RPG+ Who is the masked figure? Finished

Fool... You'll ruin everything! Nevermind attacking them, now! Get away! Get away before they--

As a flurry of spells flew, so too did the young Hufflepuff boy, having finally abandoned his desperate search for his wand. Several things happened, at that moment. The first, a shower of Red Sparks, which successfully managed to knock the mask the remainder of the way from Ben's face, sending it flying off into the grass. The second, Flipendo, well-placed and exercised with all manner of authority, hitting John Johns in the back, turning his tackle into something more akin to a move one might see in a stylized Martial Arts film (though considerably less coordinated). And the third, the eruption of fire from Delilah's wand, which instead of striking Ben, struck just over his and John's heads, igniting the dry Quidditch pitch like hay in a barn.

On his back, staring up into the sky with an odd expression, the unmasked boy seemed altogether dazed for a second or two. But as breath returned to his lungs, he thrust his hands at John Johns, to roll the other boy off of him, and shoved back, clawing grass with his hands, he stared, gaping, at the quartet of students, "Wh... what... Who..."

Fear was his mask now, as color leached from his skin, leaving him pale and shaken. Suddenly, scrambling to his feet, his eyes darted between the four, wider and wider, until they seemed as if they might pop out entirely. "Have I just been attacked!?" He asked, his voice quivering. Memory seemed to fail him. No matter how desperately he grasped for it, it slipped only further and further away, until it was as though he could scarcely recall anything that had happened... Months, faded from his mind, vanished.

He stammered, fighting for words, then all at once, turned to see the flames that rose hot and red, black smoke curling swiftly into the air. With a strangled cry of panic, he turned and did the only thing he could think to do. He ran. Ran from the Pitch and towards the forest… Ran from the students, from the fire... and from the mask.

From where she stood she could see the Puff boy running up to the angry kid, who now was staring at her furiously and firing a bright light at her direction. Her own spell, the red glowing Periculum, flew at him and the two light almost met each other. As she was twisting her body in hopes of jumping away she saw it flashing at her right eye, vanishing somewhere behind her. She was too slow, she realized, as a ripping sound was followed by hot pain in her shoulder.

She had a curse on the tip of her tongue, but as she was trying to speak, she lost the grip of her wand. It fell with a muffled rustle at her feet and was now barely visible through the wild grass. Her left hand touched her shoulder and found ripped clothes, but also some sticky and warm liquid: blood. "Huuuuuuuu, great," she pressed through gritted teeth, while she avoided to look to closely. She feared what she might would see. 

Before her very eyes she watched as the Puff boy wrestled with the other kid on the ground. Her spell had missed both of them, unfortunately, but at least the Ravenclaw was down. "Get th … hhhh." She tried to speak and pointed with her red fingers at the area beside the boy but she had trouble swallowing. Only now she dared to look at her shoulder and saw her blood soaked clothes and open wound. She couldn't think but just knew, that this was bad. This was entirely different than being hit by a Bludger.

She was losing a lot of blood with every passing second, so she tried to get some pressure at her shoulder, but the wound was larger than her palm, covering not only her shoulder, but parts of her neck as well.

Her vision went blurry and she felt as if she had to throw up. This is not good at all. At this point she fought to keep her eyes open, but lost her feelings in her legs. The taste of iron was back in her mouth and she could also smell the thick scent, making her gag once more. She stumbled and fell back on the somewhat soft grass; nevertheless she let out a pained sob. Her bat was laying a few feet away, and she only now saw that the angry boy was running.

She wished she could feel victorious, but with one last angry glance at the back of the boy, she felt her consciousness slipping away.  

John felt like he was in slow motion as he charged Domino. He didn’t have that brave Gryffindor spirit to draw from, or so the Sorting Hat told him. Instead, he had to summon the strength and courage of all the action heroes from all the films he had ever seen. A choir sung in his head to champion his cause. At the moment he was halfway to Domino, that action hero spirit hit him.

Specifically, right in the back.

It was like Chuck Norris himself lifted John up and threw him with the force of a torpedo. The boy sailed through the air over some inhuman distance that could only be explained by magic. Just like every action movie, all the special effects accompanied his ascent. Red sparks lit his opponent like a firecracker, sending his face covering to the ground. Streaks of fire zoomed past his head as John finally tackled their opponent to the ground.

“Yeah,” John raised his fist up high, the other hand holding his foe down, “Somebody get me a pizza cutter, ‘cuz I just served up some Domino’s!”

John was never going to get that boy’s moniker right.

In his celebration pose, John forgot that Domino, now Ben, was still fully conscious. John was quickly pushed aside as Ben looked at the others. This boy was very different from the one that donned the mask. Afraid of the emboldened Hogwarts defenders, Ben ran toward the Forbidden Forest to make his escape. John, being a prefect, was the only authority figure around to stop him. He had to at least try.

“Hey, entry into the Forbidden Forest is illegal!” John cried out to the fleeing Ben. “Along with all the other stuff you just did!”

Using his hands to push himself off the ground, one of John’s hands landed on the infamous Maguffin: Ben’s mask. John forgot about the chase and picked up the mask as he rose to his feet. So this was the item that turned a simple boy into the masked nemesis Domino. This is what had the wizarding world in a tizzy. What would John do with such an item? Perhaps he could mount it on the common room wall and tell his harrowing tale to all the first years that would come after him. Of course, he could just turn it in to the nearest professor…but what if he put it on? Find out what made Ben do all those things. That would be right after John did his excellent Bane impressions.

As his hand slipped into the inside of the mask, John’s wonder turned into a wretched scowl. It was drenched with the sweat of defeat and their enemy. It was disgusting! How could anyone sweat so much?!

“Ew gross!” John exclaimed as he tossed the mask like a frisbee. The cursed item flew across the field and into the raging fire. It was the only way to disinfect it of the salty excrement. Who knew if the ashes would still be safe to handle.

Like a true Hufflepuff, John had the sense to flee from the rapidly approaching flames. He ran towards the others and saw that Marcia had finally fallen from her wounds.

“Let’s get outta here!” John told the others as went for one of Marcia’s hands “And help me drag her out of here!”

John shout in victory.
Grabs mask, tosses into fire in disgust
Helps get everyone out

“oh, bloody hell!” Parcel exclaimed. His spell didn’t hit the intended target this time either. But this time it wasn’t from a lack of aiming, it came from that Hufflepuff prefect jumping in the way! With an exhausted expression on his face, Parcel looked at the John of all Johns fly through the air, Parcel secretly hoped it would leave a bruise in the morning, perhaps then the baboon wouldn’t jump in front of other’s spells like that again.

Parcel raised an eyebrow in surprise, it did seem to work exceptionally well. John had the masked boy down on the ground in no time, and contrary the feeling of a death match they had earlier, now it just looked like two children scuffing on the ground.

A good Auror knows when to rest, was something Parcel’s grandfather had said, and Parcel guessed that this was no time for rest. Pulling his eyes away from the two boys wrestling on the ground, Parcel started to check on the rest. He checked his surroundings first, it would really suck if more of these masked crazies started emerging, but to his relief Parcel couldn’t see any more of them. Though what he did see, put his mental state back in high alert.

“Shit, that’s blood!” Parcel exclaimed as he looked at the beater girl. Taking a glance back at John and the masked boy Parcel made sure that John had everything under control before he himself ran off to the girl that was now spilling herself out over the field.

“Are-.. Are you okay?” Parcel asked as he came up to the girl. Her expression was glossy, and Parcel didn’t seem to be getting any contact from her. Had she perhaps gone into shock? Would he have to… would he have to punch her back to reality? Parcel glanced down at his own hand as he was making a fist. He had read that if you saved people from drowning you sometimes had to punch them, so they didn’t pull you under in an attempt to stay alive, would Parcel have to punch the girl bleeding out in front of him? Just to get her back to reality…

Before he could make a decision, the girl in front of him started falling backwards. Parcel frantically tried to catch her in the fall, but he didn’t think he was all that successful, because the body landed on the grass with a dull thump.
“No! No! Hello, no, don’t close your eyes! Hey! HEY!” Parcel was fumbling with what to do, he was no doctor, and this was definitively not something he had been training for on his spare time. Parcel pulled his sweater off. His first objective would probably have to be to try and keep what’s supposed to be inside of her from gushing out.

Parcel lost track of the time, it was hard to keep his food down while touching the warm liquid that kept spilling from the wound on the girl’s neck and shoulder. After a time that could be anywhere from a minute to several hours, John came hurrying over.

“Let’s get outta here!” John shouted. Parcel looked up at him in a daze, it took a couple of seconds for his brain to kickstart back up again. Yes! They would definitively have to get out of here!
“And help me drag her out of here!”

Parcel finally nodded to John. “Yes, lets go, we have to drag her up to the school grounds, I think she’s losing to much blood”
Parcel was no doctor, but he thought the girl had become progressively whiter in her complexity. The sweater Parcel was pressing up against the wound was becoming heavier and heavier by the minute, so Parcel’s guess was that the sweater was soaking up more of the blood then actually stopping it.
As john took hold of one of the girls’ arms, so did parcel and he awkwardly started to pull the girl off the field while trying to keep the sweater pressed over her wound at the same time.

The frightened boy fled from the scene of the crime, towards the forest that he was told not to go into. The Prefect had tried to stop him but the Hufflepuff’s voice did not reach Ben’s ears. His body trembled as he ran, trying hard not to look back at his attackers. His pale face, his shaky breath and the drops of cold sweat from his forehead showed how scared he truly was… But alas, none of them could see it… Ben was now on his own. Scared, confused and alone…

The Slytherin’s life force quickly started to fade as the red liquid oozed out of her. The last thing Marcia heard was the voice of the Gryffindor boy fumbling around in panic as he tried to keep her awake. She did not listen to him. The last thing she saw was the back of the fleeing boy as her consciousness faded. She didn't even know that the ‘Puff boy’ she had previously insulted was now taking charge of her rescue, lifting her unconscious body and helping to carry her back to the castle. With John taking one arm, Paracelsus grabbing her other arm and Delilah following behind the trio, the four students hobbled back to the castle as quickly as they could.

Marcia’s life rested in their hands now. Getting her to the hospital wing was the priority now. Her life was in the hands of these boys - which would probably be a cause of worry for her if she were conscious...

They quickly left the pitch, heading back to the castle. None of them looked back. None of them considered putting the fire out. None of them considered finding the lost boy that ran into the forest… They all had only one thing on mind: Marcia’s safety. It was the most important thing now…

The pitch fell quiet as their footsteps faded. The only sound that broke the silence was the sound of grass being scorched. The smell of burning spread through the air. Ben’s sweat filled mask was cast aside in disgust, tossed into the burning grass as though it were nothing.

Soon enough, the small fire faded. There was nothing left behind now… Except a small patch of burnt grass, a small pool of blood where Marcia had fallen, splatters of blood leading back to the castle and one very dry mask, sterile and cleaned of sweat.

The mask was full of dark magic… Did anyone really think a small flame cast by a first year would turn it to crisp? No… the flames weren’t strong enough… The mask just sat there, in the empty grounds… Left there, for anyone to take...

END