2 Disgust

No answer came, but a slight nod to the right and a blind older woman I should have killed years ago relaxed next to me. The only thing a fake Seer fears more than destiny is an actual Seer, Irene Adler, or the bitch that will not die as I lovingly call her, is a walking nightmare. I once tried using a time-turner to kill her, consequences damned, and she still escaped.

The only thing stopping me from attacking was that my son was in the area and out of my sight. I understood the threat, so I smiled and waited.

The world hushed as we lingered for minutes, my muscles rigid, my magic surging madam Adler began, but I interrupted her," I hate men that hurt women, admittedly I do." Nonchalantly I pet her hand," Speak."

The order is clear and spoken with magic.

The only signs of discomfort were a minor flexing of her neck, but she would die from the pain given time. Her words were clear," The end is coming."

The crowd cheered as the American team took to the field their mascot, a giant thunderbird creating a rainbow, as they took to the sky.

This bi**h, " The end is always coming." I stand and walk to the door as I close my eyes and focus inward on my connection to my son's magic. "Do you know how many ends I have to stop each week?"

The crowd's energy acts as a mask to my senses. I hear the dead women make noise, but I am done listening.

Once in the hallway, I remove a chain of onyx stone from a pouch on my hip. Three spins, and it pulls me to the left with pace, following the trail hoping not to suffer another loss; I moved. I give no regard for slily things like walls powering through them.

Only stopping when I see my son lying on the floor surrounded by five beings. Before I genuinely registered them, my wand cut them down. A wave to pile them to the side, and I desperately check to make sure Sirius was alive.

Slowly my hands wrap around Sirius's neck, and I choke the life out of this fake.

As my son's face turns blue and hair red, I slam this creature's mind open. I hate seers even as I recover the information; it is too late. The door in front of me flies open; I twist until I hear a snap.

Slowly staying, I see my son looking on in horror, surround by Aurors. He is a good lad coming to save his old man even if it means losing his job. I could escape, but the pain in my sons' eyes force me to raise my hands and surrender.

-One month later-

It took every bit of my control not to kill Jake Chappie in his sleep. Jake was a short, overweight man with a surprisingly good demeanor for an inmate. Soft-spoken and fearful but kind and respectful, Jake was an alright guy, all things considered. However, if he did not stop snoring right now, I will crush his skull like a watermelon.

Jake had to have a dragon in his bloodline because he roared in his sleep. Getting out of bed, I walk past the other inmates in my block and stop in front of Jake. A slap to the side of his bed wakes him and everyone that managed to fall asleep up. Jakes's eyes were large and fearful as I dragged him out of bed, standing him up; I tried to explain to Jake the problem," Jake, you don't go to sleep until I fall asleep, do you understand?"

Calm as you can get, I patted him on the head, then point to the locked door.

Jake walked over and waits.

I calmly walked over to my bed and got a great night's rest. Surprisingly, Jake moved cells the next day with was a win for everyone in cell block E.

My anger came from the frightening fact that I could not escape. Say what you want about the American magical community, but they know how to lock things in cages and keep them there. The first line of defense was the ward written on the ceiling, so small and detailed many of the long-timers had sections tattoed over most of their bodies.

The gangs used different ward tattoos to identify each other on sight, the two most significant gangs being Repair and Push. Named after the repair runes that prevented the runic engraving from being damaged, the push runes prevented physical items from reaching the ceiling. Repair did just that, fixing anything broken for a price, whereas Push used the ceiling to create drugs and liquor.

In this place, runes are the only magic that worked, and the marking on the walls were both blessing and curse to creatures of magic.

There was no roll call, just a large open bay with a few places to hide.

Standing in line with a small plate filled with little food, I eat the second line of defense, a potion that entered my system again. I do not know what the potion's name was, but it threw my magical control entirely off. There were no utensils, so the magical cuffs the last defense were a constant reminder of where I was.

More importantly, where I was being held illegally. You would think killing a basilisk and saving a generation of students would earn some loyalty. If not being a lord by decorous means, I have diplomatic immunity with is enough to counter the fact that I am half-giant but sadly magical England.

As I finish eating, one of the goblins guards calls my name for visitors. Standing, I make my way over, and after being scanned and clearing three checkpoints, I am occupying a magic bubble, hoping it is not Minerva again. Before me, a tall, one-eyed black man in a lousy leather outfit, with a sliver suite case and duster ask." Trouble sleeping?"

His walk is slow and steady, a warrior then.

My smile comes easy," Not anymore, Mister?" his walk stops just out of my reach as his expression chills. " Director Fury, jail seems a strange place for a man meaning to explore the world."

I relaxed my posture, and my eyes become dead, "Even stranger for a lord."

His bow was equal parts respect and mockery," Then I have a question for you, Lord Hagrid, if you would be so kind?"

Opening the suite case, a folder is placed on a rune set, and a copy appears in the bubble. I open the folder and begin reading the file. I see a picture of Captain America and the tesseract, photos of a younger me standing side by side with the howling commandos and another with the red skull, "My question, Lord, is where is the Tesseract?"

Placing the painful memories down slow rolling my words," Director Fury, how would I know the location of this artifact that was lost before I was even born?" Looking at the folder, I continued," If you're asking if my ancestor told me the location, I am sorry to say I have no clue."

The meeting continued with countless meaningless statements. In the end, I had to escape today or face a fate worse than death; that much was clear. The Director left in a rage, and my plan crystallized as I walked back into my cell block. There was no way for me to escape from inside this prison.

My pride burned as the best option was made clear to me, ask them for help. After our break up, this was going to hurt, never mind if they would even answer.

Walking to the far end of the bay, Rico, a young Hispanic inmate with a habit of making board games, ran a betting pool of ramen and sweets. He talked so fast you would forget you won and kept playing. A hand on his shoulder stopped the game cold as I made my request," I need to speak with Monkey."

Rico looked at me for a second, and something in my eyes must have come across because an hour of negotiation disappeared as he nodded." Boss operates in the yard far side of the Nip today." Turning away, I aimed to find the leader of Repairs.

The yard was a sad place where inmates went to pretend to be free for a few hours each day. The idea of freedom, open skies, the surrounding forest, the animals in the distance was not very good charm work, but the yard was better than nothing. I deliberately made my way to an area that I habitually avoided the nip.

Sex was a driving force, and the lack of women didn't change that. The nip was a place you could get your rocks off if you need to. They even had runic tattoos that made the workers physically girls, even though most poor souls do not willingly make this choice.

Keeping my eyes to myself, I spotted Monkey, tall, white, and with a gut. His name came from his behavior just as much as his looks, disregarding his entourage and not wishing to drag this out," I need glass."

Monkey seemed as shocked by my presence as my request, seeing as I had to correct him on the ownership of a Cook last week.

As the surprise faded and greed enters his eyes, I answered his next question," How much glass do you need to be filled." Monkey step back, he recovered quickly, and a strong look around saw us alone. "You for real, big man?"

Locking eyes, Monkey took a moment to look for something.

Whatever it was, he found it too and turned around, disappearing behind some trees. Returning with a small chest, he placed it on the ground, chewed his finger, and opened the container with three drops of blood. He poured half of the perfect oval shape, smooth glass beads the size of a galleon into a bag. The bag is then handed to me with great care, "None of my people, Big man."

I received the bag no point in counting.

"Just hand them off to any of the guards; they get back to me in time." Monkeys' words are whisper almost lovingly. I leave just a quickly as I came and spot Chappie entering the yard. Reaching into the bag, I place one of the stones into my mouth and walk up to Jake. He detects me, and his fear is tangible. I am sure he says something with a note of apology as I reach forward and crush his head like a watermelon.

Removing the now yellow stone from my mouth, I replace it with a new one.

-5 hours later-

My everything hurts; it turns out I only filled half of the runic stones before the guards put me down. Even when I went out of my way to spare the guards, they did not return the curtsey.

I spent the last hour thanking my giant mother for my natural spell resistance with saved my life. Mind you, the hour before; I was cursing my mother for my natural spell resistance as something growing out of my arm tried to eat my face but couldn't, not that it seemed to mind. However, with two eyes and ears, nose and mouth back in place, man parts still on, all of my fingers, and most of my toes, my plan was going better than I thought.

Rolling to my side, I stink my bruised finger in my mouth as I vomit up the last runic stone I filled. My pride burns as I reconsider the next step.

Just how bad can they beat me, really?

A bolt of lighting pain ignites my soul, filling me to the brim and making the last few hours seem enjoyable. I abandon that series of thoughts, and the pain stops. It has been years since I made that mistake; the spell damage must be worse than I estimated.

Grasping the stone in my good hand, I close my eyes and concentrate. Unlike usual, I do not look inward for power but feel outward, like using an appendage with rigamortis; the manner is slow. Even so, there are some things you can never forget, and the pure violation of this energy haunts me to this day.

For the first time today, tears flow as I draw this power into me and inside the stone. My body trembles as I release the unclean strength, and a moan of pain escapes me.

The stone turns a sickly purple as I slowly start to surrender to the torture.

Three short breaths later and the sound of sparks fill the room. Without looking, I know they are there. No other creature fills me with more disgust than "Yao." A whisper, a prayer, a surrender all in one as I lose to the battle against pain.