Title: Whispers in the Dark
Author: OCDdegrassi
Pairing: Percy/Tom Riddle Jr.
Rating: M
Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Slash, Nightmares
Note: Several notes before you start (please read):
1. This story includes rape/non-con, so do not read if this will be triggering for you!
2. This takes place during Percy's 6th year – which was the same time as "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets" when Ginny was being possessed by Tom Riddle's diary. Keep in mind that no one knew that Tom Riddle was actually Voldemort or that Ginny was possessed by him until the end of the book, so therefore, Percy does not know any of that yet in this story.
3. I have always seen a lot of similarities between Tom Riddle and Percy – both ambitious, intelligent, head boys, wanting respect and power and coming from a family where they didn't get it. My head-canon is that Voldemort would want Percy to join his cause, because he could see a little of himself in Percy.
4. In this story, I've written Tom Riddle in a way that is similar to Freddy Krueger from "A Nightmare on Elm Street" so the idea of getting to people in their sleep is not mine.
5. The lyrics (in the beginning quote) are from "Whispers in the Dark" by Skillet.
6. Written for the "Dark Things Competition." Prompt: Whispers.
xxx
"You'll never be alone. When darkness comes, you know I'm never far; hear the whispers in the dark."
He came to Percy in his dreams, though they felt more like a horrible reality, terrifying and unescapable, trapping Percy and holding him hostage. Every time Percy closed his eyes, he was there, as if he had been waiting for him. Percy stayed awake for as long as he could, but eventually, the inevitable would happen, and his eyes would feel heavy and begin to droop as fell into a fitful sleep. That's when the nightmares began.
He was trapped with the whispers in the dark and that face, more handsome than it should have been for someone so sinister. The man – boy, since he was about Percy's age – had pale skin and jet black hair, but it was his eyes that made Percy's blood run cold.
His eyes seemed to look into Percy's very soul, making him feel exposed and vulnerable, and there was an undeniable maliciousness that lurked beneath the surface of those dark orbs. The boy was angry; Percy could sense it. It was restrained and locked inside, yet it still lingered close enough to the surface that it could explode at any moment. He seemed more like a dark creature than human.
Tom Riddle. The boy practically hissed out his name in disgust, and Percy didn't understand why he didn't just change it if he despised it so much. Tom was relentless, coming to Percy every night without fail, leaving Percy desperate for a moment of peace. His voice was smooth and cold, and it sounded empty, as if the person speaking was only a shell of a human with nothing left inside.
"You are better than your blood-traitor family, Percy. You could be so much more than your father – lazy, too poor to care for his own children. You are too intelligent and ambitious for them. They never did understand you," he said sympathetically, but Percy knew that it was all an act. The boy was circling him as if he were prey.
"I too know what it is like when people don't appreciate your talents," Tom continued, suddenly stopping to look at Percy calculatingly.
"You could have everything; power, respect; everything you've always wanted is right within your grasp. All you have to do is reach out and take it," he stated lightly, walking behind Percy and moving so close to him that Percy could feel the coldness seeping off his skin like ice, and the red-head shivered.
"Join me," he finished, whispering in Percy's ear. He bit lightly on the lobe, gently at first, but then hard enough to draw blood, revealing the threat beneath the "opportunity". Tom wanted his allegiance, whether Percy would give it willingly or not, but that's exactly what Percy didn't understand. Who was this man to request loyalty from him? He felt like he was missing something; some crucial bit of information, but he couldn't fit the pieces together in his head, which felt foggy and distorted.
Tom connected their lips, kissing Percy gently, yet there was an underlying surge of power to it, and it terrified Percy. He felt frozen. It was his dream, yet he had no control over his body anymore. It felt like he was a puppet, and Tom was pulling the strings. He wanted to argue, to push Tom away, but he couldn't move. His limbs and bones felt heavy, like they were suddenly made of stone that was being pushed towards the ground, and he wanted to argue or scream for help, but his mouth wouldn't open.
Tom smirked, the sinister glint in his eyes, as the world around Percy became even more fuzzy and blurry. Tom walked behind Percy again, and the red-head tensed in fear. He knew what was coming, but he was helpless to stop it. Tom shoved into him roughly, no preparation or lubrication, and Percy felt like crying out, but his mouth was still wired shut.
Tom moved slowly, so slowly, as if drawing out his torture, with methodical thrusts, ripping Percy open with a relentless pain. It hurt like nothing Percy had ever felt before. It was unbearable, and his eyes began to water, but Tom wouldn't stop. He enjoyed this too much. It wasn't about the sex; Percy doubted that Tom even cared about that part. This was about having power and control over another human being, and it made Percy feel sick.
Tom yanked Percy's hair, lifting his head up so that Percy's ear was right by Tom's mouth, and then he whispered once more; words that Percy didn't understand. Percy didn't even think that they were human. They sounded snake-like. Those whispers haunted him even in his waking hours.
Percy could do nothing but let his body be used and abused. He silently begged for Tom to leave him alone, and Tom paused, as if reading his thoughts, before resuming his thrusts, even more slow and deliberate.
"You will never be able to escape me," he whispered dangerously. He would slide long, sharp fingernails over Percy's chest, leaving little stripes of blood on the otherwise pale and freckled skin.
"You will join me, Percy," he continued, and Percy choked back a sob. When Tom finally emptied himself inside the red-head's hole, Percy felt a mixture of nausea and relief that it was finally over. Tom withdrew quickly, and Percy flinched. He always gave Percy an odd look afterwards; it was undoubtedly cold, but there was something else there that Percy couldn't quite place.
Then he left without another word, causing Percy to wake up in a cold sweat, his heart racing. He still felt sore from Tom's penetration and the blood was still dripping down his chest, as if the dream had merged with reality. It was the same every night.
He wanted to tell someone, because this wasn't normal, but what could he say? If he told anyone that he was having dreams about being raped by some boy named Tom, who whispered to join him, then they would be disgusted; they would think that Percy was sick and twisted, and he wouldn't blame them.
He often thought that about himself, because why else would he keep having these dreams unless he had some perverse, disturbing desire subconsciously that was manifesting itself that way? The thought scared him. He didn't want to delve into the dark depths of his mind if that's what lay inside.
He thought perhaps that it was his own accidental magic that caused him to be sore and bleeding after he woke up, because that was the only explanation that made sense. He had read and researched every type of dream in the library, even in the restricted section, and he had never found anything speaking of a dark magic that could get to you in your dreams.
So he tried to accept his fate, and during the day, he pushed his fears aside, hiding behind a façade of normality and pretending that everything was alright. He could almost believe it himself until he felt the sting of one of his cuts or the pain below whenever he sat down. He could barely walk without looking rigid and uncomfortable, and the twins teased him mercilessly about it, but it was better than them knowing the truth.
Yet inevitably, night would come again, and Percy would try as hard as he could to stay awake but to no avail. He would eventually succumb to exhaustion once again, and the darkness would swallow him up, leaving him face to face with his worst nightmare and the whispers in the dark.
xxx
A/N: I have always wanted to write this pairing, as strange as that seems. Reviews are lovely and very appreciated; flames are not.