This is, first and foremost, written for Ariana Waters to prove that a) I'm insane, and b) Never challenge me to do something unless you mean it. It's a long story, but the short version is that she insinuated that I couldn't do it... I, here, have a fifty prompt story. Right Now. You Are Reading It.

Boom Baby.

(I'm also so sleep deprived someone help me)

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The musical quote this is inspired by (and the quote is also used as dialogue) is: "Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it takes and it takes and it takes." —Hamilton (Given to me by MoonytheMarauder1)

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This was also written for the Hunger Games, round 3. Here are my prompts:

(word) Haven

(emotion) Guilt

(dialogue) "It's the end of the world as we know it."

(character) Regulus Black

(pairing) James and Lily

(weapon) Fire

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All prompts are listed at the bottom of this fic. Including the two sources above, I have prompts from the Hogwarts (I'm a Slytherin) Writing Club, and three close friends.

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Warnings: Dark. Very dark. Blood. Death. Murder. Swearing... Psychopathic tendencies? The genre is a cross between horror, tragedy, and angst? Hopefully that gives you an idea of how this is..

Rating: M

Word Count (excluding A/N): 4390

Build Yourself A New World

"Do you have to go?" Marlene asked Regulus, her eyes frantically scanning his features, looking for anything that told her he was staying—she couldn't find anything.

"You know I do," Regulus replied with a sigh before pulling his girlfriend into a hug. "I wish there was another way, but there isn't. This has to be done."

"And you can't tell me what you are doing?"

"You know I can't, Lena."

Marlene was quiet for a moment, and Regulus took the opportunity to breathe her in. She smelled sweet; it was cruel.

"Is this goodbye?" Her voice was timid, almost soft enough for Regulus to miss.

"I… I think so," he replied. "But, Lena… Death is not the end. It might not be in this world, but I will see you again."

She simply squeezed him tighter. He felt a vague dampness on his shirt, but he didn't move to wipe at her tears; he wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her beautiful face scrunched up in sadness, nor the fear that was bound to be in her perfect green eyes.

Their relationship had been hard from the very beginning—he was a Slytherin, destined to work for the Dark Lord, and she was an innocent, a Gryffindor, who didn't understand just how deep Regulus had been forced into the wrong side of the war.

They'd had to sneak around, and he was glad that she understood; it would not have been good for Regulus if his fellow Slytherins had found out he was dating someone from the side of the saints.

After they had been dating a year, Marlene graduated, and their communication was quickly limited to letters and brief trips to Hogsmeade, where they only met in the shadows.

Things had gotten easier when Regulus graduated from Hogwarts two years later. They could finally live together in peace. He kept it a secret that the Dark Lord was his boss, and she never pried when he came home late, injured with tears in his eyes. She just held him, and he loved her for it.

Now their peace would be interrupted, stopped for good.

...

It was sundown when he set out for the cave, taking Kreacher with him. He knew he should have felt some sort of anxiety, perhaps even overwhelming fear, but he just felt numb. Was this what it felt like to be brave? Or was this just him submitting to what he couldn't control?

He felt almost sedated as he lit up his wand, adding shadows to the walls of the cave, and for the briefest of moments, he wished that he had brought Marlene with him so she could save him from what he knew was to come. However, that thought passed quickly. This was something he had to do alone, lest he put her in unnecessary danger.

When he and Kreacher stepped onto the island, a spark of fear finally twisted in his chest. His eyes carefully surveyed the basin in the center that let off a slightly green hue, and he gripped his wand tighter.

"Master Regulus," Kreacher whispered, eyes wide. "Let me drink the potion. Let me—"

"Alright," Regulus interrupted, feeling immediate guilt pool in his stomach. Kreacher looked surprised, but, ultimately, relieved.

"Thank you, Master Regulus," the house-elf croaked, and Regulus had to close his eyes. What had he just agreed to? Why had he just agreed to it?

Pushing past his guilt, Regulus pulled two items out of his pockets: a replica of Slytherin's locket, and a potion with a thick paste at the bottom of the bottle—a replacement for the basin. The potion had been hell to make and perfect, but it would be even harder to get it into the basin after Regulus switched out the lockets without upsetting the settlement at the bottom.

"Are you ready, Master Regulus?" Kreacher asked, his thin shoulders shaking. Regulus nodded, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood when the house-elf began to drink and became visibly affected by the potion by the third gulp.

Soon, Kreacher's screams were almost too much for Regulus to handle, but he still helped to pour goblet full after goblet full of the offending potion down Kreacher's throat. After what seemed like forever, the basin was empty, and Regulus was free to grab the locket—the horcrux. He quickly deposited the replica locket in the basin and began to decanter the potion on top of it, barely emptying the bottle before Kreacher collapsed.

Had he been thinking properly, Regulus wouldn't have rushed to plunge the goblet into the lake, hoping water would help his house-elf, but panic dictated his actions. The water didn't help Kreacher, and there were things crawling out of the water, which Regulus instinctively identified as infari.

In his panic, and the flames he created to fight off the infari, Regulus left Kreacher's body to be burned.

...

Regulus was afraid that if he went back to his and Marlene's flat, the Dark Lord would hurt her, and he couldn't go back to work for the Dark Lord—he was afraid that Voldemort would be able to sense that a piece of his soul had been in contact with Regulus.

So he stayed away from the two things he knew and chased something he didn't know, but understood to be safe: James and Lily.

Together, the three of them, along with Dumbledore, figured out a way to transfer his Dark Mark to another creature. The rat they pawned the mark off on didn't make it through the the casting, and Regulus was left with a faded scar on his left forearm, his connection to Voldemort completely severed.

He had been pronounced dead within a week of the cave incident, and James and Lily's home quickly became a haven for him, a place of safety where he was allowed to live. When they went under the Fidelius Charm, Regulus went with them.

"It's the end of the world as we know it," James had said jokingly on the first night the charm was in place. His eyes had been sad, Lily's laugh had been empty, and Regulus had remained silent.

He should have been happy to be alive, grateful that James and Lily had taken him in, but his heart quickly turned bitter. James and Lily had each other; Marlene thought he was dead.

Sure, it might be keeping her safe, but resentment towards his protectors took over his mind, and his safe haven slowly turned into a prison.

...

Regulus was, embarrassingly enough, in the backyard retrieving Harry's dummy, which the child had thrown out the window, when Voldemort showed up.

He heard James shout, but by the time he had made it inside the house, James was lying in a lifeless heap at the bottom of the staircase. He knew he should have felt something when he saw that his 'friend' was dead, but no emotions came. Nor did they appear when he heard Lily scream, begging Voldemort to spare her son.

Out of instinct rather than sentiment, Regulus ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, but he knew he was too late when there was a flash of green light and a heavy thud. Once again, he felt nothing.

Harry was screaming when, at last, Regulus pushed into the room, satisfaction spreading through his veins when he saw the look of confusion that spread across Voldemort's face.

"You're supposed to be dead," Voldemort breathed, his brown eyes shifting from confusion, to recognition, to betrayal.

"Obviously I'm not," he said, finally feeling confident for the first time in a long time, despite the fact that he was face to face with a murderer.

"Why are you here?" Voldemort asked, turning completely away from Harry and towards Regulus. The younger wizard could almost see how strangely comfortable in his presence Voldemort was, and he wondered if it was maybe because the Dark Lord could feel his soul, on a subconscious level, in Regulus's pocket where he kept Slytherin's locket.

"Because I wanted to see your happy face." Regulus almost laughed at the expression of anger that danced over Voldemort's features. Being antagonizing after well over a year of playing domestics with the Potters was quite entertaining.

"Look at me. I'm not smiling," Voldemort said, and Regulus got the impression that it was his fault that Voldemort was unhappy—that the Dark Lord had recognized his disobedience and was giving him what could be his form of disappointment. It was amusing.

Regulus let out a light laugh. "You will be once you kill the boy, will you not?" he asked, gesturing to the still screaming boy.

Voldemort gave Regulus an empty grin. "Of course. I will be unstoppable."

"You know, Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it takes and it takes and it takes, and the fact that you are trying to avoid it, to remain permanent, just makes you a larger target," Regulus said. He was surprised that Voldemort hadn't attacked him by now, but he figured that the Dark Lord was intrigued.

Curiosity kills kittens. Regulus smirked. "You, my Lord, are meant to be temporary, just like all of us."

"Be quiet," Voldemort growled, turning back towards a crying Harry and raising his wand. "You're starting to annoy me. Wait silently until I have time to deal with you."

"Why don't you just kill me, my Lord?" Regulus asked, his voice low and his tone mocking. He saw Voldemort's shoulders stiffen, but the man didn't turn around.

"In due time," Voldemort said calmly, raising his wand towards Harry once more. "I have… more important matters to worry myself with at the moment."

Regulus scoffed—Voldemort obviously didn't see him as a threat, and that would be his biggest mistake.

Slowly, Regulus pulled Slytherin's locket out of his pocket, having gotten into the habit of carrying the thing around with him constantly when he couldn't figure out how to destroy it, and he leveled his wand at it. Quietly, still watching Voldemort's back with glinting eyes, he whispered the killing curse.

The scream that came from Voldemort rivaled the one that came from the locket, both sounds drowning out Harry's cries, and the chaos made Regulus grin. The Dark Lord had fallen to his knees—in front of Regulus.

After a while, with Voldemort on the ground and Regulus silently thanking the gods that the killing curse had worked, the Fallen Dark Lord turned to Regulus, his skin a few shades paler than usual. "You… You are—"

"Beautiful? A Genius? Immensely talented?" Regulus joked, mirth in his eyes.

"Dangerous," Voldemort whispered, eyes wide. Regulus's smirk grew.

"You sound surprised," Regulus taunted. Wordlessly, he bound Voldemort in ropes, feeling almost giddy when he saw the fear in the man's eyes as he flicked his wand, forcing Voldemort flat on his back. It had been so long since he had felt anything other than the boredom of being stuck with the Potter's and the resentment of being without Marlene—his dear sweet Lena that was far too innocent for a world that created a monster like Voldemort.

"That wasn't my only one," Voldemort said, panic evident in his voice. "You can't kill me, not for good."

"It doesn't matter," Regulus replied, his head cocked to the side, Harry's cries really starting to annoy him. Lazily waving his wand, he put a silencing spell over the crib, letting out a breath of relief before turning his attention back to Voldemort. "You see, with your physical being out of the way, I can step in. And, under my rule, no one will have the slightest desire to bring you back."

"Fuck you," Voldemort snarled, his eyes flashing, and Regulus rolled his eyes before muttering a dark curse, barely even blinking when the Fallen Dark Lord let out a howl of pain, blood gushing from the gash that appeared on his chest.

"For so long I pretended to be good, to be one of the innocents, but now—with you out of the way—I can be whatever the fuck I want to be. I get to turn this sorry excuse of a life I've been living; I get to rewrite my story," Regulus explained, his voice soft before flicking his wand again. This time, it was the muscle of Voldemort's right thigh that was severed.

"Was… Was that supposed to hurt?" Voldemort stammered in a desperate attempt to appear powerful. Between the soft whimpers pushing past his lips, the sweat dripping down his brow, and the pain in his eyes, Regulus wasn't impressed.

"Don't try to act brave. It's so typical and doesn't suit you," he replied, almost sounding bored as he gently kicked Voldemort's right foot, prompting a yelp from the wizard as blood began to flow out of his thigh at an increased rate.

"Tell me," Regulus said as he walked a little closer to Voldemort, squatting down beside him, gently touching his chest and coating his fingers in the Fallen Dark Lord's blood. "Do you feel cold yet?"

Voldemort didn't reply, just stared at Regulus with hatred in his eyes, prompting the younger wizard to chuckle.

"That's fine," Regulus said with a soft smile. "Don't answer. But, know this."

Regulus raised his wand, leveling it at Voldemort's throat. "Now your world is mine."

…

No one was sure whether or not to rejoice the fall of Voldemort, or to panic at the rise of a new threat. Only Dumbledore and the remaining marauders knew that Regulus was alive, so he set off to make quick work of them, finding Peter Pettigrew first.

"I don't know what you want from me," the young man whimpered, his eyes wide when Regulus had found and entered his hideout. "A servant? I could serve you. It would be my pleasure," he groveled.

It was disgusting.

While Regulus might not have minded a servant, he already knew Pettigrew to be disloyal, as he had been the secret keepers for the Potter's. So, he killed him just as slowly as he had killed Voldemort, relishing in the way the wizard screamed and begged for his life.

He found Dumbledore next. It wasn't hard; the old man never seemed to leave Hogwarts, so it was no surprise that when he apparated outside the front gates, he was quickly met by the headmaster, who had his trademark twinkle in his eye.

"I must say that I am surprised to see you here, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said kindly as he led Regulus through the halls he had traveled only a few years ago as a student. Regulus had once thought of the halls as a home safer than the one he grew up in; now he found the long corridors to be quite tiresome, keeping him from the goal he wished to achieve that night.

Regulus hummed softly, his eyes never once leaving Dumbledore's form. "I have urgent business to… settle with you," he said politely in return.

"Is there something you wish to discuss?" There was a curiosity in Dumbledore's voice that had Regulus rolling his eyes.

"Not discuss, headmaster," he corrected, his words clipped subtly in annoyance. "However, I would prefer it if we dealt with this matter behind closed doors."

"Of course," Dumbledore responded, sounding both dejected and interested all at once. He settled into silence for the rest of the walk, only looking back at Regulus when he led him into his office.

He sat down slowly, placing his elbows on the table and looking at Regulus over steepled fingertips. "Have a seat," he offered; Regulus shook his head.

"I assume you know what I have done," Regulus said calmly, declining an offered lemon drop with a slight wave of his hand. "And I assume you have figured out what I am going to do."

"Assumptions are a dangerous thing, Mr. Black," Dumbledore told him, a cautious smile on his lips. "You should not take the Potters' death too harshly. I must tell you that there is more than one way out, if at the end of the day you're at the end of your rope."

Regulus chuckled darkly. It seemed as if Dumbledore either misunderstood his intentions or was purposefully talking Regulus into another situation in order to change his mind for him. "That's a nice idiom, headmaster," he said, almost politely. "My current favorite is: you can't always control who walks into your life… but you can control which window you throw them out of." His tone was light, almost humorous. "Funny how they both relate to choice, eh?"

Dumbledore's smile slowly slipped from its place on his lips. "Which window do you intend to throw me out of, Mr. Black?" he asked, his voice unwavering. So, Dumbledore had understood his intentions after all. Regulus liked how he didn't immediately beg—he really hoped Dumbledore wouldn't beg at all.

"Not out a window, sir. I'd rather you bleed out atop your desk," he replied, quite amused by the whole situation.

His amusement, however, disappeared when Dumbledore reached for his wand.

Sighing, he waved his wand, and Dumbledore's wrists were bound to his chair, his wand now lying useless on the floor. He received the same treatment as Voldemort and Pettigrew, but he didn't scream, nor did he beg; he merely whimpered.

It was satisfying to watch such a strong man die such a strong death.

Out of everyone he was setting out to find, the one he wanted to join him the most was Remus. The werewolf had phenomenal power, and an even more brilliant mind—besides, Regulus had always had a sort of soft spot for him. Besides, if he could convince Remus to join him, he could probably convince Sirius as well; a love for Remus seemed to run in the family.

"Siri, about damn time you showed up. I've been waiting all day," Remus said as Regulus entered his bedroom, his eyes scanning the room before landing on the form in the bed. The werewolf only looked up from his book when 'Siri' didn't reply.

"Regulus?" he said, almost gasping the name. Regulus cocked his head to the side before casually walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge within touching distance of Remus.

"Hi Remus," Regulus said, sounding almost like a normal nineteen-year-old. He even smiled, not his commonplace, dark grin, but a genuine smile.

"Three people are dead, the only correlation between the murders is that each victim knew that you are alive," Remus stated, his eyes boring into Regulus's, and the younger wizard felt his smile grow.

"I love your brain," Regulus said simply, watching Remus closely. He had formed a bit of a friendship with the werewolf over the course of the last year—it was one of the closest relationships he had ever had, excluding Marlene of course.

"You know, I have always believed that it doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as someone loves you," Remus said, his voice soft. Regulus was used to how Remus quickly changed the subject with no warning, and he simply let out a soft laugh.

The laughter died in his throat when Remus's eyes hardened. "I'm afraid you might not be loveable, Reg," he said. "You're here with the ultimatum 'join me or die,' correct?"

Regulus gripped his wand, anger surging through his chest. "You could choose to fight," Regulus muttered, the smile completely dropping from his face.

Remus simply laughed. He looked so content, it was almost maddening. "It's the day after a full moon, Reg. I can barely hold my book. I'm afraid you'll have to kill me."

Feeling his stomach drop, Regulus searched Remus's expression and posture for any hint that the werewolf might join him, but he found none. Finally, he raised his wand, aiming it at Remus's throat.

"Goodbye, Rem," he murmured before casting the same curse as he had on each of his previous victims.

Remus, unlike the others, was delivered a kill shot first; he died quickly.

His body had just stopped twitching when the front door to the apartment opened and shut relatively heavily. "I'm home, love," Sirius called from the main room. Regulus stood as he heard his brother's footsteps near the bedroom.

"I brought home some chocolate," Sirius said as he opened the door, a grin on his face. His expression of joy quickly dropped, along with the bag he had been holding, and he let out a scream filled with more pain than anything Regulus had ever heard.

"What the fuck have you done?" Sirius cried out, instantly in front of Regulus, gripping his shirt tightly, his arms trembling in anger and desperation.

"It's nice to see you too, brother," Regulus replied coolly, still a little shaken up from what he had done.

"You're not my fucking brother," Sirius seethed. "You're worthless."

"I… I know," Regulus replied, though his tone wasn't one of guilt or remorse, but more of curiosity. Sirius shoved him away hard enough to make Regulus trip and fall backwards, letting out a small noise of surprise.

By the time Regulus had stood up, Sirius was hunched over Remus's body, legs straddling his dead lover's hips, hands buried in tawny curls, and forehead resting on a blood-splattered chest. He was sobbing, the noise fascinating to Regulus.

The younger wizard almost wanted to keep Sirius alive so his brother could properly mourn the death of his beloved, but even that was too cruel for Regulus.

Silently, he raised his wand.

Sirius died just as quickly as Remus had.

…

No matter how many people he had heard screaming, the sound never ceased to delight Regulus. He felt himself slipping farther and farther into his bloodlust, and he knew he couldn't stop it, even if he had wanted to—which he didn't.

He figured that a scream coming from the lips of his lover would be just as beautiful as any he had heard previously, and he had heard many since the night he had killed his brother. Even the Muggle news was picking up on his movements. Like Death, he didn't discriminate in who he killed. Every single person he saw, he offered the same thing: join the ranks, or die. He spared no pleasantries, no mercy, dealing out death like he was its master.

However, when he settled himself onto Marlene's bed, and she walked into her room, she didn't scream. Her eyes widened, but she didn't scream.

It really was a pity.

"Did you… Did you climb through my window?" Marlene asked, almost surprised as her eyes shifted from the open window to Regulus. There were Anti-Apparition charms up all over her flat, so, yes, Regulus had climbed through her window. As her flat was on the third storey of the building, he'd had to use a broom. But, breaking into his old girlfriend's flat had been relatively easy.

"Dreadful etiquette, I know," Regulus said with a grin.

Marlene let out a soft laugh, though her eyes danced around the room as if she were looking for an escape or a weapon. Regulus simply smiled. "I missed this," he said softly, patting the edge of the bed. After a brief moment of hesitation, she complied, walking slowly, as if he were a wounded animal.

"I'm going off the deep end, you know," he said quietly, looking on at her with amusement in his expression. "And I'm just about to reach the best, the most powerful."

Marlene nodded a little awkwardly, finally sitting down beside him, ensuring that they didn't touch—what he had done was no secret. The entire world, both wizarding and Muggle, knew his name and feared it.

"For a while, I had forgotten what I was losing my mind about, but seeing you here right now, my dear sweet Lena, I realize that I became what I am because of you. Because you kissed me that night in the Astronomy tower, because you loved me even when I came home from an assignment the Dark Lord had given me, because you wouldn't leave my head or my worries all that time I was supposed to be dead."

Regulus watched as Marlene tensed up beside him, keeping her eyes to the floor. Gently, he grabbed her chin and turned her head so she was looking at him. "Are you afraid right now, my precious?" he asked softly. She shook her head.

"You don't scare me," she said softly. "I won't run from anyone."

Her voice was so soft, so sweet, and it drew a proper smile to Regulus's lips. "Ever my brave Gryffindor," he murmured softly. "You're too good for this world, Marlene. I'm here to take you from it."

Her breath caught in her throat, and Regulus's eyes gleamed. "That's probably a good thing," she whispered. "I would rather not live in a world full of death and destruction."

Regulus chuckled softly before shifting them both so she was lying properly on the bed and he was kneeling beside her. "This will hurt," he warned, his expression peaceful, glad that she didn't try to run; he liked sounds of pain, not chasing his victims.

When she didn't respond, he silently casted his favorite curse, and a gash appeared across her chest. She let out a cry, but it was more of a gasp than a scream. When he leaned over her, her green eyes ripe with tears, he smiled.

"Blood looks good on you, my dear," he murmured, cupping her cheeks and leaning down to press a slow kiss to her lips.

"Get out of my face," she said weakly, her eyes squeezing shut.

"But I like the view," he replied, eyes bright as he pulled away just enough to see all of her beautiful face in its pain-filled glory. She was breathtaking.

"Well, I don't," she murmured, her breath coming out in short spurts as tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes. Regulus carefully wiped them off of her skin with the backs of his knuckles, each movement soft.

After drinking the sight of her in one last time, Regulus leaned down to press another slow kiss to her lips as he raised his wand to her throat. He murmured the curse, and warm blood splattered across him.

He kissed her until her lips were cold.

A/N 2.0:

Here are my prompts:

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Musicals: (Hamilton.. From MoonytheMarauder1) "Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it takes and it takes and it takes."

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The Hunger Games:

(word) Haven

(emotion) Guilt

(dialogue) "It's the end of the world as we know it."

(character) Regulus Black

(pairing) James and Lily

(weapon) Fire

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Writing Clubs:

Ami's Audio: #9 (theme) Multiple people dying

Lyric Alley #17:Turn it around, get a rewrite

Count Your Buttons:

#3 (song) Young and Menace

#1 (item) Dummy/Pacifier

#2 (character) Marlene Mckinnon

#5 (word) Decant

Book Club #8 Katherine van Leuwen:

(dialogue) "Death is not the end."

(plot point) Looking for someone

(emotion) Fear

(time) Sundown

(word) Numbness

Disney Challenge #1: (dialogue) "You don't scare me. I won't run from anyone."

Showtime #10: (word) Goodbye

Sharing is Caring September #4: (dialogue) "I've been waiting all day."

Film Festival #21: (dialogue) "Be quiet. You're starting to annoy me."

Dark Lady's Diabolical Lair #3: Dark!AU

Lo's Lowdown #14: Write about someone who thinks they are better than everyone

Bex's Basement #2: (dialogue) "It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like, so long as someone loves you."

Angel's Arcade #11 Vector:

(color) Green

(word) Boss

(house) Slytherin

(trait) Confident

Amber's Attic #1: Perhaps our fatal flaw is that we attempt to make forever out of people who are meant to be temporary.

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Friends:

Ari (meme): "You can't always control who walks into your life… but you can control which window you throw them out of."

Elizabeth:

(dialogue) "I don't know what you want from me."

(word) phenomenal

(dialogue) "Did you—did you climb through my window?!"

(dialogue) "There's more than one way out, if at the end of the day you're at the end of your rope." —Groundhog Day

(dialogue) "Why are you here?" / "Because I wanted to see your happy face." / "Look at me. I'm not smiling."

(dialogue) "Get out of my face." / "But I like the view." / "Well I don't."

(dialogue) "You're worthless." / "I... I know."

(plot point) Someone fakes a death

Murder

Wolfstar

"You're too good for this world, [insert name]. I'm here to take you from it."

Maddie:

(dialogue) "Fuck you."

(song) Sedated by Hozier

(dialogue) "Do you feel cold yet?"

(dialogue) "Was that supposed to hurt?"

(dialogue) "I've missed this."

(dialogue) "Now your world is mine."

(dialogue) "You… you are" / "Beautiful, a genius, immensely talented." / "Dangerous."

(dialogue) "Blood looks good on you, my dear."