Chapter Text
When Regulus Black was 12 years old, he understood the true horrors behind the world he had been raised in.
Oh how he remembered the view vividly, his Mother and Father, ultimately known as Walburga and Orion Black, had taking him and his brother, Sirius, on a little fun day out. That was the first time he experienced being a Death Eater. You see, the Death Eaters get different treatment by 'Him'. They are allowed one day on the set, and to watch the little 'ragdolls' play The Game, known as Manhunt.
He will never forget that day, atleast he thinks, as he accidentally made eye contact with a player pummelling to her death. Player 357, she was. A number that will be carved into his psyche for eternity. He remembers how he let a tear drop, after all, that was the first day he discovered what slaughter was. He remembers hiding his tear with the tacky, golden Thestral mask. Yet, his Mother sadly knew him too well.
She called him weak, unmanly, and an utter disgrace to The Game. The rest of that story is forgotten to him, apart from pure, sickly torture.
A singular day later, was the last day he saw his brother. A sorry excuse aswell bless the sod, said he couldn't deal with it anymore. At only aged 14, his brother left him to fend for himself. The most pathetic thing is that he ran off to a rich family, the Potter's. In which the dad, Fleamont Potter, had won 'The Game' once.
At age 12, Regulus had forgotten how to breathe, he doesn't think he has managed to since, or if he will ever again.
-Present Day-
Regulus ran his hands throughout his soft black curls, as he focuses on his university work scattered over his desk. To be rather honest, he didn't need to do this, he would always be bloody loaded and not have to work, but the need to concentrate on something overwhelms his mind constantly. Anyways, he'd love to live like a normal 17 year old, so this was the way of getting it.
It was around a day or two until the cards start spreading throughout the country, and he had been selected to be a Salesman this year, basically scattering a shit ton of propaganda until someone offers their souls up. Atleast, thats how his father described it. After, he would be a guard in the game, an 'Invisible' to be precise.
He thought he would never be dragged into the games, always behind a safety guard, as if seeing pigs go into slaughter, or watching horses race. But he obviously underestimates the power of his parents.
Regulus heard his mother call him downstairs, seemingly to discuss his attire for the selling, so he gave in, slammed the book shut and made his way downstairs gracefully, as a foot put out of pace in Grimmauld Place is strictly forbidden.
"My dear Regulus, dear child." She began, sickingly sweet, like poison. "Change of plan lovely, get into the attire, go down to the train stations. Your starting your work now, and don't forget how estatic the Riddler is to see your work."
"Yes, Mother." His reply was smooth, covering his emotions over like a sheet, as his mother touched his shoulder ever so slightly, a flinch spread throughout him. He watched her expression change.
Her voice turned cold, "No weakness dear boy, he doesn't like that. Weak boys turn into dead boys." With that, she digs her fingernails into his shoulder, tugged a sharp smile then walked off.
He sighed, pulling onto his hair. For fucks sake, can't a man get his university work done? So, Regulus starts making his way upstairs and into his room, and he starts to get ready.
Regulus' outfit is rather neat, he liked it on him. It isn't him though. It's quite fancy really, a black long-sleeved button up, probably so it doesnt reveal scars, dark grey trousers and a tie to match. He slid on his rings, grabbed the cards and shoved them into his pocket aswell with a few other things such as his phone and wallet, then left the house.
———
He made his way to the location, he is expected to start of at Paddington Station. Regulus had been assigned to cover the majority of London, with one other Salesman each county. They have to finish either within a week, or between eachother, once they reach 500 people. Out of those people, 456 will have to play. Poor sods.
He might just be a rich stuck-up cow, but London really is full of the poor now isn't it? But Regulus cannot think this way, he is different to how he was brought up..but still. Urgh.
He walks up to the first person he sees on the long list on his phone. Name: Peter Pettigrew, apparently.
The slightly chubby lad is crashed out asleep on a bench, and quite frankly, fucking reeks. He has greasy hair and his clothes are torn apart, he also, and the most noticable feature of him, has a black eye habitating a portion of his face.
Regulus sits down and taps his shoulder lightly. The lad jumps up like a war veteran and almost punches the shit out of him. Valid, he thinks.
He clears his throat, wording what he has been told to speak. "Hello Peter Pettigrew. What a marvelous day, isn't it?"
"Who are you." He mumbled, poor sod looks half asleep. Regulus almost chuckled at that thought, but contains himself.
"Ah, thats none of your concern. You see, I have a fabulous opportunity for you. If you play a game of Uno with me, and you win, I will give you, lets say, a hundred pounds. However, if you win, you'll have to give me a hundred pounds. Sounds cute, right?"
The blond boy eyes him suspiciously, but then accepted. They played for approximately 4 minutes, until Regulus won.
"Shite man, I ain't got nuthin' for ya, my bad mate." Pettigrew admits. Well, no shit.
"Thats a shame, don't stress though young man. Being over a hundred and fifty grand in debt must be really upsetting, especially with your three year old daughter?" Regulus felt horrible saying this, but it was needed, otherwise who knows what'll happen to him.
"Huh, mate? Wait please no, I'll do anything, not my daughter." Pettigrew must've obviously picked up a sense of disgust on his face (whoops) because the lad starts to panic.
Regulus took out a card from his pocket, on it, stands the Death Eater symbol, with a skull and a horrendously ugly snake crawling out of it, waiting for its next prey.
"Give this number a ring, if you would like an incredible opportunity to participate in more games like this. Goodbye Pettigrew, I wish you luck in life."
With that, Regulus walked off, feeling quite sick. He had just blackmailed a member of the homeless by using his daughter. He's afraid this will not be the first time he'll have to.
He goes around to roughly twenty other people, before he called in for the day, and went for a walk around London, until he got to the local pub. He is meeting there with one of his mates, Dorcas Meadowes. The stunning girl is his best mate at University, them both doing English Literature She's lucky, she has never been affiliated with Manhunt, and never will be. Regulus would not allow of it.
"Hey 'cas" He murmured as he sat down at the table, sighing and slumping down, resting his head on the table. He felt drained; seeing so many people in horrible conditions is going to haunt him, he decided.
"Rough day eh?" She said, chuckling slightly as she got nodded a waiter thanks as he dropped of two beers for them.
"Mhm. This'll be rough, it is horrible honestly." Regulus sighed as he pulled himself together and gulped down some of the pint, savouring the taste of the alchohol crawling down his throat, lurking.
"I'm sure you'll manage Archie, you always do. Did I tell you 'bout Marls today at Uni, god it was fucking fabulous." She started off on a tangent, him smiling and chuckling every now and then. The nickname 'Archie' came from his middle name, only Dorcas and one of his other mates, Barty, called him that.
Round ten minutes later, the waiter came back round and picked up their empty glasses, Regulus eyeing the elegant hands for a fair too long for his liking. He looked at the lad, seemingly Brazillian, with circular glasses on paired with eyes that could kill.
Focus. Not the time to be gay.
"Arch?" Dorcas repeats, dragging his mind out of its tangent, seriously, hes going to need this checked soon by his phsychiatrist why this happens.
"Huh?" He mumbles.
Dorcas nodded over to the man, who repeated again "Do you want a refill?"
Merlin, the voice alone he could have swooned, lucky Regulus isn't the easily flustered type. "Mhm sure." He decided.
The waiter walked off and Dorcas snorted, "Well he's new then."
"Your drunk." Regulus snaps a little too sharply, but toned it down with a quick but general smile.
"Ah forgot to tell you, Bart and Marls are gon' be here in 'round an hour."
He sighed, fiddling with one of his rings, "Right."
To be fair, when Marlene Mckinnon and Barty Crouch Jr got here, the four of them had a rather fabulous time, drinking for around an hour until they were messed up, well apart from Regulus, he has a high alchohol tolerence. It's a Friday, after all. All their lives are pretty messed up, so this is a sort of ritual for them. Although Regulus couldn't help his mind wandering to the misfortunate outside, shivering and worrying if they'll survive another night.
When it was time to leave, Regulus ordered a cab for all of them to go back to Barty's place, as he's the only one living seperate from his parents.
"Bartemius, someone found himself a man today." Dorcas said mischeviously, making Regulus sigh audibly as he crashed out on Barty's sofa, changed in one of his hoodies and pairs of shorts as the clothes he was originally wearing are 'far too posh'.
"No he didn't. Merlin Archie, your gon' get laid?" Barty shouted, before swinging his arm over his shoulder and making Regulus flinch. He muttered a sorry and he just nodded, it wasn't Barty's fault.
"No I'm not." He spoke simply, hoping to get his point across.
He was wrong.
Regulus got so sick of the drunk comments, that he toned them out until he ended up going to sleep on the sofa. He gets the best sleep when around his mates.
———
The next morning, He woke up rather quickly as to not disturb the others, and left Barty's appartment to then walk home. A rather peaceful morning he must say.
He got indoors and went upstairs, his parents would still be asleep, but they didn't care what he does these days anyways, unless obviously if he disgraces his family. Like his brother. Oh, Sirius Black, where are you now? It is a great mystery to him, he has never called him like he said he would 3 years ago, what a joke. Yet something within Regulus, wishes he would, just to gather that little bit of hope that all will be okay in life. Regulus hopes he will not meet his brother on his journey while handing out death sentences.
He also thinks of the waiter he saw yesterday oh, how he hopes he'll cross paths with him again another day. He reminded him of the sun, which sounds stupid as Regulus didn't even catch the lads name.
But as everyone knows, the star Regulus, heart of the lion, has always been known to miss the sun by a matter of minutes. A part of him hopes it will stay that way, and that the mysterious man will never come across Regulus and get dragged into Manhunt.