A/N: THis is an idea i've come with after reading a couple stories that follow the same general idea. THe two I've read were either 1) sloppily written or 2) abandoned. I hope that I can put my plans to paper in a way that will appeal to everyone. This is a test chapter. Like it, love it, hate it? send me a review and tell me what you think and if I should continue it.
I've been in this place for three to four years. Normally, a guy who's seen as much as I have would've completely lost his mind in the first year. But me... heh... I've just learned to call it 'home'. It's actually interesting to note that the constant wails of destroyed souls can be rather comforting. Not for much longer, though.
Everybody assumes that I've waisted away like all these other pathetic fools. That's fine... let 'em. It'll make it all the more entertaining to see their faces when I scram. Got a few people to visit when I get out.
Still remember that bloody arsehole Ron from the trial, or whatever the fuck that atrocity was. Thought he was there to defend me in front of the so-called 'judges'. Should've expected that jealous little prick would fuck me over in the end. Him and his little slut of a sister spewed all kinds of shit so that they could 'justify' sending me here. Was incredibly surprising to see no help from the rest of the Weasleys. Closest thing I had to a family just abandoned my ass. Except for the twins of course... always liked those jokers.
More than likely they were promised most of my money by that goat-fucker Dumbledore. Fat lot of good that'll do. Nobody expected me to learn from my encounter in the graveyard. Old fart never would have thought that his little weapon would have suspected him. Managed to sneak away to Gringotts before the shit hit the fan.
Main reason I've managed to keep my mind was her. Won't ever forget her crying my name and heartfelt promises of help as they dragged me away. Doesn't matter. Not even the smartest witch of our generation can do anything against our corrupt leaders. That's okay... I'll see her again soon.
Ah... there goes the guard on his pointless rounds. Stupid gits don't even pay any attention to any of us. Guess they figure we're all to gone to be a threat. They never even register the draw on their magic as they pass me. So dependent on the magic suppression wards encompassing every cell that they don't even imagine that I can still use magic. This poor little fucker drew the short straw to have to be here tonight. Managed to top off my magic from his measly core. Little push of energy to the door and I'm gone...
"Can't believe I got stuck with Azkaban duty again! I hate this place." muttered Steven Monki as he returned to the guard station after his rounds.
Steven's professional life was at an all time low. Straight out of auror training he was chosen as the proverbial bitch by his peers and superiors. He was constantly being saddled with crap assignments. The security desk at the ministry of magic, guard duty for a few of the lowest ranking members of the Wizengamot, and not to mention all of the idiotic crank calls received by his department every day. Add in the constant mispronunciation of his last name, 'like its so fucking hard to say Moan-keye', and you have a shitty job experience.
Then you throw in the repeated duty of guarding the wizard prison. Steven just couldn't understand why, in a prison full of happiness devouring creatures where only one man had ever escaped, a constant auror presence was required. The sheer lack of necessity for his attendance pissed him off more than the fact that this cold sore of an assignment all but ruined any chance of a social life. Really, the poor guy hadn't had a date since the start of his training four and a half years ago.
A slight sound caused Steven to jerk his eyes around. His wand leveled on nothing but dark hallway as a shiver passed up his spine.
"Place gives me the creeps."
"Won't for much longer." rumbled a voice from behind him. He spun and froze in fear as he saw a pair of cold, silver-green eyes. Steven knew of this man. Once known as the savior of the wizarding world, this teenager was forced to suffer through even more ridicule from the aurors than even Steven himself. That is, until, he repeatedly found some way to kill anyone who messed with him. Arrogant aurors and heckling prisoners alike kept winding up with sharpened implements lodged in some vital spot. This continued until he finally succumbed to the dementors' effects... apparently. He had earned a new name during his brief and bloody spree...
"Riddick!" was all Steven could say before a sharpened chunk of iron bar eviscerated his jugular.