Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or The Count of Monte Cristo
Chapter 9: I Want to Break Free
After frustrating a counselor into retirement, attacking two security guards, and (with inhuman strength) grabbing a heavy, steel lamp and throwing it at a police officer (thus hospitalizing him with serious injuries), Voldemort was back in his cell.
How to escape he did not know.
And he was in that soft cell again. All there was in that cell was toilet, see-through bars (great, no one could "go" without someone watching), and a hard, wooden bench.
Now how do I use these things for my benefit? Maybe I could steal a spoon from the lunch tray that they give me every day and tunnel under the jail by digging industriously.
There is always one way, if not, then two.
Voldemort thought, thought, and thought some more.
Yes, tunneling under the jail by means of spoons is probably the best way. At that Muggle orphanage I had to live in, they talked about this book, The Mount of Conte Cristo, or something like that. I think the mad Italian professor dug under his jail with a stick. I should do it with a spoon. Intense digging action!
So when the lunch tray arrived, Voldemort stole the spoon.
He whacked at the floor and tried breaking through the pads, but it was all in vain. A security guard did see him on the camera, however, and called for intervention.
So a guard was dispatched to take away the spoon from Voldemort, who was showing more "disorders" as they put it, reader.
Voldemort was angry and distraught.
My one way of escape is GONE! How? HOW? Muggle fiends! They will pay for all my injuries. And what can I do now? There is no spoon!
Voldemort had to think, think, and think again.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o
Early the next morning, Voldemort thought of another way to escape.
I'll threaten one of those Muggle fiends into letting me go!
When Charlie came over to see if Voldemort was all right, Voldemort grabbed his neck. "If you let me go, I promise you, you shall not be hurt."
"Dude, let me go!"
"Release me, Muggle fiend. Then, I shall leave, and you will never hear from me. I do not willingly consort with Muggles, you know. So, what do you think, Muggle fiend?"
"No way!"
"Then I shall have to resort to drastic measures, Muggle."
But Charlie, who had years of judo training, flipped Voldemort neatly onto his back and ran out of the cell, ensuring that he locked it tightly.
Well, there goes Plan B.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o
Voldemort kept thinking and thinking. He noticed that two people could either enter or exit a room when one door opened.
So he thought it was totally worth a try.
Another security guard warily opened the door to bring in Voldemort's lunch tray. As it opened, Voldemort made a run for it, to try and get through the door before it closed. Unfortunately, it did close and Voldemort ran headlong into the steel bars.
"Oww…"
Well, there goes Plan C
0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o
Voldemort kept thinking. He was tired of thinking. Then he thought, well, maybe, if I shake the bars enough, I could bend them. It's worth a try.
So he did. As he was rattling the bars away (making an inordinate amount of noise), a large, female security guard came up with a stick. She hit Voldemort's hands. Hard. Voldemort yelped and jumped back in pain. The security guard looked at him sternly. "No noise."
Voldemort was not happy at all.
How to break free?
This is difficult; very, very difficult.
I will conquer this yet!
You do that, Lord Voldemort.
The epiphany came to Voldemort in the middle of that night. I know how to escape!
With more inhuman strength, he wrenched the toilet from the floor and threw it at the door.
I was right! I can use what I have! HAHA!
The bars bent a little. This was exactly what Voldemort wanted. He'd break them eventually.
After a little while, the bars were loosening.
But suddenly, it became stuck between two bars. Voldemort couldn't pull it out, but he did loosen it.
So he resorted to crawling through the small hole it made by widening the bars. As he slipped through, the toilet freed itself and landed on his foot.
"YEOW!"
Luckily, no one woke up. Voldemort crept out the door of the jail, which some stupid guard had fortunately left open.
He was free.
A/N: Well, I had to get him out sometime soon. So he's out. But he's without a wand, still. Pauvre Lord Voldemort. Ah, ce n'est pas bon. Vraiment. Mais, je vais aller au Numéro Douze, Grimmald Place ou Draco, Parvati, et Narcissa habitent. Merci. Oh yeah, and thanks Tailia (though you totally aren't reading this right now) for the toilet idea before history class.
