Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Challenges listed at the bottom.
Word Count - 469
Warning - Character Death
Too Late To Matter
His hands were freezing. He rubbed them together and blew air into them, trying to warm them up. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, given his location and current plans.
The cave was damp and dark and it sent tingles up his spine because he shouldn't be there. He knew he shouldn't and yet, he climbed into the little boat and directed it to take him to the tiny island in the middle of the cave.
On it, was a bowl, filled with a liquid that he knew was in fact a potion.
Kreacher watched him with anxiety filled eyes, reaching for the potion when Regulus scooped the first mouthful. Ignoring the elf, Regulus took the first gulp and shuddered, forcing himself to take another, and another and another. When he fell to his knees, Kreacher took over with shaking, long fingered hands, forcing more of the potion down his throat.
In his mind, Regulus watched as Sirius walked out of the house, leaving him alone. He saw his mother cackling as she blasted his first born from the family tapestry and he heard his father asking him why he wasn't as clever as Sirius had been.
He felt the Dark Mark being burned into his arm, heard the Death Eaters jeering at him for his lack of strength, his lack of courage, his chastity, his innocence, his everything.
Every single mistake, every regret, replayed in his mind and he just wanted it to stop.
Finally, Kreacher stopped feeding him the vicious liquid, and Regulus pulled himself across the ground, sure that he was leaving a trail of blood behind as his hands snagged and grazed on the rocks. He needed water, he was so thirsty.
He pulled himself to the edge and scooped water with his hands. The liquid was heavenly for a moment, until cold hands gripped at his wrist. He opened his eyes to see an animated corpse staring back at him with sightless eyes and before he could fight back, he was being pulled into the water.
He struggled against the hold, but they were strong and many. Everywhere, his arms, his legs, his torso, his neck, he could feel the cold hands everywhere.
They pulled him beneath the surface before he could even take a breath and they held him there, determined to keep him there with him, a victim of victims before him.
He'd heard drowning was a pleasant way to die, but this wasn't pleasant. This was cruel, and it was harsh and it was worse than he'd ever expected.
But it was necessary. He could only hope that one day, his death would be meaningful.
He could only hope that one day, Sirius would know that Regulus followed his path; even if it was too late to matter.
Written for:
Space - 4. Drowning
Scamander - 11. Corpse
Hogwarts Olympics - Ice Hockey / Gold - Contains no dialogue / 3. Cold Hands
Galleon - 24. Trail
365. 154. Chastity
