Author's Note: Ok, so don't hate me please. I know some of you find these chapters to be annoying but...too bad. It's another first person pov chapter. A word in my defense: These chapters aren't all supposed to make sense.
chapter 18: Mutiliation - a tearing of dreams and nightmares
I feel him shudder beneath me, trembling as I smooth my fingers along his throat, grip the back of his neck and hold him exposed before me, so vulnerable, so sweet. I can smell his fear and excitement, feel it in the tremors that ripple through us both.
YESss
so sweet. His skin beneath my lips is so sweet and I hold my breath in anticipation. His blood will be even sweeter.
mine.
I feel him tense as I set my teeth to the delicate skin of this throat and pause before all else is lost in the flooding sensation of his blood hot along my tongue, flowing like liquid fire down my throat. I can't get enough of it. His body trembling in my grasp. His short, quick, fear-laden breaths. The wonderful salty sweet pouring past my lips. I feel whole.
the world in red
He's practically writhing beneath me now, hands grasping and releasing my back and shoulders, frantic and hot, his neck arced toward me. Is it terror or ecstasy? I can't tell. I don't care. I dig my fingers into his hair, gripping his head tightly and holding him still.
you belong to Me!
I can taste the panicked flutter of his pulse. The hysteric pounding of his hands along my back, sharply tugging at my hair, sending sweet jolts of pain through me that only drive me further.
here. we're Here.
Now. Everything is the now. Nothing exists outside of this. He's gasping now, bucking and trying to throw me off.
No. You'll never lose me that easily.
My sweet. My precious one. My Hatred for you burns in eternal fire within me.
I bite down harder and revel in his Flesh. The blood and flesh sustaining Me. Pulsing with life With fighting and fear. With dying. The striving of flesh and teeth, of blood and bone.
My hatred alone is enough to tear you apart.
His struggles are weaker now. almost listless. almost languid. His surrender is sweeter than the fight. It is eternal and inevitable and Real.
Ah yes. my Love.
my Death my Life.
everything.
I feel the last of him seeping away. He grows still and the blood darkens in my mouth. The taste of death. The taste of ashes and sweet memory and bitter regret. His skin grows cold. so smooth. His eyes stare sightless into mine and I luxuriate in this feeling. This perfect calm and stillness.
i am complete.
And when I rise to my feet I leave him in his peace. A hall, I think it is. The cold stones caressing his cold skin and flesh, displaying the flashes of red like a piece of art. I raise my fingers to my lips and kiss him my goodbye.
no regret.
i am void
The halls are a pale grey blur. The shadows dance and drift around me. I feel no heat, no cold. I drift along in stillness for a while. In satisfied stride.
Whole!
Then voices. They echo along the corridors, surround me with their babbled sound. I think they're getting nearer, or am I getting nearer?
It comes.
Surrounded now. By pale blank faces. By swirling dark robes. The crowds whirl around me as I drift in their eddies. They are nothing to me. I am whole. I am through. What care I when their sharp laughter stops, when their eyes turn to me, their moon pale faces holding some expression that matters not to me.
why?
There in the swirling, liquid crowds. Two faces standing still. Two statues staring at me as though the world was made for their expression. Why does my heart acknowledge? Why do I stop and turn and stare them back?
What do you want with me!?
Their eyes are black in white faces but they bore into me and I feel my color, my life, my wholeness draining away to feed their righteous anger. Like angels of a vengeful God they look. Like demons come to torture the ragged soul that is me. My other self is gone and I am alone with these screaming angels whose eyes burn with the fires of Hell and from whose mouths streams a river of pain to drown me and rip me apart.
Why do you hate me so!?
And I can't find my anchor. They have torn it from me. Where has he gone? Why has he deserted me? Who can fill the void that is me and keep me from being afraid?
you Stole him from me!
I can't breathe. There is no air, nothing surrounding me, holding me up. Why did they take him from me? Why did I take him from me? He's gone.
NO!
Like being stabbed by a thousand daggers. Like being torn apart in tiny pieces that wouldn't kill you if it would only Stop!
he's gone and i killed him. he's gone and i killed him.
And he was part of me, my core, the center that kept me from going insane but it's been ripped away from me. They tore out my heart. Someone tore out my heart. And my stomach. And my liver. And all that is vital to me.
WHAT HAVE I DONE
I held him in my hands. I felt him slip away. I helped him slip way, and then he grew cold and still and lay in his own pooling testament to his Death. Pale skin. Dark eyes. Hair of flame and blood, and the blood.
So much blood.
My hatred is ash. My love is a grave. The angels guard the gate and the pathway that leads to my hell.
"You Stole Him From Us!!"
NO
I stole him from Me!
The angels are blind. They can't see the Truth. I was whole and it was ripped away. He lay in a pool of blood. I washed my hands in a pool of his blood and drank from the fountain of his life and now he's gone away from me. And I feel the hate and the loathing and it's all that fills me now, all that holds me together. It pools in my veins and twists its way into the shriveled coils of my blackened heart. And my vision clouds over with the black void. And my ears fill with the screams of a thousand dying angels, a thousand demons cursing me with their last breath at the end of eternity.
"I HATE YOU!!!!!!"
Draco started awake, a scream caught at the back of his throat. The darkness of the dorm was so complete it lay like black velvet against his wide-open eyes and he dared breathe only in shallow silence. He could feel the stillness, the frozen terror that had wrapped his body as he dreamed and he felt as though he were a statue, carved out of tense fear and darkness.
Slowly, he let his hands loosen from their clenched fists, let his body uncurl and lay carefully on his back, listening to the stillness. He cooled as the sweat dried stale against his nightshirt and the storm was a distant acompanyment to his thoughts. The night seemed all the more silent for the wind shrieking around outside the castle.
Across the castle, another lay sleepless as well. Ron couldn't remember the dream that had waked him, but he also knew that he probably didn't want to. Instead of dwelling on it in the dark, where the surrounding presence of his sleeping friends made him feel all the more alone, he had gotten up, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and stumbled down to the common room.
Lying on the couch he watched the low burning embers of the fire flicker in the fireplace, letting it lull him. So many nights it seemed he'd lain there, awake with his circling thoughts. Coming close to finding rest but then never seeming able to grasp it. why why why His thoughts were a chorus in his head. He seemed to have lost the rest of the question a while ago.
He sighed, shifting to lie on his back and holding his arm up over his face for inspection. The glamour was flawless, his skin appearing smooth and whole. Running his thumb over the skin he felt the slight raised roughness of small scabs and the tender swelling of the newest mark. Pulling his thumb away he was surprised to see a single drop of blood clinging just above the nail, looking eerie in the firelight. Ron frowned and brushed his fingers over his arm but this time they came away clean. What did it mean?
Absently putting his thumb to his lips, he was half surprised by the salty taste of his own blood. It tasted so alive. Part of him had expected to taste rain. With these thoughts still pacing tirelessly through his mind, Ron rose wearily and trudged back to bed.
chapter 18: Mutiliation - a tearing of dreams and nightmares
I feel him shudder beneath me, trembling as I smooth my fingers along his throat, grip the back of his neck and hold him exposed before me, so vulnerable, so sweet. I can smell his fear and excitement, feel it in the tremors that ripple through us both.
YESss
so sweet. His skin beneath my lips is so sweet and I hold my breath in anticipation. His blood will be even sweeter.
mine.
I feel him tense as I set my teeth to the delicate skin of this throat and pause before all else is lost in the flooding sensation of his blood hot along my tongue, flowing like liquid fire down my throat. I can't get enough of it. His body trembling in my grasp. His short, quick, fear-laden breaths. The wonderful salty sweet pouring past my lips. I feel whole.
the world in red
He's practically writhing beneath me now, hands grasping and releasing my back and shoulders, frantic and hot, his neck arced toward me. Is it terror or ecstasy? I can't tell. I don't care. I dig my fingers into his hair, gripping his head tightly and holding him still.
you belong to Me!
I can taste the panicked flutter of his pulse. The hysteric pounding of his hands along my back, sharply tugging at my hair, sending sweet jolts of pain through me that only drive me further.
here. we're Here.
Now. Everything is the now. Nothing exists outside of this. He's gasping now, bucking and trying to throw me off.
No. You'll never lose me that easily.
My sweet. My precious one. My Hatred for you burns in eternal fire within me.
I bite down harder and revel in his Flesh. The blood and flesh sustaining Me. Pulsing with life With fighting and fear. With dying. The striving of flesh and teeth, of blood and bone.
My hatred alone is enough to tear you apart.
His struggles are weaker now. almost listless. almost languid. His surrender is sweeter than the fight. It is eternal and inevitable and Real.
Ah yes. my Love.
my Death my Life.
everything.
I feel the last of him seeping away. He grows still and the blood darkens in my mouth. The taste of death. The taste of ashes and sweet memory and bitter regret. His skin grows cold. so smooth. His eyes stare sightless into mine and I luxuriate in this feeling. This perfect calm and stillness.
i am complete.
And when I rise to my feet I leave him in his peace. A hall, I think it is. The cold stones caressing his cold skin and flesh, displaying the flashes of red like a piece of art. I raise my fingers to my lips and kiss him my goodbye.
no regret.
i am void
The halls are a pale grey blur. The shadows dance and drift around me. I feel no heat, no cold. I drift along in stillness for a while. In satisfied stride.
Whole!
Then voices. They echo along the corridors, surround me with their babbled sound. I think they're getting nearer, or am I getting nearer?
It comes.
Surrounded now. By pale blank faces. By swirling dark robes. The crowds whirl around me as I drift in their eddies. They are nothing to me. I am whole. I am through. What care I when their sharp laughter stops, when their eyes turn to me, their moon pale faces holding some expression that matters not to me.
why?
There in the swirling, liquid crowds. Two faces standing still. Two statues staring at me as though the world was made for their expression. Why does my heart acknowledge? Why do I stop and turn and stare them back?
What do you want with me!?
Their eyes are black in white faces but they bore into me and I feel my color, my life, my wholeness draining away to feed their righteous anger. Like angels of a vengeful God they look. Like demons come to torture the ragged soul that is me. My other self is gone and I am alone with these screaming angels whose eyes burn with the fires of Hell and from whose mouths streams a river of pain to drown me and rip me apart.
Why do you hate me so!?
And I can't find my anchor. They have torn it from me. Where has he gone? Why has he deserted me? Who can fill the void that is me and keep me from being afraid?
you Stole him from me!
I can't breathe. There is no air, nothing surrounding me, holding me up. Why did they take him from me? Why did I take him from me? He's gone.
NO!
Like being stabbed by a thousand daggers. Like being torn apart in tiny pieces that wouldn't kill you if it would only Stop!
he's gone and i killed him. he's gone and i killed him.
And he was part of me, my core, the center that kept me from going insane but it's been ripped away from me. They tore out my heart. Someone tore out my heart. And my stomach. And my liver. And all that is vital to me.
WHAT HAVE I DONE
I held him in my hands. I felt him slip away. I helped him slip way, and then he grew cold and still and lay in his own pooling testament to his Death. Pale skin. Dark eyes. Hair of flame and blood, and the blood.
So much blood.
My hatred is ash. My love is a grave. The angels guard the gate and the pathway that leads to my hell.
"You Stole Him From Us!!"
NO
I stole him from Me!
The angels are blind. They can't see the Truth. I was whole and it was ripped away. He lay in a pool of blood. I washed my hands in a pool of his blood and drank from the fountain of his life and now he's gone away from me. And I feel the hate and the loathing and it's all that fills me now, all that holds me together. It pools in my veins and twists its way into the shriveled coils of my blackened heart. And my vision clouds over with the black void. And my ears fill with the screams of a thousand dying angels, a thousand demons cursing me with their last breath at the end of eternity.
"I HATE YOU!!!!!!"
Draco started awake, a scream caught at the back of his throat. The darkness of the dorm was so complete it lay like black velvet against his wide-open eyes and he dared breathe only in shallow silence. He could feel the stillness, the frozen terror that had wrapped his body as he dreamed and he felt as though he were a statue, carved out of tense fear and darkness.
Slowly, he let his hands loosen from their clenched fists, let his body uncurl and lay carefully on his back, listening to the stillness. He cooled as the sweat dried stale against his nightshirt and the storm was a distant acompanyment to his thoughts. The night seemed all the more silent for the wind shrieking around outside the castle.
Across the castle, another lay sleepless as well. Ron couldn't remember the dream that had waked him, but he also knew that he probably didn't want to. Instead of dwelling on it in the dark, where the surrounding presence of his sleeping friends made him feel all the more alone, he had gotten up, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and stumbled down to the common room.
Lying on the couch he watched the low burning embers of the fire flicker in the fireplace, letting it lull him. So many nights it seemed he'd lain there, awake with his circling thoughts. Coming close to finding rest but then never seeming able to grasp it. why why why His thoughts were a chorus in his head. He seemed to have lost the rest of the question a while ago.
He sighed, shifting to lie on his back and holding his arm up over his face for inspection. The glamour was flawless, his skin appearing smooth and whole. Running his thumb over the skin he felt the slight raised roughness of small scabs and the tender swelling of the newest mark. Pulling his thumb away he was surprised to see a single drop of blood clinging just above the nail, looking eerie in the firelight. Ron frowned and brushed his fingers over his arm but this time they came away clean. What did it mean?
Absently putting his thumb to his lips, he was half surprised by the salty taste of his own blood. It tasted so alive. Part of him had expected to taste rain. With these thoughts still pacing tirelessly through his mind, Ron rose wearily and trudged back to bed.
