"Man That You Fear" is copyright Marilyn Manson. Hogwarts, Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, and all other characters, save the ones you don't recognize, Copyright J.K. Rowling.
Man That You Fear
He stood in the shadows, watching the disgusting little ants move around the school grounds. From his place in the forbidden forest, his weak form was completely hidden from the prying eyes of the unsuspecting cretins. His snake like eyes held nothing but disgust and contempt as he looked at them, so happy, not a care in the world. How he hated them and their happiness, their friendships. There was once a time when he knew such carefree ways, when he had friends, one friend in particular stuck in his mind. A few tears came to his eyes as he recalled those lost days. He disappeared once more into the shadows, left to his own memories.
The ants are in the sugar,
The muscles atrophied.
We're on the other side,
The screen is us and we're T.V.
Spread me open,
Sticking to my pointy ribs,
Are all your infants in abortion cribs.
I was born into this,
Everything turns to shit.
The boy that you loved is the man that you fear.
The dark haired boy walks silently through the nearly empty halls of the school. He wasn't necessarily the happiest of all, but he was contented. He had his small but adequate group of friends, he was one of the top students in his first year class. Things looked good for him in this new school. He may not have been the most popular in the school, but he was liked by some… maybe even loved. He had never had any good friends, so this was a change. He never even suspected what the future would bring, nor did he have any idea of the power awaiting to awaken deep in his soul.
Pray until you're number,
Asleep from all your pain,
He sat in the library, with his friends, looking over his Transfiguration homework. His grades had been slipping lately, although he couldn't quite understand why. His temper had also been slipping lately, just last week he had almost killed a Gryffindor first year who had called him a nasty name. All in all, second year was off to a pretty bad start. It didn't matter really. He still had his friends and he still had his good name. He was, after all, Tom Riddle, and that meant something.
Your apple has been rotting,
Tomorrows turned up dead.
I have it all and I have no choice but to.
I'll make everyone pay and you will see.
You can kill yourself now,
Because you're dead in my mind.
The boy that you loved,
Is the monster you fear.
It was half-way into his third year when it happened. The voices had already started, but he had been able to ignore them pretty well. That was before he found out what had been going on behind his back. He had been in the Slytherin Common Room, sitting by the fire and writing in his journal, apparently unseen by the others. He overheard his so called friends talking in a corner behind him, talking about him. They were saying how much they actually disdained poor Thomas and had only been friends with him for this long out of pity. Reggie, his "best friend" had even been trying to get Tom's girlfriend, Raven, into bed. The voices began to whisper once again, and for the first time, he listened. He got to his feet slowly, laying his journal down on the chair. He drew his wand and turned on his "friends". a soft curse was muttered and Reggie fell to the floor…. Dead.
Peel off all those eyes,
And crawl into the dark.
You've poisoned all your children,
To camouflage your scars.
Year Four, start of term. The Murder of Reggie had been covered up very well by the headmaster of the school and the Minister of Magic. They didn't want to bring a scandal to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. But all the cover ups in the world cannot erase the memories of what had happened from Tom's fellow students. He quickly became an outcast, feared among the other students. At first he didn't like it, but slowly he came to realize that this fear gave him power. He came to revel in the joys of being alone, at the frightened looks from the others. He grew to need it, want it, like a heroin addict who needs that one last hit.
Pray unto the splinters,
Pray unto your fear,
Pray your life was just a dream,
The cut that never heals.
Pray now baby,
Pray your life was just a dream.
Fifth year. Our boy had begun to spend his time alone in the library, reading up on the history of the Dark Arts and it's practitioner. He really wanted to look into the trove of ancient information held within the tomes locked behind the gates of the restricted section. One night, after the rest of the castle lay sleeping safely in their beds, he did just that. With the aid of his invisibility cloak, and the guidance of the hissing voices in his head, he slipped beneath the chains of the restricted section of the library. For the rest of the night, he sat in a quiet corner, reading.
( I am so tangled in my sins that I cannot escape)
He read of dark wizards long since passed, of forbidden spells and secret societies. The whole time, the hissing voices whispering to him. Telling him he could surpass them all. Telling him he could be the greatest of all time, and the he, Tom Riddle, could make all of them pay. He could make all of the insects who treated him so awfully pay for their crimes. A smile twisted gruesomely upon his lips and he vowed that he would, indeed, make them all pay.
Pinch the head off,
Collapse me like a weed,
Someone had to go this far.
I was born into this,
Everything turns to shit.
The boy that you loved,
Is the man that you fear.
He sat in the library alone, he didn't even bother with the pretense of the invisibility cloak, he just took what he needed from the restricted section. No one ever tried to stop him, they were all to afraid, even the faculty. The dark powers that were once dormant within him were now coming forth with brutal fury. If anyone dared cross him, he made quick work of them, either hitting them with the dreaded Crucio charm or worse, Aveda Kadavra, the killing curse. There was no one in this pathetic school who would even dare try and stop him. All of his research had concluded that his bloodline carried this dark power down to him through the generations. This was indeed his birthright. He was a sixth year now, less than two years left of schooling, less than two years to hone his dark powers and to destroy them all. Tom Riddle was well on the path to becoming the most feared of all dark wizards, so renowned for his acts of evil that he couldn't be named. He was on his way to becoming Lord Voldemort.
Peel off all those eyes,
And crawl into the dark.
You've poisoned all your children,
To camouflage your scars.
Pray unto the splinters,
Pray unto your fear,
Pray your life was just a dream,
The cut that never heals.
Pray now baby,
Pray your life was just a dream.
Seventh year, and everything was falling into place. He was feared, and his powers had grown to consume any light that was left in him. What was once a kind and loving heart had now become blackened with hate. His bright, wondering eyes, now became snake like and spiteful. Come graduation, only half of the graduating class remained. He had destroyed all of those who had scorned him, all that stood in his way, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to make all of them suffer…. Make them feel the pain he had lived with for all of those years. It was time to bring the sheep to the slaughter. And oh, what a glorious slaughter it would be.
The world in my hands,
There's no one left to hear you scream……..
There's no one left for you.