Title: The
Labyrinth of Decaying Memories.
Author: Morbid Romantic.
Genre: Horror/Angst.
Pairing: Tom Riddle/Ginny Weasley.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not the lyrics, characters...nothing.
"Can
you deal with the hallucination?
Can
you steal the hallucination?
I
can hear and feel all that you're thinking
Can
you deal with the hallucination?
When
I'm drowning in the sea, I am
When
you're looking down at me, I am
When
I'm walking in the streets, I am a bullet
When
I'm looking and I find, I am
When
I'm purer than the sky, I am
When
I'm fucking with your mind, I am a bullet..."
- Kidney Thieves (Black Bullet)
Chapter One: The Shadows Breathe
The panic seizes me, sliding an icy hand up over my spine, clenching at my throat. I kneel before the shattered remains of the mirror I had been cleaning, blood seeping from the many cuts upon my hand and wrist. I stare down at my open palm, then back up to the mirror that had shattered without warning.
I struggle to breathe as fear starts to shift through my veins, leaving my skin cold. I look around wildly, unable to find what had destroyed the mirror. I try to breathe deeply, but am only able to admit shallow gasps.
I slowly stand to my feet, dizzy from the lack of oxygen. I raise my wand, muttering "Lumos."
I start to turn in slow circles, looking around the old storage room. Boxes, mirrors, trunks, and an old carriage is all I can see. I take a few steps forward, peeking around a wall of dried cardboard, thick dust muffling my movements.
Someone could have easily snuck up on me in this mess. It's a labyrinth of past lives, thick with decaying memories. I hold my wand high above my head, trying to illuminate the boxes and shelves above me.
Suddenly I stop. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I nearly drop my wand.
The shadows are breathing.
I hear the door to the carriage creak open. I spin around just in time to see it shut. I can feel my bones rattle as I start to shake. The urge to run in the opposite direction is stronger then ever.
I look at my bleeding hand, and the destroyed 1,000 year old mirror that I will get another detention for, no matter what the circumstances.
'Come, Ginny.'' I tell myself. 'Be brave. You are a Gryffindor, are you not?'
I take a deep breath and slowly make my way over to the carriage on tip toe. I struggle to keep my breathing regular, my heart racing.
The carriage starts to sway. I can hear something moving about in it. I stop and shudder, then force myself to continue on.
I reach out for the door handle. I slowly pull the latch, wincing as the door creaks open. I direct the tip of my wand inside, eyes darting about.
Nothing.
The shadows continue to breathe. I freeze, seeing movement out of the corner of my eye. I look around.
Nothing.
I start to back my way towards the door.
A hand slides onto my shoulder. I let out a shriek and spin around, my wand flying out of my hand before I can even think of the proper incantation to say. Suddenly the lights go out. There is darkness, and ragged breathing from somewhere in front of me. I can feel the breath on my face. I let out another screech and stumble back, falling and crawling backwards.
The lights suddenly flicker on. I blink, and look towards the sound of approaching shoes. The brisk pace tells me it is the person who had shoved me in here in the first place to clean up what I could.
"What is going on here?" I hear him growl. I look up into the unsmiling face of Professor Snape. I see his black eyes travel over the broken mirror, then my panting frame that is still upon the floor. "Why in God's name are you on the floor? What did you do to the mirror?"
He glares at me, and before I could answer spits out, "Twenty points from Gryffindor, and another detention."
"But, Professor..." I start to say, pushing myself up from the floor, wincing as I accidentally use the injured hand.
"I don't want to hear it." He snapped. "I want you here tomorrow night at six. Tardiness will result in another detention, so I suggest you try being on time." He gave me one last glare, and then swept his way back through the labyrinth.
I let out a sigh, my fear temporarily forgotten. I make my way out of the room, glass crunching under foot.
I finished unbuttoning my jeans with some difficulty, my now healed hand slightly stiff. I could hear the wind whispering a mournful sonata as I climbed between the cold sheets. I shivered, pulling the blanket tight around me.
The feeling of something in the shadows has not left me since I had left that room. Sometimes the feeling is dull, something I barely noticed. At others, it's so intense, I want to scream, the terror overwhelming.
The detention had exhausted me. Afterwards I had climbed into the Gryffindor common room, hoping to sneak up to my room and fall asleep. But Ron and Hermione had stopped me, asking how things had gone. I had made a face and lied. I told them it was as terrible as I thought it had been. I didn't dare tell them what had gone on.
They made me sit with them around the fire. I pretended to listen to them chatter away, nodding at the appropriate moments. Finally Ron had remarked about how tired I looked. I forced a smile and said goodnight.
My eyes start to close. I can feel the beginning of sleep wrap me in her embrace.
I feel a cold breath on my ear. My eyes snap open, and I struggle to keep my breathing under control. A hand slides onto my hip, and I roll over right onto my back, eyes straining to see in the darkness. I hear a low laugh, and reach over to the nightstand to grab my wand.
It's not there. I left it on the top of my wardrobe. I curse silently to myself and lie as still as possible. Maybe if I don't move it will go away.
I feel the hand again. A strong hand that feels capable of destruction. My breathing becomes ragged; fear numbs me from head to toe. I feel paralyzed.
I suddenly feel the weight of someone moving onto the bed with me, the hand now encircling my arm. The grip tightens painfully, and I jerk myself up and out of the bed. I reach for my wand, and illuminate the room. I spin around, frantic.
Nothing. No one.
I start to hyperventilate. I can see my breath in the air, and I shiver. I feel the overwhelming urge to scream, but keep it to the back or my throat. I wonder briefly if I am going insane.
My bones once again rattle as I begin to shake. I make my way towards the bathroom, lighting the candles near the mirror. I take a brief look at myself and let out a shaky laugh. I must have fallen asleep. I must have been dreaming. I rub a hand over my forehead and turn the sink on.
I lean down and splash some water on my face. I go to do it again, but stop with my hands halfway towards my skin. The water slowly leaks out of my cupped hands, but I pay no attention. My eyes rest on the bruises on my arm. Bruises, which are shaped like fingerprints.
I let the water splash back into the sink and straighten back up.
I let out a scream as my eyes meet his shimmering green ones in the mirror.
TBC
