I own nothing, just maybe the general arrangement of letters as they fall out of my head. JKR be boss.

Random Fandom Fanfiction Writers' Club Fest

AmberStiff prompted:

-HarryPotter prompt: Any character you like. "The air was icy as I looked down at the body at my feet. Did this mean my soul was broken,even though I knew I killed out of necessity?" A Horcrux created by accident would be a bonus.

This is my answer, with a few tweak-adjustments to fit my concept :) Enjoy!

Demented

The air was icy as I looked down at the body on the floor before me. My breath mingled with ice crystals in the air and hoarfrost ate across my victim's face. It was something I began to see as normal, but whatever was left of my mind paused and asked itself: did this mean my soul was irreparably broken, even though I knew I had killed—again—out of necessity?

Well, perhaps necessity was too strong a word, but it felt...necessary. It had become so from the things I'd done before. There had probably been a time in my life that I would have recoiled in disgust at the sight of some person dying before me, but that was no more.

I'd lost that sensibility once I'd realized how empowering that last brilliant flash of light in someone's eyes was, as their soul fluttered away on the wind. It had become something addictive, killing for killing's sake, seeing just how many times I could split my own soul. I'd counted to seven before I'd even discovered what a horcrux was and was lost on the high of absorbing them back with each more-reckless deed. I'd used eleven before the power generated from such intent was so nominal as to have no more effect. By that time, I had started killing for the clandestine, ever-growing, demanding need that had begun to surface.

Now, I could no longer concern myself with the consequences of such heinously damaged morality. It...I...no longer had the value of choice. I no longer had the option of not killing.

I looked down at my hand on a whim. It had been a nice, supple hand...once upon a time. Now, it was dry and papery. The stretched crepe of skin was nearly translucent and strung loosely between the tendons of my hand like a mass of cobwebs. My nails were yellowed, cracked and thick. Diseased.

I found I did not care, as I once would have.

I once would have cared that my hair had faded to thin silver wisps instead of the thick black curly locks I'd once adored.

I once would have cared that my formerly brilliantly sparkling brown eyes had yellowed and sunken until they resembled black holes gouged out of my skull.

I once would have cared that I couldn't fit any of the clothes I'd worn at my thinnest, for the fear of them hanging off my body grotesquely.

The fact was, I didn't care. My hair was three silver wisps atop my gray-green pate, and that was now covered by the shroud of my station. As for my eyes, they'd barely moved as I'd not needed sight to see for several months, now. My body had no need for clothing as it had fallen away, unnecessary for my survival any longer. I only had my upper torso left, and as I could fly, what need had I for feet?

The cobwebs of my skin filled slowly with the ingestion of life-force that I'd taken...out of necessity.

After all, no one bothered to actually train a newly born dementor...did they?

The feeding was not enough, here. It was never enough for this constant hunger for a soul to replace my own, but this was where I found my...sustenance...and it called to me.

No longer concerned with this line of thought, I drifted down the cell block in search for another victim, leaving vines of ice in my wake.

The screams were delicious.

End

Fun fact: the character was originally going to be Eileen Snape, but I felt the anonymity was better for such a short format. Let me know what you think! xoxo Dena

PS: still writing on Lioness, Lacarnum and Mustn't Touch. I've promised not to abandon them!