Title: The Truth In A Name
Author: Narkyze
Fandom: Harry Potter
Wordcount: 673
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): None.
Warning(s): Mentions of Mental Illness. Description of murder.
Prompt(s): Psychopathic
Notes: Written for writerverse livejournal Challenge #34: Mind Your P's and Q's.
Summary: Tom Riddle contemplates his future.

Tom Riddle had been called many things in his relatively short life. Crazy. Sadistic. And even psychopathic.

Not that he minded, of course. Names were just that, and he could let them slide off his back like rainwater.

It was a skill that not many possessed, and he was proud to have it.

Yes, if Tom had to choose one of the muggle sins to describe himself, it would definitely be pride. And why not? He had much to be proud of.

The fifth year smirked as he stroked the head of his newest pet, the sixty foot Basilisk who resided in the Chamber of Secrets. She didn't have a name, not a proper one. He called her sweetling and darling and the like. Not very dignified, but he felt a sort of affection for the great serpent that he had never felt for another before.

She was his pet, his tool, and more importantly, he servant. She called him master, and Merlin if he hadn't felt a rush at that. It was better than sex, in his not-so-humble opinion. That blatant affirmation of his superiority gave him a high like nothing else. And that was coming from a Basilisk.

He couldn't imagine what it would sound like coming from the lips of a human.

The very idea gave Tom shivers, and a smirk appeared on his handsome face. Though he had played with the idea of not only having followers, but servants, before, for the first time it seemed not only plausible but desirable. Tom had always pictured himself as a loner, making no friends but only political connections, and working his way up through the Ministry of Magic until he was at a position to enact change.

But... maybe that wasn't the best route.

Tom had been watching Grindelwald's campaign eagerly, following the Dark Lord's every move. Perhaps it was his pride at work, but he couldn't help but think that he could do better, eventually, that is. He could easily point out many of the man's flaws both in strategy and ideology, and if a fifteen year old could do that, anyone could.

Shaking his head, Tom pocketed the blank journal that was on his lap. He had bought it that summer, and had his name engraved on it, with only one purpose in mind.

Though he had yet to try the killing curse, knowing that the use of unforgivables on Hogwarts ground would be easily detected by the Headmaster, he had another way to kill, a better way. And that girl, Myrtle, was always crying in his bathroom. He wouldn't even have to go far.

True, he didn't hold any particular hate for the girl, but if what he had researched was true, that would only make the spell more potent. A murder with no emotion, killing for the sake of it, death for no reason other than to fuel the spell, would be more powerful than a murder fueled by hate and thoughts of revenge.

"Come along, beautiful." he hissed, and the Basilisk followed him to the entrance of the Chamber. A quick levitating spell later, and he was leading the serpent up to the top, where he opened the door with a quick word, and stepped out onto the tiled floor.

"Hello?" he heard the girl call out.

Turning to his basilisk, he spoke. "Kill her."

As the girl opened the door to the stall, and made eye contact with the great serpent, she died.

And Tom felt a powerful surge of magic enter his body, and then pain, greater than he had ever felt, so strong that he couldn't force himself to scream, filled him.

He collapsed on the floor, panting. He didn't know how long he lay there, eyes closed and fingers digging into his palms. When he regained the strength to move, he sat up, looking at the diary. He could feel it, feel the familiar magic in it.

Tom laughed. He laugh hard and long, almost hysterically.

Lord Voldemort had created a horcrux.