The Amazing Thing About: Madness. Part two. (Growth chapter one.)

Author's note:

TRIGGER WARNING: Torture and murder on a graphic level. There is profanity as well. This is a Connor POV. The first one was dark and this one is so much worse. While this installation of the series has light-hearted moments this is not a light fic.

...

Summer break was usually such a great time for most students ready to take a nice, long break from their studies. It was a time for rest, relaxation, and fun but for one special girl it was going to be so much more.

Patience was hard to come by after seeing Eliza crumble watching her new beau fall at his hands. The way she fought him felt like poetry in motion sending his blood singing in his veins. While he'd loved her weakness he adored her new strength. It would only make it so much sweeter when he finally took it from her. He wanted to know how much further he could push her until she completely broke.

She just kept pushing new boundaries it was thrilling. He'd no idea that she could be so fierce. He'd seen a glimpse of it during their first reunion but their last one had been so hard to walk away from. He wanted to stay and stomp her into the ground but he had other things to get to. He told himself it wouldn't be long before he could have his hands on her again. That was the only thing he regretted from their last run-in. He wanted to touch her, grab her, hold her, crush her.

Patience. He needed patience. It was easier to accomplish when he had something to occupy him. He needed a new toy to play with and there were so many to choose from. Picking which one he targeted next was a delicate process. He could have just chosen at random and gone for the easiest target but Eliza deserved better than that. She deserved perfection and he would deliver no less.

He wanted her pain to be like a symphony. He'd already started with a bang now it was time to really dig in and give her something to ramp up to a swell. The crescendo was hard not to jump to but he told himself it would be worth the wait. He wanted her to swim in the agony, treading water until she was finally dragged down by the very hands she'd reach to for help. With her soft heart it would be their ghosts that pulled her below the surface and that was where he would be waiting for her. At the very bottom of that abyss ready to put her out of her misery.

A shiver ran down his spine and he donned a pair of leather gloves. He liked the way they felt almost as much as he'd enjoyed securing his prey for the evening. She'd been tricky to get his hands on and watching her for weeks had him chasing his tail with the waiting game. He was on a time crunch with Eliza's birthday coming up he didn't want to leave her without a gift. Her schedule had taken a while to get used to and it was mostly luck that put her in his path. A romantic stroll with her girlfriend in the dead of night? She'd basically given herself over. How could he deny such a perfect opportunity?

"How much do you think this is going to hurt her?" He asked as he turned away from something he'd taken from her bedroom while she'd been out with her parents. It was such a negligible item, the photo. She had so many of them pinned up on her walls but this one he couldn't resist. The way Eliza's eyes looked so full of pure happiness as the two girls hugged was impossible to leave behind.

The girl glared defiantly up at him as she strained against her confines keeping her strapped to the wooden chair. She'd taken long enough to come around that he had plenty of time to figure out what to do with her girlfriend. There was no need to leave her behind when he could find a good use for her.

There was something endearing about the way her eyes glittered in fury but it was hollow. He could almost taste the fear ebbing off of her in waves. The moment she'd recognized him she'd begun to breath harder, her pulse pounding in her neck. "Fuck you." She snapped and spit onto his shoe. He looked down at the saliva on his boot. Was that all she had? She was so headstrong and resilient and all she could manage was a little spit? This was the one who'd planted doubts in Eliza's head? That was disappointing.

"Now is that any way to greet an old friend?" He used the term loosely. She'd always given him a berth even when playing nice. She was so protective of Eliza back then. He wondered if she still felt the same. Had distance made the heart grow fonder or was their friendship fading? He doubted it from the multitude of letters he'd found from Eliza. He wished he had time to read them all. There was only so much he could do as a bird only able to follow Eliza in a limited sense. But her letters would no doubt be a fountain of information.

His hand went to the back of his neck as he recalled approaching her as a crow. He still had scars on the back of his neck from her damn ferret. It made him have to keep his distance and that idiot Weasley boy nearly discovered him after that. He'd been too immersed in the way he treated her to keep from almost giving himself away. The way he so freely handled her Connor wanted to take special care in removing his hands in the future. The way he'd felt so confident in playing with her, pressing himself so close to what didn't belong to him.

Both of the brothers had far too much freedom with Eliza. The way she treated them it was as if they didn't consider him a threat whatsoever. It burned at him to think they presumed him to be a joke. He entertained the thought of killing one in front of the other. In his ultimate fantasy he would have all three of them together. He'd kill one and then the other in front of Eliza. Oh, how sweet that would be.

"Which one do you think she'd mourn the most?" He mused but the girl's only response was to curse him. He lifted his foot and tipped the chair back until it toppled over, her head smacking against the floor. The sound of her grunting in pain followed by a groan made him sigh. "You can do better than that." He said as he walked around to her side and stared down at her. There were tears forming in her eyes and he crouched as one slipped free.

Connor caught it with his index finger before bringing it to his mouth. "Bitter." He muttered as she turned her head and attempted another glare. Her eyes weren't quite focusing on him though. The impact must have been harder than he'd intended. No matter. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He asked placing two fingers in front of her. She refused to answer and he grabbed her face, shaking it back and forth. "How many?"

Again she refused to answer and he frowned. "It's less fun if you don't play along." He released her wondering if she even knew where she was. She hadn't tried to scream yet. Or did she just not see the point in calling out? His ego swelled at the idea of the very sight of him rendering her hopeless.

"Good." The girl finally grunted and his eyebrows rose a bit. Did she think that would make any difference? This wasn't for fun anyways. This was for passion. For love. For dedication.

He smiled slowly. "I said less fun. I'm still going to enjoy this very much." There was nothing that was going to take away his deep satisfaction at breaking her apart. From the way she was acting he thought it may not even use up much effort. He smoothed her hair out of her face to get a good look at her. After tonight no one would ever recognize her again. The means of identification definitely wouldn't be by visual methods.

"Should I send her a piece of you?" He slid his hand down her arm to her clenched fist. He could imagine she wanted to smash it into his face. He thought about it for a moment before he released the strap holding that arm down. Her face scrunched up in confusion at his actions. "Go ahead." He said and leaned his face forward giving her a clear shot.

There was a second of hesitation before she shouted and swung for him. With her current state it was nothing to catch her by the wrist. He laughed at the pure frustration etched into her features. "Swing and a miss." He said as she tried to pull her hand back. He then settled his gaze on her fist, admiring it before returning to maintaining eye contact.

Holding her wrist tightly he used his other hand to pry her fist open and took hold of her index finger. "What do you think? One of these?" She was putting up more resistance than he'd anticipated but it was all for not. With a quick twist of the digit and a jerk backward it broke. The scream she let loose made him chuckle. "That's better." Finally he was getting somewhere!

"You sick fuck!" She shouted, her face bright red and tears flowing freely now. She was frantically trying to pull her arm back and he watched her struggle while she spat curses at him. He waited until she quieted down a bit, her chest heaving with the breaths she was taking. If she wasn't careful she was going to hyperventilate but who was he to stop her?

"I never knew why they said sticks and stones when hands work just fine for breaking bones." He said turning his attention back to her hand. Breaking her middle finger was a slower process. He took his time with it and she screamed through gritted teeth. "Just a silly rhyme I guess." He muttered. Once he was tired of her fingers it was either strap her arm back down or yank the shoulder out of the socket. Both would render it useless but one would hurt. It was an easy decision.

Once her howling subsided and she was seething at him Connor patted her cheek. "How're ya hanging in there?" He asked. Her eyes were screaming at him but she'd gone back to gritting her teeth. There was that resilience and pride he'd once seen in her. "Good to have you back." He smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear affectionately.

"I have an idea." He said more to himself than to her but there was a flicker of question in her eyes. She had to know that none of his ideas would bode well for her so watching her come to grips with that was amusing. From his back pocket he pulled a knife. It wasn't anything intimidating, only the length of his middle finger but it wasn't for killing. Unless he was planning on taking forever with the process the knife would only serve one purpose.

Her eyes widened in fear as he brandished the blade. She turned her face away as he slid it down her cheek slowly leaving a razor-thin cut in its wake. He grabbed her face and rubbed his thumb against the cut moving the small bit of blood around and massaging it into her skin. "Ya know there's something that's been bothering me recently." He said conversationally as he turned her head all the way to the side and got a good look at the line of her neck.

"Eliza has developed this new habit of not listening very well." He continued as he placed the blade against the spot where the top of her ear met her head. She jerked and Connor set his palm flat on her cheek using his weight to keep her in place as he began to slice through the tissue. "Honestly it's been very frustrating. You'd think by now she'd have learned her lesson." He continued as her screaming filling the room once more.

It wasn't a very long process and once he was done he held her ear up, releasing her. "Maybe this would send a message since she's having such a hard time." He said inspecting it. "Thanks for letting me vent." He turned the ear over in his hand. Such a small thing but the way she was acting it was as if he'd chopped off a limb. Over and over she just kept shouting 'Fuck you!' until it started losing all meaning.

"Don't be so dramatic." He said tossing the ear to the side.

From behind him Connor heard the door open and someone enter. "Wardell."

Connor sighed as the girl began to shout at the young man who'd intruded to help her. Why was it so hard to get some time alone? One would think in a manor full of Death Eaters there would be more respect for when someone was trying to maim or mangle. Connor rose to his feet and kicked her as hard as he could in the mouth as he addressed the young man. "Do I interrupt you when you're working?" He asked as the young man eyed the girl with his nose wrinkled in disgust.

"There is a meeting. Your presence is mandatory." He sounded like he was trying to keep his tone flat but there was a hint of disapproval towards the end.

Connor groaned. "Meetings. Lovely." He said before pouting down at Alicia who was hacking and choking on blood and bits of teeth that she was trying to spit out. She looked downright pathetic and he hated he was going to have to leave her with only that. He'd been looking forward to so much more but duty was calling. He'd known what he was signing up for when he'd joined them. The dark lord came first for the time being.

"Looks like our time together here is done." He said and stared at her a moment longer before he lifted his foot and broke off a leg of the chair by stomping on it. She didn't look like she was aware of what was going on anymore. If he'd had it his way he would have given her time to rest and pick it back up when she came around. But he had other things to attend to. He leaned down and picked up the broken chair leg and brought the sharp jagged tip down into her chest with a grunt.

A pitiful groan followed by a whimper was all she gave up to him as blood began to pool around the piece of wood. "Two down." He whispered as he watched the light fade from her eyes.

When he stood again he let out a long exhale and approached the young man who was staring at him with a look of disapproval. Connor smiled and lifted a bloody gloved hand and patted him on the cheek. "Be a dear and drop that somewhere it'll be found." He said and passed him to exit the room.

While wandering the halls Connor's head was filled with thoughts of how Eliza would react to the news her friend was dead. So soon after taking Victor from her he imagined she'd be gripped with grief. It was her own fault for not taking him seriously. There was no more time for fun and games and he didn't want her to have a single moment of peace. His aim was to twist and morph her thoughts to revolve around him the way his did around her. He wanted her afraid to sleep only to wake to news of another of her loved ones taken from the world.

As he approached the long table his eyes slid over the figures sitting around it. Many of them were much older than him but that didn't bother him whatsoever. Their faces were tight with anxiety, eyes flickering to the creature sitting at the head of the table. To call him a man would be a stretch as he looked nothing of the sort. No wonder his subjects looked so wired.

Voldemort's eyes met his and he bowed deeply before he was bid to sit. The amount of ceremony and manners was a little outrageous to him but he played along as he knew how. His eyes flickered to a particularly tense face across the table. The man's lips were drawn in a line and as Connor took in his appearance the man wrinkled his nose at him.

He tilted his head slightly wondering just what the man was thinking. What was he seeing? Maybe he was registering a threat and trying to cover it with arrogance. He looked the type. Connor's smile was slow as he stared back at the man until he was addressed.

"I understand that before joining our ranks you murdered both of your parents." Voldemort's tone was light and curious. He'd been expecting more of an interrogation but so far there hadn't been much of a question only overly curious stares.

Connor finally tore his gaze from the coward across the table to make eye contact with the dark lord. He inclined his head in a nod. "I did."

At his honestly the creature smiled, his teeth yellow and a bit jagged. "Tell me, dear boy. Why?" He asked. Connor noticed he had an odd habit of talking with his hands. They were boney and slender giving him an air of grotesque grace as he settled them on the table.

"They were weak." He said simply. He'd shared very few words with the 'man' upon his return. Not that he wanted one but getting an audience with him was nearly impossible. He wondered if he was supposed to feel honored to be in his presence. The way his followers revered him spoke to that effect but Connor kept his mask intact knowing his place for the time being.

Voldemort's smile faded a bit. "The weak can still serve." He said gesturing around the table. Connor had to fight to keep from laughing at the way he was so willing to insult those who did his bidding. The power he had over them was impressive but Voldemort was impressive in most aspects.

"They would have turned tail and run at the first sign of trouble." He explained. While that may have been a bit of stretching of the truth they were weak. He kept the lie as close to the truth as possible.

The creature narrowed his gaze at him and Connor had the distinct feeling he was being analyzed. "And you would not?" The question was quiet, his tone soft and there was something off-putting about it. It made it difficult to follow his emotional spectrum and his reptilian features didn't help that any.

Connor shook his head and the 'man' kept his gaze on him steady for a long moment before moving around the table. His hand swept in front of him toward his followers. "I think there are few at this table who would doubt it."

There it was. What was so hard about getting to the point? Why all the theatrics and games? It was boring. "Then let them speak." Connor pulled his wand out and set it on the table casually. If there was to be a challenge then he would meet it head on. "I'm new within the ranks but as I've heard they were nowhere to be found until you summoned them." His eyes took in the faces once more as some of them twisted in anger at being called out.

"Foolish child!" Snapped one, spit nearly flying out of his mouth.

"Turncoat." Connor replied.

"You know not what you speak of." Another said with the tone of one talking to a child.

"Coward." He tapped his index finger on the table.

"He's only interested in his own agenda." Spoke a woman who'd been sitting quietly with an air of superiority. "Just look at how he carries on." She said pointing out the dried blood on his clothing.

Connor looked down at his once white shirt and shrugged. "My agenda doesn't concern you and has nothing to do with my business here." He plucked at the fabric. He could have cleaned up before attending but he found no reason to hide some of the nastier aspects of his nature. Not here. With how many killers were sitting around the table it was ridiculous that any of them would turn their noses up. Maybe they didn't like getting their hands dirty.

"Blood-thirsty dog." The man who spoke up was the same he'd locked eyes with when he'd first entered. He was a slimy-looking man with long platinum hair and the way he looked down his nose when he spoke made Connor want to dig his eyes out with his bare hands. Once again he made eye contact with him. He imagined doing wonderfully terrible things to him.

A chuckle sounded from a few seats away from him and Greyback basically purred at the insult. Giving him Alicia's girlfriend felt like it bonded them a bit. Or at least it gave the beast a modicum of respect for him. He had no doubts in his mind that the beast would tear him apart if it so chose but for now it seemed there was a tiny spark of comradery between them. An understanding of one 'blood-thirsty dog' to another.

Connor sat forward in his seat a bit. "You're an oozing cunt bending over for the ministry." He said to the blonde man before turning his gaze back to Voldemort who looked amused at the back and forth. "I think in all your time away they've felt safe walking around like they're not losers suckling at the tit of mediocrity." Some might call him stupid for so openly challenging those older than him but he wasn't going to back down. There were only a select few in the room that he could fear and so far two of them appeared to enjoy him.

The blonde leaped to his feet but sat back down as Voldemort stood. He then motioned to the side towards the young man who'd summoned Connor to this meeting in the first place. In the next moment there were a few collective sharp intakes of breath as Alicia's body was put on display in the middle of the table. There were a few grunts of displeasure at the sight of her mangled form. Connor, however, didn't look away from the dark lord. "Is this part of your agenda?" Voldemort asked.

Connor inclined his head in the affirmative. "It was." It appeared he would have to dispose of his goods on his own. He had the perfect spot in mind.

"I see you can be ruthless. But can you be loyal?"