Author's Author's Note: Yeah i deleted the old chapters why? Well because those were rushed out to fast. So let's begin the story again :)
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
For 15 years, terror has reared its terrifying head time and time again. Another 16 years without an end to this horror... if it can even be extinguished. Our story begins in the distant past, with a pair of ordinary school bullies, fear, and a bridge that led to a watery grave.
Piers Polkiss was a scrawny 16 year old with a face like a rat. And he wasn't exactly the nicest kid, to put it mildly. In fact, by all messures he was a bully. Perched precariously on the edge of his desk, his gaze flitting from the blank page of his empty math notebook, only illuminated by an old table lamp, to the darkening, wett Morganarie Street below his open window. The rain had finally subsided, leaving the air heavy with the scent of wet earth and damp leaves. A group photo, propped against his inkwell, caught his eye, pulling him further away from his studies. Smiling at a it, he saw himself, Gordon a strong, stubborn blond , Dennis a big but possibly retarded guy, Malcolm the only one who wasn't that stupid but was a filthy rich wanker, and their leader, Big D.
Dudley Dursley, the biggest, fattest and, except Dennis, even stupidest of the group. And also Piers best friend since elementry school.
Dreamily, Piers gazed out of the window, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. He thought back to all their escapades the late night raids on the playground, the thrill of terrorizing smaller kids, the easy scores of stolen lunches and the occasional snatched purse. He sighed, stroking his freshly shaven chin thoughtfully. Lately, Big D seemed to have lost interest. Or motivation. Their nightly patrols had become less frequent, less…enthusiastic.
A heavy sigh escaped Piers lips as he picked up his black pajamas from his old but sturdy desk to get ready for bed even though it was only 7 pm. But with ablsolutly nothing fun to do, plus him giving up on the prospect of finishing homework and boredom consuming him he held on the prospect that maybe.. just maybe they will go on a patrol tomorrow. Just as he was about to give up and go to bed, his eyes caught sight of four familiar faces walking down his street.
A huge grin spread across his face and wave of excitement washed over Piers as he realized what was happening. There they were, his boys, looking tougher than ever. Even Big D was there, although he looked a bit grumpy, as if his mom had denied him his daily cake again, but he didn't care right now.
Piers dressed so quickly, he almost put his cap on his foot. He raced down the stairs, taking two at a time, and flung open the front door open. Dennis was standing right there at the front porch, his finger hovering over the doorbell. "Piers," Dennis exclaimed shaking his hand, which he repeated with all the other boys.
"What are you doing here? Are we going on a tour?" Piers asked eagerly looking hopefully at Dudley.
"Yeah," Dudley said dully. "We'll walk around a bit and maybe... have some fun."
"Big D," Gordon grumbled, "Shave your bullocks. It'll be a blast. We might even hit the jackpot this time. I heard there are some kids in play area at the park."
"Wha- why would childreen still be out at this time?" said Malcolm suspicious, pointing at his left wrist where a brand new watch restet on his wrist.
"Bloody Hell we know that you are fucking rich" Piers snorted sarcasticly "But i must say that's a creative way to show off"
Every one except Dudley started laughing.
"Haha good one. But Now seriously when i walked past it like... Err half an hour ago? There were Kids playing on the swings. I don't know why they were playing when it's this dark and it litteraly just rained like a few minutes ago..." Gordon mumbled thoughfully. This is maybe the only time Gordon really thought about anything. "But maybe... just maybe, they are still there"
"So what are we waiting for?" Dennis exclaimed in an excited tone, rubbing his hands, his eyes resting on Dudley "Let's go and atlest check it out Big D"
Dudley shrugged indifferently "Yeah... whatever." He slouched down the Morganarie Street, his shoulders sagging, looking utterly dejected.
"What's up with him" asked Piers to Malcom. The two boys trailing ater Dudley at a distance, making sure he couldn't hear them. It was doubtful however anyone could have been heard over Dennis and Gordon's strained attempts to cheer him up, attempts to which Dudley was completely unresponsive.
"No idea mate" Malcom grunted while shrugging "I heard, that Harry Potter maybe had something to do with it but i wouldn't bet on it"
Harry Potter. Piers hadn't seen Dudley's cousin in ages, and he was grateful for it. He couldn't stand the strange kid with the messy black hair, the ugly scar, and the glasses that were constantly in need of repair. Well... mostly because of us. Piers' rat-like face contorted to a frown as he thought about it. But he's off at some school for troublemakers, right? I mean he sometimes he sees him again but... His gaze was now fixed on Dudley who remained completely unfazed by Dennis's offensive joke about Germans, Russians, and Poles in contrast to Gordon, who was howling with laughter.
"Now that I think about it" said Malcom reflecting his own thoughtfulness "Maybe it really was Potter maybe he really did something. I mean he is in that deliquent school or something right?"
"Yeah," Piers said, "I might've been wrong about Potter. What the hell did he do?" A heavy silence descended as they reached the old city bridge spanning Morganarie Street and Wisteria Walk over the rushing river. "Like anyone's stupid enough to jump off here?" Gordon laughed, pointing to the 'no swimming' sign firmly attached to the middle of the bridge. He gave Dudley a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Dudley just managed a pained grimace in response.
"Alright," Dennis said as they reached the intersection of Wisteria Walk and Magnolia Road. They all turned to look at him. "Quick break?" he asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. "Bloody hell, Dennis, you idiot, don't you get that we need to hurry up?" "Well... Uh... I could really do with a break," Gordon said hesitantly looking at Dudley.
"Fine by me," Dudley said curtly. "But keep walking anyway. No one we know will see us or say anything."
With cigarettes glowing in the twilight, they ambled down the deserted, rain-soaked Magnolia Road. Even Dudley was grinning, as Dennis swore loudly when he squished a slug.
"Ahhh yes do you guys hear that?" asked Gordon pleased
The faint melody of a child's song drifted to Piers as they drew near the park entrance, the sound emanating from the playground
"As i said they are still here."
A wide grin spread across Gordon's face as he dashed into the park, heading straight towards the source of the singing. He waved excitedly at the others over his shoulder, shouting, "Come on, hurry up!"
"Why's he running so fast?" Dennis grumbled, carefully following behind to probably avoid a repeat of the slug incident.
Piers felt a growing unease as he and the others followed the sound of the singing. Why were kids out this late? Why were they still outside after it had rained so recently? And why were they singing that creepy song over and over? The hairs on the back of Piers' neck stood on end. Something was wrong. They were close enough now to hear the song clearly:
"Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch
When will that be? say the bells of Stepney
I do not know, says the great bell of Bow
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
Chip chop chip chop – The last man's dead."
Piers stumbled to a halt to avoid bumping into Dennis , who had frozen in place. All five of them stared at the playground, their mouths hanging open. It was as if they were watching a broken record. There were 7 children, barely visible in the moonlight, who were all chanting in a chorea boy was engaged in an endless, repetitive task: building a sandcastle only to see it destroyed by a girl. Three children slid down the slide, their movements mechanical, their faces blank. And then there was the man at the swing set, pushing the two last children higher and higher.
The man's stark white gloves contrasted sharply with his midnight black suit and cylinder as he stood there, his long, curly red hair a fiery crown. A purple bow tie, barely discernible in the dim light, completed his bizarre ensemble. He also was the only one in the playground who wasn't singing, or at least Piers couln't make out his mouth moving. But it was his mouth that drew Piers' attention. A crimson liquid was slowly dripping from the corners of his wide grin. Is that saliva? And... blood?
"What in the bloody world...?" Malcolm breathed, his voice trembling. As if he shouted his words, every child and the strange man halted their activities, frozen in place as if someone pressed a pause button.
"Let's get the fuck outa here," said Dudley, his voice a low, panicked whisper behind him. They didn't need to be told twice. With hurried steps and an overwhelming sense of being watched, they made their way towards the park's exit.
Heart pounding in his chest, Piers pushed himself forward, his eyes fixed on the exit. He had never been so terrified in his life. Shaking and a heart pounding so hard he could have been a drummer, he glanced back over his shoulder. There he was, the man, still watching. In his hand, a bunch of balloons bobbed lazily in the air. He was waving, just like a parent waving their childreen goodbye. And... his eyes... those horrible yellow eyes...
His heart hammered in his chest as Piers sprinted forward, leaving Dennis and Gordon behind. "Hey!" he heard Dennis call, but he couldn't slow down. His lungs burned as he raced down Magnolia Road, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally, he collapsed onto a wet bench infront of a little drugstore, his body screaming in protest.
He glanced back at the road he had just raced down, his eyes scanning the darkness. There, in the distance, he could make out the silhouettes of his friends. Who was that man? What did he want? And what was wrong with those children? A shiver ran down his spine as he tried to remember the creature's face. Where was it now?
"Piers!" Gordon shouted, startling him. "What's going on?"
"That... thing," Piers stammered, his voice trembling. "I had to get away... I want to go home."
"But we've only been here for a little while," Dennis said, puzzled.
"I don't bloody care. I want to go home now."All Piers wanted was to be out of there, back in his bed, his only worry being that he couldn't have fun with his friends anymore.
"Alright," Dudley replied, his voice firm. All eyes turned to him. "I'm coming with you."
"But, mate, we-"
"No," Dudley interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Come Piers we are leaving". Dudley reached down with one of his massive hands and hauled Piers to his feet.
"Well.. err.. i'll see you guys around" he said, patting himself down and forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "Uh... Okay, see you tomorrow or something," Dennis replied, looking suspicious but shaking Piers' hand anyway. Malcolm just gave a "bye" as he turned away, starting to walk down down the Magnolia Road, heading home. Gordon looked completely baffled. "Why? We barely did anything."
Dudley, who had already turned away, didn't answer Gordon and just said, "Bye. See you tomorrow, Piers. Come on."
With a heavy heart and an apologetic look back at Gordon and Dennis, Piers slowly followed Dudley. Malcolm, who was just a few feet ahead of them, turned down Magnolia Crescent at the next intersection while Piers and Dudley continued straight down Magnolia Road. "He's mad, isn't he?" Piers said glumly, glancing at Malcolm's retreating figure. "Maybe" Dudley replied, staring after Malcolm too. "But who cares? If you ask me, I'm not really into these trips anymore either."
"Why? I mean... you're-"
"The leader? Yeah, I know."
A heavy silence hung between them as they walked down the deserted street. The moonlight painted the scene in silver and black. "Why anyways?" Piers asked, his voice breaking the stillness. "Why did you step in?" Dudley remained silent. They reached the spot where they'd had their cigarette earlier, where Magnolia Road and Wisteria Walk meet. Piers pulled, the one he saved,auf out and lit it, watching the smoke curl up into the night.
A chill ran down Piers' spine as a thought struck him. "Have you seen it too? That... thing?" "Is that why you've been so... off lately?" Silence.
"Something like that," Dudley mumbled. Piers waited, but Dudley didn't elaborate. They continued walk in silence.
A realization dawned on Piers. And with it came a surge of sympathy and affection.
"Thanks" more words seemed unnecessary, but also impossible to him right now.
"No biggi" Dudley said smiling as they
The tension between Piers and Dudley was beginning to thaw. They joked and laughed about everything from girls to school to their friends. "Dennis is such a klutz," Dudley aughed as they reached the old bridge. "I know," Dudley agreed, grinning. "Who would be so clumsy as to bump his head-" He broke off abruptly, his eyes fixed on something. And Piers knew instantly what it was.
"Are you Dudley Dursley?" said one of the figures infront of him.
A hulking figure, as big and wide as a baby elephant, stood directly in their path. The man was a mountain of muscle, bald and covered in scars. Clad in an army uniform, his massive jaw was set in a menacing snarl. Flanked by two equally imposing men, he cut an intimidating figure. "We mean no harm," Dudley said, his voice surprisingly steady.
"That's exactly what Eddie said, and you still beat him up," the man said, his voice growing angrier with each word.
"What is he to you." Piers chimed in with not
Who is he to you?" Piers asked, his voice nowhere near as steady as Dudley's.
"He's my bloody cousin," the man growled, and it was clear to Piers now that they were in serious trouble. One of the three had slipped past them and was now blocking their path on both sides. Dudley seemed to realize it too, as his eyes darted from one man to the next as if he could somehow keep them at bay if he just kept them in sight.
"So" the Eddie's cousain said with a slight and sadistic grin forming in his facial features. "How do we settle this?"
"Let us go! We haven't done anything wrong!" Piers pleaded, but The words were hardly out of his mouth before he knew he'd blundered. Dudley's scream of anger turned into a muffled scream of teror, and Piers felt a searing pain across his cheek as he was knocked to the ground, his cap falling of his head. The metallic taste in his mouth, the cold, wet ground beneath and the futile attempts by Dudley to free himslef, ignited a deep hoplessness in him. He tried to stand up but was quickly tackled by one of their attackers.
"Not so funny anymore is it?" The leader of the group
"What do we do with these wankers?" The third guy who had Dudley in a handlock asked.
"I don't think they learned their leason quite yet"
"What do you suggest?" The one, that tackled Piers asked
The leader's grin was wide and menacing as he stepped towards Piers.
"pick this one up. The other one is too fat to go under"
With a swift movement, the leader and his friend forcefully grabbed Piers' limbs. Piers tried desperately, with his last remaining streght to free himself, to fight back. But he might as well have done nothing, the other two were that much stronger.
"Wait put the bloody cap oh him" The one holding Dudley laughed and with a thud, that alsmost send Piers almost into unconsciousness, he felt his own cap back on his head.
"Have a nice dip," he sneered, his words filled with cold satisfaction.
Piers hit the frigid water with a sickening thud, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his body. Desperately, he gasped for air, but the more he tried, the more water filled his lungs. With every passing second he began to drift away from his impact point, as if the forces of nature were slowly plunging him into oblivion. He coughed violently, spitting blood and water from his lungs. Someone, anyone had to help him. Shivering, still dazed from the blow to his head and splashing around to survive, he noticed a man to his right. Dudley? No, he could still hear him, screaming his name from the bridge. He couldn't make out the figure in the shadows, too preoccupied with staying afloat. But the outstretched hand was a beacon of hope in his desperate situation. Come on, please, please, Yeesss. The feeling of relief that spread through Piers body, as he graped the outstreched hand of his supposed savior, was immediately replaced with a by a loud, gurgling scream. A last scream of terror as Piers saw those horrible yellow eyes again.