Harry By Proxy

Chapter 6: The Balance

Hey, everyone!

This chapter is a continuation of the cliff-hanger from last chapter as well as establishing a headcannon for my Pasta Universe.

I want to admit it now, I enjoy the brutality and evil of creepypastas as much as the next fan. Really, I do! But…

It just doesn't settle right with me when innocents are killed. It really bothers me when the innocent kid dies or the caring mom dies or the good dad dies. And don't get me started on nice, old people dying horribly.

Although I absolutely love it when the evil abusive child molester is pulped or the rapist gets his d*ck ripped off. It's that poetic justice that makes it more justified in my eyes. I mean, it's still Creepypasta, so there'll be some random-people deaths, but I'll focus on more poetic justice.

So a large portion of this chapter is dedicated to designing the world Harry lives in and giving a basis and headcannon for the Creepypastas besides just the usual habitual, for-the-Hell-of-it murder and bloodlust. I'm taking a bit of a different approach here to try this out.

Also, "Creativity, not Reality". The headcanon I create in this chapter applies to a fictional world where 150 year old wizards are conniving to defeat undead dark lords using the power of an adolescent who prefers to ride on a broomstick to catch magical, flying balls. This is not our reality.

Sincerely,

-Crow

P.S. Trigger warning for violence and death in 3…2…

*Crash!*

The man fell onto the glass panel of his living room coffee table, blood boiling in his veins and leaking out of them simultaneously. These two punks got in his house and they were sure as Hell going to pay for it.

He grabbed one of the shards of glass and slashed at one of the two. He grinned as his shard met its mark right in the arm of the freak with a face mask and goggles, but the kid just chuckled and ripped the shard out without even wincing at the pain, if he felt it.

"Nice shot, sir." He said monotonously. "Now it's our turn."

"WHAT THE F*CK DO YOU FREAKS WANT!?" He shouted. They just bashed down his door and started attacking him. He felt he had a right to at least know why.

The freak with the carved grin and bloodshot eyes leaned close and shoved him back into the mess of shards from the table. He cried out as they made multiple slits on his hands, pretty much rendering them useless.

"We want you to pay for what you did." He replied.

"What I did!?" The man said incredulously. "What the Hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"You know exactly what you did, you bastard." The grinning creep said. "We've been watching you for a while. We know all about Jimmy."

The man's blood froze. "Wh-what the Hell are you doing near my son?!" He demanded.

"His mother's son." Facemask corrected. "She got the custody rights. She was a good mother to him. She didn't beat the crap out of him 'just because he was there', you sicko. Meanwhile, you lost the case because a) you're a drunk, b) you're a habitual gambler and tossed away your family's life savings… twice, and c) you almost gave the kid severe brain damage from the 'accidental' fall down the stairs."