A/N: yet again, I still don't own anything. Side note, thanks for the PM's keep reading, keep reviewing.

Chapter 11. Red Eyes, Pale Skin, Eating Death

(Two days ago)

A faint laugh echoed through the deep and dark dungeons. Sly and nefarious. The voice cut the pallid silence with ease. Two deep red eyes bobbed into existence as they seemed to float within reach of the faint glow of a single lantern, the vertical pupils dilating quickly as they absorbed the broken form of a rather portly figure.

"Slughorn, you were a Slytherin, you taught even me." The voice whispered, bending to one knee as his wand came forward, gracing the ex-professors chin as he pointed his face towards him.

Voldemort's cold sneer met the broken and battered eyes of the portly individual. He took a deep breath and turned back around, snapping his wand towards the individual "Crucio!" he yelled, watching the red light bathe the man as his screams sounded through the dank dungeon.

Slughorn struggled against the chains, his eyes rolling in his head. He could smell blood and copper as he felt as if a needle was being pushed into every pore of his skin, his blood felt as if it had been replaced by sulphur, weaving its way through him until he felt the curse released. His eyes heavily towards the pale snake like guise of his captor. Voldemort's eyes held no remorse, no pity, only utter disgust at the creature before him.

"You should never have denied me." Voldemort whispered before allowing the crucio to escape his lips as he basked in the man's pain. He held it just long enough before breaking the spell. He watched the individual tremble and shake, the after effects of the curse, before he snapped his wand back. "Avada Kadavra." He muttered with silent appreciation for his most favorite of spells.

He made his way from the dungeons. "Dispose of the body." He told a masked sentry as he left.

Gleaming red eyes pierced the swarthy black that surrounded him as he chanced a glance around the floor before his throne. He was seated quietly, amicably, reserved, yet silently coiled to strike. A wan hand graced the top of a massive boa as it hissed quietly, displaying its hunger, its fervor. Nagini had silently wrapped herself around the chair, her slitted pupils dilating in the waning light as her master observed the hunched and bent figures who bowed before him. 'Such reverence' he thought. A charmingly nefarious smile threatened to grace his lips, but he hid it well. 'They think me a god' he said to himself. 'Then a god I am' such an ego. He remained reserved, allowing them to hold this pose as it pleased him before gesturing for them to rise clearing his throat as the masked figures faced him in full.

They remained on bent knee watching their lord with silent veneration, fear. He was no being to be toyed with. His less than amicable and reptilian face hid a silent insanity that threatened the very existence of his followers, yet the allure; the feeling of power he exuded made them want to follow him, regardless of the pain they felt.

"Death Eaters." He began, not moving from his spot. "My Death Eaters." He paused, waving his wand over the congregation.

"In the last month, I am pleased to say that you have caused quite the uproar. The wizarding world as a whole is in a place of civil unrest, unable to understand the reason why such devastation and chaos runs freely. Each strike is a blow to the ministry, a critical strike in the body of one of our foes as they waver, clinging to what breath they have. But it is futile."

He watched the nods of agreement, a slow smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Though these guerilla tactics seem mundane, can anyone tell me why they are a necessary?"

No one responded, all knowing the question was not to be answered.

"It is to displace the society we call the wizarding government. Their inability to handle the influx of impurity is such that our world is dissolving. It is to make the community as a whole beg and plead for an alternative, hope for something better, look to outside means to ensure the success of our world of our race. The people out there no nothing of our goal; they find us to be no less than hate mongers, fascist simpletons who sadly cling to a tenant of a past race. But that is far from the case, far from our goal, though I will admit, purity is power, all we wish to do is assert our superiority over those that claim to be equals."

He waited once more.

"You cannot fault yourselves because of the decaying beliefs of others. Others like Albus Dumbledore."

Coming to a complete stop, he reached forward and punched the bridge of his nose before looking back among the congregation. Such eloquence came naturally to the truly sadistic and inherently powerful. One could call it a silver tongue. The ability to disgorge words that ensnared and trapped. He was gifted, to say the least, gifted by a sense of superiority and extensive knowledge of trickery and manipulation.

"I must say, I am exceptionally pleased by the events of the last raid. Know that your Lord always demands perfection, but know your Lord also awards skills and competence." Voldemort acquiesced.

(Flashback)

January 23rd 2000

The silence was broken by the sound of multiple pops outside a small, sleepy muggle village. The population was roughly 700 hundred, but if they played it right, they could drop that number significantly. Their purpose was clear, move swiftly and strike with unbridled malice. The aim was to cause as much damage in 30 minutes as possible and then return.

A quick strike, quick, but deadly.

Spirits were high this evening, even the lowest of the ranks swelled with pride as a ghostly figure parted the throng of black clad individuals. Voldemort, the Dark Lord was leading this strike himself. He looked to his right, half expecting to see the insane witch with whom he had grown accustomed too. Her shrieking and callous laugh no longer adorned the crowd, likely snuffed out by the aurors. 'What a pity' he thought as he remembered what happened to the dark witch Bellatrix Lestrange, who was now replaced by the silent and reverent Alecto Carrow. Her brother stood in the distance.

All faces were hidden by the insidious masks that magically gave their eyes a red glow.

Voldemort's hand raised, and paused, catching everyone's attention. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours as finally, he dropped his hands, commanding the group to strike.

They did.

Quietly they made their way into the village as finally an explosion shook the air. Screaming and panic gripped the community as the individuals rushed from their house to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, only to follow down by the force of a sickly green light.

The Death Eaters, his Death Eaters were performing wonderfully. He felt alive, he felt giddy, he felt great as he lazily cast his wand here and there, curses escaping the tip his ebony handled yew and phoenix feather wand. Oh the simplicity of death and pain. It truly was the only link to these filthy creatures that ran from his might.

He moved characteristically stealthily through the muggle streets, his wand hand snapping forward every so often as he blast through muggles; men women and children alike. They were all nothing too him, nothing more than indistinct parasites that took up what valuable space the wizarding world had. He made his way to the town square. Upon reaching the statue of a man holding a scroll, pointing to the north, he raised his wand and blasted the statue apart. He finally turned as he watched his snake coil around him.

"Nagini…eat." He said, motioning to the dead muggles that littered the floor.

They mayhem was of course indescribable, but none the less a necessary show of force. He continued to pick his way through the streets, his black cloak billowing out with each gust of wind. He noted the ferocity his side fought with.

"THEY ARE HERE! THE ORDER IS HERE!" One single hoarse voice cried out.

Voldemort turned on the spot, looking towards the direction which the voice had come from. He barely noticed that a small group of his people were caught in simultaneous dueling matches with the arriving members of the Order. Voldemort quickly moved towards the enemy. Two Order members tried to stand his way and were surprisingly able to stand to him for almost 20 seconds before he had enough and cast them aside as if they were rag dolls.

"Hello Tom" An aged and venerable voice spoke breaking his revelry.

Voldemort killed the muggle nearest him before looking up at the one man he had once admired most.

"Albus, what a pleasure." He said softly, his voice barely above audible as it wormed and snaked its way from his lips.

"Stop what you are doing Tom." Albus requested, knowing full well what the answer would be.

Voldemort shook his head, a small smirk breaking across the taut featers of his face, "You know that is no longer my name." He replied before his hand snapped forward, "Avada Kedavra!" was his final reply.

Dumbledore was ready as he wordlessly conjured a great blue shield that dispelled the attack.

The battled that ensued broke the realms of known power as the two Arch Mages dueled with a ferocity that slowly began to shake the earth below them. All participants in this battle slowly paused as they watched the pair conjure beasts from the air, manipulate fire, control the sheer essence of nature.

Dumbledore rose both hands above his head and clasped them together, he brought them forward, assailing Voldemort with gale force winds that could easily freeze a man solid in a matter of seconds, but his conjuring was too quick as from nowhere a nebulous cloud manifested overhead, swirling dangerously before releasing a concussive torrent of black lightning, abating the arctic temperatures Dumbledore was unleashing.

The old man was breathing hard, and barely manage to move out of the way before countering with a Arch Mage level dispelling charm that created a greyish ripple through the sky.

Voldemort laughed as he stepped to the right, raising his free hand as he summoned a mass of black energy before releasing it, he twirled his wand to form the silhouette of a massive basilisk and unleashed it on Dumbledore, giving him a taste of his soul magic. The etehereal beast moved like lightning as it dove for the headmaster.

Dumbledore's hand snapped back as he waved his wand in anger, an unseen force slamming the beast into a wall before he twisted his arm and brought the figure slamming to the earth below. He dispelled it, only to be caught in an unrelenting onslaught of curses as Voldemort was clearly on the offensive. Dumbledore was doing his best to defend himself and was quite easily succeeding. The pair were almost evenly matched but Voldemort's youth and dark ritual enhanced body had the clear and upper hand. Finally Albus ducked into an alley to catch his breath.

"Looks like I win, Headmaster." Voldemort spat, bowing to where his enemy had been.

"Before I leave, allow me to give you a parting gift." He began to smile mischievously.

The order had been pushed back, and the Death Eaters were still fighting them. One group of death eaters had rounded up a group of muggles and was holding them at bay. He turned to the form of Dumbledore who had come out of hiding, a glint in his eyes.

"Kedavra Maxima!"

Voldemort's cruel voice sounded, a green light escaping from his wand surrounding him as it exploded outward for 8ft, swallowing two of his own Death Eaters before killing all 9 muggles, scorching the earth beneath he and them. When the spell faded, even his own minions stood in shock and awe. They had never seen that before. "Morsmordre" he screamed with a snake like smile before vanishing in a veil of black smoke.

The last thing he saw was Dumbledore's wide and shocked, baleful eyes screaming a silent no…

(End Flash Back.)

A satisfied gleam seemed to dance through his half opened lids. He sat back before rocking forward and standing up.

"Excursions like that are what I wish to see." He finished as he waved his hand to the congregation. The majority instantly knew that was a sign to be dismissed, and thus they did, quietly and respectfully. The Dark Lord called for his inner circle, as he returned to his throne. The group creating a semi-circle around their most exalted master.

"Yaxley…" He spoke quietly.

A single death eater bowed respectfully. He fell at the Dark Lord's robe, kissing the hem before he slid back a ways and waited for the dark lord's command.

"Tell me, your Auror's, they still have nothing to report regarding Lucius and Narcissa?" he questioned.

The Death Eater stayed quiet for a moment, deeply surveying the cracks in the stone beneath him before he replied. "No, my lord. Wherever he has gone, he is very well hidden." He finished, bowing his head as he refrained from saying another word.

"Crucio!" Voldemort yelled again. The red stream of lighting dancing over the length of the man. "I will not tolerate incompetence Yaxley. You made reference to your skill and ability, yet I see none of it. Should you wish to retain your 'position', I would implore you to try harder." Sneered Voldemort before he released the spell and watched the writhing blonde.

"Y-y-es, m-my Lord." He said through constant muscle spasms as he attempted to stand up.

With that they were dismissed. Voldemort had more troubling things on his mind.

Despite his cool and inscrutable face, Voldemort hid his trepidation. On one hand he was very pleased with the recent success his forces had been having, on the other, the attacks over the month of December weighed upon him. Indeed whomever had committed them knew how to stage it to look as if it was his doing, the murders matched his MO. Not only that but with the Dark mark lingering above the houses of the dead he was forced to take the free publicity. Though it unnerved him to no end. His wandering mind leaving him with nothing but an assortment of questions.

He lapsed into memory, remembering the fat man whom he had recently killed. When Bellatrix and Lucius were present, they had asked for what purpose did they need Slughorn. It was obvious, besides being a pureblood, he was also a rather talented potions master and an ex Slytherin. His current ties to the Slytherin house would have made for a perfect source of immediate recruits. He would have served the lords purpose perfectly.

Alas, there are those that are too proud to simply understand when to say no and when to say yes. Had he consented, perhaps life would be better for him, perhaps he would have been alive. Returning to his previous thoughts he continued to speculate on who would be brave enough to mock his methods?

"A very stupid person indeed." He whispered aloud.

The Inner circle was very grave as they watched the Dark Lord remain quietly in the pseudo throne room. It meant he was thinking, and with that extremely warped, sadistic, though excessively intelligent mind, he was formulating an idea, or coming to a conclusion. Either could or rather would not bode well for them as none could tell the difference between his contempt, scorn, anger, rage, or simple dislike as they all tended to end up with you curled in fetal position at his feet, begging for mercy as they attempted to alleviate the pain of that all too familiar red light.

"No one still has a fix on Lucius, nor Bellatrix?"

"No"

"What about John Mackentire?"

"What about him?"

"He never returned; that was over a month ago, he was the last one to speak to Lucius."

"Are you blind, or simply daft? You didn't read the report in the Daily Prophet of a wizard duel in muggle London, right outside of the Leaky Cauldron." Yaxley retorted, remembering the article.

Daily Prophet

December 21st

Wizards Duel it Out on London Cobbles/ Muggles Injured

On December 20th the Ministry of Magic was alerted to a fierce battle between what could be assumed to be Dark Wizards and Auror forces. The struggle occurred just outside of The Leaky Cauldron. The duel occurred in muggle London, 1 ½ blocks away from the wizarding establishment. Reports are unconfirmed as to why the battle began, but eye witnesses claim that financial and political titan, Lucius Malfoy and his lovely wife Narcissa Malfoy were caught in the duel that ended the life of 4 aurors, and left many more muggles grievously injured.

"We will do anything, and everything we can to retrieve the parties responsible for such a heinous act that robbed our fine world of some outstanding young men." Minister Scrimgeour announced.

Some people doubt that. Lucius Malfoy was sentenced to an undisclosed amount of time in Azkaban. We now know that he was part of the group of wizards that escaped during the 3rd escape from Azkaban in the last seven years. One has to wonder, 'is this really the most terrifying prison in the wizarding world?' Further evidence placed an unknown pair, cloaked in black with the escaped convict. It seems even felons have friends. (more on page b6)

"Lucius and Narcissa were spotted with the hooded couple. Whoever they were, they were talented, but they got away. I'm assuming Mackentire gave pursuit and then was either killed or captured, either way he's most likely dead by now." Yaxley finished, eyeing Travers and the remaining members of the inner circle.

No one said anything. They all agreed that for the time being it was wise to leave the Dark Lord to postulate his answers, thus giving them time to find concrete evidence and ripostes to return, perhaps get his favor and avoid another round of torture.

(Voldemort)

Anger seemed to be the dominant emotion, thus explaining his lapse into self-vindication.

I am incensed. I am cold. I am riddled by malice, conjuring darkness riddled with immense desires. What a play on words. Riddle, a conundrum a question intentionally phrased to require ingenuity in ascertaining its answer. Riddle, a large coarse sieve, esp. one used for separating ashes from cinders or sand from gravel. Riddle, Make many holes in someone or something. The vast meanings for one simple word. I am nothing but simple. The complexity that is the enigma of which I am cannot be defined by a few words so conscribed in a manner as to explain me.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

That was my name.

To say that I am nothing less than a paradox is to say that our dear blue sky is red. A simple situation, is it not? I am the immortal so extolled. Cruelty given a face, and a body to match the depth of its incumbent and all too natural malevolence. Hatred given eyes that burned like the deepest realm of the hells below.

Not even the devil wants to deal with me.

In all my darkness and eternal glory, I am wise. Wise for the years that I have lived and thus I give way to certain machinations, designs that will cast a forlorn shadow across England that will slowly swallow the wizarding society as a whole. I will generate a snake that will coil around this lack luster wizarding community and ring our world free of its impurities. Suffocate it of all deformities and pollutants.

Magic is might.

The unbound truth of the millennium. 'Magic. Is. Might.' Yet many of my kin find that so hard to believe. We are bound by idiocy, roped by ignorance. Why can't they see that I am trying to free us of the constraints placed on us by our ancestors and their fear of the infection known as muggles and muddle bloods? This is all for the greater good. I am the penicillin of the wizarding world, I was born to ensure the purity of our race, born to eliminate the contaminants.

Lord Voldemort

That is my name.

'Yet a fool considers emulating me...mockery is not flattering.' he thought...in regards to the attacks over the holidays.

There were but a few that were allowed to break the revelry of the Dark Lord without fear of death. One just person did. He opened the door slowly and bowed his head quickly, remaining in the position until Voldemort gave notice and ushered him in with a silent 'Come'. He looked up, and down his vulture like nose as the faint light surrounded his pale and gaunt skin. He pushed back his greasy hair and walked forward with a characteristic sneer set crudely upon his haughty face.

"My Lord, I have just received your summons."

His voice was timid, scared even, very much unline the typical arrogant aristocratic drawl he so tried to emulate. He had gone to one knee as he watched the Dark Lord observe him with keen eyes. No doubt attempting legilimancy, but he was patient, and he was loyal. Once the Dark Lord looked away from him he bowed his head once more.

"Severus, have you done what I asked?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. And those I put under your care?"

"Most of them are fine, but some unfortunately were too far gone. I was remised to do it, but I gave them a quick death."

The Dark Lord smirked as his fierce gaze snapped back to the potions master. Once more he gave him the prestine stare, attempting to break the barriers of his mind to witness these supposed mercy killings for himself.

(Snapes Mind)

It was only snap shots of memories. Snape entered a dark room with 12 beds, 6 on each side. At the very back was a complete potion brewing set. Each bed had an injured death eater. Their maladies ranged from simple curses that could only be cured through the ingestion of a specific potion, to degenerative curses that ate you from the inside out….

The memory swirled out of view.

Another memory snapped into view, "Drink this you fool!" Snape's voice beseeched a young Death Eater. He was not too pleased. The young man did and instantly fell asleep. The memory faded into nonexistence.

The memories swirled back in to view. "YOU FOOL!" Snape yelled as a Death Eater had bumped into him, causing him to spill a potion that had taken him hours to brew. He shoved the death eater before quickly brandishing his wand. "Crucio!" He screamed, startling some of his sleeping patients. The acolyte fell to the ground, the vision of the writhing and crying individual slowly faded into grey and then black.

As another replaced it, it was now Severus standing over the bed of a wriggling patient that grabbed fiercely at their stomach. Their eyes were wide and blank. "Avada Kedavra" Snape murmured as the young man fell into the clutch of oblivion

The memory's continued to flow around as Voldemort quickly exited his thoughts.

(End)

Snape flinched, though attempted to hide it as the dark lord looked away once more. "Severus, you have done well in your service. Continue to gather information as you have been. Undermine the old fool. " He said quietly with a hiss. "Yes, my lord." Snape replied. "You may leave Severus." He finally ushered the man out. Satisfied by what he saw. Snape stood and silently made his way out. Passing what remained of the inner circle, nodding quickly as he made to return to Hogwarts. He was pleased by the Dark Lords understanding of the depth of his loyalty. The raid had been a success because of the false information he had fed the Order. He renewed his vigilance. His dedication to the right cause and would double his efforts, the orders just cause would fail as he continued to lead them astray, right before the blue gaze of the foolish aged wizards.

He walked to a fire place, grabbing a pinch of floo powder as he tossed it in. The flames burst and danced wildly for a moment as they turned green. "Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape's office." He whispered before stepping into the fire and vanishing in a swirl of color.

A/N: New chapter will be up this weekend. R/R thanks! Enjoy!