To all my reviewers of The Strange who were sad to see the story end: here is the sequel. My favorite gruesome twosome is back, Flay Lestrange and Draco Malfoy are at it again. Need a recap or just haven't read part one? Read on. Bellatrix's daughter, Flay Lestrange, is attending Hogwarts in her 7th year under the surname Black to keep her true identity unknown. She and Draco have been sent on a mission by the Dark Lord to annihilate every last wizard residing in Hogwarts. The story takes place during the first term and culminates right before winter break when I recreate the Battle of Hogwarts. The rest of the term is basically character development and the way their relationship evolves. I strongly suggest reading The Strange first because Draco and Flay don't have a stereotypical relationship; it cannot be generalized so you wouldn't understand it without having read about it previously. But that's just my opinion, after all, I am the author..
The Silent
You fear for your life because you fear for your soul
When only the pure of heart die peacefully and make it to Paradise…
Poison vials like hard candy, feel sweet death roll over your tongue and chip your front teeth because the afterlife waits for no one these days. No way to bargain with the Devil now: there's a lack of evil in Hell.
Economic crashes raise depressions, rising hackles of modern society when sinners are revealed from desperate corners and bleed to survive in dark shadows.
Crayons cover paper but their paths aren't smooth: holes with skips and jumps like small marks of truth revealing lifeless moments in a broken home. Loneliness envelops all hope as black seconds tick to death. She'd like an appointment for next Tuesday.
High heels and stiletto boots show a weakness behind black leather jackets, corruption involving more than one dead heart but no one seems to pay them mind.
My two cents alone won't be enough to cure the world of sickness. We suffer from a constant urge to kill each other, but more often than not it goes overlooked. Brutal murders in your kitchen: it becomes a game. Would you like to be the queen of spades? Thirteen points to whoever scores you first.
Fondle lost deceptive hopes of truth six feet under the ground, but no one knows the truth because no one lives to tell the tale of three-headed guardian beasts and riverboats made to float over dead man's seas.
I think it would be a virtue to see past manipulation and gaze into motivation. But when mass murders are most common across waters we forget to turn to schools where students terminally ill with maniacal depression lose sight of the value of living but are afraid to die alone.
Innocence depreciates by the day: it's value plagued by lines of white. Sold and exchanged like an American government, malice oozes from its pores. If white is nothing more than a lack of color, color me colorless and I'll be the ghost of you forever.
Not exactly a first chapter so much as a prologue poem, but I wrote it mad long ago and I thought it would give an idea of the general undertone I want the story to have. R&R(:THANKS
