The Fall of Lord Voldemort

My fanfiction is based on a crossover between Death Note and Harry Potter. This story describes the defeat of Lord Voldemort through the use of the Death Note, and the consequence of the power it has given to Harry Potter.

Harry Potter laughed maliciously into the darkness of the forest. Voice echoing in the still silence. He had at last, fufilled his lifelong ambition. He had defeated Lord Voldemort. In the distance, Harry watched ahead with pure malevolence at the cloaked figure trembling, uncontrollably towards the earthy floor of the forest. The grotesque white face starred bewilderingly into the dark, the inanimate bodies of all his loyal Death Eaters lying hopelessly on the moist ground. With gradual steps, Harry walked over to where Voldemort now lay. He crouched down just far enough for Voldemort to see him, face to face.

“The supposed most powerful wizard of the world, is now lying at my very feet. Now how does that happen?! Well obviously if you knew, you wouldn’t be lying there looking so foolish would you?!” Harry laughed.

“You see, I have come to possess a certain book. One that allows me to kill anyone I like just by knowing their name and face. And so, here is the part where I must applaud you, for having your escaped convict followers land themselves with each of their faces in the Daily Prophet. You’ve really done too much!... Why I can’t even begin to thank you for showing your face here tonight!” Harry smirked at Voldemorts expression of confusement and began to clap his hands animatedly before continuing to speak.

“You see, the book I have is called a Death Note. I not only possess this Death Note, but I also posses the eyes of a Death God. Would you like me to elaborate on that more?!" He ridiculed.

"Well, the reason I applauded you is because I have the power to see the name and life span of anyone that walks this very earth. Sooooo, thaaaat means, not only am I able to gain knowledge of any persons real name without asking, but I can kill them as well, and by any means I feel like!”. Harry stood up from the ground and began walking vigourously around Voldemort.

“Since you can’t talk back to me, because I’ve cursed you until the point where your untimely death occurs, I should inform you that you should be dead in approximately... 20 seconds. Lucky you, you’ll be able to join all of your pathetic followers again!” Harry smirked.

“I just want you to know that this is unfortunately very personal. I guess I’m not comfortable with there being two renowned powerful beings in this world. I guess I felt there was not enough room. Well, time is running out and I should ensure you, that very shortly, you will, die, a most deserved, excruciating, fucking death”.

Harry began laughing aloud as he walked away from Voldemort, stopping momentarily to pick up something from the ground. As Harry examined the slender wand that had once belonged to Dumbledore and Voldemort, he took out the ripped piece of parchment in his pocket and cast a spell with the new wand, to levitate it back down towards the place where Voldemort lay. Like a feather, the parchment floated towards Voldemort, landing delicately in his outstretched hand.

Gripping it lightly and bringing it relunctantly towards his face, Voldemorts eyes widened with fear as he read each name of his deceased followers, written boldly on the parchment. Beside each name was a description of how they would die, and the time in which it would happen. As he gritted his teeth together, anger rising in his veins, he crumpled the parchment into his fist, using the last remaining power he had left in his body.

Suddenly, Voldemort began to shake and choke on the nothingness that seemed to engulf his lungs. His eyes filled with terror as the Death God Rem towered before him, smiling with his clown-like mouth, black eyes staring vehemently down at him. As Voldemort struggled to breath he clasped his skeletal white fingers around his own throat, trembling, and screaming into the dead night. With a final, loud shrieking of pain, blood began bursting from his eardrums, pouring out through his tightened lips and falling slowly out of the very corners of his eyes. Harry laughed to himself in the distance. The sound of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, echoed in the silence, the roots of the trees scraped the forest floor, dragging the fresh corpses beneath the earthy soil.

It had almost been 3 months since the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The wizarding world had fallen into the power of Harry Potter. Day by day, more bodies of wizards and witches surfaced the annihilated streets. Some of them deserved it. Most did not. There was a heavy silence that stunned the world. People lived in fear of being killed by the omnipotent, Harry Potter. Those who followed him did so unwillingly, but at least it ensured their own families were safe. As the Ministry of Magic finally fell, Harry took over control, and enforced new laws for the wizarding world to follow. Any one who did not obey them was killed along with their families.

Harry Potter smiled with satisfaction as he walked down the run-down streets of Hogsmeade. With wand and Death Note in Hand, he trudged the heavy snow beneath his invisiblity cloak, the Death God - Rem, hovering beside him. As he walked into the Hogshead pub around the corner, he smirked slightly at the unsuspecting witches and wizards, their names and lifespans floating above each of their heads. Harry took out the Elder wand from his pocket and transfigured the tip into a black dipped brush. As the last pages of the book closed silently in his hand, the Hogshead was silent.

Andrews Fanfic :O

My fanfic is about how the world of Avatar would be if they had lost the war.

Darkness… Fear… Uncertainty… The only words that could possibly describe the world we live in. A constant scarlet stains the sky – the flames of the fire nation slowly but surely destroy everything in its wake. The “fire flood” was the Fire Lords’ idea; burn everything to the ground, ensuring that the people of the other nations have no hope. But we lost our hope a long time ago… The Avatar.

 Our last drop of hope was taken from us; violently and swift. Everyone would pass on rumours of the Avatar and his companions’ ploys to dethrone the Fire Lord and dismantle his empire. Villages would commune and pray for the Avatar, for the Avatar was their only chance at freedom from the Fire Nation.

When word of the Avatars death surfaced people lost hope, their tenacity and will to live seemed to wither. Farms went unharvested, ripe fruit left to spoil. Our village became a bleak place to live and finally when the flames of the fire flood were seen over the horizon everything turned into anarchy. The Avatar united us; with him gone we were lost, fleeing the inevitable. My parents used to tell me that things will turn out ok, even joke that we will own a farm and orchid – They sit in silence now, their faces as uncertain as the coming future.

…

Katara breathed deeply. “Was there anything that we could have done..?” she thought. “Anything that could have changed the way things unfolded” She shuddered as a tear emerged. She looked up as Zuko approached. “We have to keep moving” he sighed. “Is this what our lives are now? The constant running and hiding just to survive? Survive for what!” Zuko screamed as he spat a breath of fire at the ground.

“We can’t give up hope, not for our own sakes. But for everyone that has died fighting for freedom and peace” – Katara tried to appear confident, but as she looked around at the faces of her friends, she knew it was useless.

They had been running for 3 months now, Ever since the Avatar lost the battle with the Fire Lord they retreated into hiding, praying that the reincarnated Avatar would emerge and ignite the world’s beacon of hope. Everyday they would hear more ill news of the fates of other rebel forces. Everyday they would be forced to scavenge through rubble and burnt paddocks to find anything edible to sustain them for one more day, just to repeat the cycle.

Even if by some miracle the Avatar was reborn and they found it. It would be merely a child, the war had only ended 2 months ago and yet half the world was engulfed in flame. It seemed all pointless, an impossible task.

Katara ran the moment of the Avatar’s death through her mind like quicksilver, again and again. The pain of knowing her family and everyone she loved will soon be dead throbbed through her constantly. Katara jumped as a stale piece of bread thudded besides her.

“C’mon we have to keep moving” Zuko urged.

Keegan's Fanfic

Tekken: Birth of the Street Fighter

Synopsis
My fanfic has been a crossover between three popular and ongoing video game storylines: Tekken, Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter. The story itself is about a rogue warrior (Ryu) who is looking to avenge his father's death at the hands of Jinpachi Mishima several years before this the tournament takes place. Ryu takes his time working his way up the ladder before reaching his final fight with Jinpachi, which can take place in a sequel to this.


It was a cold, dark winter night. The air was cool but calm with nothing but the sound of cheers and excitement roaring throughout the halls of the Outer Realm Palace. The main fighting arena was host to thousands of people who had travelled from many other realms to witness the greatest fighting tournament ever to exist: The King of the Iron Fist Tournament.

A single, sandy ring lay foot in the centre of this great arena, with thousands of eyes laid upon it. A tall, muscular figure stood alone in the middle of this ring, head down, hands clenched into fists with the sweat from his forehead dripping down the sides of his face.

A sudden silence fell upon the crowd creating a spine-chilling atmosphere sending fear into the eyes of the people that were watching. The fearful eyes of the people that watched looked to the large balcony that stretched out over the ring, along with the lone figure that stood at its centre. There were three seats that were filled by the masters of the tournament with a forth empty seat situated at the end of the other three. A dark, shadowy figure started to emerge from the tunnel behind the masters with footsteps that struck reverence into the eyes of those who lay witness to such a sight. He was the forth and final master of the Tournament, and Leader of the Outer Realm: Jinpachi Mishima.

Jinpachi was known to be the greatest and most powerful master out of the four masters. So powerful was such a man, that not one of his fellow leaders dare defy his orders. Jinpachi finally entered the arena with his large, fearful footsteps continuing to echo throughout the arena sending more fear through those that were watching. The large beast of a man began to take his place in his chair continuing to look over the arena and finally the lone character standing in the middle of the ring.

"So you made it to the final Ryu, I guess I underestimated you" Jinpachi said.

His deep and horrifying voice ricocheted off of the walls in the arena creating an essence of death to those in the arena with every word he spoke.

"Your father would be proud" Jinpachi grunted.

Ryu stood there speechless; his hands began to tighten into a fist so tight that his over sized veins began pop out of his skin. He slowly raised his head so that he could make direct eye contact with Jinpachi. A sense of power seemed to project from this warriors glare, a sense of revenge. The frown on his face said it all, he was there to win.

The smirk on Jinpachi's face seemed to widen with enjoyment when he finally announced to all that watched "I now call out our 6 time Realm defending champion; Scorpion!"

A sudden roar exploded from the crowd. Cheers and excitement all packed together to create a sound so loud that glass bottles around the arena began to shatter. A gate towards the entrance of the ring was seen to rise with the image of a tall, black figure emerging from the darkness. He was dressed in a black and gold ninja-like uniform with a metal mask in the shape of a skull covering his nose and mouth. Confidence was seen to follow this fighter everywhere, but was mostly seen through his pale white eyes which had demon written all over them.

Ryu still showed no emotion as Scorpion entered the ring. The two stood side by side facing Jinpachi and the other Masters.
"LET THE MATCH BEGIN!!!!!" Jinpachi bellowed enthusiastically.
The two warriors bowed once to the masters, then turned to face each other to bow again. Ryu's thoughts constantly seemed to be racing through his mind,

"I've been waiting for this moment ever since this creature claimed the life of my father. I have to win this not only for him but also me and the entire Earth."

Both fighters prepared and moved into their fighting stances. They glared one another in the eye waiting for the call.

"This is it" Ryu thought. "Only one shall leave this arena victorious. That one will be me."

Jinpachi stood there, chest out again ready to bellow. "FIGHT!!!!!!"

The match began with a swift kick by Scorpion to Ryu's head with a series of formative punches and quick kicks to the downed warrior’s torso and head. Scorpion stepped away from the challenger back into his original fighting stance. Ryu slowly rose to his feet again bleeding from the mouth and a small cut at the tip of his forehead
"Get over here!" Scorpion yelled. The long chain around Ryu's wrist was seen to project from the open palm of Scorpion's hand. The crowd watched in awe as Ryu was being thrown around the ring helpless with this great weight wrapped around his wrist.

All when it seemed that Ryu had given up and that Earth's only hope was now on the verge of defeat, a sudden spark in Ryu's eye seemed to project the true warrior within. A sudden power deep within Ryu's soul started to emerge and show his true power. Ryu grabbed the chain around his wrist and pulled Scorpion towards him with this new power he had just gained. Simultaneously, he cupped his hands at his side preparing for a move so powerful that it even made Jinpachi sit on the edge of chair.

"HHHAAAADDDOOOUUUKKKEEENNN!!!!!!!"

A huge beam of light propelled from Ryu's cupped hands heading towards the stunned body of Scorpion. The light was so bright that it blinded not only the audience but all four masters as well.
As Ryu's Hadouken came to an end, so did the match. Scorpion’s body seemed to have vanished from existence with nothing but his metal face mask left in the centre of the ring.  A completely baffled crowd watched in wonder as Ryu rose to his feet once again and faced the four masters.

He slowly raised his index finger of his right hand to point at Jinpachi.

“Jinpachi Mishima, I’m coming for you” Ryu yelled as he turned to walk out of the arena. An eruption of cheers rang from every person from the Earth Realm within the arena. Claps and anger roared through the palace with some Outer Realm fans attempting to attack Ryu. But he didn’t care; he continued to walk calmly and confidently towards the exit knowing that one day he will have his revenge.