Taping Into Life: Mash potato
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Naruto or their characters or plot-line or voice or their colors …..This is a work of fiction, a fan fiction...
Summary: Dead bodies in bundles and frowns on red devils. Sliver knife shines as crimson angels evolves. Emerald green pearl that comes with spring, never give up on your dearest dream. When the snake dies, when the fox cry, when all hope seems gone, simply remember your dearest dream and then …...
THANKS TO : endlessvamp for pointing out and fixing my errors
Chapter 1 : Fate Beckons
The weather was beyond anything anyone had ever seen before. Lighting had strike many places on land and lit trees like candles sticks. The rain that came down like needles on the skin drowns the land with its water. The weather was so gruesome that the humans around the area had locked themselves in their houses, barricading their windows and doors then hiding themselves at the lowest point of their sanctuary. No man or animal would dare venture outside in this kind of weather if they could but a wizard turn civilian might.
Earlier before, the ex-wizard Harry Potter was at home enjoying a cup of hot tea, watching his dog; Olor , shed fur on his leather sofa. Then suddenly, out of the blue he had the unshakable urge to go outside, as if the whole world was turning backward just for him to be out there. So after fighting with his dog ,who consistently kept slipping through the creak of his front door before he closed it; to stay home, the ex-wizard found himself walking on a mug covered path with an umbrella (that he had second thoughts about having in a thunder storm) to protect him.
A couple minutes away from his house, the neophyte Civilian picked up an energy source lingering about that made him paused. The energy felt great deal like Magic the ex-wizard felt from the natives of the dimension but the Magic was so weak that if it were not for the 'dirty' feeling he sense from it, the wizard might have mistakenly thought it was animal. After pin pointing the weak signature location, he continued on head but at noticeable faster pace.
Harry went through trees upon trees and walk through quicksand like mud pits before he had the feeling like he was closer to the source. During his little adventure, he spelled his eyes to help him detect any human like movement, after all he did not feel the need to be mold by a bear any time soon nor did he want to be attack by some paranoid mercenary. Up-ahead he caught a bit of movement against a tree, as if someone(or something) was using it as a leverage to keep themselves up, and the thought of someone (or something) bleeding to death alone with no help prompted Harry into running. He was aware that he was making a lot of noise as he went splashing into puddles and such but he didn't care. If the Magic was of a mercenary they'll know he was here, hence the less chance of being decapitated out of shock and if it were an animal well...he'll cross that bridge when he get there.
Harry within 50 feet of the source, stopped. He still could not determine if it was a human or animal, all he saw was a black thing that could possible be his death leaning on a tree. Decision, Decisions, thought Harry.
A shiver claw up his spine as a loud roar of thunder vibrated through the air. The space between him and the figure lit up brightly. Flames spreading and sticking to wherever it could. Harry covered his eyes at the sudden heat and unconsciously took a step back. Spying though his fingers he looked through the fire, just in time to see the figure drop. Harry being Harry, without his previous hesitation quickly tap into his magic and created a barrier around himself. Bear or not, no living thing deserved to be burn to death and with that thought, he took a deep breath and ran into the fire.
He found himself in a company of a tree. Clutching to his side with his free hand; his only hand. He shifted his weight so most of it would be on the tree. He tried to think out a way to help his situation but any idea would slip through his mind like a well oiled bottle in one's hand. Eventually he gave up trying to grasp his thoughts and rested his head on the body of the tree; it was getting to heavy for his spine to hold up.
After a minute or so, a bolt of lightning strike the ground, so close to him that he could partially feel the wondering electricity in the air. The smell of smoke filled the area. A poetic smile stitched its way onto his face; fitting that he was going die by his and his clan beloved element. He could not step back as an uncomfortable amount of heat waved across his face but he mistakenly did shifted his weight on his other leg which gave out under the little pressure and fell face first into a mud filled puddle. Not even three seconds later his lungs tried to squeeze oxygen into his system. Mud bobbles formed as his body cough and grasped for breath without his consent, with no chakra, no working hand to lift him up and his life flowing out of his midsection along with the stress of traveling this far after today's event, his brain, in a desperate attempt to save energy, turned off.
Death by drowning in a puddle is pathetic.