Bloody Rain

Author: Master

Rating: M

Warnigs: slash, rape, self-mulitation, angst (and lots of it), death and very very dark themes. Reader discretion is advised. :D

AN: Inspired by Cinnamon's Windfallen, who is the infamous writer of Beautiful World. The fic was absolutely insane and dark and angsty and tragic… and it was awesome. :D It might not be everyone's cup of tea in the middle of it all, but it's defiantly a good read and you can't leave it till the very last word. I have tried to write something as heavy as this in the past but I never got around to finish them. So, here I am trying for another attempt.

Chapter I: Running

He was running, never stopping to look back, never pausing to breathe. The rain was pouring up above the forest canopy as his boots made sticky sloshy sounds with each step and the soles of his shoes were being sucked into the deep mud. Droplets obscured his vision as the rain poured above him, his glasses were fogging up with each pant he took which made him unsure which direction he was running to. It did not matter. His instincts were just telling him to get out of there. He couldn't stomach it.

They're dead.

His mind said, screaming the horrible truth in his head like sick steady mantra. He screwed his eyes shut to prevent the tears from coming, but it was no use… They poured like mad. Or perhaps it might've been the rain that wet his cheeks. He didn't know, and he didn't care.

They're dead.

I… I was too late.

He had been too late. Much too late to do anything and now he was running, running like a coward with no idea where to go. He knew he was being hunted like an animal in the game of sport with his head as the trophy. He was going to be killed, murdered like he had murdered the others… disgraced, mutilated and butchered.

His clothes were stained and soaked with blood most of which weren't even his. And the rain did it's best to wash away the mess. His whole body was already aching from exhaustion, lack of sleep, adrenaline and pain. But his instincts were telling his body to move and try his hardest to ignore the scream of his muscles from his calves and thighs.

Flashes of horrible images bombarded his head and it was making him sick. He could still smell the wet slowly rotting flesh and terrible horror-struck faces of the mangled bodies… So much carnage. It took so much self control not to retch.

He sprinted faster, with paranoia that he was being followed, gripping tightly at the wand in his hand until his nails dug into the flesh of his palm. Fear was overtaking his whole body, making him forget all rational thoughts and even the pain he was in.

His teeth were chattering and his jaw clenched on it so hard it hurt. The scar on his forehead burned that made his head feel like it's being split apart. He screamed, but what came out from his own mouth was cold horrible laughter.

Voldermort was delighted, he was laughing so menacingly that the ones who were standing close to him drew back. His eyes raked over the dead naked mangled body of the red-headed girl hanging by invisible ropes in front of his 'throne'. Next to her was a boy who had the same ginger hair but was almost unrecognizable with all the blood covering him and next to him was a female body with bushy brown hair that covered her face.

"It ends tonight." He said menacingly. He turned his attention to his followers and said, "Go after him. He can't have ran too far. Bring him to me. Bring him to me alive. That boy is mine."

With that, wisps of black fluttery cloaks billowed on their wake and went on a frantic search for the boy in the forrest. He turned back his attention to the bodies in front of him ad smiled in triumph.

"You're mine now… Harry Potter. Now that you have nothing."

He was able to open his eyes again and found himself clutching a hand to a trunk of a thick tree. He shook his head to drive away the pain of his scar and the notion of nausea as he was yet again given a clear image of the dead bodies. He took a stuffing long drawn breath and gritted his teeth, ordering his body to move once again. He could not afford to stop now that he knows that they were after him.

With sheer will and force his legs were moving again, running like he had been running this whole time. He was cold and wet and hungry and so sleepy and exhausted but any of those didn't give him any excuse. He could already see hallucinations in front of his eyes. The rain was getting heavier and heavier as he ran deeper into the unknown forest. In the back of his mind he knew he was lost and a hundred or so cloaked men and a murderous evil maniac were after him… He had nothing anymore. No one. They were ALL dead… his parents, his family… and the persons that he loved. Dead.

So why wasn't he stopping? Why wasn't he listening to his brain that it was already over? Why wasn't he letting his body to just drop so that exhaustion would consume him…? It was because he knew that it was a stupid thing to do. Because there was a tiny voice in his head saying that he couldn't let it end this way, he shouldn't give up just yet.

With a sudden slamming force, another body collided with his, throwing him off balance and landed with a slushy thud on the muddy earth. He cursed and drew all that was left of his strength to stand up.

"Expelliarmus!" He shouted using Hermione's wand to disarm them, not even seeing the person whom he had collided with because his glasses were covered with a sheet of mud. "Sectumsempra!" he shouted again and the person screamed in pain. Blood splattered on the ground as the spell sliced across the person's stomach. Amazingly enough, the person was still able to stand, clutching the middle of his torso where the spell had cut through him. Harry tried to wipe the mud off his glasses in order to focus on the now wandless attacker in front of him.

Blond tresses stuck elegantly in curves against a pale forehead, silvery blue-grey eyes wincing at the pain and his teeth biting a lower lip, the person was doing everything he can not to loose his balance and keel over.

"M-Malfoy…?" He said breathlessly in bewilderment. The blonde looked like he was in so much pain. He gasped and managed to lean and hold onto Harry's shoulders, barely keeping them both steady.

"Potter… you idiot…" the blond gasped.

Suddenly they could hear voices in the distance, the slushy steps tracks grew louder with each rustle of branch, bush and leaves. Shit, they'll be caught! He grits his teeth and froze where he stood as he supported Malfoy's weight on his shoulders.

"Quick… Put your cloak on." Malfoy managed to whisper.

"What?"

"I said, put… your bloody… Invisibility Cloak."

Without anymore questions Harry hastily pulled the cloak from inside his robes and draped it over the both of them. The voices grew louder and the running footsteps could be heard.

"Have you spotted him?" A black cloaked masked figure came into the clearing. Harry's muscles tensed with anticipation seeing the Death Eater was mere inches away from the both of them.

"No, not a sign." Another one came. "you?"

"I swore I heard something from this direction."

They were both hyper ventilating under the cloth that if any of the two Death Eaters kept quite they would hear their breaths through the pitter patter of rain. He covered his mouth and did the same to Malfoy who almost protested but quickly realized he should keep quiet.

"He couldn't have gone too far." said the cloaked figure. "Let's find the others, maybe they've found him."

The two cloaked figures nodded and went off. He managed to take a sigh of relief. When they were both out of ear shot, his limbs finally collapsed on themselves, holding onto Malfoy to steady himself but his numb body was already giving out from exhaustion.

"Mal-Malfoy… I think…" he managed to say but he wasn't able to finish for everything suddenly went blurry to black.

TO BE CONTONUED...

AN: Sorry for the dark themes… I'm feeling a bit depressed right now.