gothic.kisses
Prologue
"You are scum, take my life if you want. Begging you for mercy just seems so wrong." Neville Longbottom spat out from his mouth, as though it was some foul, vile substance that he wanted to get rid of so quickly.
"Oh really? Well, that might make things easier then. But such a fat prat like you begging me for mercy would probably make me want to finish you off even faster." The cloaked man laughed, and took out a small dagger. Its handle was set in a deep hue of silver, with a twisted snake carved on it.
The blade glinted dangerously, as the murderous intent flashed in the man's eyes. Deep, dark steel-grey eyes.
They were in a small alley, which turned away from Knockturn Alley, and the moon hung high in the night. The night was covered in a veil of perpetual darkness it seemed, as slow hours trickled between them.
The man took up the blade, and advanced on a fallen Longbottom, who was hit by the Reductor curse. Oh yes, Longbottom remembered the man from their Hogwarts years. Despite the fact that they had graduated for about five years now, Neville will always remember him.
"Your past will never be forgotten!" Neville screamed, and that was his very last breath before the man took his life, slitting Neville's neck.
He licked the blade of his dagger, licking up the blood that flowed from Neville's severed neck.
How he loved to see the pain, to see the blood of those victims he had.
Yes, he was a sadistic, morbid killer – he was the one touted as the next Dark Lord after the death of Voldemort and his right hand man, Lucius Malfoy, but yet he refused to take up that position and led the Deatheaters to another period of the Dark Ages.
As Neville's body laid limp in the middle of the alley, bleeding into a pool of blood, the man took out his wand, and with a wave, Neville's body was dismantled and mangled, his head hanging from a hook off the wall. His eyes had sunken into their holes, and his lips were chapped, and left opening. Inside was dust, literally. He, the man so cruel, had reduced every internal organ of Neville's into dust. Evil, fucking asshole – such a cruel, morbid bastard was he.
But, he didn't care. No one should know about his past…if he wanted to be the Dark Lord.
And damn you, he really did.
He did want to be the Dark Lord, and one must have all connections with the world tightly severed.
No one must know about his past, and he was bent on killing all of them who knew.
His family was dead, so that didn't worry him.
His household's house elves were massacred, every single kind that were connected to anybody he knew.
The wind whipped against his face, and his hood flew back.
The face of an angel, but the heart of such a devil.
The hair that was such a beautiful platinum blond, that would put any jeweler who boasted of it's jewels' shine to shame.
The eyes, so steely-grey, that it could melt any metal.
Him.
The dragon.
The dragon, who one day shall soar beyond any other.
And spread his wings of bloodshed and destruction.
He waved his wand, and a list was conjured up.
He waved his wand again, and a green tick appeared beside Neville Longbottom's name under the heading, "Gryffindors."
And his eyes narrowed dangerously as he advanced onto the next name.
"Harry James Potter."
Here he was, rampant on his road of mass destruction.
Draco Malfoy.
author's note: WOOHOO! Another fic done. News, people. (: I failed three of my subjects in school, and according to school rules I would probably be expelled. When that happens, I will have my computer consficated. So, let's pray hard!
Anyway, how was it? Kind of a sudden inspiration I had. Please review!
Love,
gothic.kisses