Title: Betrayal
Rating: R
Warnings: Cursing, blood and death
Author notes: I'm not in any way, shape, form or fashion a Katie/Marcus shipper, but this was a challenge one week at the LJ comm SortingHatDrabs and I just couldn't pass it up! It's dark and angsty and if you're disturbed by a horrific death in any way, this is probably not for you.
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Long black robes billowed behind Marcus as he cut through the Alley, ignoring the screams and flashes of the battle around him. His blue eyes gleamed from behind his mask with an unholy mirth as he stalked his prey. She glanced back over her shoulder every so often as she ran, but he knew he'd catch her.
iFear/i wasn't an emotion often attributed to Katie Bell, the fiery Order member who had held his interest for year, but he could practically ismell/i it as she fled from him.
His lips curled into a ruthless smirk as he rounded the corner. There she was- ihis/i Katie, trapped like a little mouse. The Death Eaters had locked down Diagon- no one could Apparate in or out.
"Well, well, well," he remarked as he pulled off his mask, letting it dangle from his fingertips before hitting the cobblestones, "it seems that I've caught me a little lioness."
"Flint," Katie growled, reaching for her wand, "I thought I recognized your foul stench."
His eyes were cold as he disarmed her. "You ran from me, Katie," he chastised, "You know never to do that. You're imine/i."
"I am not, nor have I ever been, iyours/i," she spat at him. "You disgusting, sniveling, cowardly piece of..."
He was across the space between them in seconds, his hand at her throat. "Watch your words, witch," he rasped. "My patience is nearing its end with you."
"What are you going to do, Flint?" she taunted, barely getting the words out as she struggled to breathe. "Kill me?"
Marcus yanked her flush against him, intent on showing her iexactly/i what he intended to do to her, when he stilled. "What the fuck?" he muttered before comprehension dawned. He cast enraged eyes up at her, ignoring her yelp as he yanked her loose-fitting robes open.
There, hidden by the flowing black material, was a small but well-defined baby bump.
His vision tinted over with red, his blood boiling in his veins. That islut/i had let another man put his hands on her. He let out a roar of anger as the back of his hand colided with her face, making her head snap to the side in reaction.
"Who is he, you whore?" he growled, jerking her up by her hair and slamming her back against the stone wall. "What did he do to you?"
Despite her hazy vision and the blood trickling from her split lip, Katie laughed softly. "Stewart loves me," she said, "And nothing you can do will ever change that."
Fury raged through him at her words. His Katie, his betrothed, had betrayed him, and for that, she must suffer. Without pausing to think, he took the dagger from his belt and stabbed it through her throat. Her crimson blood ran hot over his hands and robes, and slowly, the life faded from her laughing brown eyes.
He tossed her broken body to the ground like a rag doll, battered and useless. "Fuck love."
*~*~*~*~*~*
And that's that. I might be writing a sequel; it just depends on how the muses move. Comments are love!