A/N: Voldemort decides on the next Muggle town to attack. Tom Riddle Jr is known to be a very bitter and calculating man and as an aspiring Dark Lord, he has to be very smart, organized and strategic. So just a little feature of him planning his next attack. I do not own Harry Potter.
Submission for:
The Dance Competition: Round 7 - Write about a character who is well-organized and smart
Greek Mythology Mega Prompt Challenge: Lamia – Write about Lord Voldemort.
The Chess piece challenge: King - Write about Dumbledore or Voldemort
The light from the candle hanging from the fixture in the ceiling casts a sickly yellow glow on his pale skin. He stands above the large map of Britain laid out upon the large meeting room table, his hands behind his back. Marked in red are all the Wizarding locations in the country, prime locations to spread fear into the hearts of those who think they are safe from his reach. They think they are able to defend themselves, but they do not know how wrong they are. He could do something at anyone of them in the blink of an eye, but these locations are also too open. It is not time to strike there yet.
He cast an eye at the larger red dot which marks the Ministry. Oh, but he will strike there soon. Once all the pieces are in place, the positions are filled and the right people are in his control, he will strike. But there currently no rush. Fudge's ignorance has bought him the time he needs, but if everything goes according to plan, he won't need it. He just has to wait for the right time.
His eyes rake across the mess of black dots that surround the red ones. Those are the scorch marks of the destruction he has caused, the blemishes that remain from all the muggle towns and cities he has attacked. He grins as he remembers the screams and the fire he has seen through his followers' memories. How he wishes he could have been there himself, to see the life leave those Muggles' eyes himself, but he is 'dead'. He must stay inside and rely on his followers to be his hand and his voice, to do his bidding when called upon.
He takes a deep breath as he finally makes his decision. He takes his wand and adds another scorch mark to the map, indistinguishable from the rest if not for the small line of rising smoke. This is perfect place to strike next. It was a small muggle town, just a few miles from London, with a population of approximately 400 people. His Death Eaters could raid the town by night and leave just enough alive to spread the word. There would be screaming, there would be fire, and there would be blood. The Muggles would be frightened, and all the while, Fudge would deny any magical involvement.
He grins to himself before he casts the spell to call his inner circle. It is time to give instructions.