The click-clack and scuffle-shift noise pollution of the formal shoes of the Ministry men and women had arrived promptly, flowing steadily throughout the halls of the humming building. While proper employees barreled towards the large double doors, which glimmered with the promise of escape from the endless drag of the work week, he leaned heavily upon his forearms against the steel rail before him, remaining in place.
From where he stood casually, with one hand ruffling through the hair upon his head, and the other drumming a voiceless beat against the air before him with the tip of his wand, the only obstacle that remained between him and the atrium that stretched outward like the country plains beneath him, was a windowpane. A thin sheet of glass which Nemo hadn’t paid much mind to as he’d burned through it a hole that was five inches in diameter, so to clear a path before himself.
It acted quite like a sighting rest, while his eager-to-rest coworkers danced about the atrium like frantic insects, providing him with an endless number of unsuspecting, choice preys.
A joyous smile fluttered across the full lips of the deviant, who now held firmly in his crumpled fist the very wand that would decide the fates of the men and women whom he served with every day. As Nemo relished in his contented amusement, he snapped his wrist in a downward motion with expertise, and released from the tip of his weapon the Color-Change Charm.
The charm crackled throughout the air like a building bolt of lightning, and dug its unseen point into the scalp of she whom Nemo had aimed for. There was a moment of silent bliss, during which Nemo spied down upon the mucus-green tainted strands of hair that had sprouted from the skull of the ever-solemn woman. A brief minute which Nemo used to duck swiftly beneath the windowsill. He curled inward, folding in on himself; bending and contorting in the manner of origami paper, until his backside was sat firmly on the unforgiving, polished floor. Hidden from view.
A tormented scream shortly followed, and the buzz of the worker bees rapidly became the hiss of snakes as the evildoer was sought out. But their attempts were to no avail, for Nemo had already moved on to his next target.
Another howl. That of a man - a man with flesh made blue.
What a day. What perfection.