Becoming
Once again I see another one of my so-called faithful Death Eaters walk in the room. He has failed me yet again. Big surprise.
"Master," he began tremblingly.
"Crucio!" I cry. Ah, sweet bliss. His pain brings me a moment's respite from this pain that defines and controls my life. As I end the curse I hear it once again. The Question. It's not aloud for my Death Eaters are not completely retarded, even Crabbe and Goyle are not foolish enough to ask The Question to my face. But I hear it nonetheless in their minds.
"How can one man be so evil? How did he get that way?"
I sigh. My story begins and ends in one place. One would assume that it is the orphanage where I spent the most horrid days of my life. But it is not. It is Hogwarts where my story begins.
The tale of the decline of Tom Riddle begins and ends with one wizard. Again many have believed that it is my childhood and my bitter resentment of my father that has led me to become what I am today. The wizard who has essentially made me what I am today even believes it is my antipathy for my father that turned my head towards the Dark Arts. Who is this wizard you ask? Why it is none other than the famed Albus Dumbledore.
I was placed in Slytherin on that first terrifying day that I entered Hogwarts. I had heard all the tales, just as any other new student had about the awfulness of the Slytherins. How the dreadful Salazar Slytherin attempted to off all the Muggleborns in the world at least two thousand years ago. To be a Muggleborn placed in Slytherin was virtual suicide. I was considered an infidel.
By Fifth Year, I had worked out that I was not by any means a filthy Muggleborn, but I was the sole living heir of the great Salazar Slytherin. I had even discovered how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets. It was inside the Chamber of Secrets that I discovered not only the basilisk but notes of my brilliant ancestor. He had discovered how to do many things that were considered impossible of the time, including how to become immortal. He himself lacked the power, but knew that there would be an ancestor of his that would be powerful enough to fulfill the transformation.
I took the notes as my sign. I finally believed my Divination professor, for I had considered that particular art of magic to be quite imprecise. However, Divination was a means to an end. The class that I considered to be a waste of time became my time to prepare myself. I could not undergo the transformation whilst still in Hogwarts. Our Transfiguration professor had been watching me very meticulously following the Myrtle fiasco.
Years later I had done it. I was ecstatic. The transformation was painful and my beautiful face had turned to ashes, but I was immortal. It wasn't until 3 months after I had undergone the transformation that I realized something was wrong. Frantically I checked my beloved ancestor's notes. It was then that I chanced upon a sidenote so small that I had probably overlooked it during my Hogwarts days.
It is possible on the completion of the process that the now-immortal person may experience extreme pain. If in the event said person experiences severe pain, it can be concluded that complete immortality is unobtainable. However, the afore mentioned person may be assured wholeheartedly that death by sickness or ordinary death curses, such as Avada Kedavra, is completely infeasible.
Oh how I wish that I had read more carefully. Now it is that I am doomed. Doomed to live forever with this extreme pain that lighten only ever so slightly when I cause others pain or death.
Knowing this I began my annihilation of the Muggles and Muggleborn witches and wizards that contaminate my newfound world. My purge of the infidels gained me fame as well as a number of followers. And so it is that I became the great Lord Voldemort and nobody, not Albus Dumbledore, not Harry Potter, not even time itself will stop me. I am You-Know-Who, He-That-Must-Not-Be-Named and I will run the world until forever. Until then, I spit at the world and laugh in its face until my day comes.