Story: Hell hath no fury…
Author: Jessica Idres
Rating PG-13
Summary: A woman, scorned and abused, takes the ultimate revenge for past wrongs.
It would be funny, really, if it wasn't so deadly. Here he had become the greatest wizard, by both fear and murder, yet he had forgotten the most important of rules. Maybe he had because it seemed childish to a man who kills with a mere twist of his wand. But he should have known better. It was the most important rule that any young boy could learn. That's why it was sung into the tales told to them in youth.
She had waited in the shadows of a deserted road. He had not expected her there-he had not expected anyone there. The 'good' were far too noble to ambush him. Besides, very few knew what he even looked like. But she did, and could seek him out from the hundreds of others that wore green and black with faceless masks. She had ties to him like no other did. So she had waited.
The blow that knocked the wand out of his hand was faster than he could even aim. The next used the resistance of his own hand to land a powerful kick to the jaw, breaking it and sending him crashing to the ground. She jumped on top of him, heels cracking arm bones with her force. She sat down on top of him, ignoring his screech of pain, knees holding down his broken arms ignoring the feeble attempts to knee her off.
Black gloved hand grabbed his throat, squeezing with a strength he'd never suspect. Trachea collapsing, breath squeezed away, he looked up at her and saw the dark eyes look at him dispassionately. He silently pleaded with his angel of death. He even tried to say her name as the blackness he had cultured in others swallowed him whole.
A minute later, he was dead. She stood up, and walked away, satisfied justice had been done. By taking his life away like this, she had taking away any dignity he could have had. A wizard's life, taking not by wand or magical means, but taken like a common muggle. An unforgivable curse would have left his body untouched, his face still the mask of horror he had worked so long to create. No, now he lay in an alley, body broken, his face mauled with fear.
Hell hath no fury like woman scorned.
Author: Jessica Idres
Rating PG-13
Summary: A woman, scorned and abused, takes the ultimate revenge for past wrongs.
It would be funny, really, if it wasn't so deadly. Here he had become the greatest wizard, by both fear and murder, yet he had forgotten the most important of rules. Maybe he had because it seemed childish to a man who kills with a mere twist of his wand. But he should have known better. It was the most important rule that any young boy could learn. That's why it was sung into the tales told to them in youth.
She had waited in the shadows of a deserted road. He had not expected her there-he had not expected anyone there. The 'good' were far too noble to ambush him. Besides, very few knew what he even looked like. But she did, and could seek him out from the hundreds of others that wore green and black with faceless masks. She had ties to him like no other did. So she had waited.
The blow that knocked the wand out of his hand was faster than he could even aim. The next used the resistance of his own hand to land a powerful kick to the jaw, breaking it and sending him crashing to the ground. She jumped on top of him, heels cracking arm bones with her force. She sat down on top of him, ignoring his screech of pain, knees holding down his broken arms ignoring the feeble attempts to knee her off.
Black gloved hand grabbed his throat, squeezing with a strength he'd never suspect. Trachea collapsing, breath squeezed away, he looked up at her and saw the dark eyes look at him dispassionately. He silently pleaded with his angel of death. He even tried to say her name as the blackness he had cultured in others swallowed him whole.
A minute later, he was dead. She stood up, and walked away, satisfied justice had been done. By taking his life away like this, she had taking away any dignity he could have had. A wizard's life, taking not by wand or magical means, but taken like a common muggle. An unforgivable curse would have left his body untouched, his face still the mask of horror he had worked so long to create. No, now he lay in an alley, body broken, his face mauled with fear.
Hell hath no fury like woman scorned.