Status: On the go
Juvenile Wizard
One
The hand cuffs were cold and the steel dug into my skin.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened, I’d be out of this cell within the hour. The guard undid the cuffs with a small key; I nodded at him as he left my cell. Shit for brains. I bet he couldn’t find his own asshole in a room filled with mirrors. I needed to get out of here, or the inmates would find my asshole in the showers when I dropped the soap.
It was hard living in 1945 America as a faux pas wizard teen. Yeah, you heard me, I said wizard. It’s not my place to convince you, I’ve had a hard life so far as it is. I didn’t know where I came from, so I was sent to a man named Zacharias Ship. When a child with extremely promising power is abandoned by its parents an organization called The Hand of Merlin steps in.
The Hand of Merlin is an agency which helps locate a mentor for young promising wizards. It’s not that Zach was a bad mentor or anything, he was just a bad person altogether. I failed the training and learned out of books that I had stashed from old Zach’s place. He wouldn’t miss them. I just wish the idiot would stop hunting me.
I swivelled in the cell and pushed outwards towards the wall of the cell. The thick layers of brick which held the cell together collapsed outwards as if it they had been hit by a wrecking ball. My hands hurt for a few minutes after casting magic. Nothing major, just cramps. I basically needed something to channel the magic through. A staff would do perfectly; I wish I knew how to make one.
I ran onto the road almost into an oncoming car. The beep of the car was enough to get my brain in gear. I pulled my black leather jacket closer to me as slow began to fall.
New York looks beautiful in the winter.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened, I’d be out of this cell within the hour. The guard undid the cuffs with a small key; I nodded at him as he left my cell. Shit for brains. I bet he couldn’t find his own asshole in a room filled with mirrors. I needed to get out of here, or the inmates would find my asshole in the showers when I dropped the soap.
It was hard living in 1945 America as a faux pas wizard teen. Yeah, you heard me, I said wizard. It’s not my place to convince you, I’ve had a hard life so far as it is. I didn’t know where I came from, so I was sent to a man named Zacharias Ship. When a child with extremely promising power is abandoned by its parents an organization called The Hand of Merlin steps in.
The Hand of Merlin is an agency which helps locate a mentor for young promising wizards. It’s not that Zach was a bad mentor or anything, he was just a bad person altogether. I failed the training and learned out of books that I had stashed from old Zach’s place. He wouldn’t miss them. I just wish the idiot would stop hunting me.
I swivelled in the cell and pushed outwards towards the wall of the cell. The thick layers of brick which held the cell together collapsed outwards as if it they had been hit by a wrecking ball. My hands hurt for a few minutes after casting magic. Nothing major, just cramps. I basically needed something to channel the magic through. A staff would do perfectly; I wish I knew how to make one.
I ran onto the road almost into an oncoming car. The beep of the car was enough to get my brain in gear. I pulled my black leather jacket closer to me as slow began to fall.
New York looks beautiful in the winter.
♠ ♠ ♠
Tell me what you think.