Minsitry officials and proposals
Harry hadnt spoken to the man since, fearful and timid to be in debt to somone so notable and strong. Amber eyes stared up at him, all warmth now void and Harry asked himself why he never thanked this man.
.........
"Quiet!" A guard screamed, once anonymous with all the cladly dressed military men. Now his face was twisted into fiery fury, teeth bared and nose scrunched as he looked down upon the bloodbath.
This needless violence.
His hand reached into the navy fabric of his pocket, pulling out a gun (a gun that is of course of magical origin) Two warning shots were fired up randomly. Sielence spread across the hall leaving only the heated pants of the men to fill the air.
"All of you move to the mess hall, and if you so much as fucking move out of line " he levelled the gun on them in warning. The air grew tense as the message sunk in.
A voice whispered to Harry to charge at the man, tackle him and get his gun. Get revenge. His hand twitched to reach out, to grab for the only form of escape that has come by him in this decrepit hole. Sweat started to cling to his temple, face flushing as he battled with his desire.
'Kill him' the voice whispered sweetly in his mind. Lovely and saccharine.
'No' he wanted to scream. Pleading to the voice, that consuming desire, to stop.
Even if he escaped they would find him, and what they did to escapees... well it was a fate he wanted to avoid. Harry had roomed with one before. A boy who couldnt be older than fourteen. He had been noble and rightous, and with that came naivety.
This place chewed him up and spat him out, so when he inevitably escaped he was met with a such an appaling ruin.
Harry didnt know what they did when they found him. But after he returned the boy was a living carcass. Like the opium addicts from Hull. Only without the consuming want and need that drove them to destroy themselves. No. His fate was much worse.
The boy just sat there, day after day, drooling with eyes that didnt see or comprehend anything infont of them. Three days was all it took. He ended up chocking on his vomit during the night. Mind so far away that he couldnt even bring himself to turn onto his side.
So no. Harry could not possibly escape.
Habitually he marched on with the other prisoners, through light grey hallways. The stone walls were damp and ensnared by mold. A tapestry of disease.
When they finally reached the refectory a podium was set up. It was an alien luxury to these stone walls. A sign of life amongst animals.
Two men were whispering to eachother. With suits that only those of the highest caste could possibly afford. Their posture was rigid and proud, the same stance that the purebloods adopted from young.
When the men finally turned towards them, Harry flinched as he saw the coldness their eyes held. It wasnt hate and it certainly wasnt anger. Disgust was all Harry could see in that gaze, a sort of disgust that you would feel towards a rabid mutt. No empathy could be found in that stare.
It made his anger flare once again, dousing his blood with that viscous hate.
' 1, 8, 27, 64 ' he chanted, repeating it backwards.
"Ahem" the man on the right drawled, more noticable to his companion whos average features were commonplace.
This man however had the look of a creature to him. The officials large nose resembled the twisted ones of goblins. Yet his dark, lackluster hair was similar to the hair that a vampire hid its crimson eyes behind. Such features screamed power and danger. However, he was meerly a man.
Harry stepped lightly towards the podium. Muscled torsos beat against his shoulders. He needed to hear this. He knew desperately that this was important. Officials have not graced these walls at all in the years Harry has spent here.
" Welcome. You have all been chosen by the Emperor himself to participate in his... gladiatorial competition" His voice was deep and relaxed, rolling the syllables like he was testing them.
Whispers flared up immediately, exited and shocked. Thoughts such as 'the emperor' and 'why would the empeor notice us?' Ran through the minds of every prisoner
"This is an opportunity to redeem yourself. So do not shirk in fear. If you run from this you will be charged with treason" the threat lingered in the air.
Their options here was blaringly obvious. Die by execution or risk it all for a minor chance of survival in a tournament that would get them all murdered.
"For the glory of the Emperor" Both officials shouted.
"For the glory of the Emperor" Echoed throughout the room, in a hesitant mantra. No one here had ever witnessed that proclaimed glory, so how could they ever be loyal to a man who had never bothered to care for them?
These delegates from the capital have signed their bodies away to the Emperor Grindelwald... so Harry will fight. Yes he will fight, but not for their entertainment.
He doesnt know how but he will get his vengeance in this lifetime. The Emperor's list of sins will be atoned for in rightous blood.
'Yesss.... kill him.... paint the walls in his blood...' the voice beckoned him with lust.