Blood Red Shadows
Summary: Beauty's in the eyes of the beholder. Harry must see the wickedness within this lovely girl; or else he may find himself seduced by this child of darkness and could fall victim to her bloody curse.
Prologue:
She threw back her head with a vicious cackle as loud as a banshee's scream as she looked over her prey. Her ivory fangs dripped with the vermilion liquid as she kicked aside the body. She would leave it to be found by the wizard authorities who would determine the cause of death as easily as they could count. However, it would be harder to determine who caused the death. Charms and spells would have to be cast to find the murderer and when they did, it would strike fear into their hearts.
"There is a job for you…" the voice echoed in her head. She did not need any jobs; she worked alone. The nerve of him, asking her to assassinate someone just to please him. He was no higher than she was and just as dark. She spat on him. No matter what he said, no matter what he promised or threatened, she would never join him.
Her yellow eyes flashed, ready to fight if necessary as she heard someone behind her approaching. Her underling jumped as she bared her teeth for the third time that night.
"What is it?" she hissed. "Why do you disturb me, mortal?"
"Forgive me, majesty, but the Dark Lord…"
"Is of little importance to me."
"He is of importance to the wizards, majesty. He terrifies your mortal followers."
"Then do my dear mortals wish to take the last step to immortality?" A crooked smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. The poor man sighed with relief.
"Yes, your highness, you are so marvelous, the men will be so happy and honored…" the man fell to his knees as the yellow-eyed beast approached him. He began kissing her feet and she tilted his head up so he could see those unnatural yellow eyes. She gave him a weak smile.
"Dear, dear mortal," she sighed. "You are so unfortunate."
"Unfortunate? Majesty, the men have dreamed of this day since they joined you! Oh majesty, the honor and the wonder it is to—"
The poor man's breath was cut short as, with one hand, the demon dug her long red nails into his skin and twisted his skull, breaking his neck and killing him in an instant. Shaking her head and making a slight, clicking noise with her tongue, she threw the man aside.
"So. My mortal followers fear the Dark Lord and think I will provide them with protection…" she thought to herself out loud. "Well then they are wrong, aren't they?" She directed this question at the man whom she had just murdered. "Anyone coming to me begging for protection out of fear will share a similar fate as you, my dear mortal companion. I respect bravery and it was one of the only things I do respect."
"Then you should respect the boy." She whipped around at lightning speed and her yellow eyes flashed again with anger as she bared her fangs and hissed at the man before her.
"I told you to leave this castle!" she screamed with fury. The man gave a weak smile and approached her. He caressed her cheek tenderly. To her own surprise, she didn't turn and snap his neck like she would to any other man who dare touch her that way.
"I decided to stay on my own account. Kill me if you wish, though even you will find that a difficult task, Layla." She bent back her head as Lord Voldemort brushed her long, straight silver hair away from her neck as he kissed it softly. She suddenly moved away as if she just realized what he was doing.
"You vile creature!" she cried. Voldemort looked down at the floor and shook his head with a slight smile.
"Creature? I wouldn't be talking, Layla. I'm more human than you are."
"What makes you believe you're human at all?" She returned. He didn't answer.
"I have a job for you."
"No."
"You will take it."
"No."
"Layla…" Voldemort sighed the name. He felt as if he were speaking to a stubborn child. Little did he know, what was exactly how she saw him too. "I have killed the mortals in this castle—"
"The others are the ones that matter to me most!" She screamed. Voldemort dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.
"—And I have killed your precious children." Layla screamed in frustrated fury.
"You BASTARD!" she screamed.
"There is nothing left for you hear. My Death Eaters are waiting outside."
"You will never have absolute power, Tom Riddle!" Layla spat.
"You would be surprised. Follow my orders and you will not be harmed."
"You cannot harm me."
"Me alone, possibly not. But I have many Death Eaters behind me."
"Mere mortals."
"Over one hundred mere mortals can destroy a three-hundred-year-old vampyre." Layla was silent. He was forcing her to do this job. It must be really important to him. She tilted her head.
"And what do I get for doing this job of yours?" she asked.
"Your life."
"That's all?"
"And my respect. You can be my queen, Layla. But if not, I will never bother you again."
"I can kill anyone I want?"
"As long as you get to the boy and leave him to me. Do we have a deal?" The vampyre looked at the outstretched hand for a long time before she finally took it.
And that's how the pact was made.
Summary: Beauty's in the eyes of the beholder. Harry must see the wickedness within this lovely girl; or else he may find himself seduced by this child of darkness and could fall victim to her bloody curse.
Prologue:
She threw back her head with a vicious cackle as loud as a banshee's scream as she looked over her prey. Her ivory fangs dripped with the vermilion liquid as she kicked aside the body. She would leave it to be found by the wizard authorities who would determine the cause of death as easily as they could count. However, it would be harder to determine who caused the death. Charms and spells would have to be cast to find the murderer and when they did, it would strike fear into their hearts.
"There is a job for you…" the voice echoed in her head. She did not need any jobs; she worked alone. The nerve of him, asking her to assassinate someone just to please him. He was no higher than she was and just as dark. She spat on him. No matter what he said, no matter what he promised or threatened, she would never join him.
Her yellow eyes flashed, ready to fight if necessary as she heard someone behind her approaching. Her underling jumped as she bared her teeth for the third time that night.
"What is it?" she hissed. "Why do you disturb me, mortal?"
"Forgive me, majesty, but the Dark Lord…"
"Is of little importance to me."
"He is of importance to the wizards, majesty. He terrifies your mortal followers."
"Then do my dear mortals wish to take the last step to immortality?" A crooked smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. The poor man sighed with relief.
"Yes, your highness, you are so marvelous, the men will be so happy and honored…" the man fell to his knees as the yellow-eyed beast approached him. He began kissing her feet and she tilted his head up so he could see those unnatural yellow eyes. She gave him a weak smile.
"Dear, dear mortal," she sighed. "You are so unfortunate."
"Unfortunate? Majesty, the men have dreamed of this day since they joined you! Oh majesty, the honor and the wonder it is to—"
The poor man's breath was cut short as, with one hand, the demon dug her long red nails into his skin and twisted his skull, breaking his neck and killing him in an instant. Shaking her head and making a slight, clicking noise with her tongue, she threw the man aside.
"So. My mortal followers fear the Dark Lord and think I will provide them with protection…" she thought to herself out loud. "Well then they are wrong, aren't they?" She directed this question at the man whom she had just murdered. "Anyone coming to me begging for protection out of fear will share a similar fate as you, my dear mortal companion. I respect bravery and it was one of the only things I do respect."
"Then you should respect the boy." She whipped around at lightning speed and her yellow eyes flashed again with anger as she bared her fangs and hissed at the man before her.
"I told you to leave this castle!" she screamed with fury. The man gave a weak smile and approached her. He caressed her cheek tenderly. To her own surprise, she didn't turn and snap his neck like she would to any other man who dare touch her that way.
"I decided to stay on my own account. Kill me if you wish, though even you will find that a difficult task, Layla." She bent back her head as Lord Voldemort brushed her long, straight silver hair away from her neck as he kissed it softly. She suddenly moved away as if she just realized what he was doing.
"You vile creature!" she cried. Voldemort looked down at the floor and shook his head with a slight smile.
"Creature? I wouldn't be talking, Layla. I'm more human than you are."
"What makes you believe you're human at all?" She returned. He didn't answer.
"I have a job for you."
"No."
"You will take it."
"No."
"Layla…" Voldemort sighed the name. He felt as if he were speaking to a stubborn child. Little did he know, what was exactly how she saw him too. "I have killed the mortals in this castle—"
"The others are the ones that matter to me most!" She screamed. Voldemort dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.
"—And I have killed your precious children." Layla screamed in frustrated fury.
"You BASTARD!" she screamed.
"There is nothing left for you hear. My Death Eaters are waiting outside."
"You will never have absolute power, Tom Riddle!" Layla spat.
"You would be surprised. Follow my orders and you will not be harmed."
"You cannot harm me."
"Me alone, possibly not. But I have many Death Eaters behind me."
"Mere mortals."
"Over one hundred mere mortals can destroy a three-hundred-year-old vampyre." Layla was silent. He was forcing her to do this job. It must be really important to him. She tilted her head.
"And what do I get for doing this job of yours?" she asked.
"Your life."
"That's all?"
"And my respect. You can be my queen, Layla. But if not, I will never bother you again."
"I can kill anyone I want?"
"As long as you get to the boy and leave him to me. Do we have a deal?" The vampyre looked at the outstretched hand for a long time before she finally took it.
And that's how the pact was made.
