Challenge Fifteen for His Most Faithful to write a story with unusual metaphors. As predictable, I present another bellamort drabble. I imagine it is when Bellatrix first meets Voldemort.
Bellatrix fell into a tight hold. Ensnared by as many hands as an acromantula, she could not escape, but not for a moment did she try to push away from the hands.
She could not move away.
The basilisk captivated her. She was petrified. Her eyes could not stare anywhere, but into blood- shot eyes.
She could not look away.
The musical sound of phoenix song filled her ears. Every part of her strained and savoured the sound of the cool voice.
She could not stop listening.
Bellatrix Black was hooked.
She could never leave.
She did not want to.