He must run. Run, run, run away. Like the wind. Hide, escape, flee. No one must see him, no one must find him. All he can do is run, and all he can think of is get as far as possible. But there's the question, Where to hide? Where to hide? There is nowhere to hide. The Dark Lord always knows, the Dark Lord doesn't miss anything. He knows it all, the Dark Lord knows. But he must not let Him. He must not let the Dark Lord know. He must stay alive. He doesn't want to die. He won't die, he tells himself, but he mustn't let anyone find him.
Up north, he decided. Up north would be a choice. But he mustn't stay there long, no. He must move to different places, he must not stay in one place for a long time. If not, they will find him, and he certainly doesn't want that. What if they catch him? He asks himself. They surely won't show him any mercy, not after what he did, oh no. No mercy.
He is shaking uncontrollably, trembling. His mind cannot think properly because of the fear. The fear that is all inside him and numbs his brain. The fear that has become one part of him, never leaving him, never. He wants to get rid of it, he wants fear to leave him but it's stuck inside him and it doesn't want to get out. The same fear he felt when he joined the Dark Lord, the same fear he felt when the Moody caught him, the same fear he had when he was locked up in Azkaban. Fear, fear, fear.
He finds a woman on his way. He stuns her, she might know who he is, she may tell someone where he is. He doesn't want it. He invades her house and stays there for a period of time, but not much. Oh no, not a very long time or the Dark Lord may find out where he is, and he doesn't want that. Fear doesn't leave him. Not now, nor never. He leaves the woman's house and looks for another place for living, still going North.
He is living off of rats and small animals. To be honest, he really never had any problem with killing animals… or anything else. He finds a shack, an abandoned one. He decides to stay there for a couple of days. He believes that the shack is a really good place to hid in, hidden in the forest. No one lives near it. Perfect place to hide, oh yes. He is proud for finding such a place. But he must not stay long or the Dark Lord will find him, and he doesn't want that.
He stays a few days, still precarious and attentive. But he was never the cautious one, never. Yet, he must be. He doesn't want to die.
He has nowhere to go, and he is tired. Tired of running, so he stays in the shack. The shack is well hidden, he reminds himself. He goes out to try and find rats. He is hungry and he wants to eat, and there's nothing else to eat either than rats. He founds one, dashing behind a tree. She is scared, he thinks, and that makes him happy. She is afraid of him, just like he is afraid to the Dark Lord. He smiles and kills it with one movement of his wand. The rat stops and he knows it's dead. He reaches for it, grabs it and turns to the direction of the shack. He will eat the rat because he is hungry. He reaches the shack and gets in. There are four figures. Four figures under black cloaks. They have found him. There is no escape. There is no point in running. They have found him. The Dark Lord always knows. Always. He speaks. He tells him he will pay. He takes his wand out and cries out and incantation.