The First

Tom's scream faded in the domineering silence. The metallic scent filled his senses. He could feel his warm blood sticking on his chest. He grimaced at the pain. His fingers gingerly touched the tender skin only to find... nothing. The pain remained to remind him the truth though. He shakily rose to his feet. His fingers were firmly clenched around the familiar handle of his wand. He forced his body to remain still. His dark eyes peered at the changing surroundings. Lights flashed around him, swirling in a vortex of colours with him in the middle. Indistinguishable faces lurked within. The cacophony of voices sounded like a chorus of insanity. Darkness danced around the edges, like some sinister shadow play.

'Could this be a ploy of Dumbledore? Had he found about the Basilisk?'

Holding his breath, he took a step forward. The whole scene changed. Ornate sculptures of majestic snakes rose around him. The metallic scent of invisible blood faded into the molded ancient smell of the chamber. His plitter-platter of a leaking pipe punctuated the imposing silence. There was no doubt about where he was. No body knew the Chamber of Secrets as well as he did. Tom's grip around his wand tightened. There was a low chance that the Transfiguration Professor knew about this place. He doubted that he could go past his Occlumency shields. His lips thinned at the lack of answers.

'Could it be that something went wrong with the ritual?'

Dread filled his insides. He quietly walked to the statue of his forefather. His steps resounded through the hollow chamber, though they sounded wrong, almost... muffled and soft? With a perplexed frown, he ran his fingers along the statue. He felt not the harsh crude texture of stone he was expecting but instead, a softer and more familiar one... it felt like paper.


Written for Ultimate Battle

Prompt: 300 words or more of Riddle Era.