Tapping
By Montley
She didn't used to always be like this; a maelstrom of destruction, striking fear into anyone or anything that crossed her path.
No, she was a little girl with bouncy, black curls and a smile ever-present on her face, not a wicked sneer or a victorious smirk, but a genuine smile that everyone always failed to notice.
And that wasn't her fault. Evil isn't born, it's grown and bred within an innocent soul.
And indeed it bloomed within her once happy spirit.
xXx
The first time she killed, it was only a muggle; a useless muggle, a toy for her to play with. He begged and pleaded for mercy as she tortured him the best way she knew how, with the Cruciatus, to please her master and bring her anger unto this muggle.
The muggle probably never killed nor robbed nor hurt, but that didn't matter. He was a muggle, and Bellatrix knew the man to be of pure filth.
So he had to die.
xXx
It began when she was eight, seeing the tapestry in Grimmauld Place being scorched by her aunt's wand, tearing a family member off of it. She didn't know who it was, but her aunt screamed of filth as her mother attempted to placate her.
Her father stood in the corner, his fingers twiddling and tapping against the wall, and Bellatrix's eager eyes couldn't leave the sight.
Tap tap…tap…tap tap…tap…tap tap…tap
Again and again, as though he were tapping against a window pane in her mind, again and again. When he ceased the incessant tapping, it never left her mind along with thoughts of fire.
xXx
The tapping could never cease, and as Bellatrix had grown, she knew that she didn't want it to. Over the years it became a beautiful sound all to herself, guiding her towards her future and her fate to join the darkness of the world.
And it pleased her to no end. Her eyes were no longer alit with innocence, rather with a burning fire trapped within her mind.
And she killed, and she tortured and she maimed for only one man of whom she truly held dear in her blackened heart.
xXx
During her years of Hogwarts, the tapping stayed, destroying her mind from the inside out, melting her brain to thought of tapping and nothing else as it repeated and repeated and repeated.
She was only a first year and her mind was already soiled, already messed with. She couldn't blame the tapping on her father; they weren't as happy of a family as they seemed in the eye. Perhaps the tapping had been building in her mind, letting her finally spiral down the path into insanity as a child.
And yet, even with the incessant tapping that haunted her even in her sleep, she was discovered in the House of the Snakes by the older boys, the wiser boys who knew that they could yield her insanity and talent into something special.
What they didn't know is that they would grow to fear the once tiny, little thing they threw into disrepair.
xXx
She murdered whoever was disloyal to her Lord and Master. The man that she couldn't name was truly a God in her eyes. She'd kiss His robes and His feet, bowing whenever she was blessed enough to be in His presence.
He built and shaped her into what she has become in this hell hole of a war between those who are pure and those who are filled to the brim with filth, a thing her family had always feared. He made her cold and cruel, with no sympathy or pity lingering in her heart.
And the tapping stayed, and He was satisfied when He discovered it as He had surfed through her mind. So, he made it louder.
Thus, she could no longer be fixed.
xXx
Her own sisters had begun to fear her and her presence, thinking that they could find themselves at the other end of her wand, even when she wasn't allowed to use magic. They never said no to whatever whim she deemed necessary.
But as Andromeda grew older, she was more defiant against Bellatrix. Bellatrix would never harm her own pure blood, though she regrets that now. Because if she had, Andromeda never would have slept with a muggle, letting her become subdued in filth.
So Bellatrix took pleasure in erasing Andromeda from the Black Tapestry, so no one else could see the filth that her sister brought upon the family.
She would rather die.
xXx
The first war ended, and the tapping continued to brew within her stay at Azkaban. It grew louder and louder, known by her screams during the night. It was all she could ever think of with images of her Lord smirking and toying with the curly mass on her head.
Though she was released and she cackled, the tapping louder than before as her insanity and torture had thickened.
She was released, and she tortured and killed and maimed just as before for this new war against a little, tiny boy.
Thus, she would rule.
xXx
The day she fell into service of her Lord was the best day of her life. He had breathed a new soul into her; he trained her and perfected her straight out of Hogwarts. She was young and eager for Him to touch her and make her His perfect, willing slave.
After He entered her life, she knew nothing more, so she fought for Him and Him only, only partially caring about her family's standing. He was now what mattered most in her shriveled heart.
He was laced in her mind and would never leave the destruction He created.
And the tapping continued, moving her farther along; she became what made people cry, what haunted them in their nightmares and what made them shriek with pain stricken upon them with her wand.
She was a living nightmare, and what He deemed special.
xXx
As she perished from the world, by a furious mother's wand, the tapping ended along with her life. Her bruised and damaged being was finally able to drown into a pit of fire and burning flames that would forever surround her body. There was nothing else that she deserved.
Yet, long before her body was diminished, her true, pure soul had already died.
This was for the Quidditch League Competition using the character Bellatrix.
I used the prompts: 2. Destruction 6. Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. – Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina 7. Tap on the window