Marietta landed roughly on the ground. Tears stained her pale pink cheeks. Her father loomed over her, snarling at her with disdain. Charlie was in the background, desperately trying to break his binds and assist his 8 year old sister. Weakly, Marietta pushed herself up, the agony of her father's curse still immediate in every movement she made. She didn't intend to fight back. She didn't have a wand yet, much less an escape plan.

The worst part of the entire scenario was that it was solely for entertainment. Marietta's father was a Death Eater. Infamous for being ruthless, cold and having a spiraling record of blood on his hands. "Being a Dolohov is an /honor/!" He barked at them, the harsh Russian lilt of his voice sending shivers through Marietta's small body. She looked helplessly at Charlie, whose head was hung low. Black hair hung over his face.

It was not the first time her father had tortured them, but it was, however, the first time she was made a spectacle of. A showcase in which her pain was for the sheer enjoyment of dark wizards and witches. A small rebuttal escaped Marietta's lips. Barely audible as it was, it only infuriated Antonin more. Grabbing her by the hair, he lifted her up, digging his wand into her throat. "You listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a girl. You will do as I say. This is a rather important night for you." He looked into her eyes. They reflected his personality-they were gray and icy. Twisted and sinister. They reminded Marietta of the cold iron gates in winter, the very same gates she would watch children happily pass by. Marietta wasn't allowed past the black iron rungs which held her prisoner. She had perhaps left the confines of the great walls surrounding the mansion once or twice. She was never allowed to know how to play or frolic. She walked her fingers along the black sheen of the metal, sometimes calling out to the children. They would stare. Once they laughed. She didn't know why. She didn't understand the games they played. She would give anything to join them. Her father would always find her and drag her back inside. Mostly he would scold Charlie for not watching her.

Marietta was scared of her father. She would never disobey him, and he knew that. Charlie, on the other hand, was rebellious. He paid little attention to anything he was ordered. He refused to learn Russian, perhaps the one bit of bonding Marietta and her father shared. He differed severely from Marietta, but was still her big brother of only a year's difference. They had different mothers, but they loved each other unconditionally. Charlie was the only person she could count on. Even on the darkest and most nightmarish of days, Charlie was there to comfort her. Sometimes he even made her laugh. Tonight, however, was not an occasion for laughing. Charlie refused to look up from the chair to which he was bound. He would always fight for her. Unsure of why she was forced to fend for herself, Marietta was pulled back to reality by another wave of a dark spell. Shuddering, Marietta nervously tapped her fingers against each other, whimpering quietly. Finally given satisfaction, Antonin put a stiff arm around her, bending down to speak in her ear. "Tonight, you become one of us…" He hissed. "Wh..What do y'mean, father?" Marietta glanced up at him quickly, the cold stare of her father suppressing her gaze back to the marble floors.

Straightening, he extended a hand. "Your left arm, my love." Surprised by the rare term of endearment, she cautiously gave him her hand. Charlie's head snapped up, bright blue eyes filled with horror. "MARI! DON'T DO IT! RUN! NOW! RUN!" He screamed, pulling against the magical ropes which held him to a chair. Marietta wasn't sure what to do. Furious, Antonin shoved Marietta aside. He strode over to Charlie, grabbing him by the jaw. "Do we have a death wish, boy?!" That was the only thing he ever called Charlie. Marietta had never heard her father refer to her brother as anything other then 'boy'. Charlie spat at him, looking straight into his eyes. "Leave her alone, you venomous snake."

Antonin's lethal expression, if anything, quickly grew amused. He refused to have himself made a fool in front of company. To Marietta's surprise, he stood tall once more. "I'll deal with you later…" Turning back to the crowd of dark wizards and witches, he outstretched his arms. "Are we all not here for a reason? Though he is gone, we shall still honor him…" He boomed imperatorially, as if addressing all of Britain. Antonin, as sadistic as he was, had a the gift of being a true orator. With this, he grabbed Marietta harshly by the elbow. "Morsmordre." Antonin whispered. Marietta blinked. Her eyes slowly trailed to the searing pain of her wrist held tight by her father. Black ink swirled around forearm, beneath her skin. It burned, but subtly, in a strange, almost pleasant way. Marietta stared. Charlie was screaming frantically in the background, one of the Dark Wizards in the large sitting room using a silencing charm promptly. The black cloud on her arm churned, resembling a black sea under a dark storm. The ink began to clear. Curves and blotches representing shadows grew more apparent. After what seemed to be an eternity, left on her pale arm was the horrific image of the Dark Mark. The very image of the Dark Lord himself. The skull stared at her, the snake looping around itself. Marietta stuttered. There was so much she didn't understand. The pain was subsiding from the tattoo. The lights flickered in the room, an eerie green glow illuminating the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Hushed murmurs filled her father's manor, a much larger representation of the mark hovering above their heads. The smoky Dark Mark above them matched the one on her arm. Daring to look up, Marietta's eyes met the only person she could call a friend. Octavia stood under the iron clad grip of her own father, Caesareus Selwyn. Octavia was no younger then Marietta, just a week older. Wiry blonde hair wisped around a black capelet. Her head trailed to the floor. Octavia's bony fingers slowly pulled up her own sleeve, revealing the tip of her own mark. Marietta instantly weakened. She began to shake, growing nauseous as she recognized a pool of her own dark blood on the floor. Marietta's blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders as her head fell. She was exhausted. Ache filled her weak body. She collapsed, curling into a ball and shaking.

Charlie was silently mouthing off to Antonin. Tears flowed down his pale face. Antonin could care less. Looking with disgust at his crying children, he kicked at his daughter as if she were a corpse. She didn't move. Too exhausted to care about the pain she expected. Her vision was blurred. Suddenly Charlie was above her, hugging her tight. "It's alright, Mari, we'll be ok.." His voice was distant. He caressed her cheek lovingly with the tips of his fingers. Marietta groaned, lifelessly being held and comforted by her brother. She felt herself moving. Pain was coming from somewhere. It shocked her, and she shuddered violently. She longed for death in that moment. Marietta wished for the sweet choking hand of sleep upon her throat.

Antonin backhanded her hard across the face. Opening her eyes, she saw the room was empty. The sconces that lit the black marble of the great hall were back on. The oriental rug was a hard pillow beneath her head. She was beside the lavish velvet couch. Marietta figured she had passed out cold. Charlie sat beside her, refusing to let go of her hand. Antonin, who was stooped down to hit her, stood tall once more. "Take her back to her room, boy." He turned, heading for his library- a collection of books written only on the understanding of pain and sorrow. "Heal her." Charlie ordered, staring at Antonin. Chuckling, Antonin only paused. With the briefest swish of his wand, he opened a closet door in the hall leading to the great sitting room. Silently, Marietta was sent backwards, coming to crash into a pile of coats and shoes. "Serpensortia…"

There was no need to say the spell. Antonin was a master of silent magic. He knew how to break his daughter. Antonin said it aloud only so he could threaten Marietta with it later. To keep her in his control. Upon his uttering, out of his wand slithered a long black figure. It was hazy at first, but solidified. The snake slowly slid along the marble floor towards her. It was of no particular species, simply a reptile created genuinely for torture. It crept towards the closet, hissing rhythmically. Long and thin. Reddish black markings swirled along its back, forming strange patterns each time it constricted to move. "W-What? P-Please, no! Father?! PLEASE!" She begged to him to call back the creature. Charlie was being restrained by Antonin. "LET HER GO! CALL IT BACK!" Charlie bit his father's hand, drawing blood. Out of quick shock, he released his grip enough for Charlie to duck and dash towards Marietta.

"CRUCIO!" Without a second thought, not that he needed one, Antonin sent the spell towards Charlie. With only a few minor spells, her brother's early-received wand was useless. Charlie fell, screaming. Marietta huddled back in the closet, the snake beginning to coil around her leg. "S-Snake…" She whispered. Marietta had no tears left to cry. She had done nothing wrong. Antonin knew Charlie's weakness. His sister. Marietta was in incomprehensible pain. The world swirled around her. She wanted it all to end. The snake was coiling around her torso, licking at her skin. Marietta remained silent as her father closed the door. He stared at her for a moment. Marietta's seagreen eyes begged him. Still, he shut it. A crack of light allowed her to see. Pulling back, she saw the whitish-blue fangs of the reptile as it struck into the soft skin of her neck…