A/N: Gosh, I was really lazy on this, but whatever. The contest is finally over! Hurray! So, just enjoy or something.
Regulus watched in horror as the muggle, whom just seconds before had been begging for mercy, fell down face first on the cement floor with a sickening thud. He had just killed a person, and a defenseless one to top it off.
Is this really what I signed up for?
"Well done, Regulus. Now I have been given proof of your loyalty to me. Do not fail my expectations." The cold and empty voice of the Dark Lord snaked its way around Regulus, almost taking his breath away.
"Of course, my lord," Regulus choked, eager to be excused. But why?
Wasn't this what he always wanted? To be praised and bring honor to the Black family after his brother's selfish actions?
"Anything you wish to tell me?" his lord asked from his seat at the front of the room where the Death Eaters' headquarters was at the moment.
"No, my lord. Nothing at all."
"Good. You may leave."
Regulus sighed in relief silently, then made his way out the door and into the cool night air. He hadn't realized he hadn't been breathing up to that point, but he was glad that he was free from the Dark Lord's chilling atmosphere, even if he wasn't sure why.
Regulus' heart pounded hard as he and two other Death Eaters ran away from the wizard house they had just raided. In his arms were valuable pocessions, and the death of the entire family inhabiting the little cottage kept replaying in his mind.
It disgusted him how it had been his own hands at work. He was responsible for the bodies that littered the dining room. Bodies that in a matter of time would be nothing but ashes beneath burnt wood.
And for what? They had all been purebloods after all. It was only because they had been friendly with their muggle neighbors and because it was simply convenient. The Death Eaters were running out of supplies.
Regulus lagged behind his comrades since his load was heavier, both physically and mentally, but he could still hear their high-pitched laughter.
Why can't I laugh as well?
"A horcrux? Why, my lord, you really have outdone yourself!"
"Quiet, Bellatrix. No one must know besides you. I cannot guarantee the loyalty of all of my Death Eaters, as hard as I wish it to be so. I suggest you keep this to yourself."
"I will, don't fret. I will regard this information as one of your many gifts, my lord."
Regulus stopped listening after that. He was positive that he wasn't meant to hear that information.
Regulus reflected on his options while laying on his bed. He could carry on with life as usual, or not. It was as simple as that.
He had figured that when the Dark Lord died, it would all be over. The remaining Death Eaters would be sent to Azkaban and that would be the end of it. But as it stood, the Dark Lord would never die, and Regulus would be doomed to eternal servitude if he wanted to keep breathing.
Normally, he would have just ignored the new information and keep his habits as they were, but for some reason, it wasn't so easy this time.
Have I really become a muggle-loving freak?
As easy as it was to blame his hesitation on that possibility, Regulus knew that wasn't the case. He still despised the non-magic community, but for what other reason was he being so worried?
"Kreacher!" he called, desperate for help, even if it was from a house elf.
The dirty house elf appeared before him with a pop, and after a quick bow to his master asked, "What is it you wish, Master Regulus?"
"Do you know the feeling of not wanting to do something anymore? To have a different opinion all of a sudden?"
"I'm not sure, but I would call that 'disagreeing', Master," Kreacher responded, waiting for some sort of reply.
"Of course, how silly of me," Regulus laughed a little. How could he have not noticed before. He was at a disagreement with his lord. He didn't like the way he was rising to power, with so much bloodshed and in such an inhumane way. He was even planning to make himself immortal!
"Anything else, Master Regulus?" Kreacher pried after a few moments of silence.
"Not for the moment. You may attend to your other duties."
"Of course." With a final small bow, Kreacher disappeared and Regulus was left to his own thoughts once again.
It was finally time. All of his preparations were for this very moment, and there was no turning back.
"Kreacher, remember my orders."
"Yes, Master."
Regulus got out of the boat, his house elf close behind. As he got closer to the center of the island, he considered going back and aborting the mission. But he couldn't do that, could he?
Doing so would mean to either be killed or feel guilty for the rest of his life. It felt sort of nice to do something worthwhile for a change. Something good.
Once he was there, Regulus looked down into the basin that was standing there. The locket was there, the horcrux. He was going to retrieve it, destroy it and go into hiding afterwards. Maybe he could even get in touch with Sirius.
However, when he reached down, he couldn't get a hold of it. He tried again and again, but to no avail.
"Maybe it's a charm...?" Kreacher attempted.
Regulus shook his head. "Kreacher, go fetch me a glass."
The house elf nodded, left, and returned in less than a minute, a glass with the Black family crest on its side in his hand. "Here, Master."
Regulus took the glass and dipped it into the water. He prayed that it was only water, although he doubted it, and drank the whole thing. At first, he felt a little dizzy, then he saw a couple blurred images before they dissolved.
He then looked down at the basin, and saw that the water level had decreased. So that was how it was going to be.
"Kreacher, if anything happens to me, take this replica and replace it with the real locket. Go back and destroy it at all costs."
"But nothing will happen to Master Regulus, right?" Kreacher stuttered, his tone worried.
Regulus' expression remained serious. "I can't say for sure, Kreacher. I just know that I must drink all of the water, and you musn't listen to anything I say until then, understood. Force the water down my throat if you must. Promise me that, Kreacher."
Kreacher nodded and occupied himself with refilling the glass. Once it was full, Regulus drank from it again. More images swept past him, although clearer that time, and the effects even worse.
"Master?"
"Another glass, Kreacher."
The next time, the visions were almost visible, only blurred at the edges. It was the night he tortured that woman for information in London, and then it was gone.
He drank two more glasses before he wasn't able to stand any longer, and another one after that before he began screaming. He saw all of the things he regretted doing: killing, torturing, stealing. Everything he had thought was all he could do. It had been the only way to make the Black family proud.
I guess my brother was right after all.
"Water..." he choked, desperate for anything that would hopefully relieve him of his pain.
"Master Regulus must drink this," Kreacher stumbled, as he offered another glass to Regulus.
"Alright..."
"Regulus, you're stupid for wanting to stay with this horrid family! Do what you want, but I'm not sticking around anymore!"
"It doesn't matter! I couldn't stop you from being a disgrace even if I wanted to. I swear, you must be a mudblood, the way you're acting!"
It was the fight he had with Sirius the night he left for his friend Potter's house. Now, he wished he could take all of those awful words back.
When I get out of here, I can.
But after three more glasses, he knew he was going to die. He couldn't stand the things that he saw, and Kreacher kept insisting that he must keep drinking.
"Just one last glass, Master Regulus. This one is the last one, I promise," he said.
"No, no! Kreacher, you really must hate me!"
Kreacher frowned and raised the glass up to Regulus' mouth, where he tipped it back. Memory after memory flashed by, driving him crazy.
"Stop it!" he cried. "Make it stop!"
Regulus crawled to the edge of the island and dipped his hand in it. It felt so nice. Why couldn't he just take a swim?
"You musn't do that, Master Regulus!" Kreacher exclaimed, but it was too late.
Green, slimy hands dragged him deep into the lake, refusing to let him breathe. It was then that Regulus was able to take some control of himself.
There was no use in struggling now; the inferi where strong and at some point, he had lost his wand. He didn't worry though, Kreacher would take care of everything else.
It was satisfying to know you died for a good cause.