The Phone Booth
Chapter 2: Part two
Two wizards appeared in a shadowy room, with a mournful glow from the candles on the walls. The room was tall and greyish. A tall arched opening stood at a wall before them. Behind the opening, was another room.
'What is this place?' Jamier scratched his head. 'Aren't we suppose to be at Hogwarts?'
'I dunno!!'
Jamier dug into his pocket for his... 'NO! Where is my WAND?! Where the HELL is it?!' he screamed and began searching all his pockets.
'Hey! Where is MINE too?! Where the HELL --'
'-- they're with me for safekeeping,' cooed a voice from the other room. 'Come over here, my friends.'
They looked at each other, too stunned to speak.
The voice could only have one master.
Voldemort.
They moved slowly into the room, always staring ahead. It had a high ceiling and ugly chains criss-crossed it in a tangled chaos. They were blood stained, and they could nearly hear screams of agony from the sight of them.
A man, cloaked in a brown robe, stood waiting for them at the other end.
'Come closer, my dearest friends, I want to have a chat with you two...' the voice echoed from everywhere.
'Who... who are you?' Tom finally spoke up, though he already knew who he was.
'Some people call me TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE,' the voice spoke again.
The two wizards held their breath and muttered a swear.
'But you can call me... VOLDEMORT,'
They winched at the sound of the cursed name. Their hearts swirled with fear, and their muscles weakened like jelly. All hopes were gone.
'There is no escape for the two of you. So all you've to do is to listen to me. You hear me?'
Voldemort spun around and faced them for the first time. His face was hidden under the hood, but hate and disgust flew from it, snaring them with icy fingers.
'What... what do you want from us?' Jamier muttered with a quiver.
'Just tell me, my friends, what is... the number to HARRY POTTER?'
'What?' Tom muttered.
Voldemort flicked his cold white finger at him accusingly. 'You hear me, don't you? Why don't you just tell me and...'
'... you will let us off?' Jamier asked with pleading eyes.
The cloaked figure chuckled for a while. 'No... but you two will suffer a less gruesome death. I'm sure you could tell which is the WISER choice, don't you?'
Chapter 2: Part two
Two wizards appeared in a shadowy room, with a mournful glow from the candles on the walls. The room was tall and greyish. A tall arched opening stood at a wall before them. Behind the opening, was another room.
'What is this place?' Jamier scratched his head. 'Aren't we suppose to be at Hogwarts?'
'I dunno!!'
Jamier dug into his pocket for his... 'NO! Where is my WAND?! Where the HELL is it?!' he screamed and began searching all his pockets.
'Hey! Where is MINE too?! Where the HELL --'
'-- they're with me for safekeeping,' cooed a voice from the other room. 'Come over here, my friends.'
They looked at each other, too stunned to speak.
The voice could only have one master.
Voldemort.
They moved slowly into the room, always staring ahead. It had a high ceiling and ugly chains criss-crossed it in a tangled chaos. They were blood stained, and they could nearly hear screams of agony from the sight of them.
A man, cloaked in a brown robe, stood waiting for them at the other end.
'Come closer, my dearest friends, I want to have a chat with you two...' the voice echoed from everywhere.
'Who... who are you?' Tom finally spoke up, though he already knew who he was.
'Some people call me TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE,' the voice spoke again.
The two wizards held their breath and muttered a swear.
'But you can call me... VOLDEMORT,'
They winched at the sound of the cursed name. Their hearts swirled with fear, and their muscles weakened like jelly. All hopes were gone.
'There is no escape for the two of you. So all you've to do is to listen to me. You hear me?'
Voldemort spun around and faced them for the first time. His face was hidden under the hood, but hate and disgust flew from it, snaring them with icy fingers.
'What... what do you want from us?' Jamier muttered with a quiver.
'Just tell me, my friends, what is... the number to HARRY POTTER?'
'What?' Tom muttered.
Voldemort flicked his cold white finger at him accusingly. 'You hear me, don't you? Why don't you just tell me and...'
'... you will let us off?' Jamier asked with pleading eyes.
The cloaked figure chuckled for a while. 'No... but you two will suffer a less gruesome death. I'm sure you could tell which is the WISER choice, don't you?'