Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count: 517
To Fill The Emptiness
Tom walked through the park, his hands in his pocket. He kept a brisk pace, if only to avoid people stopping him to make conversation. He had no wish to talk to anybody here.
He didn't really know why he was still here at all.
Little Hangleton held nothing for him now that he'd fulfilled his plans, but the lack of… anything had perturbed him enough that he didn't apparate straight away as he'd planned too.
Tom had always known there was something different about himself. He'd considered his lack of being ruled by his emotions to be one of his greatest strengths and yet…
He thought that maybe he should feel something, for killing his father. It was the first time he'd ever directly murdered someone after all. The first time that somebody's life had ended at Tom's own hand.
He thought he should feel something, even if it was only triumph, but he didn't.
He just felt… empty.
He had to go home, he knew, and soon. The ritual was all carefully prepared for him to do it as soon as he could, and he was as ready as he would ever be.
It was going to hurt he knew, but physical pain had never scared him, and emotional pain was foreign to him. Who could hurt him, if he chose not to care?
He wasn't hesitant about it either. He'd long silence the voice in the back of his head—it sounded annoyingly like Dumbledore—that told him there were better ways to prolong his life.
A Horcrux would be perfect.
Who needed a whole soul anyway, when you could split it into special containers, to hold it for when disaster struck?
Tom would have enemies, after all. He knew that. His opinions were strong and many would disagree with him, and there would undoubtedly be people who were jealous of his power too.
With so much envy and anger aimed his way, a failsafe was the best thing for him, and the diary was the perfect host with the charms Tom had found.
But to make a Horcrux… you had to take a life.
Tom didn't expect to feel regret. He really didn't. Especially not for a Muggle who had abandoned his mother and him before Tom had even been born.
He'd expected to feel… well, he didn't know what to expect to feel, but he'd expected to feel something.
Not this… emptiness.
He reached the far gates of the park, his brisk pace bringing him there before he was truly ready to leave, but he didn't hesitate.
It wasn't who he was now. He knew who he was, who he intended to be.
Lord Voldemort would be born as soon as Tom initiated his ritual, and maybe it would be easier to be emotionless.
If he didn't feel anything, he could get things done faster.
With a final breath, Tom Disapparated away from the park. He had more important things to be doing than musing over a lack of emotion that he didn't want anyway.
Emptiness was better. He'd just fill it with power.
Written for:
Mini golf: hole 10: 3. Tom riddle
Murder mystery: where: a park
Geek pride: kingdom hearts: a character feeling empty
Game of life: brisk walking