A Fitting End | By : bibliobibuli17 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1282 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't have any claim, monetary or otherwise, on anything HP related. Actually...I don't really have a claim on anything, period, except my dudefriend. That's sad. |
Disclaimer: Not mine. -pout-
This is a based on a bunny I found by Cat Feral – both the title and the ending are hers. I unfortunately cannot lay claim to the genius of it all. –sigh-
This fic has some violence, mainly in this chapter, and has 3 bad words, all in the last chapter. It's about 4800 words, so not too long. I hope you enjoy! Oh - and thanks, shabd and Narya, for looking it over! (And I hope this meets your expectations, Feral!)
She kneeled transfixed, watching the muggle involuntarily writhe in agony. It was beautiful, the play of muscles spasmodically clenching all over his body and tendons standing out in his neck. His face was flushed, and blood dripped from his mouth where he’d bitten off his tongue early on. It lay roughly a meter away now; in his oblivion he was continuously moving. Each scream was accompanied by a spatter of blood, emerging with the exhalation of breath that came with his vocalized pain.
His voice was long ragged, and nearly gone by now. His hands clenching with the tightening of muscles, nails digging into his palms, resulting in those being slick with blood as well. Judging by the growing puddle of the substance around him, he would expire soon. Biting off his own tongue had ensured his fairly quick death, as none of those present felt it worth the time or energy to heal him. There were plenty more muggles for the Death Eaters to entertain themselves with.
Bellatrix felt her mouth water at the pain displayed before her. The Cruciatus Curse was her favorite, mainly because of the powerful beauty the pain inflicted caused. She loved pain. It was sharp, bold, and intense. It was eternal, and there were so many ways to entice it from the body, mind, and spirit. The power she held in the position of tormentor was pure ecstasy; seductively, erotically addicting. There was only one thing to lament at the moment…it was not her wand casting the curse. She was not in the revered position she equated to being one of the gods.
However, it was her Lord that was, and that was the next best thing.
So Bellatrix observed through fanatic eyes full of bloodlust, salivating, as the muggle on the floor went rigid for a scant moment before all muscles relaxed. A sure sign the filthy thing had run out of its entertainment value. Pity, really. This one had been particularly good.
Voldemort gave a low, indistinct sound of amusement before casting Incendio on the carcass. Bellatrix – insane, hardcore sadist till the end – tilted her head back and closed her manic eyes as she savored the delicious scent of burning flesh. Inferior as the flesh itself was, the smell that permeated the chamber was of triumph and power. It foretold of conquest, and was intoxicating.
Vaguely she heard her Lord’s sibilant, liquid voice and brought herself back to the present.
“My dear Death Eaters…as pleasurable as it has been to hold this revel, it has not been for naught.”
There was brief shifting as the Death Eaters looked at each other, but otherwise there was complete silence in the chamber.
“I’ve a mission to be put into action this evening,” the Dark Lord continued, and Bellatrix felt the tingle of excitement low in her stomach. The intensity of the atmosphere seemed to increase as her colleagues’ anticipation rose.
Noticing the unblinking eyes in the masks, and sensing the collective holding-of-breath all in the chamber were engaging in, her Lord chuckled. In her place kneeling to the right of his seat, Bellatrix shivered at the seductive menace in it.
Taking note of it, the Dark Lord expressed amusement once again before reaching over to caress the long waves of her dark hair. Looking at her bowed head, her Lord stated his approval.
“Dear Bellatrix, always so eager. I did not allow you to engage in your favorite activities this evening, and I had a purpose in such. Watching, unable to indulge in your own savage yearnings, has pulled you taut and readied you for the battle that is to come. You will be all the more feral and vicious, my loyal pet. When you and your peers have completed this successfully, I will allow you several of your own muggles to do as you wish with.”
Eyes gleaming with the possibilities available to her with such a gift, Bellatrix moved to kiss the hem of her Lord’s robes. He was the only one she bowed to, and she was completely devoted to him; he ruled her, and she would give him anything he wished. Bellatrix purred in anticipation as she crawled back to her designated spot, where her Lord’s hand returned to its petting of her hair. Leaning into it, she listened as he once again addressed all present.
“We have already claimed the Ministry - we shall now take St. Mungo’s. To lose another battle so soon after the loss of the Ministry, even though the prize may seem so unimportant, will result in our opposition losing all hope. This is the last major alteration. They lose, and they will lose their fighting spirit…
…leaving them at our mercy.”
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