Disclaimer: I own nothin'. Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop were both mentioned by J.K. Rowling in HBP.
A/N: Back in HBP, Dumbledore visits the orphanage Tom Riddle grew up in. Mrs. Cole tells him of Tom Riddle, and how he once took Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop up to explore a cave and they were never quite right afterwards. Sounds like rabid plot bunny to me…
A/N 2: Knowing HBP will help this story make sense… like, really. Otherwise, be prepared to be totally clued out. Probably not for the faint hearted xD.
The Road to Hell…
"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."
It's a mass of grey, white and black, the hallways of our orphanage. It's orderly and tidy and average. One would never imagine anything other than disciplined young adults emerging from the walls of its dull, straightforward confines. But that was before Him.
If you were to walk through our halls – perhaps you are a government inspector, or a social worker – you would just see hundreds of monotonous children, flocking like sheep from class to class. After all, there's safety in numbers.
You might even see me, Amy Benson, among the crowd. Of course, I'd register as nothing but yet another face and soon, I'd fade into just another one of them.
You can tell this building had once been grand; you can almost imagine the high chandeliers reflecting off thick tapestries and dark mahogany stands. That was an awfully long time ago. Now the splendour has faded to crumbling white walls that only stare back at you.
They take us to the countryside by the sea once a year. They tell us that the fresh, salty air does well to our health. They pretend that they actually care, but we all know that it's no coincidence that every trip is right before our annual government sponsored medical check-ups. Merlin knows how it'd look on their clean reputation if one of us took ill then.
Tom Riddle was the nicest looking boy in the orphanage back then, and all the girls fancied him, secretly. But the boys, they whispered terrible things about him behind his back. That day he smiled at me, and I thought about how nice it was when the sun reflected from his eyes and I saw a glint of reddish brown in them. We'd been exploring the seaside, me, him, and Dennis Bishop.
"Follow me," Tom had said with that smile, "I want to show you something…"
If you went through our medical records, mine might catch your eye. It's the only one with bright red writing on it. Well, me and Dennis. Our records are quite similar, actually. For 10 years, you'd only see small black printing proclaiming our health and well being.
He led us into a cavern overlooking the ocean. It would have been pretty, if it weren't for the thunderous waves slapping the sharp rocks below. I don't even know how we managed to get there. He smiled at me again, and I began remembering all the stories they told us about what happened when strange boys took little girls into dark caves… but Dennis was with us, so it was okay.
My teeth began to chatter and I huddled closer to Dennis. I wondered what we were doing here, why Tom was smiling.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Tom observed, talking for the first time since arriving. He chuckled.
Privately, I disagreed, but merely shivered in response.
"Not too many things are as beautiful, not anymore. Most things have lost it," he continued, leaning against the mouth of the cave.
The stone walls of this cave were slimy and wet gunk dripped off of it and ran in little rivulets into the darkness.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Distantly, I heard the wind whistle and gulls scream.
"You understand, don't you Amy…? Don't you think some things aren't how they're supposed to be? Don't you think it's unfair that you never got to have a mother or a father or a family while the other boys and girls did?"
I wanted to shout, to warn him to be careful, lest he topple over the edge and be swept away, but I felt Dennis grip my arm and I gripped him back.
"Don't you think that those boys and girls should hurt like you and I do, Amy? Shouldn't they have to suffer too? Some things are very wrong with this world, Amy. Things that need to be changed."
He looked off to the distance, observing the white foam roll back with to waves and into the sea over and over again, with mild interest.
"But here… here, we're on top of the world aren't we? Higher than everyone else. We can to anything, anything. We've got the power, and that's all we need. It's beautiful, power."
"T – Tom…" I stuttered meekly, wondering why my voice was shaking, "it – it's getting cold. We – we should go back…"
He turned and looked at me for a moment, me and Dennis.
"No, I like it here," he said, just as a gust of icy wind came, tangling into my hair and echoing into the dark tunnels that ran behind us. "A storm is coming."
That's when we felt the first raindrops.
The 11th year, you'd see in bright red, Prone to hallucinations; mental instabilities.
Right under that report, there is another one. It's small, as if someone had wanted to make it as incorrigible as possible. Deceased, it says. Cause unknown. Well, that's what they say. The day before they'd shipped me to the asylum.
"Come here," he told me quietly.
I held back, edging closer to Dennis. I saw dark spots of raindrops appear on the floor in front of us. I was wearing my new blouse and skirt today.
"Come here now, Amy," he said again, more commanding this time.
I began to feel calmer, a little bit light headed. I paused, and slowly obeyed, wrestling my arm from Dennis' grasp. When I reached him, he grabbed my forearm painfully and I started, with a sharp intake of breath. I wondered what would happen if I shoved him now. Would I go down with him?
"Look out there," he said to me. "Look at how far you can see… it just goes on and on… doesn't it?"
"One day… one day I'll make sure things are right over there. I'll change it - and people will listen to me. I can make them. I'm special Amy, I'm different."
His voice shook with vigour. Or was it excitement?
"They'll all listen to me, and those who think I'm wrong, they'll hurt. I can do that, Amy, make them hurt."
He paused, licking his lips.
"Then, everything can be beautiful again. Everything that isn't… we'll get rid of, cleanse away. And I don't lie, Amy. I don't lie."
I felt myself stiffen, my breathing shallow. What did he mean? What was he trying to say?
"People are afraid of pain, Amy. Everyone is afraid. Fear is a weakness… but it's always good to know what people fear. You can use fear against people. Blood too. Making them bleed… no one likes seeing their own blood."
"Blood is the most precious… it's the strongest bond."
He glanced at me.
"You and I… we've got no bonds in this world. No blood. None that want us, anyway. But we'll find them one day… make them hurt…"
How could he talk this way? I hardly recognized this boy in front of me... was he really the one I spied on through the keyhole and daydreamed of in class?
I fingered the familiar silver thimble around my left index finger, the last remnant I had of my birthmother.
"You monster…" I hissed, suddenly angry at him. Hating him.
"What?" he asked sharply, grim suddenly, iron grip tightening.
"You're a monster." I repeated. "A monster! You can't… talk like that. You just don't! You can't make people into whatever you want! You can't control them!"
I felt a cold raindrop splatter onto the bridge of my nose and trickle into my mouth.
"You can't… hurt them... just like that. For some sick fantasy of yours…"
"Who are you? Who are you really, Tom Riddle? Who ARE you?"
"That's just the thing, Amy," he replied. "I'm not quite sure myself."
"Let go of me!" I spat, struggling desperately. "Let go!"
He smiled, but there was no niceness in it anymore. I clawed at his hand, trying, but not succeeding in freeing myself. He hissed in pain as I drew blood.
"That's where you're wrong… my sweet…" he whispered, trapping both my wrists with surprising strength. "But it's your choice… I suppose…"
He fingered the scratch on his arm and smeared the few drops of blood across the hollow of my cheek. I glared up at him, still breathing heavily and trapped. That's when I felt it.
I let out a cry and turned to Dennis for help. I saw him pale, against the cavern wall, up to his neck in slithering… and as I looked down, I saw it curled around my ankle.
"Tom…" I'd whimpered weakly, afraid to move… "…Tom…"
I watched as he calmly, almost casually, picked up the snake… almost lovingly, as if he did it every day, and as I looked up to meet his gaze, I realized for the first time how icy his smile was. How… blank his face seemed. The red glint in his eyes returned, and as I slumped back against the wall, I subconsciously noticed that there was no sun to reflect off of it.
I felt more than saw his finger slide under my chin, and as my defiant gaze faltered under his piercing one, I heard, as if from a distance, the sound of Dennis letting out a strangled moan and struggling to stay upright.
"Isn't it beautiful?" I heard Tom murmur, and wondered whether he meant the snake or the view. "…like you…" he continued. "Too beautiful…"
I trembled as he fingered my cheekbones, my eyelids, my lips… and I screamed as he caught me in a painful kiss that seared through me. But I couldn't struggle.
As a fogginess came, I felt the snakes come… under my skin, inside of me, around me… strangling me, hurting me, biting me… making me bleed.
I was only a little girl.
I broke that squeaky clean reputation of theirs. But I know I'm not insane. Those snakes, they aren't illusions. They're real.
The orphanage began to lose business soon after. People stopped coming. Then, one of our own came out of these walls a psychopath. I like to think that I knew it all along.
Yes, we've got a dark past no matter how hard they try to hush it up.
I remember the pain, the fear, the rain. I remember the rocks beneath me biting into my back. I remember crying for a mother I never knew, and I remember Ms. Cole bent over my battered body.
"Tom says nothing happened," she said. "You were all caught in the rain and stumbled back in this sorry state."
I remember screaming as Tom smiled at me with eyes that glinted with red sunlight even when it rained. None of them could make me stop.
I remember that I couldn't tell them the truth because they might take Him away. And I knew that I didn't want that. We had a bond, I think. A blood bond.
But mostly, I remember the rain.
All the other children have now grown up and emerged from the dull, straightforward confines of these walls as disciplined young adults. Most have forgotten about Amy Benson, Dennis Bishop, and Tom Riddle. They closed down the orphanage and left without looking back.
This is an abandoned building, you see. Everything you see… we're merely memories.
Years later, Tom came back for me. Then he got rid of me - cleansed the world of me, just like he had said he would.
Then, he brought me back to that cavern overlooking the sea.
A/N: This is actually my first shot at horror. My beta says it's alright, but… she tells me that it's a bit too dark to be labelled "romance". I dunno…
