Yo guys, first of thanks for giving this story a chance. I've recently gotten addicted to Tokyo ghoul and my brain spawned this idea, still not completely sure where I'll go with it but I can improvise. If you like it please drop a review. Still haven't decided who to pair harry with so if you have any ideas please tell me, I'm kinda leaning towards a juuzou suzuya x harry pairing which would be interesting but I think I could make it work. But that depends on how the story goes as there might not even be a pairing. If there is pairings it will take a back seat for the plot.

I don't own Tokyo ghoul or Harry Potter.

Warning: will likely be gruesome and full of blood so it's not for the faint of heart (it is a Tokyo ghoul crossover after all.) and if there is pairings they will likely include slash so if you don't like that you can leave.

His whole world changed in the course of one night.

He couldn't remember it well, the memories were blurred, as if he was looking at them through a fogged up window. And that simple fact was probably what allowed him to keep the majority of his sanity. He had no doubt that if he could remember those memories as clearly ashe remembered other things he'd be locked up in an asylum somewhere.

There were a few things he remembered though. The sky had been beautifully clear, allowing him to see the bright stars that shone there. It had been cold, emphasised by the fact that he had been stripped of his clothes. The ropes that had bound him had burnt, as if someone had poured acid on them before tying him up.

And there had been blood, lots of it. It had spilled from his wounds, filling the runes he lay on. He had never realised how much blood a body could hold until it had been flowing out and pooling around him. And still the strangers had continued to cut him, chanting things he hadn't been able to understand. They had cut runes into his skin, some deep others shallow, but somehow he'd known all of them would scar.

He couldn't remember what the strangers had looked like, just that they had worn robes. And he had been there. The snake of a murderer, the person Harry had been prophesied to kill. As soon as he had seen Voldemort's face he had known that he was behind it. He had also known there'd be no escape for him. They had snapped his wand when they'd attacked Pivet drive. And without it he had been a weak, malnourished teenager. Sure he was fast and quick at dodging but those qualities couldn't help him when he was tied up. Harry had no idea how they'd gotten through the wards as Dumbledore had said the wards had been indestructible, unless Dumbledore had been lying. That idea had seemed more and more likely the longer he had been trapped.

They had been in the middle of a forest, one that was darker and more intimidating than the forbidden forest had been. It couldn't have that hard for the order to find him right, it hadn't been long till he gave up hope that the order was coming. And then Voldemort had approached him, a sick and twisted grin on his face and laid a hand on Harry's cheek.

And harry had felt his mind ripped from his body.

This was where his memory started to fail him. He remembered flashes, of different scenes and places, of different people and times. In one of these 'recalls' he'd been standing in the runes of a city. The broken buildings had loomed over him like husks and remains of a better time. It had been deathly silent and no life could be seen. And when he'd looked up the sky had been a bright bloody red. It was like a twisted apocalyptic future you only saw in moves. Except for the fact that it had been real.

He wasn't sure how long he had spent in that recall. It felt like months, he'd wondered alone, looking for signs of life only to find none. At one point he'd gotten so desperate he'd tried jumping from the ruins of a skyscraper only for him to hit the ground and live. It had been painful as his body slowly pulled itself together again, painful as bones snapped back into place, painful as the blood was forced back into his veins and painful as his lungs re knitted themselves. He hadn't tried to kill himself again after that. He knew in reality he'd likely only been there for a moment but when he was in a recall he had no sense of time

In the next recall he'd been a monster, unable to control his body or actions. He'd killed people, had smirked as they'd begged and had taken pleasure in causing them as much pain as possible before there untimely end. It had caused him to realise what a cruel world it really was. He wasn't in that recall as long as the other one and it was the last one he could remember properly. All he knew was that the recalls got darker and more twisted as more time went by. If he strained hard enough he could remember screams, begging, blood, pain and a deep sense of loneliness. Some were over in an instant others dragged on like his first recall had.

He'd been in Voldemort's clutches for what he estimated was around 3 months or so now. He had long ago given up on the idea of the order coming to save him.

He was no longer in the forest but rather a dank cell that reeked of dried blood and human waste. He went on trips into the recall almost daily now and he knew Voldemort's took a sick pleasure in seeing him so weak and defeated.

He'd always been slim but you could now clearly count every bump in his spine. His arms and legs were like twigs and his ribs stuck out painfully. His hair had grown longer and now reached the small of his back. It was greasy and mattered with blood. His wounds from when the death eaters came to have some 'fun' with him were infected and oozed pus. He'd been right when he had thought the runes would scar and they covered his body. His glasses had been lost long ago but for some reason his sight was pretty clear, he figured it had to do with the runes.

Since the night the runes had been carved into him Voldemort's no longer needed to go through such a long procedure to make him fall into a recall. He'd be dragged onto the roof and his arms and legs would be bound. He'd long ago stopped fighting, knowing he stood no chance against anybody in his condition. He didn't even have the energy to walk on his own so the death eaters had to drag him.

But tonight was different, he could feel it through his connection with Voldemort. The man was pleased, and when he was pleased harry knew it wasn't good for him. He was once again dragged out onto the roof of Voldemort's fortress and laid before him. Harry took a moment to gaze at the stars, it sounded crazy but the stars had been what saved him, reminded him there was more to the world than pain and death. They reminded him that the world had a hidden beauty to it. The stars were the things that gave him hope.

Voldemort began to chant and harry felt the runes that covered him charge up as they began to glow. It wasn't a pleasant experience for him, at the start the runes charging up had been excruciating. But now that he was used to them they felt more like a slightly painful case of pins and needles.

Most of the times Voldemort's sent him into recall he didn't say anything, just stood there as he watched Potter's glazed and blank eyes gaze at the stars above. Though Potter's soul travelled to different worlds his body stayed where it was, laying there like an empty husk. Which was why Voldemort's had to be careful because if the boy was away from his body to long his soul would fade. Most people wouldn't understand the pride and happiness when he saw the supposed 'saviour' lying limply at his feet like a puppet with its strings cut. There were also few out there who understood how much potential lay inside the boy. When the boy had been healthy it had rolled of him in waves, filling any room he entered. It was as if the boy himself had been unaware of how much power lay inside his slim body. But now that power was muted, as he was using all his energy to keep himself alive.

There was a simple reason why he didn't kill the boy. 'neither can live while the other survives.' That implied that if harry were not the one to kill him no one could, but if he were to kill harry the prophecy would be fulfilled and anyone could take Voldemort's life. But that didn't mean he had to make it easy on the boy, which was why he had chosen the worst world he could.

There had been worse worlds but sadly the boy's soul hadn't been compatible which meant that either as soon as the boy got there or within a few days the world would rip apart the boy's soul.

But finally Voldemort's had achieved his plan, he had found a world that was compatible with the boy's soul, a world where the boy had no way of getting back and was dark enough that it seemed to be made out of the stuff of nightmares. So with a sinister smirk he allowed a sense victory to wash over him as he watched the boy fade away from existence.

Now he had a world to conquer and this time there was no stupid golden boy to stop him.

.

Harry instantly knew something was different with this recall trip. In every trip he'd made so far there had always been a moment where it felt like he was floating before he was shoved into a recall. In this trip he felt like he was being shoved against a layer of plastic. At the start the force resisted but it eventually gave and harry was shoved through.

Freezing cold hit him with the force of a truck and suddenly he was falling. A second later he slammed into the hard cold ground, his fall only cushioned slightly by the snow. He felt drained, like all the energy had been sucked out of him to get him here. He knew that if he stayed here, naked as he was, with no protection from the snow he would die. But he couldn't find it in himself to care, his life had lost meaning long ago. How many times had he wished or begged for death in that tiny cramped cell?

Besides even if he had wanted to move he would be unable to do so. He hadn't eaten or drank in a week and his muscles were cramped and weak from disuse. He was weak, so weak that he couldn't even move his head. But he'd landed on his back and if he opened his eyes he could see the stars. Smiling slightly through bloodied lips harry felt himself relax. He didn't know how or why but he was free. And that was all he could wish for. He knew he was broken, both in body, soul and mind. He no longer had any desire to continue on in this cruel world. So with once last gaze at the stars above let himself give in to the pulls of unconsciousness in the field of snow knowing it was very unlikely he'd ever wake up.

Sorry if this was rushed I'm just really looking forward to getting to the actual crossover. More of what he went through will be covered in later chapters via flashbacks or memories. I might set up a poll to decide the pairings.