time to play, WEDNESDAY

[ray3]

It was rare when the students of Hogwarts were allowed outside of their 'cage' since the dramatic Lockdoen of the entire school. Of course the Lockdown didn't phase people such as Sethos. He had his ways and had transformed his apperance and persona, having everyone believing he was just a helpful auror in the school. But that just wasn't the case. The so-called shy auror named Lucifer was infact stealing students, frightening the rest and the teachers and teasing the Headteacher. It was amazing only three people died when 'Lucifer' took his leave. But he did have a purpose for being there, not just brutally slaughtering children, nor setting the Head on edge, but locating one specific student, but the name of a day. Wedneday.

This evening, the air was crisp and chilly. March must've been having an off day. People in the streets were discussing the odd change in weather, having to wrap back up in gloves and scarves. Some pondered whether Dementors were around, but no, just strange weather conditions today. It was a Wednesday, figures, and there weren't many lingering in the streets, by six it was pitch black, but with the help of some lanterns and candles, the streets remained lit. Down the street was the wide path that lead to the Hogwarts gates that had opened, and beyond were a small group of figures heading towards the village. Why couldn't they walk just a little bit faster? Sethos was watching and waiting from a thin and darkened ally. The streets were more or less desserted now, but the cobbled way was still reasonably lit from the lights inside the shops and pubs. Sethos was standing at a corner where wooden boards and unwanted boxes were left, broken and neglected. Rats would venture through the wreckage and sqeak every now and then. Sethos sighed as he craned his neck around, only to see they were much more closer.

The reason as to why Sethos was searching for this one specific young girl was because he'd heard from a not so reliable source that Wednesday had something 'special'. There was some kind of substance in her body that Sethos was more than interested in. He knew that the poor girl had been experimented on by other scientists, and now it was Sethos' turn to poke and prod to his heart's delight. He reached into his pocket and brought out his wand that was still stained with dots of blood. He twiddled his wand around in his purple leather gloves before craning his neck around the corner of the alley and saw the small cluster of students standing, speaking non-stop about things Sethos didn't care about. He waited until the group decided something. His stomach lurched as they started for the other way, so he stepped out from his hiding place and flicked his wand, aiming at his target but 'accidentally' stunning the whole lot onto the ground. Sethos sighed and rolled his eyes at his clumsiness and hopped over the boxes and trash, picking out the day of the week he wanted and lifting her lifeless body over his shoulder, heading back for the alley into what appeared to be a lost square. This place must have been forgotten about. The buildings were bare and the windows were boarded up. Random objects were scattered around the ground, but in the centre was a chair, to which Sethos sat the unconcious girl down and tied her nicely to the chair.

He began to hum, at the worst of times he was so inappropriate, but being inappropriate was a tame word for a man quite like Sethos. He kicked aside all the junk and rubbih that had been abandoned by those who previously lived here. He picked up a small scuffed doll that was missing parts of her hair. Sethos rose his eyebrow, staring in the doll's eyeliss face, but it didn't last long when he decided to turn around to the girl, who was now waking up. He edged towards her, bending down to her eye level, not taking any regard for her personal space and squashing her nose with his own. "Evening, my sweet." And he smiled, drawing his head back for her to fully ... appreciate who was with her tonight. She was so lucky.

[wed]

The cold lit on her cheeks, making them rosy with the frosty air. She did not mind, any sensation to her was one she enjoyed. It was a far cry from the pain she had felt in her childhood, the needles that were inserted into her skin. The scars she was afraid to show anyone, even the twin she loved so much. Her pain ran deep, and in the middle of the night it was much worse. She felt the pain from the shadow man, the one who always prepped her for testing. He would move into her room in the dark of night, and while she pretended to be asleep, the shadow man would move into her bed, and... and...

She trembled all over. As if some deep cold finger had touched the center of her spine. She inhaled hard, the cold air burning her throat and lungs as it coursed through her small body. She almost blacked out, but she was made of stronger stuff than this. She did not mean to let that painful memory invade her thoughts. She clutched her body close, her fingers digging into her pale skin under the wool jacket she had thrown on. Her eyes closed tight, and she tried to form a barrier to block the evil memories. She was failing fast, and could almost feel the ice cold fingers touching her young body. She could feel herself being forced into positions she would much rather not know existed. She could taste the bitter tears she cried afterward when she was tossed aside like a used piece of meat, chewed, and then spit out by some cruel maul. She would not break down and cry now, not here... not ever.

Yet, she could not help but feel the pain inside as the thoughts began to take on sharp edges and cut deep within her. Several times the only string that kept her moving forward were thoughts of a beloved sister. Now, that sister had found her own happiness with another. Noah would take care of her, this she was certain. But there would be no one to take care of Wednesday. Wednesday had no one else, she had met a few people, but no one ever stayed. She thought they might have found her to be unacceptable. She was nothing like her sister, whom had been granted a whole new life since meeting that boy. Wednesday started to feel even more useless than before. This was something that she could hardly handle, the pain clashed with the scars of her past, and made her wish she was already dead. But, still... she was stronger than that now. Wasn't she? She sighed through frozen fingers, and tried to force herself to walk on.

The path seemed to move under her feet as her steps crunched on the snow. Hogsmead was still yards ahead of her, and all the other students had long since rushed past her to join in the merriments. Valentine's Day had recently passed, and she found this to only add to the current level of depression. With the bad dreams, dark thoughts, and the current situations regarding her relationship status, Wednesday felt more hopeless than she had in many years. Her little heart could not take another violent turn, or small jolt, before it simply broke and shattered into millions of dark pieces. She inhaled again, her eyes opened and she found the world no longer moved to her side in a vicious circle. She would place her mask firmly on her face, and continue on as if nothing ever was the matter. She hid behind her outgoing attitude, and attempted to let the world see that there were no problems in the world of a Kerrison. Inside, she was rotting, breaking, crying out for any help that might come... help never came. It never would.

She slid, the ice under her feet moved slowly as her body sped down onto the cold ground. Her movement did not stop as it appeared she was being pulled by some unseen force into the wood area. She clawed at the ground, her fingers digging into the snow leaving deep trenches. The snow gave away to dirt, and her nails were soon filled with soil. She struggled to move around as one leg seems frozen in midair as if someone was holding it off the ground while pulling her away from the trail. She moved one dirty covered hand to her pocket and pulled out her wand, but then her small frame moved over a rock. The wand leaped from her hand, and seemed to snap against one of the trees rushing past her. It fell to the ground, and her dark eyes longed for the weapon that was now lost to her forever. The wand laid in the shadow of the tree, now cleanly snapped in two. The ground became rocky, and she moved with a quick pace over the rocks. Her head snapped against the ground shooting stars into her vision. With a moan, Wednesday tried to open her mouth, but no sound came out. The trees moved above her, she saw brief glimpses of the sky beyond, but now even that was becoming cloudy around the edges. Wednesday made one final effort to move, to escape, to yell for help... but all the air was forced from her lungs as her body rebounded off another tree stump. Wednesday's world began to crumble, and all light turned a dark sick green as she faded away. In the background, her mind clung to a single sound... the giggles of a madman.

She had no idea how much time had passed, and the world started to slowly move back into her vision. Gone were the path, the trees, the snow... she was surrounded by shadows. The dark room smelled unused to her, and the sour of the carpet invaded her nose like bad memories. She tried to open her eyes, but her head spun with a weary feeling of illness. Crushed blood clung to her forehead, pasting her free flowing hair down to her face. She managed to open one eye, and immediately knew she was in trouble. She could not move, even with the first of her thrusts against the old chair. Ropes danced over her wrists, and she felt the burn as they dug deep into her flesh. Her jacket was gone, and her shirt was ripped partially from her torso. This was nothing compared to the chill she felt as the voice moved through the dark to her. A thousand dead snakes crawled into her ear, and her mind winced against the deep pain. She tried to scream, but there was no air. She lifted her dirty, and bloody face to look into those shadows. To see what was there might burst her heart, but anything was better than this. A million years of her childhood would be better than this. Wednesday's terror was a living thing, it moved. It walked. And it spoke to her. The living nightmare had taken Wednesday, and there was no hope for escape.