Exsanguinarium
by Nyx
*
Click. Click. The sound of boot-heels slapping against a stone floor echoes in the chamber. I know they must be mine. Click. Click. Pace by pace, stride by stride, my feet beat out an andante rythym as I circle the pentagon drawn in ivory chalk on the ground. Click. Click.
I can feel the powers rising, the fires at the heart of the world cooling at my will to send precious energy into my hands, the clouds in the sky bursting forth in a deluge of tropical rain and willingly giving their magic to me, the plants and people around me dying and offering up their lifeblood. The world, handing me its lifeblood, a gift. A gift, to its master. I smile, closing my eyes and picturing it, but I step too far and smudge the chalk line. The whiteness of it seems to splatter across the floor, and I rub it out with my toe until only the original line is left. Then I breathe deeply and enter the pentagon.
Standing inside the power magnet, the simple chalk design I have made, is like stepping into Eden. The world seems to snap into focus, into glorious focus, and I can hear the sound of the mouse squeaking and sniffing around in the corner and the mosquito trying to find a way out or a way to food, and I can see every molecule in the stone and wood and metal...
And the power washes over me, then, and I know that it is time. I can feel the warm tides of power pouring into me like blood pours, crimson-black and heavy and with a scent of iron. There is so much, and I must use it now - there's so much, using a little now won't hurt - and pointing a bone-straight, trembling finger at the wall, I let the power flow.
Blood spurts forth from the finger, surprising me and knocking me backwards. It falls to the ground in a pattern, and I know that that is the result of the power; it's not my blood, but someone else's. An innocent's blood. No-one is innocent. The liquid, shining in the candlelight, flows into letters, and the letters group to make a word. Exsanguinarium, an accusing name for this place.
I glance upward again, pushing the power against the rock-solid ground this time. I float upwards powerfully, and just as I am about to hit the ceiling of my exsanguinarium it breaks open. Bursting out into the sky, I scream down to the mortals who might have challenged me once.
"The Lord Voldemort shall rule you all!"
*finis
Disclaimer: Voldie's not mine, he's J.K.'s.
Sequels: Nyx does not do sequels.
Feedback: Gratefully accepted at nyxfics@hotmail.com
Note: Exsanguinarium means a place where blood is extracted.
~Nyx~
the gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day
is crept into the bosom of the sea
-shakespeare, henry VI
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