The Night Comes Calling~

Voldemort's Body

Chapter One



A/N: This is my very first fic so only constructive criticism. I'll keep on writing if the reviews are good.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters that you recognise



Tom Riddle staggered into the one-roomed hut clutching his head. He lay down on the ripped and torn couch, trying to ease the pain. After a while he felt well enough to get up and eat something.

"Blood! Blood, you want to eat blood!" said a tiny voice inside his head

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he screamed, hysterical.

Almost every day now that tiny voice inside his head was growing stronger, and louder, and harder to refuse.

"How do you know what I want!" he shrieked into the night.

"I'm you," said the voice. "I always know your deepest thoughts of wrong, your most revolting deeds of evil."

"NO! You're nothing like me. You're NOT me. I have done no evil, not of the kind you speak of."

"Ah, but you have! Or is that blood on your robes just ink?"

Tom looked down and saw to his revulsion that there was in fact blood on his robes, thick red blood. Only he didn't remember spilling it, and he had no idea who it belonged to. This sight made Tom want to vomit, and he did.

"Look at you," said the voice in utter repugnance. "You weak disgusting worm. You've gone and done the noble work of Lord Voldemort and you vomit."

Voldemort. Tom had heard many whispering's of his name as he walked down the street. And now that he thought about it people seemed to be avoiding him, casting terrified looks at him.

"What's happening to me?" he moaned, "I don't understand."

"You are the chosen one, boy, the mighty Lord Voldemort has chosen you to be his earthly body."

"But who IS this Voldemort?" he asked in a terrified whisper, but not needing to ask because he already knew the answer.

"He is the Dark Angel, he is you."

From then on the days got shorter and shorter, the cold terrifying nights longer and longer. And more often than not Tom came home to find blood on his robes and not remembering where he'd been or what he'd done. Tom was dying and Voldemort was growing stronger with every passing day. Also Tom's appearance began to change. His eyes were becoming narrower and his nose was reduced almost to slits, like a snakes. He had to find someone who could help him. A relative, someone, anyone. Then he remembered his nephew, his only living relative. Sirius Black.



A/N: So? What do you think? PLEASE review. Sorry it's a bit short