Chapter Six: A Slightly Solemn Interlude
"Lightly do we tread…"
His head moved slightly on the pillow resting beneath him.
"Dare not to speak his name…"
His hand curled on the black sheets, the tendons visibly stretching across his white knuckles, his long, spidery white fingers pressing into his palm.
"But to him alone do we pledge ourselves…"His wand was under the pillow, ready for use, humming with the power it felt in its master.
"To him alone do we pledge, Our King, the Dark Lord."
Flags were billowing in the wind, hanging from poles on wall, on windows, in the hands of men marching by. Flags with a skull, with a snake, with His Mark.
"But to him alone do we pledge ourselves…"Everywhere were his men, men in masks and black billowing robes. Wands were poised and ready, dealing out Unforgivables like candy. Everywhere the ringing of laughter mingled with the gasps of pain and death and utter despair, creating a polyphonic spree. To his ears it was the joyous pealing of Hell's Bell's, and his laughter made it complete.
"To him alone do we pledge…"Shrill, hateful, frigid, his laughter was the living end.
"Our King, the Dark Lord."
"My L-Lord," came a hoarse, whispering voice. He could smell fear. He didn't open his eyes. "M-My Lord, I'm sorry, but it seems there has been a mistake…"
He could still faintly hear the pain-filled gasps and cries of the tortured, of those that would not submit to his will, those that still looked for hope in the green eyes of a mere boy. The boy would not last long.
"My Lord, it seems the Malfoys were not efficiently- dealt with…"
An image of a young, thin, silver-eyed adolescent flashed across his mind, with the potential to be of good use in the future shining in his smirk.
He imperceptibly opened his eyes a hair's width, gouged the man's location, and reached for his wand in a swift, liquid movement.
"Avada kedavra." The words left his mouth in a hiss, his hand lazily holding his wand, and he heard the satisfying thump of a lifeless body making impact with the ground.
Stupid man, he thought. He now fully opened his eyes, the slits of pupils surrounded by red irises taking in the room.
He'd ruined a perfectly good dream.