A/N: Err . . . um . . . well, I don't really know what to say about this
piece. It is very . . . weird. I decided to try my hand at this kind of
freaky-ish horror stuff. I would greatly appreciate it if you
review/flame/send cookies/send howlers/whatever! Thank you.
WARNINGS: SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH! And also kind of freaky/adult themes. Oh, and there's (a pathetic attempt at) horror. Yeah. Lots of it. Now, read on . . .
~ Tainted ~
***There is a boy standing in the middle of the room.
He has hair too light to be blonde, eyes too grey to be blue, a figure too skinny to be considered normal.
A sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy stands in the middle of his room, ragged pieces of cloth thrown carelessly around the floor.
The light is quite dim, but he either doesn't notice, or doesn't care.
His eyes are wide, and an emotion that can only be described as fear shines in them.
His clothing is torn. His shirt has been completely ripped off. It looks as if someone tried to rip it off too quickly, leaving scratch marks on his back, chest, arms and shoulders.***
Draco: (whimpers) Please no more. P-please. I . . . I don't know what you want from me.
***A scratching sound coming from the side of the room.
Draco turns around quickly.
Silence.
Another scratching sound, only this time, from the opposite side of the room.
Draco turns around quickly again.
Silence.***
Draco: No . . . n-no . . . please . . . no more . . . I . . . (voice breaks) I can't take anymore . . .
***Another scratching sound, coming from behind Draco.
Draco tenses, the skinniness of his frame all the more obvious, but doesn't turn.
Scratching continues, getting slightly louder.
Louder . . .
Louder . . .
Louder . . .***
Draco: (whispers) No.
***A flash of bright white light, blinding.
There is a figure huddled in the middle of the room. Sobbing.
Draco now has even more scratched covering his back. Bleeding.***
Draco: (sobbing quietly into his knees) No . . . no . . . no . . .
***Even thought it is completely dark, two red eyes appear behind him.***
Voice: (whispers) It is time . . . you must join me, my little one . . .
***Draco snaps his head up, tears streaming down his face silently.***
Draco: (barely audibly whispers) No, no, no, please, no . . .
Voice: (hisses softly) Yesss . . . you will get the mark . . . you have proved yourself worthy . . .
***A pasty white hand flops down onto Draco's shoulder. Draco tenses immediately, and curls up into a huddle again.***
Draco: No, no, no, no, no, no, no . . .
Voice: Yesss . . .
***A figure appears behind him. It is too grotesque to be considered human.
Two bright red eyes, glowing.
Slits for its nose like a snake, breathing heavily.
A thin line for a mouth, opening slightly.
Pasty white skin. Rotten. Dead.
It is Lord Voldemort.***
Draco: I can't, I can't, I can't, I don't want to . . .
***The creature behind the boy leans in and whispers into his ear, a snake- like tongue slightly flicking the boy's earlove.***
Voldemort: (whispers) You don't have a choice.
***The creature's hand starts slipping past Draco's shoulder, and over his chest.
It goes lower, lower, and lower . . .
The creature's mouth starts sucking on Draco's neck . . .
His hands quickly work on the boy's pyjama pants . . .
A gasp.
A cry.
A hideous moan.
A piercing scream.
Now all is silent apart from Draco's sobs that come out of his mouth every now and then, and Lord Voldemort's breathing as he comes down from his climax.***
Voldemort: (softly) You are dirty . . . tainted . . . what else can you do in life but join me?
Draco: (quietly) Never.
***The creature puts its pasty hand back on the shoulder of the boy he has just violated, squeezing tightly.***
Voldemort: You don't have a choice, my Dragon . . .
***A loud sob erupts from Draco's mouth, and he pushes the creature's arm off him, and turns around to look into its eyes.***
Draco: (sobs) I'm not your dragon! I'll never be yours, never! You can't make me get the Dark Mark, I'll never serve you! I won't!
***This is met by silence.
And suddenly, Lord Voldemort disappears.
He isn't here.
He isn't anywhere.
A scratch from the corner of the room.
Draco jumps around quickly, expecting to see him.
A scratch from a different corner of the room.
Draco jumps around again.***
Draco: (whispers) Is anyone there?
***A scratching sound coming from behind him.
It gets louder.
Louder.
Louder, and still Draco doesn't turn.
A snap behind him
Draco slowly turns around, and . . .
Flash of brilliant green light.
A skinny figure lying in the middle of the floor, with hair too light to be blonde, eyes too grey to be blue, open wide, as if permanently frozen in shock.
There is no one else there.
All is still.
All is silent.
Fade to black.***
WARNINGS: SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH! And also kind of freaky/adult themes. Oh, and there's (a pathetic attempt at) horror. Yeah. Lots of it. Now, read on . . .
~ Tainted ~
***There is a boy standing in the middle of the room.
He has hair too light to be blonde, eyes too grey to be blue, a figure too skinny to be considered normal.
A sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy stands in the middle of his room, ragged pieces of cloth thrown carelessly around the floor.
The light is quite dim, but he either doesn't notice, or doesn't care.
His eyes are wide, and an emotion that can only be described as fear shines in them.
His clothing is torn. His shirt has been completely ripped off. It looks as if someone tried to rip it off too quickly, leaving scratch marks on his back, chest, arms and shoulders.***
Draco: (whimpers) Please no more. P-please. I . . . I don't know what you want from me.
***A scratching sound coming from the side of the room.
Draco turns around quickly.
Silence.
Another scratching sound, only this time, from the opposite side of the room.
Draco turns around quickly again.
Silence.***
Draco: No . . . n-no . . . please . . . no more . . . I . . . (voice breaks) I can't take anymore . . .
***Another scratching sound, coming from behind Draco.
Draco tenses, the skinniness of his frame all the more obvious, but doesn't turn.
Scratching continues, getting slightly louder.
Louder . . .
Louder . . .
Louder . . .***
Draco: (whispers) No.
***A flash of bright white light, blinding.
There is a figure huddled in the middle of the room. Sobbing.
Draco now has even more scratched covering his back. Bleeding.***
Draco: (sobbing quietly into his knees) No . . . no . . . no . . .
***Even thought it is completely dark, two red eyes appear behind him.***
Voice: (whispers) It is time . . . you must join me, my little one . . .
***Draco snaps his head up, tears streaming down his face silently.***
Draco: (barely audibly whispers) No, no, no, please, no . . .
Voice: (hisses softly) Yesss . . . you will get the mark . . . you have proved yourself worthy . . .
***A pasty white hand flops down onto Draco's shoulder. Draco tenses immediately, and curls up into a huddle again.***
Draco: No, no, no, no, no, no, no . . .
Voice: Yesss . . .
***A figure appears behind him. It is too grotesque to be considered human.
Two bright red eyes, glowing.
Slits for its nose like a snake, breathing heavily.
A thin line for a mouth, opening slightly.
Pasty white skin. Rotten. Dead.
It is Lord Voldemort.***
Draco: I can't, I can't, I can't, I don't want to . . .
***The creature behind the boy leans in and whispers into his ear, a snake- like tongue slightly flicking the boy's earlove.***
Voldemort: (whispers) You don't have a choice.
***The creature's hand starts slipping past Draco's shoulder, and over his chest.
It goes lower, lower, and lower . . .
The creature's mouth starts sucking on Draco's neck . . .
His hands quickly work on the boy's pyjama pants . . .
A gasp.
A cry.
A hideous moan.
A piercing scream.
Now all is silent apart from Draco's sobs that come out of his mouth every now and then, and Lord Voldemort's breathing as he comes down from his climax.***
Voldemort: (softly) You are dirty . . . tainted . . . what else can you do in life but join me?
Draco: (quietly) Never.
***The creature puts its pasty hand back on the shoulder of the boy he has just violated, squeezing tightly.***
Voldemort: You don't have a choice, my Dragon . . .
***A loud sob erupts from Draco's mouth, and he pushes the creature's arm off him, and turns around to look into its eyes.***
Draco: (sobs) I'm not your dragon! I'll never be yours, never! You can't make me get the Dark Mark, I'll never serve you! I won't!
***This is met by silence.
And suddenly, Lord Voldemort disappears.
He isn't here.
He isn't anywhere.
A scratch from the corner of the room.
Draco jumps around quickly, expecting to see him.
A scratch from a different corner of the room.
Draco jumps around again.***
Draco: (whispers) Is anyone there?
***A scratching sound coming from behind him.
It gets louder.
Louder.
Louder, and still Draco doesn't turn.
A snap behind him
Draco slowly turns around, and . . .
Flash of brilliant green light.
A skinny figure lying in the middle of the floor, with hair too light to be blonde, eyes too grey to be blue, open wide, as if permanently frozen in shock.
There is no one else there.
All is still.
All is silent.
Fade to black.***