It was about a month ago when they first came. The hooded witches and wizards I later knew as death eaters. I had just returned home from base, and was just finishing putting my 12 gage back together after cleaning when a knock came at the door. It was my wife who answered the door.

"Hello?" I heard. Then there was a yell, and a burst of green light. I ran to the door to see my wife lying on the ground. She was dead

My mind went numb. I had seen death, and the death of close friends to boot, but to have the love of my life slaughtered in my own home...it was more than I could take.

'what...' was the only thought my mind could conjure. I tore my eyes away from her lifeless face and looked instead at the people at the door.

They wore black robes, with hoods and masks concealing their faces. One pointed a small stick at me.

"Crucio!" a women's voice cackled.

I felt pain, sheer and indescribable pain. I was being stabbed, torched, and shot all at once. Through the pain I saw my three year old son come stumbling into the room, his bear still in his arms.

"NO!" I yelled, but it was too late. The green light hit him too, and he fell over dead.

The women lowered the stick, and the pain subsided.

"Oh muggle killing!" she laughed, "half the reason I became a death eater!" She raised it again, but she miscalculated me. Years of military training had prepared me to overcome physical pain quite quickly, and I managed to role out of the way before another shot could get me. I sprung to my feet and dove over the coffee table, grabbing my recently repaired shotgun on my way by. I kicked the table over to give me some cover and fed some ammo into my gun.

The hooded figures were still laughing; I could tell they were toying with me. Anger rose in me, and I clung to it. It was the only way to stave off the horror of what I just witnessed.

"Who the hell are you?!" I roared. Another cackle reached my ears.

"Oh, the muggle thinks he can make demands now!" she said.

"What the hell do you mean 'muggle'?" I growled.

"Since your about to die" she said, "I suppose it can't hurt to say that a muggle is someone without magic. A dirty, rotten waste of flesh that lacks the power of we wizards. Or as I like to think of you, sport."

Wizards? I thought to myself. Normally I would have thought the idea crazy, but I'm not a stupid man. I had seen three spells already, and been hit by one of them. I didn't need more proof.

"Any last words muggle?" I knew she was right behind the table.

"Yeah" I said, drawing what I thought would be my last breath, "see you in hell!" I sprung up, swinging my barrel around, and firing a scatter shot at the hooded figures. The women dove to the ground just in time, but her companions were blasted off their feet. I cocked my gun and had it had the witch's head before she had time to think.

"Oh come now" she snarled. "You don't think I'd be killed by a mere muggle do you?"

I was about to retort when I realized she had her wand (for that's what I figured it had to be) jammed into my floor and had lit in on fire. She took my momentary distraction as an opportunity to twist away. With a loud crack, she vanished into thin air.

The fire was well beyond control by this point and I rushed to the two I had shot. One was dead, but life still forced its way through the other's veins. I looked over at my wife and child, wanted to save their bodies, but it was too late, the fire had consumed them. Instead, I hoisted the hooded man up and dragged him from the burning building.

Don't get me wrong, I had no intention of saving his life. I just wanted to ask a few questions while he could still answer.

I threw him against the pavement of my driveway.

"Who are you?" I roared into his face. He drew a ragged breath.

"A death eater, muggle."

"What the hell is a 'death eater'?"

He laughed, "The disciples of Lord Voldermort, the most powerful dark wizard of all time. And there are many more of us muggle, oh so many more." He coughed up some blood. I ignored it. "The ministry of magic will be after you too" he said. "You aren't supposed to known about us. I doubt even Dumbledore could help you know..."

I shook him by the shoulders, "who is Dumbledore?"

"A fool. A flea-bitten, muggle-loving, traitor to his kind. He's in Scotland, running his precious school, and no help to you here."

"Well then" I said, cocking my gun, "I guess I know where to start." He was about to make another snide comment, but I blew his head off before he could. As horrible as it sounds, it gave me not just a little satisfaction.

When the fire died down, I drew a fire-proof lock box from the wreckage. Inside I had everything I might need. Well, everything to cause destruction anyway.

(A/N Okay, just to set the record straight, this is NOT, I repeat, NOT a Men in Black/Harry Potter crossover. I just thought the name was clever, and apparently I was wrong. I just wanted to break the stereotype that the book has appeared to place on muggles. Also, this story takes place during Voldemorts FIRST rise to power, so Harry, Ron, or Hermione will be appearing. James and Sirius might show up, I'm not sure yet. Anyway, until next chapter -saber)