From Dust to Dust
Written by Chibikan
Summary: After all that he had done to escape death, the Dark Lord finds out that he will soon die anyway. And his killer is not to be Dumbledore, or the Order of the Phoenix, or the Ministry, or even Harry Potter. His killer is silent, swift, and worst of all, unstoppable, at least in this case. His killer is, ironically, a brain tumor, large and malignant, situated on his brain stem, making it impossible to remove. What will he do now?
Author's Note: I have very little knowledge of how chemotherapy works. If someone who does know, could please email me that information, I would be most unappreciative. Thanks.
Prologue
"INCOMPETENT FOOLS!" Voldemort shouted at the top of his lungs. "I practically gift-wrapped those brats for you!" He had every right to be angry, of course. His men had failed him, again and miserably. The Potter boy had once again gotten the better of him, had utterly humiliated him in front of the minister and his lackeys. He'd lost the prophecy. And to make matter worse, he had a headache throbbing right behind his eyes, or at least it felt like it. "I entrusted you with a mission! A mission of great importance and you BUNGLED IT! Even you Bella! I never thought I'd see the day when you'd fail me so!"
Bellatrix daringly stepped forward, "M…my Lord, it wasn't a total failure. I managed to kill that blood traitor, Sirius Black."
Voldemort stepped forward, pitching ever so slightly, and jabbed his wand at her, "CRUCIO!!" he ignored her agonizing screams, "Against my direct orders! I wanted to turn Black and his werewolf to the Death Eaters! You disobeyed me, Bellatrix LeStrange!"
As he punished her, he fought the desire to clutch his head and rip it right off. The pain was getting worse. He was forced to release the curse a mere two minutes after casting. It was too debilitating for him. He opened his mouth to berate her further, but was hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. Absently, he reached over to grasp the sleeve of Wormtail's cloak (he was closest).
Wormtail looked over and was alarmed to see how much paler than normal the Dark Lord was. "Master, are you alright?"
He received no answer as the Dark Lord sank to his knees. Voldemort simply could not hold himself up any longer. Blast his pride, he thought, finally giving into the blessed darkness that unconsciousness provided him. He was then only vaguely aware of the cries of his followers and their footsteps racing to him.
Author's Notes: Well, what do you think so far? Do I have your attention?