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 :)
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, after a while. 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.
Three figures, each a towering behemoth of muscle and bone, twice the size of Dudley and radiating an aura of raw menace, advanced towards them from the far end of the bridge. Their expressions were grim, etched with a cold, predatory intent that sent a shiver down Piers' spine. The largest of the three, a hulking mass of a man, his physique resembling a grotesque caricature of human strength, stepped forward. He was a mountain of raw muscle, bald and scarred, his skin a canvas of crude tattoos and scars. His sheer size, as wide and imposing as a baby elephant, was amplified by the military fatigues he wore. His jaw, thick and powerful, was clenched in a menacing snarl.
"Are you Dudley Dursley?" he growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble that echoed across the bridge.
Dudley, surprisingly, managed to maintain a semblance of composure, his voice steady despite the palpable threat hanging in the air. "We mean no harm," he stated, his words measured and calm.
""That's exactly what Eddie said," the man retorted, his voice rising, each word laced with a simmering rage, "and you still beat him to a bloody pulp."
""Who is he to you?" Piers asked, his voice trembling slightly, in stark contrast to Dudley's forced calm answer.
"He's my bloody cousin," the man snarled, his eyes flashing with a murderous intensity. The situation had escalated beyond mere confrontation; it was clear to Piers now that they were in grave danger. One of the three men, had slipped past them, effectively blocking their escape on both sides of the bridge. Dudley, his eyes darting frantically from one man to the next, seemed to have reached the same conclusion. His gaze, wide and desperate, flickered between the three figures, as if he could somehow hold them at bay simply by keeping them within his line of sight, a futile attempt to control the inevitable.
"So" Eddie's cousain said with a 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, as Piers felt a searing pain across his cheek. He hit the ground hard, 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 sneered, his voice dripping with amusement.
"What do we do with these wankers?" the third man, who had Dudley trapped in a handlock, asked, his voice thick with a sadistic anticipation. "I don't think they learned their leason quite yet"
""What do you suggest?" the man who had tackled Piers asked, his eyes fixed on their leader.
The leader's grin widened, becoming a grotesque mask of pure malice, as he took a deliberate step towards Piers. "Pick this one up," he commanded, "The other one is too bloody fat to go under."
With a swift movement the leader and his accomplice seized Piers' limbs. Piers struggled desperately, summoning the last vestiges of his strength to break free, to fight back against the inevitable. But he might as well have done nothing, his efforts a mere flailing against a force far superior. The two men were simply too strong.
"Wait! Put his bloody cap oh him" the man holding Dudley roared with laughter And with a sickening thud that sent a jolt of pain through Piers' skull, almost plunging him into unconsciousness, he felt his own cap being slammed back onto his head.
"Have a nice dip," Eddie's cousin sneered, his words laced with a cold, triumphant satisfaction.
Piers slammed into the frigid water with a sickening thud, the impact reverberating through his body like a brutal electric shock. The icy water immediately stole his breath away. He gasped desperately, his lungs burning, but each frantic inhale only brought more water, flooding his airways and igniting a searing pain in his chest. The murky depths pulled him down. He coughed violently, a desperate, choking sound, spitting out a mixture of blood and water, but also in the process letting more water in. His limbs flailed, a frantic, desperate dance against the relentless pull of the current. Someone, anyone, had to help him. Shivering uncontrollably, his head still reeling from the brutal blow, he struggled to stay afloat, his eyes darting wildly through the shadows. To his right, a figure loomed, a dark silhouette against the dim light. Dudley? No, he could still hear Dudley's franticly screaming his name. The figure in the shadows remained indistinct, blurred by the swirling water and the haze of panic clouding Piers' vision. But the outstretched hand, a pale beacon in the darkness, was a lifeline, a desperate hope in his drowning despair. Come on, please, please, yes… A wave of overwhelming relief washed over him as he grasped the outstretched hand, his fingers clinging to it with a desperate strength. But the relief was instantly shattered, replaced by a raw, guttural scream that bubbled up from his throat, as Piers saw them: those horrible, luminous yellow eyes.