A/N: For Prd2bAmerican18, who agrees with me that I have a very twisted mind. Thanks for noticing. And for Seta Keade, who I helped with her summary for her wonderful and interesting story 'The Silver Trio'.
Ah, finally inspiration, thanks to an episode of Buffy the vampire slayer. Normally I like to be as original as possible, even with cliché's, but this time I just couldn't help myself. I promise, if you like gore, you will love this.
At Death's DoorPart 9: Skin Demon
Rated: R
Warnings: GORE! Strong stomach needed and I mean really strong, seeing as even I got queasy visualizing it while writing this.
"All alone...." The haunting voice seemed to come from all around him, it was high pitched and the taunting singsong sentences were extremely unnerving. "Poor little lam, lost his flock....." It was echoing through the dungeon, making it impossible to tell where it came from.
"Who's there? Show yourself!!" Harry was starting to panic. His breathing was fast, he could feel his heart pounding in his ears and his eyes were shooting every which way, trying to find the threat in the complete dark of the stone hallway.
"All alone.... No one will find you here...."
It was coming from his right.... No behind him.... Damn he didn't know which way to run.
His wand had been flung away when the one that was haunting him brushed past him a few minutes ago and with it his lumos spell. He didn't dare go on his knees to find it, he would be even more vulnerable than he already was.
"Are you scared little boy?.... You should be...."
Oh god, oh god, oh god.... Dammit get a grip Potter, it's probably just a Slytherin playing a prank. At least that was what he tried to tell himself, but somehow it wasn't working. After all, this part of the dungeons was most likely unknown to even the most adventurous Slytherin.
"You can't run...."
So what the fuck was he doing here? He couldn't answer that question at that moment, his blood was pounding too loudly and his body seemed to be on sensory overload, even a breath of wind was enough to startle him. The fact that he couldn't see anything made this even worse, his heightened hearing making his own breathing sound alarmingly loud.
"You can't hide...."
"What do you want with me?!!" He shouted, his voice sounding much shriller than he had hoped.
"Oh...."
Suddenly something brushed by him again, but this time it was accompanied by a sharp pain in his abdomen, making him stumble back. Gasping for air he placed his hands where something had cut him. He could feel the torn skin and the flowing wetness which he knew to be blood even if he couldn't see it.
"So much skin....."
The mind consuming pain was burning and stinging and he could barely stay standing. His hands were desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but the liquid kept on seeping through his fingers, soaking his clothes, making them feel heavier.
"All alone.... No one to hear you scream.... Not that you'll be able to...." It tauntingly sang the last part.
Suddenly he really started to feel heavier, his legs wouldn't hold him and he slumped against the cold stones of a dungeon wall, slowly sinking to the ground. He tried to get up, but he couldn't. He was paralysed. The wound must have been poisoned. Besides not being able to move, nothing had changed, he was still completely lucid.
"No one will come for you.... Left you all alone...."
He could hear shuffling footsteps coming closer and a heart squeezing fear clamped up his chest. The next thing he knew a pair of hands, or more like claws as he could feel nails cutting in his skin, had grabbed his ankles and was dragging him away from the wall. After his head had painfully banged on the floor the hands took him a little further, but then stopped and let go.
"So much blood...."
Harry couldn't breath, he had never been this helpless, this vulnerable before. He could feel the creature, since he very much doubted that it was human, crawling past his feet, past his legs and the suddenly straddling his thighs. He still couldn't see anything and the darkness was closing in on him.
"Hungry...."
Tears of fear and frustration were forming in his eyes and he couldn't even blink them away. Even when he felt what could only be a mouth and tongue on the cuts on his belly, he couldn't fight, all that happened was a large intake of breath and a small whimper at the stinging pain as the creature licked up his blood.
"Mmmm.... You taste good little lam...."
Next he felt something sharp press against his skin close to the wounds he already had. The tears in his robes and shirt were ripped further and then the cutting began.
"Drawing pretty pictures on your pretty skin...."
Harry felt a sharp claw sever his skin and a long straight line and again close next to it. The monster was taking its sweet time to make him bleed. The stinging, nauseating pain remained as it removed its claws, but then it got even worse.
Harry could actually feel a nail stabbing in the wound, pulling on the skin and tearing a strip of his stomach. Through his pain induced haze he could hear slurping and chewing.
It was eating his skin, strip by strip.
Then the mouth was back to lick up the freshly flowing blood.
"All alone.... No one will look for you.... No one will find you...."
Mumbling because he couldn't move his lips he tried to disagree, but stopped immediately as it started cutting another strip out of him.
"Ssshhhh.... No one can hear you here...."
Again it slowly ripped the strip off his flesh and ate it, nearly humming with delight and again it bend down to catch the little rivers of blood flowing over his sides and hips. It even slurped the little pool out of his bellybutton.
Slowly, strip by strip, drink by drink, it did its work on Harry.
Even if he couldn't move he felt every cut, every lick, every tear and maybe even worse, he heard everything it was saying. No one would find him, no one would help him. He was all alone.
After hours of sickening and excruciating slow torture, while it first skinned his stomach, then his arms, feet, legs...., Harry finally became dizzy from the blood loss and a little while later he fell into blessed unconsciousness.
Skinned alive, Harry Potter was no more and he had died all alone.
The next day the professors located him with a tracking spell, but all they found was a skinless corpse with the eyes sucked out of their sockets, the now visible muscles glinting in the wandlight and, strangely enough, no puddle of blood.
Not even the strongest stomach could hold it together at this horrific sight.
"All alone...."
End.
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