A/N: This is written for the Hogwarts Games in the shot put competition where I had to write a 1,000 word fic of my OTP. It is also for the OTP Boot Camp with the prompt morbid and the Honeydukes Competition in the blood flavoured lollypops section which had to feature killing or torture. It was meant to be for the Fanfiction Tournament and focus on the theme of Christmas, but I did not get it finished on time.

As a warning this is also very dark. It is not traditionally how a fic focused on Christmas should be. In fact, it is the opposite.

)o(

He had not turned off the wireless. The device that was made of so much more metal and strange contraptions than anything he remembered in his childhood was still tinkering away. The sound echoed from the much larger speakers than he recalled, reached his ears. He loathed admitting he even remembered the words from the long painful years he had to endure in the orphanage.

The carols went on and on weaving in time with the other music that was created and more to his taste. His eyes were drawn to the conductor and the rest of the ensemble with a level of morbid fascination. Each flick of the hand and each wave of the instrument focused his attention and left his bloodied eyes more concentrated and caused them to flare red in the fairy lights that were wrapped around the plastic pine tree.

His lips curled upwards as a particularly long wail sounded from the musician and he added the noise with a note of contentment.

"I do not think she is appreciates your attention, Bella," he remarked his voice high pitched for a man, but cold enough to match the snow falling from the sky outside. "It is rather rude."

The woman he was addressing looked up, her tresses of satin locks hanging down her face along with a light splattering of scarlet substance. Her attractive face was even paler in the dim lighting, though her dark eyes shone brightly. The surface gleamed and bubbled like boiling water. She was truly alive none more so when she turned her attention to him and found he was watching her. Her blood red lips creaked into a broad grin highlighting all the merriment she was gaining from her task and her audience.

"No, I don't think she does, my Lord," she murmured her lips seemingly caressed his title like it was a holy word before she flicked her gaze back to her prey; her tone switching to a completely contrasting hiss as she slammed her boot into the woman's side. "I'll have to teach you some manners. Crucio!"

Like the puppeteer that had finally pulled the strings on the puppet, the figure at Bella's feet snapped into life. Her back arched and her chest pushed out in the shirt painted with the foolish figure they called Santa Clause as the music sounded again with an ear piercing scream.

Voldemort watched each movement hypnotised and amused. He could have so easily brought out his wand and taken the pleasure of torturing the muggle filth himself, but he chose not to. He did not need to waste his energy on the filth and the filth was unworthy of his focus. What's more, he may not have lifted his wand, but he knew he was really the one torturing her. He had crafted Bella as a weapon just like his wand. His weapon would do anything he asked without question or fault. It only meant he needed to stand back and observe how his efforts in crafting his weapon had paid off.

"Stop," he said his voice soft and barely audible over the yells of pain, but it reached Bella's ears and, despite the joy she was gaining by the torture, her hand jolted upwards as she ended the curse as she turned to him. Neither spared a glance at the woman whose body had finally stilled, though she continued to whimper softly. "I think it is time for a change."

"A change?" Bella's eyes lit up like all her Christmases had come early. He eyed his toy with amusement as he took a long stride from the fake Christmas tree. She quivered under his presence as he curled his hand around her shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the cloth. He was not impacted by it, but he knew she would feel his power and the awe of his power would impact her. It always would amuse him to see someone shiver from his aura.

"Yes." His grin broadened as his hand slid into his robes. Bella flicked her gaze to follow the progress of his hands that glowed over the black fabric. Most would be afraid, but she was no. She only seemed fascinated and overawed.

It was the correct reaction.

"Like what, my Lord?"

He did not answer verbally, but removed what was hidden. The silver gleamed in the light its elaborate handle etched and engraved with obsidian. "Use this."

Bella reached for the blade and he handed it over without a word. She was bubbling and jubilant as she fingered the weapon. She caressed it softly and delicately with all the reverence she displayed towards him when he allowed her to enter his bed and touch him.

"Thank you, my Lord," she gushed with adoration. "I will use it as you wish."

Without replying, he did not step away even though the item had been delivered. He slithered up behind her wrapping one arm around the curve of her hip while the other carefully pushed away a lock of hair so he could press his lips to her ear.

"Then, do it. "

Stepping back, he watched as Bella pulled herself back together and drew closer towards the filth. Leaning down beside her, she ignored the pleas of mercy and pain. She only sunk the dagger into the muggle's arm and straight through an artery. The blood sprayed up into Bella's face and over the trails over his robes, but he did not flinch. He only continued to watch the display with the same cool smirk.

In the background the Christmas carols continued to play and the fairy lights on the Christmas tree continued to flicker. It was all so poetic and strangely appropriate.

After all, Voldemort was sure that he and Bella were enjoying their Christmas treat.