The Muggle in St Mungo's

Chapter Five: Favours to be Paid

Chapter Five: Favours to be Paid

The man's uncontrolled punches flew past every dodge Scarlett made, like wild rocks being thrown at her from a mere metre away. Her leg swept out in a wide, graceful art, connecting with the werewolf's ankles, throwing him off balance before he landed in an awkward position as the werewolf tried to spin around in mid-air. The loud satisfying crack of joints broke what could be the man's back and a smile across Scarlett's face. 'Bring it on pretty boy,' she threatened.

The werewolf slowly turned over, clearly unable to get straight back up from whatever damage he had done when he fell to the ground. Lying flat on his back with an expression that reminded Scarlett of a goldfish without water, she approached the stunned man, his eyes closed once more. Like a hunter claiming her dead prize, Scarlett set one foot on the man's quickly rising and falling chest, which unfortunately she had done so many times before. Easiest fight I've been in for a while, Scarlett thought, as she applied a little more pressure under her heal. 'Stay down,' she said.

Scarlett was momentarily distracted by the sound of the boy's shuffling on the floor, as he lowered his head so it was eye level with the hospital floor, apparently looking for the crafted stick again. Once more Scarlett raised her hand so that it was level with her eyes, the hand which she had handled the-the...wand with. Her hand was raw as red meat, but Scarlett couldn't help but touch it. She ran her index finger down the face of her palm, where etched into her skin were all the knobs and seems of the stick were printed into her skin. It was surely a burn, but it felt like it was nothing more than a mark the sides of your shoes leave when one sat cross-legged for too long.

Once again, Scarlett felt immense pain, not because of her burn now permanently etched into her skin, but because of the ground rushing up to meet her. Her thoughts were crushed, just like her body, as she hit the hospital floor. But it did not stop there. The werewolf did not show the same mercy Scarlett gave him when she had told him to stay down, but continued to kick her as she laid on her side. Next, she was hanging by her ankles, receiving blows to the stomach, until the man thought he had done enough damage to prevent her from getting back up. Like a little child throwing away a doll when he got too bored with it, the werewolf dropped Scarlett as if she were no heavier than a sack of potatoes. Scarlett crumbled, and as he hoped, she did not dare to get back up.