CHAPTER I-

PERSECUTION

Disclaimer: I own everything except Tom Riddle.

"Confess," the man's cold voice came snapping the woman in chains to reality. She had been dreaming about her days, days before this had happened. Tears sprung from her eyes and fell to the floor.

"Oh…So how is it possible that you witches," he spat the word out in venom, " can do something as humanely as cry?" Masterson said bringing the torch close to Selpath's face. In the torch's light he saw a haggard, pale looking woman, all traces of happiness and beauty removed. Her normally vibrant dark hair now hung loosely around her face, her eyes showed deep resignation.

"Confess now, Selpath Slytherin…we know you're a witch." Masterson said obstinately. "Or would you rather prefer a change of surroundings?" Masterson's laughter now rung around the whole dark room, seeming as if a hundred Mastersons were laughing at her. Selpath gazed at him through her teary eyes, wondering if she should just give up. She couldn't take it anymore. The torture these muggles had inflicted on her, it was worse than being hit by the Cruciatus Curse. Her hands had been cut off, she could never use a wand again. She winced as she remembered how they had slaughtered both her hands with an axe, slowly slicing them as if to increase the agony to the maximum extent. But could she break the Oath of Secrecy and betray her fellowmen. Could she?

Masterson noticed her violet eyes closely. He could see every thought that crossed her mind, those eyes said more than words could. He knew she would give up now. That she had survived until now surprised him. The other witches and wizards had given up their resolve as soon as they were tortured. Snapping their wands into half had taken most of their power away. Selpath was the only one who had survived. Her hope had certainly lessened but no amount of torment had made her give up. Suddenly a dim fire began to burn, steadily rising in the depths of her eyes. Masterson didn't have time to think as she spat on his face, "Never, you lousy muggle."

"Untie her." Mastersons' guards dragged her to a darkened room. Her eyes growing accustomed to the dark, she looked around in the emptiness. All she could see was a large chair that glimmered and shone strangely.

"Wondering why we've brought you here, piece of filth. You'll know soon," he said switching on the lights. Selpaths' heart froze. Right in the middle of the room stood an armchair. It had two inches long spiked needles poking out of every nook, corner and surface. A whimper escaped Selpath as she realized what she would be made to do. She would be forced to sit on that chair. It would be like sitting on a live hedgehog, she thought in a surprising moment of dry humor.

"Get up Selpath your new surroundings await you." Selpath body shook with sobs.

"Please, no…don't have mercy," Selpath choked out. This would be death. But not an easy one. She wished someone would finish her off with the Kedavra curse right there. Her pleas had no effect on Masterson, who ordered his guards to take off her clothes and put her on the chair. Ripping her clothes off, the guards dropped her on the chair. Selpath led out a blood-curdling scream.

It was pain as Selpath had never imagined. Her whole body collapsed as those hot needles pierced her naked flesh and blood seeped on the floor. Masterson laughed with triumph as Selpath Slytherin screamed with agony and shouted,

"I confess."

Tom Riddle, a boy of eleven woke with a start. Breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, his eyes widened as he realized what he had been dreaming about. "Wizard Torture," he whispered in the dark.