine was due to 'leave', the hundreds and thousands of people gathered out the front of the stadium. They clutched their tickets to their chest, as if their lives depended on it (losing it would have been the better option, of course) and chatted excitedly about their new lives in the future.

Tom was just about ready to open the doors, when an unfamiliar voice caught his attention. A young man, strong and confident was speaking to the crowd. Rather than opening the doors, he listened.

"I assure you, the promises you have heard, are untrue. Time travel doesn't exist."

Tom clutched the handle. Who was this insolent child?

"We've seen photos and videos!" someone in the crowd piped up.

"Lies."

"You're just annoyed you don't have a ticket. Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is Harry Potter. I have seen his plans. They aren't for salvation in the future, they're for death. Lots and lots of death. If you board that ship, you will die."

Cries from the crowd came, but Tom couldn't decipher what any of it was. Now would be the time to open the door.

"Come, friends!" he called, beckoning them before this Harry Potter could say anymore. "Ensure you get a good seat."

Harry Potter clearly had had very little influence, for the people trampled through, concealing and trampling Potter in the process.

Within two hours, every single person who held a ticket was on the machine. Some were nervous, but most stared in anticipation.

"Enjoy your ride," was all Tom said to them as he pressed the button to seal all the doors shut.

Three.

Two.

One.

BOOM.

Hi friends! Long time no see. But I am back again, this year participating as a PLAYER in season 8 of the Quidditch League. This will be my collection of stand-alone stories for the duration of the competition.

If you're reading this and curious about the Quidditch League and like writing for prompts, please follow the link in my profile. There are currently plenty of positions available to join still. You'll have fun, I promise :D

As this is the first story I've written in a while, please be kind haha!