Notes:

Hello!

I am back again. I finished writing this chapter with the last chapter, and I just added a bit to the end. I'm just trying to wrap up the last book. So I can get into the real stuff I had planned for this book.

Oh yeah, this is the bad chapter, like the Mature chapter...violence, and shit...I'm sorry it's sad...but not too bad...I'm just being careful.

Anywho if ya don't like torture skip the first half or skim it or something. IDK.

I will post one more chap on Halloween and then work on my other stories. I'll probably work on this story more, anyway.

/

Morgana was not always so psychotic and crazy. Morgan was not evil nor crazy nor a murderer in any sense, but she was a bit cutthroat in that she had to establish a place in the world for herself as she was all alone by the age of 17. She worked her way up the business ladder through hard work and effort and had to be self-confident and persuasive and someone in charge.

And Morgana was someone who went through traumatic experiences and dealt with dangerous and terrible things on a daily basis after she figured out she had magic. The combined experience of both Morgan and Morgana just clashed into this new hybrid of a monster.

The fact that Morgan wanted to know what Morgana knew and to be more powerful to defeat Emrys, she went nuts. After not being able to attract the attention of Nimueh, she felt like things were going wrong for her, and she started to panic, but instead of freaking out, she studied more dangerous things.

She was learning curses so quickly, and she was trying to remember things of her past. Her magic was progressing even greater after the fight with Nimueh.

Morgana had come to the realization that she was far too weak. She was someone who couldn't beat Nimueh nor Voldemort, and there was no way she was going to be able to face Emrys if she couldn't fight them. After coming to that realization, she went even crazier. She didn't understand why Emrys and Nimueh were so adept at old magic. She didn't understand how she could be so far behind, and that thought pushed her forward into doing terrible things.

Voldemort was known to be a horrible, horrible person, but the things that Morgana was thinking of doing made her seem even worse if that could even be possible.

July 15, 2007

Morgana had captured Mordred a few days ago and had locked him in her room. She made Draco help her to brew some potions just in case things went wrong, and the next day she confronted Mordred.

Morgana walked into the room alone and locked the door so no one would peek in. She watched Mordred lie on her bed, still out of it. He looked the same as in the past, maybe a bit different as his hair was straightened and he was in designer clothes.

Morgana leaned in and lightly slapped his face.

"Wakey, wakey!" Morgana said to a barely conscious Mordred.

"Huh? Mmmhmm AHHH!" Mordred screams, not recognizing Morgan or where he was.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Mordred looked spooked.

"Relax! Please, Mordred, I mean you no harm. It's me, Morgana." Morgan said, looking optimistic.

But Mordred had no memories of his past life nor of the witch in front of him. He was reincarnated, but his memories never returned to him.

Morgan was frustrated.

"Why aren't you remembering? That bitch remembered right away...hmm...maybe I should help?" Morgan mumbled.

She picked up her wand and pointed it at Mordred. Mordred looked at her like she was nuts.

"Listen, lady, I don't know who you are, but this isn't right. Look, if you are a fan, I'll take a photo or a video with you. I'll sign anything you want. But how about letting me go in return, no hard feelings, okay?" Mordred said, trying to reason with the crazy witch.

But Morgana ignored him and held the wand higher and more confidently.

While fighting with Nimueh, Morgana had gotten a sizable burn on her arm, and whenever she thought of Nimueh, it hurt, and it fueled her anger even more. She was going off the rails, and right now, the target of her madness was the poor muggle actor, Mordred, in front of her.

"No. You will remember. Even if it's by force." Morgan said, smiling.

Mordred backed up to a corner of the room, looking scared.

"Don't worry, Mordred. You were once my most trusted ally, and soon you will be again, rejoice; you'll have magic again." Morgan said, casting a mind curse on Mordred, trying to stimulate his past life memories.

Mordred screamed.

Morgana was by no means a pro at this spell, and if you weren't a pro at it when you used it, it would hurt the person's mind you were trying to enter into. And while this method would probably work in the long run, there would be side effects. And the damage that would be done to Mordred would be irreversible.

But Morgana was so far gone that she didn't care about all that she just wanted things to go her way for once. She didn't care who she had to kill, torture, or hurt to get what she wanted.

The method Morgana was using was to go into Mordred's mind and dig for his past memories. And these were not surface thoughts. They were something in the far reaches of his memory that were even older than his childhood memories. It would take a lot of looking around and digging to find them.

This method works, but it would be torture. Very, very, very, very, very, very painful torture.

But Morgana didn't care to think about that.

No, not even from listening to the screams ripping from poor Mordred's mouth did she stop.

Not even as he started to cry did she stop.

Not even when blood started to pour out his nose did she stop.

Only when he fell unconscious did she stop sighing, annoyed.

But even when that happened, she didn't stop all the way.

She would simply grab a potion she had made the previous day, pour it into Mordred's mouth, healing him and waking him only to start it again.

She would heal him only to torture him again. And this would go on for several days. Several excruciating days for Mordred.

While Morgana got up and left to eat and socialize, she left Mordred in the room with nothing, chained to her bed. It was a miracle that he even survived what she had put him through.

The first two days, he pleaded for her to stop.

"Stop! Please, I don't remember whatever it is you want me to remember, but please stop. It hurts so much! My head feels like it's splitting in half. Oh god, no more!" Mordred screamed, begging Morgana to stop.

But Morgana paid no mind picking up her wand again.

"This is happening until you remember. So stop whining." She said, casting the spell again.

For the next two days, Mordred just cried. Either from the pain or the realization that he was going to die because Morgana was crazy.

"Morgana, right? Just let me go, please. If you stop, I'll do anything." Mordred said as tears ran down his cheeks.

Morgana was no longer affected by the crying nor the begging, not that she ever seemed to be, but her face was blank like she hadn't been torturing him for four days straight.

"If you would remember, this would stop. But as long as you don't, this will continue. I don't care if it takes months. So shut up and remember already." Morgana screamed, annoyed.

By the next two days, more precisely the sixth day of this ongoing cycle of torture, Mordred woke up one healing session remembering Morgana. And little by little, the rest of that day, all of his past memories recovered.

However, due to the terrifying nature of the spell used and the cruel methods and continuous uses of the spell, it seemed to have left him almost incapable of remembering anything else but the past. He had all of his memories of what happened in Camelot and everything else around that time, but any of his more recent memories or his new life was completely gone. That was one of the side effects of the spell; it wouldn't have been so severe if Morgana hadn't done what she had done. Now Mordred was purely Mordred of the past; he had no recollection of anything in the future. He was also a little malnourished and sick because of the treatment he was put through, but that was something that at least could be fixed.

Though the one fortunate factor in all of this was that since he forgot his present life, he also was lucky enough to be able to forget the torture. His body still felt the effects of it, but he had no recollection of it ever happening.

Morgana had no qualms about him forgetting his future self. She agreed that her future self made her weaker, and she thought that it would be better if Mordred didn't remember anyway. She liked the old Mordred much better anyway. Not that she ever knew the new one, though.

"Mordred, welcome back." Morgana smiled.

"Morgana...how?" Mordred asked the voice horse from the screaming he couldn't remember having done.

"You reincarnated. Now we can finally have our revenge. We can finally kill Emrys!" Morgana yelled excitedly.

Finally, she would have an ally to help her, she thought.

Mordred, however, had other ideas.

Mordred frowned.

He didn't want to do that. He remembered his mistake. How he had damned the fate of a prosperous magical future that was to come. He vowed never to go against Emrys again as he died. He saw his strength on the battlefield; he knew he messed up in the past and didn't wish to repeat it. Mordred was angry in the past, and he felt his anger was justified, but he believed in the moments of his death that maybe he had made a mistake. And that thought had haunted him right up until he died.

"Morgana...I...can't help you. My loyalty is to you, there is no doubt, but I can't help you with Emrys. I can't. Not again." Mordred said, grimacing and closing his eyes.

Morgana had a blank look on her face. It was complete emptiness. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Mordred had betrayed her. Emrys was stealing him too...no...NO!

Morgana's face shifted suddenly. It was a frightening kind of change, but the warm and kind smile on her face led Mordred to believe that nothing was wrong. She smiled a kind smile. A fake smile.

"Mordred." Mordred looked up to see the warm face.

"Don't worry; you are my family. You don't have to fight Emrys if you don't want to. It fine. Let's heal you, and we can discuss our future, okay?" Morgana said, turning around and picking up another healing potion.

Though this one looked different. It wasn't the warm orange color of the other ones he had been drinking. This one was a murky black and red one. But since he had no recollection of the torture nor the healing potions, he didn't know the difference.

So unbeknownst to him, he drank poison, but not poison to kill him no, that wouldn't satisfy Morgana and what she wanted to do. It was a different kind of poison, a poison that would make him do what he did not want to do. Yet Mordred accepted the bottle smiling as he drank.

Morgana mimicked his smile, watching him drink the Gregory's Unctuous Unction potion she had brewed two days ago. It was a particular potion to ensure friendship between them.

Though Morgana was thinking that wasn't enough, she thought she would need more than just friendship. Something stronger. But for now, this should do.

Mordred would not join Emrys...even if she had to kill him.

Morgana smiled at Mordred, and he smiled back at his best friend.

A Fancy Muggle Apartment

June 24, 2007

"Ughhh." Lance groaned, waking up.

It was his day off, and he had slept in late but not peacefully at all. Ever since that car accident, he was having nightmares, and they only got worse since meeting that long hair devil of a man. The nightmares grew worse tenfold since meeting him, and he had had enough. The man, Gwaine, had been texting him non-stop since their meeting. He was telling him to meet up or to go somewhere, but Lance had been doing a good job of ignoring him. But he consistently told him to come to this particular address if he remembered or something.

Lance's plan was to go there today, confront Gwaine, then tell him to stop this shit from happening. Clearly, Gwaine knew all about it from their last conversation, Lance thought. So he should help this shit stop. Marc tried to get him not to interact with the 'crazy people' anymore, but he was determined to live a normal life.

Marc, who seemed to know his boss too well, was waiting outside his apartment when Lance exited the building.

"Marc?!" Lance asked, shocked and as if he was caught red-handed stealing cookies out of a cookie jar.

"Thought you said you were gonna spend your day off catching up on sleeping? Boss, don't tell me you're meeting those psychopaths?" Marc asked with a face that said, 'I'm tired of your shit.'

"I'm just getting some shopping done." Lance lied badly.

"Mmhmm sure, lemme come along. I need to as well." Marc said, hoping in Lance's car.

Lance sighed,

"Marc, I'm an adult I can meet with other people and handle it on my own," Lance said, not keeping up with the lie.

"I would believe you, boss, if you weren't going to go meet some psychopaths right now just because they said 'they had the same dream as you.' They-are-stalking-you-and-trying-to-use-you-to-get-money. I am not going to let you go get killed by psychopaths or get blackmailed as your good friend." Marc said, clapping, enunciating each point in that sentence.

Lance sighed deeply and just started driving after putting the address in the GPS of his car.

Marc smiled, satisfied that he wasn't kicked out. He also patted his briefcase, which held a taser and pepper spray, because he didn't trust those people at all.

Merlin's House

Two hours later, from driving from the city to the countryside, they finally made it to the address that Lance put in his GPS.

To say the least, they were very surprised at the meet-up location. Considering Marc had assumed that they were scamming Lance for money, he assumed they were going to live in a dirt hut in the middle of nowhere. But this house, rather mansion, was not what he had in mind. And neither was the Rolls-Royce in his driveway.

Marc's expectations were blown out of the park even though he still didn't trust this whole interaction. Because if it wasn't for money, it still didn't make any fucking sense. Actually, it made less sense if they weren't trying to scam him. Because otherwise, they were involved in some kind of dream nightmare cult thing, and they somehow got Lance to drink the kool-aid. Which was very alarming if that was the case.

Marc almost didn't want to get out of the car with that thought in mind.

But once Lance parked and got out, he didn't seem to have a choice. They walked up to the mansion and, for a brief moment, hesitated on knocking on the door. Marc was actually trying to convince Lance not to knock on the door and just to go back home, but it was a futile attempt as a few minutes later, Lance just knocked on the door, preparing himself to meet Gwaine once again.

But what neither of them was prepared for again was a beautiful woman that answered the door. She was very pretty, and it made more sense that she lived here than that Gwaine lived there.

Lance even thought he got the wrong address because of how beautiful she was and his conception of who Gwaine was in his head.

"Uhhh, hi," Lance said, stunned as his brain didn't work for a second.

"Hello," Nimueh said, looking at the two men, confused.

"Are you here for Emrys? Because he's not home." Nimueh said.

"Emrys? No, I think I have the wrong house. Haha, I'm looking for a bloke named Gwaine," Lance said, embarrassed that he was at the wrong place.

"Wait, Gwaine? He doesn't live here; if he told you he did, he was lying. He lives... in the city...uh...London, I think. But if you were looking for him, what is it that you wanted to talk to him about? I could call him here or maybe help you." Nimueh said as she forgot what the city was called, and as she was talking to Lance, she noticed he was a reincarnation by the way the magic was fluctuating in the air.

Lance was shocked again, and he was shocked that this was the right house; he was also shocked that Gwaine had lied and didn't live here though in retrospect, he never said he did, and he was also shocked that this lady assumed she could help, which was to mean that she was also in on the stupid nightmare shit.

Well, that was if she could help.

For Marc, the more that he listened to the conversation, the more that he believed that this was a cult and that something very fishy was going on here. And if they didn't start asking for money soon, he was going to pepper spray them and grab Lance and run.

He felt like he was getting involved in something very sketchy but for all different and wrong reasons.

"Uh well...this uh...how should I put it? Do you know about the nightmares?" Lance asked, not wanting to sound crazy.

"Nightmares? No, what about them?" Nimueh asked; since she was reborn, she never had any terrible nightmares remembered in her past life. So she had no idea what they were talking about.

"Ah, well, I think you can't help me then," Lance said, embarrassed to talk about it because it would make him sound crazy to someone who didn't know.

Marc feeling bad for his friend's struggle helped.

"We came here to talk to the guy Gwaine because he told my buddy Lance that the nightmares he was having about like medieval knights and stuff weren't nightmares but his past life or something stupid like that. My buddy Lance just wants to talk to him about it so the nightmares will stop and he can get back to his life. So, unfortunately, unless you could help with that, I think we need to talk to that guy, Gwaine." Marc explained.

Nimueh was silent for a second before answering.

"Oh. You came to the right place. Come in. I will call Emrys and Gwaine." Nimueh said, opening the door wide enough so they could come in.

Lance and Marc hesitated, but eventually, Lance walked in, feeling rude just standing there.

Marc did not want to enter but didn't want to abandon Lance.

Once inside, they were led down a hallway into the living room, and Nimueh told them to sit and walked off, grabbing something off a table and walking back into the room. She sat down on the couch next to Lance and Marc.

They both looked confused as there were so many other seats.

"Emrys told me to contact him using this," Nimueh said, holding up a phone.

"But I forget how it works. You are a Muggle, yes? You know how to use it." Nimueh handed the phone to Lance, who looked confused.

Marc was thinking of betting money on his cult thought at this point.

"Ah, I don't know what a Muggle is, but I do know how to use a phone. Let's see; you said...ah...Emrys...hmmm oh here." Lance said, looking through her contacts.

"I'll call it for you. Just put it up to your ear." Lance said, handing the phone back to Nimueh.

Nimueh did as instructed; she was starting to remember what Emrys had told her when he was explaining how to use it earlier this week. Of course, she never had a chance to use it, and she was more interested in reading magical books, so she just ignored it until she couldn't anymore, which was at this moment when she actually needed it. It rang three times before Merlin's voice filtered through.

"Nimueh? You finally got a hang of the phone, cool I'm glad you're learning. But uh, is something wrong, or do you need something?" Merlin asked as he was currently talking to Remus again after the day of the funeral.

They had gotten so busy that this was the first chance they could meet.

"Ah, well, we have guests," Nimueh said, not elaborating.

"Guests? Who? Leon and Bell? Gwen? Gwaine and Percival?" Merlin asked, listing the only people he assumed would visit.

"No. Uh, what are your names?" Nimueh asked.

Marc was wondering whether the girl was dumb or just naïve. He didn't understand how she let two strangers, who were men, into her house without even questioning what their names were.

"That's Marc, and I'm Lance," Lance said, feeling bad he never got the chance to introduce himself as everything about this situation was weird.

"Ah, they said Lance and Marc," Nimueh said.

"What!? Really? Oh, uh, I'll be right there. Make sure they don't leave, okay? I'll be there in a few." Merlin said, not expecting that.

"Alright, I will make sure they don't leave," Nimueh said, scaring Marc and Lance.

"Emrys is coming. Don't leave till he comes." Nimueh said, leaving the phone on the table and picking up a magical history book, and sitting down in another chair, ignoring the two guys to go back to reading.

Marc leaned over to Lance,

"This is totally a cult. I think we are doomed, Lance doomed." Marc said, finding the once beautiful lady now very creepy.

No matter how many times he looked at his own situation, this was clearly a cult. The fact that they won't let them leave is a big indicator. But also the fact that this girl doesn't know how to use a cell phone. Then the fact that they're all talking about nightmares and reincarnation and bullshit that shouldn't make any sense. And what's worse is the book that is in the girl's hand says magic on it. Nobody would be able to convince Marc that this wasn't a cult.

Lance was worried that Marc was right, but he was also terrified about himself because the nightmares were not fake. He had been having them so vividly every night for months now that if this was a cult thing when there was something truly not natural happening because how in the hell would they know about his nightmares? Were they the ones who caused it? And if they did, how the hell did they do that?

Lance was starting to wonder if he was going crazy or if this whole situation was some drugged-up situation that he somehow found himself in.

Even worse, in the very back of his mind, he was wondering if this had all been a long and weird nightmare and that maybe he was in a coma from the car crash; but he pinched his cheeks multiple times, trying to figure out if this was real life or a nightmare.

The worst part is he is still not sure.

/

Notes:

A bit short, but eh, what can you do?

Ahhh poor poor Mordred. I feel bad, but he killed Arthur, and I am still mad, so eh. Also, I love Marc; he's such a realist.

The problem with Mordred is that I wanted him to be a bad guy, but I couldn't figure out a way how he would realistically be a bad guy because I thought that he would have a change of heart like Nimueh. And technically, he does, however; unfortunately, he was picked up by the wrong person, and that person is a nutjob version of Morgan. Since the fight with nimueh, Morgan has become batshit crazy and is starting to turn more into Morgana than Morgan. Honestly, she's becoming something worse which is a combination of the two. I know some people wanted Mordred to be good, but he is going to be forced to be bad. I have had this idea for a while now, where Morgana would force him to be an ally. She's going to do a lot of shity and horrible things to Mordred in the future, so there's that.

I already know how the book will end, and I feel like I'm an evil person writing the story. It's terrible to be an author because you know how the character is created and how they live, and also how they die. *sigh* And it's even worse when they die horribly. I didn't like Dumbledore in my book, but I hated killing him; oh my God. And all the other deaths that I'm going to have to do later are going to suck. But this is my FanFiction; there are some people I'm not killing. I will save them one way or another.

Anyway, bye till Halloween!