Tom Riddle walked through the Chamber of Secrets, taking in the echo of his footsteps. He had spent many sleepless nights down there, working hard to create his first horcrux. He had searched far and wide for the information, but it wasn't until last summer that he had found what he needed. Befriending Abraxas Malfoy had led to an invite to the Malfoy estate for a midsummer's eve party. Once he had the chance, he slipped away into the library with directions from the Malfoy scion. A quick perusal through their more private collection had yielded what he needed.
Now his preparations were complete. He entered a side chamber within the Chamber of Secrets that contained several bookshelves and a table. A simple leather-bound book sat, waiting for its purpose to be fulfilled. Tom picked up the journal, admiring his spellwork. The magic tugged at some deep part of him, sending shivers of anticipation up his back.
Returning to the main room, Tom faced the bust of Salazar Slytherin. For a moment, he wondered how egotistical his ancestor was to carve a giant self-portrait, before admitting that he also wanted a giant statue of himself somewhere. The Ministry of Magic would be a good spot to put it.
"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four!" hissed Tom. The mouth slowly opened and from the darkness slithered the King of Serpents. The great snake curled around Tom, leaving him some room to move.
"You ssssummon me, massster?" the basilisk asked. "Issss it time for sssSalah to hunt?"
"Yes," replied Tom. "It is time to hunt the Mudbloods."
/\/\/\/\
The sinks in the girl's bathroom silently moved to reveal a gaping hole. Tom Riddle rose from it, his eyes burning with excitement. He hopped off the basilisk and began to head towards the exit. The sound of quiet sniffling and crying made him freeze in his tracks. He observed the stalls and found one closed. His pulse quickened and his breathing shortened as he recognized the that was voice muttering to itself. It belonged to a Muggle-born student - Myrtle something. Tom strode forward, with Salah gliding beside him. Clutching his soul container, he stopped at the closed stall door.
"Hello?" the voice asked. "Is anyone there?"
Riddle smiled. It was definitely the mudblood Myrtle. "Salah. Kill."
The great serpent reared back, exposing its fangs and opening the second eyelid that protected him from its deadly gaze.
Tom, wand in one hand and enchanted journal in the other, watched the door open. Myrtle looked up, straight into Salah's yellow eyes. Her fear and sadness fled from her face as her body relaxed. She slumped to the ground expressionless, empty eyes staring at Tom.
Tom looked at her body, then at his journal. His pulse pounded in his ears as he gripped his soul container with white knuckles. Something should have happened. All the texts said the best way to split one's soul was an act of murder. Perhaps it wasn't personal enough? Maybe he had to cast a spell instead of ordering the death?
His frantic thoughts screeched to a halt as his body froze up and his mind blanked.
/\/\/\/\
Pain.
His world was pain.
Fire burned through his muscles.
Ice tore at his skin.
Electricity skittered over his nerves.
He was being split in half.
The books had mentioned it would be painful. They didn't say it would be this intense.
Inside him, something broke.
A small rip became a tear.
The tear became a gash.
The gash broke off completely, taking part of him with it.
/\/\/\/\
Tom Riddle came back to consciousness on the cold stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets. His vision was blurry, and his head pounded. A thin layer of sweat still covered his skin. His limbs shook slightly as he sat up. He groaned as his sore muscles twinged.
"Massster is alive?"
The large form of Salah came into focus, curling protectively around him. Taking deep breaths, Tom checked himself over. His wand and the Horcrux lay next to him.
"You brought me down here?" hissed Riddle, pocketing his wand and picking up the journal.
He missed Salah's reply as he focused on the Horcrux. The magic had taken hold, and he could feel it. Part of his soul now resided inside the journal. Death no longer had a claim on him.
He relaxed, relieved that all his hard work had paid off. Leaning back against Salah's warm scales, he thought back over the dark texts. All of them had assumed that the reader would only create one Horcrux. Such a dangerous and painful process should only be attempted once - that was their reasoning.
Riddle had no such qualms. There was power in numbers, and magic increased exponentially with each prime number. Three Horcruxes wouldn't be enough to ensure his immortality. Thirteen was more than even he was willing to make. Seven seemed to be his lucky number.
Checking the time, he realized he had spent most of the night in the Chamber of Secrets. It was almost time for breakfast.
"Salah, return to your nest," Tom said. The basilisk flicked him with its tongue before returning to the inside of Salazars bust.
Tom shook his head as he hobbled towards the side room. He couldn't take his Horcrux with him, so he placed it on the table. Casting several spells ensured it couldn't be moved, even if someone made their way down here.
He wiped the sweat from his skin and cleaned the grime off his clothes with a spell. Finally presentable, he made his way to breakfast.
/\/\/\/\
Riddle hurried down the corridor. Breakfast had been delicious, in fantastic contrast to the pain of the previous night. Until Headmaster Dippet had announced that there had been a murder, and that if the killer was not found, the school would be closed. His pace quickened and he gripped his wand tightly, anger and panic coursing through him at the thought of Hogwarts closing. This was his home, and now they were trying to take it away.
It was only a stupid Mudblood, who cared if she died? Still, he had a plan. All he had to do was to find that half-giant oaf. Then he would move his Horcrux somewhere safer.
A/N
House: Ravenclaw
Year: Second
Category: Standard
Prompt: Tom Riddle Era
Word Count: 1052