-Street King-
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Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter or the game Saints Row (Some things are used from the game)
WARNING:
Violence
Drug use
Sexual references
And Character bashing
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"Talking"
'Thoughts'
*Small sounds*
(Authors notes)
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Over the years London has been home to many street gangs, but only one has proven that their the best, the Saints, identified by their purple flags and clothing they've show to be the toughest most hardcore gang in London, one whose story is littered with bodies and drenched in blood, they are led by one man who's only know as the street king, a man known to not just send his followers into battle but joining them in the fray and helping them in a battle.
It is said that any soldier of the saints would willingly slit their own throats or blow their own brains out to keep their gangs secrets safe if the police ever caught them. It's been seen many times too and irritates the police to no end to come so close to arresting a higher ranking solider only for that solider to kill himself when he realizes that he had no chance at escape.
But after years of trying the police did what they thought was impossible, they caught the leader of the saints. Bringing about what they thought was the end of the street gang.
Little did they know how loyal these men and women truly were.
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Dumbledore sat at his desk in his office with his face buried in his hands. He had been wrong, he had made a huge mistake and now 14 years later he had finally realized that mistake.
14 years ago the dark lord Voldemort had attacked the potters home while they were away and killed their baby sitter while trying to do the same with their sons, the one-year-old Eric Potter, and his older by one-year brother Harry Potter. While in the process of sending a killing curse at one of the children something happened and caused the curse to rebound and strike Voldemort, killing him.
Alerted by wards the Potters and Dumbledore arrived at the Potter's family cottage only to find an unconscious Harry and a crying Eric. After a few seconds Dumbledore had announced that Eric was the chosen one seeing as he was still awake while Harry was out cold and now being ignored as he lay there with a bleeding forehead.
Now 14 years later Dumbledore had started to doubt his decision in naming Eric the Boy-Who-Lived because he showed no great power whatsoever… well except for charms seeing as his mother, Lily was the charms teacher at Hogwarts.
Hoping to dispel his worries he asked Eric if he could retrieve the memory of that night so that he could make sure his choice was right. Imagine his surprise when Voldemort fired the spell at, not Eric, but Harry hitting him right in the right side of his forehead.
Now normally he could have fixed this problem and righted it by informing the potters and starting young Harry's training but there was one little problem… ok a huge problem, the Potter's had abandoned Harry at Saint Mary's orphanage only a week after the attack.
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In London's main courtroom a trial was going on. Outside, word had gotten out that the saints' leader was on trial and many newspaper reporters, news crews, and other curious bystanders were standing outside waiting for word on the trial, seeing how it wasn't open to the public. Lets take a look inside.
The courtroom was normal enough, a high stand for the judge, a shorter one for the witness's; if any, two tables in front of the judges stand; one for the prosecutor and one for the defendant, and empty seats behind a elegant fence for the public to see the trial.
The judge, an elderly African woman glared down at the defendant.
"Mister James, we have seen undeniable proof that you are responsible for over 300 deaths and maybe many more, do you really expect to leave this place a free man," she asked,
The defendant, a well built tanned skinned male, dressed in a dark grey pinstripe suit with a pair of box framed glasses over his brown eyes, scratched his nose with one of his handcuffed hands before combing his brown hair with his other hand glared back at the women before replying with a small smirk, "I figured with the stature of imitations it should be closer to 250"
The judge growled slightly before snarling, "There's no stature of limitation for murder"
"Why the fuck not" James loudly asked slamming his handcuffed fists on the table.
The judge slammed her gavel on the stand. "Watch yourself Mr. James,"
"Or what, you'll hold me in contempt of court, your already planning on giving me the chair and you think I care about you not liking me, piss off." Sneered James, waving her off.
The judge hit he gavel on the stand again before leaning forward, "I'm curious to see if you can keep your cavalier attitude with 20,000 volts running through you body," she asked smugly
James leaned forward as well ignoring the lawyer's advice to stop and replied, "And I'm curious to see if you can keep acting like a douche bag when I shove that gavel up your ass"
James' lawyer spoke up, "my client would like that stricken from the record"
Suddenly gunshots echoed throughout the room along with a scream.
"What was that?" asked the judge, watching as the police officer slowly made his way to the door. Stopping in front of it he reached for the handle only of the door to explode into splinters via shotgun blast.
Walking over the now dead policemen four masked assailants wearing body armor walked in armed with automatic rifles and shotguns. The lead man walked forward and asked, "Boss are you ok."
James shrugged, "I will be when you throw me the keys to these cuffs, give me my stuff and waste that bitch over there" he told them pointing at the judge, who ducked behind her stand.
"You heard the boss get busy," commanded the lead man.
One man wielding a shotgun walked over to the judge's stand and emptied two rounds of buckshot into the judge, while another retrieved the handcuff key off the dead cops body.
The third seemed to be holding the second cop at gunpoint with an AK-47 and asked, "Ah sir what do I do with the pig right here."
James looked at the man with a deadpanned expression, "What normally happens with pigs" he asked, seeing the blank look in the mans eyes James slapped his forehead, "There sent to the slaughter house" he snapped.
"Oh" the man said quietly, sounding embarrassed before raising he rifle and open firing at the cop.
James turned back to the one who led the attack and saw him taking a duffle bag off of around his shoulder before holding it out to him while the one who got the key from the cop's body unlocked his cuffs for him.
Opening the bag he pulled out a pair of pistols and stuck them in his pants before retrieving an AK-47 with a folding stock and double clips. Pulling out the clips he checked to see if it was full and smirked at seeing they were, pulling the slide back quickly he was greeted by his favorite sound in the whole world, a gun cocking. Hearing a gasp he leveled the barrel at the dude who was defending him who was, at the moment, hiding under the table.
"Get the fuck out of here" he said evenly while lowering the gun.
The man nodded quickly and ran out of the room tripping and stumbling the whole way.
Without any warning or even looking he aimed the gun behind him and fired a single shot.
*THUD*
The five turned and looked to see the dead body of the prosecutor fall out form under the desk, it was amazing to the others for them to see their boss do shit like that. It was like magic.
"Let's get the hell out of here" he told them walking towards the splintered door with the 4 running to surround him. Two in front and the other two in back.
"Boss, we can't go out the front we have a chopper on the roof waiting for us, it'll take us to the roof of Purgatory" The one in front told him while quickly jumping around the corner and firing off two rounds hitting a cop who was caught off guard.
"Ok" James responded looking unaffected by the gun fire, following the lead two he held his rifle over his shoulders perfectly content with letting them take care of any problems at the moment.
The group stopped at a rooftop access door, the lead two nodded to each other and burst through the door, one aiming high while the other aimed low. "It's clear" they called letting James and the others pass them and make their way up to the roof. After going up three flights of stairs the opened the door and made their way towards the civilian news chopper that they came in.
James walked up to the front passenger door and opened it while the others followed his lead; waiting for the rotors to speed up James reached into his shirt and started grasping at something. Finding what he wanted he pulled causing his face to move and deform revealing that it was a mask. Pulling it off the true face of the saints' leader was revealed to the soldiers who didn't even flinch. Smirking towards the masked soldiers he threw the realistic mask and wig out onto the rooftop before holding his eye open and removing his brown colored contact lens.
Examining his true face in a mirror he frowned slightly, his race had paled slightly from the lack of sunlight and his raven colored hair was messy from being in the tight wig for an extended amount of time. Next he rubbed his eyes, they were slightly red and irritated from having the contacts in for so long making his deep emerald green eyes stand out.
Putting his fake glasses back on he rubbed his forehead where a lightning bolt shaped scar resided and looked over to the pilot, "Lets go, I've been locked of for a week and I need what every man needs after coming out of lockdown, ya feel me,"
"Yea Boss Harry, I feel ya," answered the pilot before taking off flying in the sky over London,
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You know i found this hiding in my hard drive, I don't know why I didn't post it