A Forest Tale
Standard disclaimer: JK Rowling created the characters and setting for this story. This was work is not being produced for commercial gain.
A Forest Tale
She lay on the edge of the forest, dying. At least, she hoped so. The pain would stop if she died. The pain was too much for her. The pain of the wounds and the knowledge of what those wounds meant. She could feel her heartbeat, could hear it loud in her own ears. Thumping away. With every beat, with every thump, more of her lifeblood spilled to the forest floor.
Let this beat be the last, she prayed.
The wounds weren't coagulating; the blood flowed as freely now as when they had been inflicted.
She had seen him coming, running madly towards her. Her spells missed the mark, he was too fast, too unpredictable. Then he was on top of her.
He had grabbed her hand and broken it, her wand was lost immediately. His face was next to hers, she could smell his stink. His one hand squeezed her broken one, the other in her hair holding her still.
He leaned forward, opened his mouth so she could feel his hot breath on her skin, and then he licked her, from chin to ear.
She didn't have time to be repulsed before he bit her.
His savage teeth ripped at the flesh of her cheek. He then moved to her ear, biting it off. Every bit of skin he could find he ripped at with his teeth, mutilating her flesh.
It was then his strength holding her upright: her knees had given way, he held her by the hair ignoring her screams
She thrashed and kicked at him until he let her go. She fell to the floor, and he followed her.
His fingernails, thick with filth but sharpened, ripped at her clothes, exposing her flesh. He laughed cruelly as he ripped out her belly piercing. Spitting it out, he threw his head back as he laughed. It was then the spell struck him. She heard Hermione's scream of defiance.
He was blown clear of her and other spells struck near him. She watched him run. On all fours he bounded off into the forest; no other spell hit him, but on he ran.
She was left alone. No one came to her as the battle raged on. She slowly lost more blood. Beat by beat. Moment by moment.
Let this one be the last. Let this be . . . the end.