I wanted to write about something new and no ones ever touch upon this, probably because its an awful subject but hey! Enjoy!
Water. He needed water. Regulus gagged at the dryness of his mouth as he crawled from his knees onto his stomach across the wet jagged rocks, wincing as his still hurting body was scraped as he slowly pushed himself along. Finally, he reached the shore and relaxed grunting as he did so, his body still violently twitching from the potion. He panted, leaning his head against the shore of the darkened lake. The sound of the water lapping around him as he caught his breath was almost calming. The quiet of the cave, just the slight sloshing of the water beside him and the distant sound of water dripping from the cave roof. Were they stalactite or stalagmite? This was what he chose to think of in his final moments? Kreacher had told him of what was in these waters. He couldn't leave, not now he'd sent Kreacher away, and he was so thirsty. He strained to lean up on his arms, his body still reeling from the potion. He stayed still, listening to the quiet, it was eerily beautiful to hear nothing. He breathed in and out slowly, watching his own breath, unable to move, still listening intently to the water splashing. Coward. He plunged his hand into the water, but before the liquid could reach his mouth, a gnarled and withered hand reached out of the water with lightning speed and grabbed his wrist. In shock he spilt the water, it splashing onto his face.
"No!" He didn't know if he was crying out because of his thirst or because of the army of partially fleshed bones and broken wrists dragging him down into the water. It was cold, freezing, the icy liquid enveloping him, soaking through his clothes. He instantly began shivering wildly, his heart quivering against his pimpled skin as he gasped, almost crying in fear. So much for going out with dignity. He was being pulled down fast but even though this had always been the plan, a childish fear inside him refused to be drowned. However, his feet were refusing to kick back against the dead puppets, slowed by the freezing water and his baggy cloak. Only his mouth remained out of the water, his bulging eyes staring at the black cave roof, water dripping down all around him from his frightened kicks. He took his final breath before being pushed beneath the water. As soon as he was under the water he immediately wanted to breathe again. He felt a burning in his throat, his lungs begging for air. That was his last breath. It had tasted fresh and cold, and he wanted more. Yet he'd allowed himself to be pushed further away from the surface, his hands so numb from the cold that he could no longer feel the hands of the dead. He looked to his left, despite the lack of light he could still see the outline of the creature, its clothes worn away, only the slight particles of flesh remained clinging to its skull. But as it swam holding tightly onto Regulus, a piece of the rotten flesh disappeared to flow in the darkness above. The sight made Regulus shiver in disgust, his clouded brain forgetting where he was, and he inhaled sharply. It burned, more intensely than before, he started coughing which in turn made it worse, the water invading his lungs bursting into liquid flames on impact. His nose stung as he tried to calm himself and turned his eyes to the dark void above. He pretending there were stars in that great abyss as tried in vain to keep his eyes open. What was the point though? This was it anyway. He wondered what Sirius would do when he found out? But that was it wasn't it? None of them would know. He opened his eyes again, his plummeting heart more distracting than his burning lungs. His mother would think he was a traitor like Sirius and Sirius would be none the wiser. But he'd know. Voldemort may make him into one of these but Regulus knew he'd done something right. Once more he strained to keep his eyes open looking above. He was sure there were stars above him now. They were beautiful.
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