"The Shrieking Shack was never haunted…the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me…"
Hello! Yes, Nienna Calmcacil is FINALLY back! Much to the dismay of the public…I was not dead. Or hibernating. I was…in prison! Err..School! Well, here's a little background on this piece if the summary wasn't good enough for ya…This takes place in the mind of young Remus Lupin…this story was based off a little studying I did of the Prisoner of Azkaban…so if any of you have questions, I'll say some stuff at the bottom.
And my disclaimer? I officially disclaim J.K. Rowling's characters, places, ideas…and the first three quotes of this story (written in italics!) They are all hers…unfortunately…grumble grumble
Ahem! Well, my saddened fans…please enjoy this short piece…R and R!
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"The Shrieking Shack was never haunted…the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me…"
"There were no villagers to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead…"
"None of this would have happened if I hadn't been so foolish…"
Pain. Sharp, searing pain. A horrible feeling in my gut. A terribly, familiar sensation…I shrink smaller and smaller into the corner of the room, trying to shroud myself in shadows…
As if darkness could hide me from this hell.
Breathing quickens to the point of hyperventilation. Hopelessness fills me up inside like how death fills a tomb. The air hurts…A heart pounds mercilessly, the drum-beat of my doom inside my chest.
Oh, God…
Adrenaline fills rushing veins. I suddenly pounce up from the floor in a panicking fear. I stumble, searching for something to board up the windows of this decaying place, to block away the enemy's light. I find nothing. I turn to the window of my demise, my face tight and grim.
Time stops.
Frozen moonlight. Caught in an icy white glare. Covered from head to toe.
This heart beats too fast to be human.
The mind of a demon takes over while my spirit desperately wishes to hide in that corner again. Fear. Pain.
My entire body rips—my face, my nails, my arms, legs, spine…
The darkest dreamer could not imagine this agony.
Silence is pierced like a knife with my voice. Screaming, shouting, crying…
STOP!!
The agonizing metamorphosis was nearly complete…with the last bit of human instinct within me, my paw-like hand grabs the vial that I had been given, and I drink the contents. The bitter concoction couldn't stop the pain, but it held the power to keep the remaining pieces of my human conscience within me. With a final, blood-chilling howl, I finish transforming into this miserable demon.
I crawl back into shadows. All I can do is feebly whimper…and cry to myself in my head.
It's all my fault…how could I have been so stupid? How can I tell my friends? They'll all abandon me…I'm…worthless…
The demon's mind, though subdued by the potion, still fights for control…I'm losing that fight. I tremble in this beast's body. I shake with the effort to contain myself.
I need…blood! The sweet taste of…flesh…NO!!
And then I lose control.
Rage and self-loathing are my fuel. I screech as the feral beast I am. Wood splinters, windows crack and shatter, a demon screams! Torn between sorrow and this hellish desire for blood, I make my decision; It is better to hurt one's self than an innocent.
My own teeth sink into my skin. Claws rip at my face, slashing at everything else inside this prison, this decaying cell!
At last, I fall. Bleeding, suffocating, drowning, dying…I crawl back into the shadows. The moon is finally gone, but the pain remains. My body slowly shrinks back into its pitiful, weak, writing form. Tears mix with blood. Scarred hands reach for the glass daggers that have scattered around on the floor. My eyes don't care for the destruction that is laid out before me.
With the glass in my hands, I carve new wounds into my skin. My body is numb; my skin has lost the ability to fell pain...for it is all I know now.
My breath escapes into sobs. My face is hidden by my bleeding hands. Sorrow overtakes me, and I desperately with for this nightmare to end, knowing that this curse cannot be destroyed…
Kill me.
Eyes squeeze shut. A body shakes. Four words echo in my head, repeating endlessly, incessantly…These words alone hold my misery.
There is no cure.
&
Fin!
Okay, to clear some things up for ya.
The potion that Remus drank…really existed! It was given to him to keep him…sane when he transformed. If you guys are more "movie" HP fans rather than books, you'll remember how many of the teachers will say something along the lines of, "Well, blah blah blah, Snape made Remus a potion, blah blah blah."
Again, the first three quotes of the story are actual words from Remus in the book.
Insert another question you have for me here!
Okay, my lovely readers…I…love you! Ha! Please review for me. I'll greatly appreciate it…but just try to keep the heat level in control. As in…no barbecuing the poor story! As in…NO FLAMES, PLEASE!! I like critics, not flamers. Thanks!