Haunted
A/N : I've been on this site for some time, but it's my first time posting anything. It's basically about Bellatrix while she's in Azkaban, and she hallucinates that Voldemort has come back for her, when it's actually the dementaurs making her miserable by showing her what she wants most than taking it away. I haven't read the book in a while, so it might have mistakes-forgive me if it does. It would be amazing if you leavea review. :)
She's beautiful, a dark force that collides against the sharp silver metal, intake of breath as if the coldness has burned her. Her gasps line the ragged edges of the black dress ripped dangerously around her thighs. She looks around, dark, sunken eyes that used to glitter like stars scattered across the night sky, now dulled into a soft grey, and lets out a scream of laughter because she's forgotten how to cry.
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They make their way to her like even they're afraid of her wavering eyes, her laugh that just isn't human anymore, they make their way to her slower than usual, and slow causes pain, she is a being of pain. Bellatrix, something whispers to her, tugging at the edges of her dress, something soft, liquid, acidly cold drags along the low-cut neckline of her dress and she knows who those lips belongs to and it's all a lost cause from there, oh, Bella, it moans. I've missed you. I've come back for you. The scar on her arm burns inside of her.
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They're creatures without souls, people say. They are darkness that flies without wings, no faces, just dark, dark smoke and a kiss that takes everything away.
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You're not really here, she tries to say but her voice won't come out and it's as if something's suffocating her. She scrambles to her feet, brushes locks of midnight black curls away from her eyes and the look in them are almost vulnerable as she mouths them instead, you came back, you're alive, you came back. No answer greets her, and a cold twists her insides if she has any, her head hurts as her rushed whispers hit the bars, splitting the air in shards like glass, and they come back to her and draws blood, she clutches the bars and tries to stand up only to collapse back down, crumpled to the ground. Answer me, please, answer me.
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Crucio.
The word fell from her lips as casually, as softly as the first drop of rain when you're walking and you first realize it's raining, and it drops onto the your hands and hair and seeps through your shoes right before it starts to pour. Well she was doing that now, her words like drops of rain, at first quiet and deadly but the melodies wove themselves into something more as her screams get louder and they were like two little dolls at her mercy.
Alice and Frank, faces contorted into a look that slowly but surely lost what it once had, its focus, its light, screams weaving together excited her, pulsed through her veins, her wand shaking a little from the sweat, she gripped it tighter as she sang it out, Crucio, Crucio, oh god, yes, Crucio, and it made her feel alive, powerful. Real.
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Take me with you, she breathes, swallows the lump in her throat and strokes the air where she feels him, at first careful, almost loving strokes, then clawing at the air desperately, throat scratchy, she can feel him, he's here. Please, take me with you, I can't stay here much longer you don't know what they do to me, please my Lord, please. Her eyes are damp and bloodshot as she tangles her fingers in her hair, brushing them away from her face as if she could see him if she did, she feels something icy cold, like fingers, lifting up her chin. Look at me, Bella, look at me. She shivers, she can smell his scent of snow, dust and death, yes, my Lord, yes, of course. Then there's his laugh, he laughs.
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A crowd of them accumulates like a rain cloud just before a thunderstorm, and more and more, circling around the dirty cell like vultures around her.
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You know I can't, he says and he's still laughing, a blood chilling sound and the coldness of his fingers leaving her chin and his presence begins to ebb away a little at a time like it's blood draining out of her veins, she screams and laughs again and again, she screams and laughs, no you can't go please don't go you're not going to leave me here please, but he's gone he's gone and she's left with his heart pounding in her head, drowning out all other thought. No, she screams like it will bring him back, no.
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She's almost dead, her shadow falling across the cell, her eyes are closed but her eyelashes flutter occasionally like nervous bats, feels his hunger for her like a mirage, sees his eyes boring into her, but she knows when she opens her eyes he won't be there.
So she doesn't.
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Her shadow falls across the cell to another man who hears of her calls, for someone other than him, her desperate calls.
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He's the only one who still thinks her beautiful.