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 DEMONS, -closed-
Travis Hunt
Posted: Jun 26 2010, 02:25 AM



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Group: Murdered
Posts: 7
Member No.: 8,891
Joined: 27-March 09



    Travis felt overwhelmed every day of his life, especially the past two years.

    Since the American Occupation, Muggle Education came into existence in the once darkened territory full of tyranny and horror. Before Chancellor McCarthy, Travis hid in fear with his family and the Resistance in order to survive each day. He learned how to scrounge for food and run and hide from potential threats, but he never had an education, a real education. Yes, his family and the Resistance taught him the basics, such as reading, writing, arithmetic and the like, but outside of the basics, Travis knew absolutely nothing.

    Then came Chancellor McCarthy and his talk of acceptance of Muggles and magical folk of all different bloods, and with that acceptance came a real education and all it entitled. Now that Travis was in school, he found it to be a lot harder than he could ever imagine.

    The chilled air around the school signified that winter would be around soon enough. The leaves of the trees had already turned their autumn colour while the trees themselves seemed to be almost naked. It almost looked sad, but at the same time, Travis found it refreshing. In fact, it often assisted in one of his hobbies: climbing trees. It was the only place Travis believed he could do his reading and homework. He turned the page of his Muggle/Wizarding Relations and Diversity textbook dreading each and every word that was bound to come upon the next page. When the muggle boy started the class, it was an adventure and something interesting, but now the class seemed to be nothing more than a chore, and that was something Travis didnít like. The professor dragged on in a monotonous voice on a material that seemed to be about as exciting as watching a body decay. If only Travis could do magic, then at least he could take part in a class like Transfiguration and Charms. All of Travisís magical friends said it was such a fun class, and the work seemed to be far more interesting than the work the muggle currently found himself doing.

    Sadly that was not going to happen, and thus Travis was stuck in Muggle/Wizarding Relations and Diversity.

    The muggle boy sighed heavily as he continued to read through the pages of his book while perched high in his tree on a strong branch. ďI really donít care about this anymore,Ē he muttered underneath his breath. Was he even going to use this information? The likelihood that he would be able to apply to the Ministry or do anything internationally related was slim to none. His eyes fluttered from the page to the horizon and back and forth. That was when he saw it.

    That was when the bright flash of light appeared: a foreboding, green aura. Suddenly it appeared in the sky.

    A skull, crude and decrepit, formed from the clouds, darkening the sky above the school and the horizon. The once brilliant sun now lay hidden behind this horrendous figure that loomed over the school. Its mouth opened and a slithering snake crawl forward like a whip. This was the image of old. Travis remembered reading about it in the old books and seeing the Death Eaters throw the sign up when they needed assistance or were ruling quite well. Shivers crept down Travisís spine. Goosebumps popped up all over his body. He was scared, truly scared. What did this mean? The sign. It wasnít supposed to be used anymore. It wasnít supposed to be known or kept in existence.

    Then it changed. The green aura shifted to a cold, earthen rust. Horns sprouted from the top of the skull. A pointed tail formed from behind giving the imagery of a demon Ė a vicious demon. A shrill scream and a haunting laughter echoed throughout the skies. Who was doing this? Travis wanted to know but feared trying to figure out might lead to something he didnít quite like. However he knew that his present location wasnít safe. Quickly the boy climbed down the tree and started rushing towards the schools grounds. The laughter and screams grew louder and louder, raging on as if someone was torturing the very soul and mentality from innocents. Suddenly Travis felt he couldnít move anymore. His body had stiffened. What was going on?

    A dark voice whispered into Travisís ears. The voice Ė it sounded old, warn, but still frightening. ďYou werenít supposed to see that. Youíll have to forgive me for what Iím about to do. Cleaning up the filth is what I do best.Ē Pain erupted through Travisís body as it fell to the ground. The muggle screamed in agony. It hurt. It hurt far more than anything he had ever felt, and there was nothing he could about the situation. He was going to feel this pain and he knew exactly what came next. If the man was some the old regime, then Travisís fears were in the right place. The voice spoke again, whispering with a smirk as Travis writhed where he lay. ďAnd now, little muggle boy,Ē the man enunciated each of the three words with a more disdainful sound, ďYouíre going to have to go now, but Iíll let you in on a little secret: heís back.Ē

    Heís back.

    The words rang a million times over and over in Travisís head. A green light flashed and then it was over.

    Nothingness.

    The void was all that existed now for Travis Hunt.


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