This is my first HP fan fic I have ever posted on a site. Wow, the darkness shows. This is the end result of way to much rpg, a lot of Voldemort fics, and way to much Edgar Allen Poe, all wrapped up into one night. There, now you know my secret.
(I don't own anything. I have 3 dollars and a computer to my name, if I owned something, trust me, you would know it)
Murderous Savior
I listened to their cries. The wretched masses waited for the slaughter. No. Not waited. Begged is a much better word. Their lives mean nothing to the wizards, especially us. A few are left to fight for them, but who would dare to stand up to his holiest of holy? What man, or woman, could look in his eye without flinching? I thought that once, especially after the War ended and those children we once fought were put to their painful ends. So much for the glory part, they never were able to put up a fight. Nothing was quite as touching to a hardened heart as to hear the screams of Molly and Arthur as we killed their children. But we all lose our humanity at some point, and in my case, I was shocked out of being fully human. My father died in the same way I have killed hundreds, if not thousands. People think that being tortured to death is the worst way to die, well, they used to anyway. How wrong they were.
That battlefield where we all died, Death Eater, Order, creature and muggle alike, will never be known. No one is left to recount the heroic tale of the healer who saved many or the centaur who killed few. No one is left because he had planned it that way. He kept only those of purest blood safe while those of us with even a trace amount of muggle in our veins died on the field. There was no sense of fair, no judging principal or sentient mind to control it. He used our marks to kill us. I wasn't conscious to see how he killed everyone else. My last memory is looking up at him, searching for the being that had been the first to shelter me and my mother. I asked him what to do with the remaining troops. He looked down at me, then knelt at my side. "You won't be fortunate enough to join them. I'll give you credit, you were a better toy then your mother. But, blood holds more true than loyalty at times." He bent over me, and kissed me, his teeth cutting into my mouth and lips.
Then I was gone.