Warning contains some mention of rape in this chapter as it is necessary to establish the plot of the story. Don't read if you feel uncomfortable with this.

Tom Riddle was a man with several obsessions. His primary obsession was power and control and to dominate by any means necessary whether that was people, creatures, or life itself preferably whilst causing as much pain as possible to a world that hated and feared those like him.

This obsession to dominate would lead him to fulfil what he considered to be his life's purpose. He would break free of the shackles that bound ordinary wizards and gather to him an army of loyal followers who would serve him without question until he had enough manpower to seize control of the wizarding world and shape it to fit his vision.

Under his control, the wizarding world would be restored to its former glory with purebloods wizards restored to their proper place dominating over the lesser wizards, and half-bloods as his ancestor Salazar Slytherin had dreamed of, and with such a force at his control, he would finally be able to cleanse and purify the world of the filth that was muggles.

To this end, he started working on his grand plan whilst still a student at Hogwarts. He was naturally good-looking, charming, charismatic, and a natural leader. He had no interest in friends but he knew the right things to say to groom egos and win the loyalty of his fellows, and he held them rapt as he spoke of his vision of a better world for wizard kind, a world which most of his Slytherin housemates supported where purebloods were restored to their proper place. By the time he had graduated, he already had a loyal group of followers with younger students being groomed to follow.

However, something else plagued him, which could still derail his plans for domination, his almost paranoid fear of death. As long as he was mortal, there was always a risk of him dying that was not a risk he was willing to take. To that end, he spent much of his time as a student searching for a way to become immortal. It was a simple matter to use his natural charm to sweet talk his teachers into writing him a pass to the restricted section in the library where he devoured tome after tome on increasingly dark magic, which served his ends nicely, knowledge, after all, was power and there was no magic more powerful than the dark arts. Eventually, his perusal of the dark arts texts paid off when he read about creating Horcruxes in an obscure text, and after a magnificent bit of acting on his part to sweet talk his head of house into clarifying a few minor details, he was finally ready to put his plan into action.

One positive result of his research was that he had learnt a great deal about the four founders including Salazar Slytherin and a thorough search of the castle had eventually led to him stumbling upon the concealed entrance to Slytherin's hidden chambers and the discovery of his ultimate monster the Basilisk a beast which he could use to his own ends to purge the school of muggleborns using his most noble and rare gift of parseltongue to communicate his instructions to the beast.

Unfortunately, his plans nearly backfired dramatically on him when the beast forced the Headmaster to consider closing the school to keep the students safe from the monster that was going around petrifying students and killed a Ravenclaw student. Faced with that disastrous possibility he was forced to shift the blame onto someone else and the filthy half-giant Hagrid fit the bill perfectly, the bumbling oaf was powerless to do anything about the fact that he was being framed even though they both knew the Acromantula he was harbouring could not be responsible for petrifying the students it was fortunately enough to satisfy the idiot of a Headmaster for long enough to take the attention away from him so he could call off the Basilisk. He felt no remorse, good riddance to the weak and to filth like the half-giant.

The one big thing to come out of it was that the death of the student provided him with what he needed to create his first Horcrux. With fresh blood staining his soul he descended to Slytherin's secret chamber the perfect setting to perform the darkest of dark magic rituals. As he completed the incantation, he screamed as he felt a painful ripping sensation as his soul was torn in two but just as quickly it ended. He smiled an evil grin as he produced his intended vessel, an old leather diary he had used to record his most secret thoughts and desires which would now be the living embodiment of his very being in more ways than one, it was perfect, who would ever guess that something so innocuous looking could hold something so dark as a soul fragment. He felt a thrilling surge of power rush through him as he transferred the Horcrux into its intended vessel, this feeling was addictive. He was satisfied for now and yet he knew it was not enough, he longed to create more and he knew in his own obsessive way that he would need to create more to ensure his own immortality.

Over the coming years, he had much time to plan as he built a loyal army of devoted followers and he came to the realisation that there must be a better way of creating a Horcrux than using an inanimate book. He decided that a living vessel would make a better Horcrux, he toyed briefly with the idea of using an animal but dismissed the idea as a none starter. What he really needed was a human the perfect living vessel to house a piece of his soul, not just anyone though but one of his own flesh and blood, a ready-made heir created for the sole purpose of continuing his line, it would be the perfect solution, the perfect experiment.

The only trouble now was to find the perfect woman to act as a vessel to carry his child, not that that was a problem with an increasing following and word spreading of his status as a powerful young wizard and future lord he would have no trouble finding an array of suitable young pureblood witches eager to please him and sire his children it was just a question of finding the right one he thought smiling evilly at the prospect.

The solution to his problem revealed itself surprisingly easily in the form of a young Slytherin several years younger than himself. She was perfect for his purposes, quiet and meek, obedient to her parents, intelligent but not free-thinking, with good grades all round, talented in potions, well versed in the dark arts and a champion gobstones player although he could have done without the last as he considered the game rather disgusting and vulgar.

The girl was of good lineage descended from the Prince line, an ancient and noble house well versed in the dark arts with a history of producing powerful wizards and strong ties to Salazar Slytherin it was rumoured that the line went even further back to Merlin himself.

She would be the perfect vessel to carry on his bloodline and produce a strong heir and perhaps most importantly she was young enough that her parents had not yet formalised an arranged marriage for her. Fortunately, he was skilled in the mind arts and very persuasive and it was a simple enough matter to convince her parents with just a bit of subtle prodding and manipulation that he was the best match for their daughter, that he was a powerful wizard descended from a little known but ancient line of pure bloods and an influential future lord, that he was good marriage material and would be a caring and attentive husband before they happily agreed to his proposition not that he had any intention of marrying her.

So it was that he was waiting for the young woman when she graduated and before she knew what was happening he grabbed her wrist firmly and apparated her away to a dingy building near an old industrial town called Cokesworth. He could feel the fear radiating off her as she resisted his advances but he would not be deterred. He was the perfect picture of calm, ruthless efficiency, this was not about pleasure, she was his and she would understand her place, he was dominant. He pushed and forced himself upon her until two became one again and again ignoring her screams and pleas for him to stop, he cared not for her and he would continue until he was certain he had succeeded or she could give no more and understood her place. He paused only briefly to check the spell he had cast to tell him when he had achieved success and produced a strong heir; he stopped only when he was certain that he had indeed succeeded in his goal.

He left her in the dinghy place after obliviating her and placing certain compulsion charms on her. He cared not for her, she was nothing more to him than a vessel for his unborn child and heir.

Author's notes:

So this is somewhat darker than my usual stories, I'm not exactly good at or comfortable with writing scenes of a sexual nature but I decided that there were some points in the story when it was necessary so I hope it came across ok. Some people may have got an idea now where I'm going with this but I'm saying nothing.