The Bleeding of Cornelius Stork

He walked briskly through the halls in a limp his feet peppering the floor. Adorning a large suitcase that swung discernibly on his side, he made his way to the end of the valiantly decorated hallway. Christmas decorations flashed without descent around him, lighting his face in some sort of satanic twilight. He pushed forward, his shoulder poised ahead of him as if he was in a deformity. He finally made it to a small room cluttered with machines and patients, who were deeply involved in their slumber. He dropped the suitcase to the floor. He proceeded to move to the edge of the room, to a bed with an elderly inhabitant. The man pushed a chair next to the bed and sat awkwardly in it. He stared at the man's beating and desolate body, as if thinking of something within. His face poised with hatred, his mouth rigged with a certain hellish glare. He pushed forward breathing over the sleeping body like a vulture, as if waiting to consume his essence. He eventually strayed from this position, and picked up the suitcase bringing it over to the bedside.

He pushed open the clamps that held the suitcase shut. He slowly opened it on his lap, taking out two crystal-clear vials and some tweezers. He pulled at the man's hair, managing to pry forth a hair that he dropped into one of the vials. The deformed man then produced quietly a long ebony stick from his coat pocket. He laid it down on the man's chest. Putting the vial away, he sat next to the man quietly.

The man slowly began to wake. When he was awake he lazily pulled up his arm and touched the wand that sat silently on his chest. He flung it into the air casting a crimson illumination over the room. The light reddened the deformed man's extremities. He looked like the reaper, his scythe posed and raised above the old man like a tormenting virus. The man finally laid his wand on his chest and heaved slowly before turning to his company.

"Veris."

"Cornelius." Replied the other man coldly, his voice stinging the air like fire.

"You plan to take it all."

"Yes."

"Well you could easily know more about it if I told you myself. But, you're tight on time, so I wouldn't want to waste it."

"What do I have to lose?" Veris asked smiling.

"In my dying hour, what else is there to do but tell you the truth, Veris?" He looked at the deformed man with a pleading look, as if Veris could deliver him from his reality. "You would want to know of the book." He turned away, towards the other wall.

Veris in his veracity took upon the man like a wolf, ready to devour. "Yes." His smile was demonic. "The book."

The man looked at Veris for some time, before speaking. "Please—for the sake of being, can you make it so they won't hear this…. exchange."

"Ah, don't be an idiot, Cornelius. You have the wand." Said Veris heinously.

Cornelius pulled up the wand, and carefully examined it. "It is mine."

"Yes. It is yours."

Cornelius swiftly extended his arm and a rain of small silver confetti began to shroud him and Veris. "It is done." He looked over at Veris, who sat quietly in the dark room. Cornelius continued to prod and spin his wand through his fingertips. He looked at Veris threateningly. He then pulled it upwards, pulling Veris off his chair, dangling him by an invisible rope. "Veris, I could easily kill you now." Cornelius said, smiling sadistically. "I haven't felt this kind of power…. no…. control for a long time. I thank you for showing it to me again."

Veris looked down at him, holding his neck as if being strangled by hands that didn't exist. "I know you would want to kill me," he said in between breaths, "but you won't. You know for a fact that it will continue to haunt you, and even killing me will not deliver your vengeance. Only in death can you confront your demons."

Cornelius laughed frailly. "You think I have any sort of recognition, any sort of right or wrong?"

"No. But you are old. Your death is not far from reality. You can feel it as I feel it. Killing me would do nothing for you."

Cornelius laughed again, a deviate smile sprawled across his face, "what do I have to lose?" Cornelius looked Veris in the eyes, his own eyes pained with crimson and fire as if his soul was part of his extinction. Then he pulled away, dropping Veris onto the ground.

Veris eventually got up from the floor and sat on the chair. He continually grasped his aching neck. Eventually Cornelius began to speak again, but it was not about the book or magic—it was about his grandchildren. Veris listened intently, waiting for the bridge that would bring him closer to the information he was searching for.

Finally he looked Veris in the eyes. "What do you want the book for?"

Veris looked at Cornelius with odd curiosity. "I want it for the same reason you did."

"And look at me! You-Know-Who wants it so he may cast it into the fire. It threatens him as it threatens men in all their vanity. It threatens the very foundations of the human will. It weakens us. We become slaves to its words. You want this for your own means. I know for a fact You-Know-Who fears it as I do now."

"Why would You-Know-Who fear it if it would give him all the power of the world?"

"There are things you don't understand," snapped Cornelius. "You're a simple wizard, without much knowledge of the world we live in!"

Veris grabbed the old man by shoulders, shaking him violently. "Tell me old man. What do you know that I don't? Do you at least know where it is?"

The old man pushed Veris away. "I do not know where it is, Veris." Cornelius answered. "You see, ever since it left my presence it has since went through the hands of over fifty different wizards. Each wizard has befallen a grievous death by the hands of the next book-holder, and so on and so forth. The last time I heard of its cycle was by the man named Ritter. If you can find him, there is a possibility you can find the book."

"Cornelius, you're lying!" Veris cackled, "You're the worst kind of liar. The one who speaks louder when he knows his words won't carry on to anybody listening!"

"Am I? It has been too long since I tasted the love of a woman, the compassion of a friend. The only thing I know is defeat. Not even my grandchildren can show me their innocence or imagination, for I am numb. It is has been too long since I lost my soul to the domains of that damned book. Vengeance compelled me, and this is where I have come!" Snapped Cornelius.

"You're talking like a madman." Veris said, stepping away from the bedside. He looked at Cornelius as if Cornelius was infected.

"I am a madman, Veris. You do not know what kind of struggles I have had to endure." Cornelius said, trailing off in his mind. "The things I have seen…." Cornelius whispered. "I know why you want it, Veris. You want it so you can become stronger. You believe that you can find it before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Na…."

"I am already more powerful than Voldemort!" Veris screeched, prowling around the old man's bed. "I'm the most powerful wizard who ever lived. No one will be able to challenge my domain after I kill Voldemort! The wizard and the muggle world will bow to me as they have bowed to him."

Cornelius smiled, "Veris. If you are already more powerful than Voldemort, then why haven't you killed him already?"

"Because the moment is not ready yet." Veris exclaimed into the air. His coal-black wand crept from under his cloak and was dangling in front of the old man like a lure.

"The moment isn't ready yet because you, with all your so called power, are afraid of Voldemort!" Smiled Cornelius

"What are you on old man!" Retorted Veris. "That's not what I said!"

"No, but that would be the only reason for you wanting the book."

"Silence yourself!" Veris said, pointing his wand directly into Cornelius' face. "You speak about things you should not know about. You think your knowledge is far greater than everyone else, but you are wrong. In the long run, the only similar thing between me and you are the colors of our wands!"

"We are different. So maybe that's a good thing." Cornelius, "but perhaps you are still weaker than me." Said Cornelius smiling, seeing his effect on Veris.

"Ha! It would be a shock to know the great Cornelius Stork was more powerful than me." Said Veris, sitting back down into his seat. A silence crept from the walls and etched its presence between the two men. Cornelius turned away from Veris. "Yes….I guess it would be." He fiddled with his wand again, and began to speak openly. "I poured my blood into that book, you know."

"Your blood?"

"My thoughts. My ideas." Cornelius continued. "I shared everything with it. It lived off me, and I began to depend on its wisdom every moment of every day. I poured all of my soul into it, all my feelings. In the end, I had no feelings left for the other things I loved. I no longer had a soul to call mine and to call my own. The book had possessed and corrupted me. I could no longer feel or breath by myself. I dreaded myself. My mind burned with thoughts of inexplicable evil. Then it spoke to me. It talked about my feelings. It controlled me.

"Eventually I attempted to kill myself, but in the end it wouldn't let me." Cornelius smiled. "I eventually abandoned my family, disowned my friends. I began a crusade against the muggles, and I killed off many using their own trickery and magic. So I became one of them, eventually fading out of the wizard world. They eventually came to know who I was, and they began to hunt me. It was at that time that I bled the last drop of blood my body could exert. The last drop of humanity I had."

"And then?" Veris said, his mind on the verge of excitement.

"I rejoined the wizarding world, but I was ostracized by my own vague ideas. I had become the reaper, and the people I knew were the curve of my blade. Eventually insanity came over me. I became numb. I became absolute. At this point I let myself go. I let goof the book. And then I became more human. I could talk again. I changed myself.

"My only regret now is that I didn't destroy the book when I had the chance. I didn't destroy it when it had almost destroyed me."

Cornelius trailed off, turning away from Veris again. "Veris." He said.

"Yes."

"Do not go after the book."

"You know I cannot."

"Yes. I know."

"I have to go."

"Yes. I know."

Veris produced the final vial from his coat-pocket and gave it to Cornelius. "You know I cannot leave without anything."

"I know." Cornelius grabbed his wand, putting it to the temple of his head. He closed his eyes for quite some time. Finally he drew the wand outward, away from his head, drawing with it a thin silvery string. It swirled and spun around his wand. He tipped it on the vial, and it crawled in like a worm. He closed it slowly, shaking the essence that he had put into it. "It is done."

"Yes. Yes it is," said Veris grabbing the vial and the other man's wand, putting them in the unlocked suitcase. He closed it and approached the man's side. He drew his wand from his bosom, and touched the old man's head with the ebony tip.

"What is this?" Said Cornelius offended.

"You knew it would end like this."

"It doesn't have to be this way." Cornelius replied weakly.

"But it does. You even agreed. You have nothing to live for."

"I have grandchildren. My youngest is six." He trailed off, looking at his weathered hand. "She's such a beautiful child." He said, smiling.

"She's a muggle?"

"Yes. No witch would bear a child with me.'" Cornelius said. He paused, "I would like to see my muggle family once more."

Veris paused, looking at the man with a newly held power. "I'll tell you what," he said. "If you can tell me where the book is, I'll let you live."

Cornelius smiled in relaxation, "you know I don't know of the book's location. I am of no help to you."

"Your right, old man. Your not." Veris pushed the wand against the man's head. A breath escaped from Cornelius as he began to slowly slump in his bed. Finally his outstretched arm became limp as it curled off the bed to the ground below.