The full works of Marcus Peterson that I've inserted throughout the fiction can be found here at the following URL: http://literature.gothic.ru/eng/amateur/peterson/marcus.htm
I would like to take the time to warn everyone that this fic isn't going to be pretty. I'm of the opinion that the events of Tom Riddle's life were not pleasant nor was he ever in anyway a good child or good for that matter. If you are easily offended by fascist - racist - ethnocentric views and ideals, death, murder, thoughts of genocide and malicious intent I suggest you go somewhere else.
I would also like to thank anyone ( and you know who you are ) for pushing me to write this. God knows this was a long time in the making.
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Of Blood
Through the cave a scream echoes and dies
Followed by a thousand men that cries
An evil beast, with a virgin's face
A dangerous threat for the human race
-Marcus Peterson; In Silence
"Darling, we need to talk."
Nothing good ever came from those words, but Tom Riddle could tell by the look in his wife's eyes that there was something wrong, he dreaded the worse, "The baby?"
"No, the baby's fine," she replied smoothing a frail hand over her rounding tummy wherein their child, the baby they created with love was growing. "It's about me."
"You?" As much relieved as Tom found himself, he could help but stare confused at the lithe platinum haired woman before him. "Sit down, tell me."
Urging herself down beside the man, Morgana Riddle curled upon the love seat within the spacious smoking room of the Riddle Family House, which was located in the village of Little Hangleton. Morgana never lied to her husband, she was a faithful and loyal woman who loved this man with all her heart and soul. However, there were certain things Morgana never did tell her husband.
He used to ask about her family, where she grew up, and even where she attended school. Morgana always seemed to skillfully avoid answering the questions before the subject was changed. Her past was just that, her past. They were together, happily married and now expecting a child. That was all that mattered right? What Morgana was hiding from her husband, his family was the fact that unlike ordinary people, Morgana was capable of using magic. Morgana was a witch, and the Riddles were nothing more than Muggles.
Morgana had always been afraid that if she told Tom what she was he might turn her away, she'd been so afraid she hid the fact away and neglected to use magic all together. However, as the babe growing in her womb developed more, she knew that it would not be an ordinary child. If there was a time to tell Tom, Morgana supposed it was now.
"Darling...,"
"You're not sick are you?"
"No...," she responded with a thoughtful shake of her head, "you know how you always wanted to know about my past? I think...," upon feeling the familiar feeling of her husband's strong hands wrapping around her own Morgana paused and found her husband's gaze. The simple act of their hands intertwined was enough to calm her nerves, and as the baby rolled in her womb Morgana began to tell her husband everything only to have her fears confirmed.
"Get out." Tom Riddle's voice was cold, hurt, and distant.
"What?"
"Get out," he repeated in a numb a voice.
"But Tom --"
"Get out of my house. Now," Tom ordered pushing her up from the couch and towards the doors.
"No!" Morgana cried out in protest, but lacking the physical strength her husband over powered her. She was forced up from the couch and straight for the front doors of the house.
"Magic. Witch. You're nothing but a freak. I want you out of my sight, out of my house!"
"How can you say that to me? I'm your wife ... the baby!" she pleaded between sobs.
"I don't have a wife or a child."
"Tom!"
"Out!"
And with a deafening slam the doors of the Riddle House shut on Morgana and her unborn child for now, but certainly not forever.
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[ Four Months Later ]
"Just one more push, Mum, you can do it."
Morgana's screams ripped through the empty halls of the Church's Hospital ward as a searing pain ripped through her body. She had been in labor for only ten minutes by the doctor's watch, and the frail woman seemed to have nothing but complications. Fully dilated and ready to conceive Morgana barely had the strength to push.
"C'mon, you can do it."
As the pregnancy drew on, Morgana couldn't help but feeling her energy dwindling away as if she was really giving everything she had to give this baby life, her precious baby. She managed to support herself and manage over the past four months on her own as an expecting single mother. She hadn't given up, and she certainly wouldn't now her baby needed her. Bearing down and holding the plump nurse's hand she summoned up every last ounce of energy she had and pushed.
"It's a boy!"
Morgana's face contorted with pain and covered in sweat seemed to glow as the small blood covered babe writhe and cried out with it's first breaths. Tom, our baby... Tom, Morgana thought to herself as she felt her body grow heavy with exhaustion and laid back feeling spent. The plump nurse came and offered the wrapped babe, carefully placing him within his mother's arms.
"What are you going to call him, Mum?"
Morgana smiled, as far as she was concerned there was only one name to call him, "Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"A lovely name."
Morgana ignored the closing darkness of her vision, only her son mattered at the moment, "My Tom." For the first time in his life, the baby opened his eyes to embrace the world and before Morgana Riddle passed on she thought to herself how beautiful he was, just like his father.