Voldemort stood at the front of the headstone of a grave with four deatheaters knelling before him.
"Do you know why I have ask you here tonight Crouch." He said to the younger of three men. Crouch's head sank lower as he answered.
"You wish for us to retrieve the Lestrange brothers from Azkaban, my lord." Voldemort gave a slight smile distorting his usual dark demeanor.
"And do you know what will happen if you fail?" he said this time to Bellatrix.
"Nothing Pleasant." She replied Voldemort chuckled.
"Your answers never fail to amuse me Bella and they never fail to be right." His eyes flared slightly; his voice became even darker, sharper and colder at the last few words and the deatheaters shivered as if they had been doused in icy water.
"Now be on your way and if you fail you might as well be caught and stay in Azkaban as it will be easy compared to what you will receive from me." The deatheaters rose one by one, bowing their final bows, before they turned readying themselves to disapperate. Before any of them did however there was a snapping of branches and crunching of leaves beyond the darkness of the forest. The deatheaters drew their wands and watched as a figure appeared out of the bushes.
It appeared to be a boy about eighteen or nineteen. He wore a black robe which buttoned to his waist then divided to end at his knees. A pair of black slacks were visible underneath and he wore what had once been white socks. As he appeared fully into the light you could see the boy was very thin and pale and was covered in blood. His face was speckled with it, the edges of his robes, his use-to-be white socks where now bright red, even the tips of his hair seemed to be clumped together with the thick scarlet liquid. He looked around the clearing that he had just entered and seemed to be looking for something. Then he spotted the four deatheaters who all had their wands pointed at him.
"Oh woops…" He said not at all fazed by the wands that seemed ready to strike. "…I seemed to have interrupted a privet satanic ritual, I'll search for a bar someplace else he said bowing slightly and turning away.
"HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR BACK TO THE DARK LORD!!!!" Bellatrix shouted "CRUSIO!" The red light shot out towards the boy and just before it hit him he turned pulling his wand from his sleeve blocking the spell with a slight flick of his wand making red sparks blast in all directions. One hit Dolohov in the shoulder and he cringed as a fraction of the spell moved through his body and he glared over at Bellatrix. The boy stepped forward a little out of the forest again returning his wand to his sleeve.
"The Dark Lord?" The boy questioned and his face suddenly dawned with realization. "So you are the famous Dark Lord Voldemort. My apologies I was unaware that I was in the presents of greatness." He said looking around at the deatheaters. "And of course his loyal deatheaters, you are not as intelligent as I would have thought." He grinned revealing a pair of very sharp canines which were also shinning with blood. "I have heard great things of your blood it is said that the potter boy's blood runs under your skin." He licked his top lip, Rookwood was not happy about being called unintelligent and the other deatheaters shifted.
"How dare you speak the dark lord's name." Crouch said growling. The boy pinched his nose in annoyance and flicked his hand in Crouch's direction.
"Be silent child your voice is very grating." At the flick of his hand a needle appeared in front of Crouch's mouth and began to sew his mouth shut while he screamed in silence clawing at the stitching on his mouth.
"AVADA KADAVRA!" Rookwood shouted, the boy put up his arms in front of his face and was blasted back into the forest a ways. Dolohov chuckles as he watches Rookwood lick the excess green sparks from his wand shivering as the deadly shock ran down his spin, it's not enough to kill him. Dolohov taps Crouch's face ending the agonizing spell and Crouch pulls himself up growling slightly. The deatheaters turn to Voldemort bowing again and start to walk away into the darkness of the graveyard Dolohov smashing headstones with his wand as he went. The sound of movement makes them all stop as the boy walks out of the trees brushing the dirt off his robes.
"That wasn't very polite." He said straightening up to find Voldemort standing in front of him.
"Where does your allegiance lye?" He asked looking very curious. The boy gave a crooked smile.
"To those who let me eat what I want." He replied.
"What would you require from me to acquire your obedience?" The boy's eyes became wide as answered.
"A vial of your blood." Voldemort raised an eyebrow, he then transformed a rock into a vial, tapped his wrist and let a slow stream of blood fill it. His wrist healed as the blood reached the top; Voldemort capped it and handed it to the boy.
"And what is your name boy? I have not heard it yet." The boy stepped back into a bow and replied.
"Kelkor, My Lord." The boy said kneeling in a bow.