Author's Notes:

Hey, fan, thanks for the review! Although I am trying to stick with Bram Stoker's version of the vampire legend, so I'm afraid there'll be no imprints (I thought only werewolves did that? Oh, well). But I swear I'll bring more girl on girl action soon!

The door cried on its hinges after being banged open. He blew it out of his way as well as anything else. His fury was unstoppable. He had seen her throw up uncontrollably for the past few days (had it been a week?). It was sickening enough to see him cackle while the cellar reeked of nausea. She supposed it was his triumph that stopped him from killing her. No more triumph now. He had been so mistaken.

Bellatrix heard his reaction from her bedroom. The walls shook a little every time his screams reached her as muffled murmurs. She looked up. Had she planned anything, she would have miscalculated nothing.

Her body ached entirely and she coughed up even more. It had been unbearable to see her stomach empty hour after hour, even when there was nothing left. She tasted blood, the feeling crawled up behind her throat and she felt it burn inside, again, again, and again after a pause. Now he thought the sight even more revolting. He shot her from one wall to another with sharp movements from his wand, the walls cracking her bones. No heir! This freakish creature had no way of bearing a child and it tricked HIM into believing it was possible! He was again the victim of vicious behaviour, always in a nest of vipers!
Bang. He cast the Cruciatus with no consistency, repeatedly under his wrath. She felt her body sway, she screamed, her flesh burned beyond imagination. He turned away for a moment and she noticed how her fingers uncontrollably curled and how her chest heaved, her ribs against cold stone ground. She coughed, tried to push down the urge to throw up her insides and rolled over until her head was up. Be calm, she told herself. He saw it and began to walk up to her.

It would have been much less tragic if this was a reaction to his treatment, but Bellatrix knew it otherwise. She fed it bull blood. This, that clawed her chest, what was it?

Her legs kicked her exhausted body away from him almost before her eyes could focus on his face, before her mind ran off its rails. Not again. Not again, not again, if I resist he might kill me. Please kill me, he reached for her right ankle as her back found one of the walls. Her face turned away unconsciously distorted in disgust and self loathing. If only she could control herself, control it all... then she could manage a peaceful death.
All her body did was shake, from the moment he'd force her legs open to hours after he went away. It was uncontrollable; she lost her breath, he took her neck in his rough hands and chewed it. He seemed to want to gnaw it off with his teeth, his strong hands in her face stopping her from turning away, his thumb pressing beneath her jaw and almost reaching her airways, more fingers touching her insides, he said he was getting far too mad about this mess she was making, be quiet. She felt the familiar stinging, he forced her open, cursed her knees as they insisted on pressing together, he pulled her by her hair and bashed her skull against the floor, rolling her over. Now she faced the ground with dust in her lips, again she was helpless, squirming in nothing. She laid in her own filth when it came to her that her consciousness might live on. She would become her own worst nightmare, whatever he'd make her.

Bellatrix felt keen to getting up and putting up a fight with him. What was this madness? She could display no participation, could draw no suspicion. It was her moment to eclipse his possession from control, yes, she knew, to wait for him to give his toy up, but Bellatrix Black felt cornered.

He pulled her thighs, she tried to kick. His ropes came again and held her in place by her neck, wrists and knees. She tried to scream but when he invaded her all the way she ran out of air. Pain seared her insides, he was out of his mind, she was sure he was tearing her and she'd be dead soon, she was hoping for it, it hurt too badly to be ripped apart. He continued, she thought it had never hurt like this before, stop, stop, kill me. Her body shook even more, she puffed and moaned furiously. He redoubled his poundings against her, it hurt so much she felt the waves pushing her and her flesh trying to jump out of her skin. And then what would he do but beat her up eternally only for her wounds to mend and welcome the next blow? She saw his face even when her eyes were closed, she couldn't take any more of these moments, her fear so great, tears washing up her face in shame. He would ravage her. Let me go. He yelled she would have to take him with a smile and then cast an Imperius for the first time.

Bellatrix knew this was it. He would only grow quiet to worsen and would not be finished until hours later he'd find his pet to be dead under his weight. She could not have that. Her own face in the looking glass almost expressed determination as she left. She skipped a few steps in the stairway, opened the cellar door, instantly covering her face against the stink, and saw once so strong burgundy eyes wiped out to a feeble bliss. Bellatrix couldn't have this decay, not when it should strive under her diligent care. He was ruining it like he always did. She threw his body to the opposite side of the cellar so similarly to the way he did...

- Are you blaming a lesser creature for your own wanton desire?! You stupid little whining child!

Rodolphus looked both startled and furious. He stood no chance with his pants in his hands, trying to aim at his wife as his wand flew to her hand. She walked towards him, heels stronger than ever.

- You have no right... You get out of my cellar, now!

He was getting up when she forced him to stay down with another move of her wand.

- No! You are the one who has no right to destroy a property that is ours! Must I remind you that it is now forcefully mine?

He puffed and she put her right foot on his chest. She gave him a silly smile and swirled his body round to make him crawl again. His arms and legs awkwardly took him on all fours to the stairs, up and out of the door, he muttered and she yelled back:

- It is mine now and you can go and cry in whatever other bosom you want to!

Mine!, she heard. It echoed.