#Invasive – Super Saturday Word Count – Pay an escalation cost for each add on | Rating: T | Genre: Horror
400 words – Slithering, seeping into your soul. Crawling, creeping out of control. Tricky thoughts seep into your brain, but it's okay, you're already insane.
He wanted more. More of the thrill, more of the power. He shivered in delight, mouth twisting into a triumphant grin. Why did something so very, very wrong release such euphoria? Surely something so bad make him feel this way? Nothing else had managed it, so was it really so bad?
The images flashed across his eyes yet again as he brought his memories to the forefront of his mind.
The cruel sneer on his face turning to shock as the pointed wood was directed at him. Eyes widening in astonishment and then fear as dulled eyes met gleaming ones.
All it took was one word. Just one word and he could feel the power rushing through him, bending to his will. It filled his entire being and was expelled bluntly, then it was all over in no time at all. It was quite anticlimactic, the body slumping to the floor with a soft 'thump', wide eyes staring at everything yet nothing.
He found the whole process quite disappointing. How could he revel in his triumph when it happened so quickly? There was nothing satisfying about a gasp. He needed something that would get the adrenaline pumping through his veins, that would make it obvious why he came out on top.
He would succeed in this, making himself great and feared. He would be the one that brought death to people. He would hold that power of them. And what greater power would be to triumph over death itself?
The smooth chain trailed through his fingers, coming to a stop at the curve of the oval locket. The imprint of the raised design pressing into his skin.
Everything was falling into place. He knew he could do it now. Scoffing at the remembrance of the warnings he read. Killing wasn't difficult.It was remarkably easy, he felt nothing lying heavily on him. With plenty of ways to make it happen he wouldn't even get bored.
What could he do next? The opportunities were limitless. He could get creative, stretch his mind a little. The next time had to be better, more interesting, more fun. For him, anyway. Nothing so blunt as a simple curse this time, he needed something with more finesse. Something that would agonisingly draw the process out yet be untraceable.
No point in having his fun cut short by being thrown to the dementors, was it now?
+ 200 words – Go on, revel in your madness
He couldn't believe that it had actually worked. Of course, he had read all the books that Slughorn's signature had provided him with. Memorised them, even, so that he didn't have to hold onto them. Not that anyone cared about what intelligent, capable Tom Riddle was reading. He was going to be great; you see.
But, still, reading wasn't quite the same thing as doing and books had the infuriating ability to leave key things out at the most inopportune times. Not this time. It had been almost exactly as described.
The locket fell free of his hand, spinning as it swung back and forth. Did it feel a little heaver now that something so precious was ensconced in it? A quick flick of the wrist and it was back in his hands, his eyes greedily taking in all of its little details. It was his, all his. He was the rightful owner; it was his birth right.
It seemed apt that this would be his true beginning. Using his true heritage to set himself on the path to greatness. A most fitting rebirth, shedding everything muggle and restoring what was once great. He would make it great once again.
+ 200 words – But, oopsies! It's a bit infectious today!
A slim, pale hand rested lightly on his forearm. He jerked out of his thoughts only to see a familiar face.
"Bellatrix," he breathed, tracing the outline of her face in the air.
Dark red lips stretched into an adoring smile. He liked that. The adoration, the slavishness. He had quite forgotten where he was, that he had been hosting a meal of sorts.
"I will follow you anywhere," she declared breathily, pleasing him greatly.
"You will, won't you?" his voice was thick, oozing. "And doing anything as well."
"Of course, anything that you require."
Such power he held over her, so seductive and addictive to wield. So easily, too. He knew that she felt it as well. She was the perfect example of how people could better themselves by seeking power, after all. It had made her stronger and far more dangerous. Just what he needed.
"Perfect. You will aid me greatly."
"And bring destruction to those who don't?" she asked eagerly, face flushing in her excitement.
"Of course."
Bellatrix Lestrange looked into his eyes for approval before laughing long and loud in glee, her cackle echoed by Tom Riddle's low chuckling.
He was going to rule the world.
