A/N: This is a very hastily written entry for the QLFC Round 9 - Shakespeare round! Written by the Seeker!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Out Damned Spot
Bellatrix Lestrange was not someone with a conscious, in actual fact she prided herself on her ability to be able to kill without thought and without discrimination and still have a smile on her face. Of course it might not be the sanest smile and it tended to send children, and most adults, running in the opposite direction screaming in terror, but still. No one could fault that Bellatrix provided the ultimate service with a smile.
She should be happy really, ecstatic. The Dark Lord was alive and well, more powerful than ever before, and he had recently announced his existence to the world with a deadl battle that took place in the very halls of the ministry. Right under the Minister's nose! The fool.
There had been casualties on both sides during that awesome fight and Bellatrix had enjoyed herself thoroughly as she tortured and terrified the ickle children who had rushed from Hogwarts to save their pet dog. Her cousin and family blood traitor Sirius Black.
Bellatrix had taken great pleasure in killing him. There had been such a thrill, such a sense of excitement and joy as she twisted her wand and spat out the incantation. Watching, wide eyed, as the bolt of green light had hit her cousin squarely in the back. She had watched the smile slide off his face and the light die in his eyes. She had heard, and delighted in, the screams of the young Harry Potter as he watched the closest thing he had to a father die right in front of him.
She had even taunted the boy, dancing away from him cawing and cackling. "I killed Sirius Black!" she cried giggling as the young boy blind in his rage followed her right into the arms of the Dark Lord.
So she couldn't understand why it was that her dead, stupid, blood traitor cousin was now haunting her. And she didn't mean in the physical sense. Sirius Black had certainly passed on to the next life, he was not floating around the halls of Malfoy Manner shouting at her and trying to throw stuff but still Bellatrix saw him everywhere.
He would stand at the end of hallways and sneer at her but as soon as she rushed at him in a complete rage blind with hatred for her dead cousin he disappeared. And not in a poof or with a bang as if he had used magic or apparated no. He disappeared in to thin air like an apparition.
She saw him in the reflection of mirrors and his face swam in her goblets of wine. It drove her mad that he just looked at her with a look of disgust and condemnation on his handsome face. She wanted him to say something, to shout and scream at her. Noise she could deal with, she was louder and fouler than anyone but she couldn't handle the quiet looks of contempt.
That was how she came to be stood in front of the mirror in one of the many bathrooms dotted all over Malfoy Manner whilst the Dark Lord held a very important meeting about how to take over the ministry she was still being tormented by the cousin she had already rid herself of.
"What do you WANT?" she screamed at the mirror, snapping at the image reflected at her. It showed Sirius just behind her shoulder but she knew from experience that he wasn't really there.
The image of Sirius in the mirror smirked at her as screamed at him and, blind with rage and madness, she began to claw at the mirror, pounding at the glass so hard it shattered causing spider webs of cracks to cut across his still smirking face.
Bellatrix looked down at her hands and was shocked to see her usually pale skin now stained with crimson blood. She turned on the tap quickly allowing the cool water to wash away the evidence of her madness but she washed and washed but there was still so much blood.
She looked up again at the mirror and could see that the apparition of Sirius was still there and still smirking, but now blood covered him and she could see that he was actually dead stood behind her.
For the first time in a long time Bellatrix could feel the cold hand of fear clawing up her throat, choking her. She looked away so that she could pretend he wasn't there, wasn't behind her waiting for her to slip up and offer him the perfect moment to kill her.
The blood still covered her hands, and as much as she scrubbed and scrubbed until the pale skin turned a raw pink the blood still flowed over them and into the basin. She began to mutter feverishly to herself about the blood about how there was so much and how it could not be possible.
Eventually she stopped scrubbing and just allowed the blood to swallow them whole, she turned looking for the spot where her cousin haunted her from but as per usual she could not see him, she could just feel him watching her.
She sunk to her knees cradling her bloody hands to her chest and embracing the feeling of pain and torture that had taken root in her soul and she began to cry. But even the guilt she felt could not remain pure, and soon the great sobs that tore themselves from her throat became cackles tinged with madness.
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