Thankyou sooooooooooooooooo much for such an overwhelming feedback. My gratitude to everyone that started following my fanfic and favourited it. You guys are amazing. I'm sooooo blessed to have readers like you. My special thanks to Vladimir Mithrander, xxqueenofbookjunglexx, Ezra7684, NinjaDai, StargladesTime, redslovelyangel, Charliee Keely Warmer, MessedUpRosie, StargladesTime, Kat2089, AliVader24, S-Lioness, darkmoonfairy16, otoya33, JaiJayce, anonymous, Emerald Time, zamik , Kiss death666, yukino89, Veneya, Final Syai Lunar Generation, AnimeLover229, SpitFire, Alcora, JC, MyGameSlave2, CrazyJanaCat, PerdidoKitsune, Rigella Black-Riddle, Procrasty, FanWarrior16, geekymom, Gurgaraneth, Laurie24 and SpitFire for reviewing.

Check out my fanfic named "Entrapped".

Summary: Madness is not a state of mind. Madness is a place. What happens when Harry stumbles into it and gets trapped there? A Harry Potter version of Alice in Wonderland but a thousand shades darker.

Links are useless so just visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback

A purple haze swirled and danced in front of him. When Harry laced his fingers through the mist, it twirled between them, leaving no warmth or coolness against his skin. On its touch, images of horror kissed at his cheek, caressing his consciousness and soothing his aching need to wonder about the differences between reality and make-believe that pulled at him. The haze toyed at the back of his mind as though it were a young child playing, beckoning. But this child was not sweet. Terrible, horrific pictures flickered in front of his eyes, and just as quickly, disappeared.

Sleep rarely provided any rest for him, as proverbially for the wicked, and now alertness prickled against the sweat on his collarbone.

Smoke wrapped itself around his neck, his waist, his arms, his legs. His clothes fluttered sentry against the breeze. He was dimly aware of the ache in his feet. That was strange. The breeze bothered him in his dreamy haze because even though he couldn't feel it, it streamed through his hair, pressed against his face, fluttered against his clothing. It poured against him as real wind would.

He stood in front of the cavern. While awake the hugeness and blackness in the cavern had never bothered him, but here, in the darkness of his slumber, it loomed taller than ever, surrounding him from all sides.

Up above, the midnight sky filled with gloom. The navy blanket held a few dark clouds. He vanished into the darkness of the cavern and then his dream changed abruptly.

He was standing in that filthy hallway again. His gaze was automatically drawn to the floor which wasn't just grimy anymore, a new colour had been added. A deep crimson red. Harry didn't want to acknowledge its presence, didn't want to understand what it was but he knew…he knew what it was. The understanding was unavoidable. A blood trail led from the hallway into the supply room. It wasn't a few careless drops from a bleeding nose or a cut finger; there must have been a couple of pints making the jagged red river and the splashes on the walls.

Harry's heart was screaming in his chest. WAKE UP…WAKE UP…THIS IS A DREAM…JUST WAKE UP… But he couldn't. Instead, his feet forced him to follow the trail into the supply room. He reached the door and saw that it was ajar. There was no activity and no voices this time. Had those monsters murdered the children? His thought jumped to Tom. Was he alright? He wanted to scream in despair as he slowly and gradually became overwhelmed by panic. He pushed the door open and it creaked ominously. The blood trail led him straight to the double doors beyond which Harry knew was the kitchen and the children's' beds. Harry's gaze was fixated on the blood trail as it grew thicker until he reached the kitchens and came to a standstill. He choked on his scream as he saw that the entire kitchen floor was smeared with a thick layer of blood and the smell that assaulted his senses... He sought out a bloodless path through the kitchen but found none. He didn't want to but his feet forced him to step into the kitchen. The blood made squelching sounds underneath his bare feet and Harry felt ready enough to throw up. That was when he saw the bodies and despite his terror, a sigh of relief escaped him.

It wasn't the children. It was those bloody monsters. Their bodies lay like ghoulish mannequins, the hearts had been cleaved from their bodies. The arteries, now drained of their life fluid, stuck out from the bodies like rubber tubes. Their skin had been peeled back and pinned with iron nails, haphazardly banged in with a household hammer. The ribs cages had been cracked and pried open, the whiteness of the bone shone out in the sea of flesh. Their faces were barely visible underneath all the blood that coated them and that smell... That smell could only come from recently slaughtered animals. In this case the animals were human and their corpses still looked fresh, the blood thickening but not yet dried on their waxy skin. He could still make out who was who. Albus' corpse was the most ravaged one, followed by Minerva, Umbridge and Severus. Four corpses. Harry felt something akin to sadistic glee filling up his heart but along with that came worry. Where were the children? A sniffling sound caught his attention and he moved in that direction. There in the corner of the kitchen, a small dark-haired boy sat with his legs brought up to his chest and his face buried in them. It was Tom. He was soaked in blood from head to toe. Harry panicked. Was he hurt? How much of that blood belonged to Tom? He saw a butcher's knife, a hammer and some spare nails at his side and Harry immediately understood,

"Tom."

Tom couldn't hear him of course. His body was trembling and Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort him and tell him that he had done the right things. Those monsters had deserved to be put down. He had only taken a step towards him to examine him closer when the boy stopped trembling and grew impossibly still. For a moment, there was no sound, no movement and Harry's eyes widened. Had he died? Had Tom just died?

The breaths returned to his body when Tom moved. He rose to his feet and Harry saw his face but he didn't just see his face, he saw so much more than that. Tom looked so broken. His big brown eyes were shining with tears, his lips were trembling as if holding back a cry and the aura that surrounded him was pure gold. Then it vanished. It all vanished. The tears vanished from his eyes, his lips stopped trembling and a malicious smile curved those thin blood-stained lips. Harry was forced to take a step back as he watched pure, liquid darkness gliding smoothly towards Tom and wrap around his frail body.

Harry wanted to scream as the darkness drowned out the gold but he couldn't. He could just watch it all happen with morbid fascination. Something changed inside Tom's eyes. The innocence was gone along with all the gold that had surrounded him only seconds ago. The only thing that surrounded him was that darkness that was more than just dark. It was pure evil and Harry felt suffocated by it. Tom's gaze scanned the kitchen coldly and then he threw his head back and laughed maniacally… the sound was so unnatural, so evil that it made the hair on Harry's body stand and he stepped back unable to take any more of the scene. He would die if he stayed around that darkness anymore.

The kitchen was drowned out by the purple fog and Harry closed his eyes. When he opened them again he realized that the dark water was up to his ankles, but it was rising. The purple haze grew thicker than fog. When Harry reached out, he felt as though he could wrap it around his wrists like a silken ribbon. Its smoothness ran along his skin gently, like the touch of a lover.

Everything was silent, all but the heavy sound of his breath and his thudding heart. Strands of mist closed around his wrists. As he watched the translucent shackles form, an unearthly sense of dread crept up his spine. Slowly it tightened until the skin beneath its grip turned red and tingled. And when the thick haze began to pull, trying to drag him into the depths of the water, he gasped. No sound came out. Something wicked pulled him into the darkness—some kind of horror that made the sick feeling in his stomach want to pour out of his mouth.

The water turned to tar around him, thick and heavy like molasses. Any translucence it once held became solid black. The tar kept rising. A voice in the distance shouted at him. His eyelids began to flutter. And he began to realize that he was waking up from his dream.

Check out my fanfic named "Elusion". Let me know what you guys think. Just follow the link below or visit my profile. Looking forward your feedback

s/12775290/1/Elusion

Check out my other fanfic named "No Escape." If you haven't checked it out yet. Just visit my profile or click on the link below

s/12572454/1/No-Escape

If you have the time, then check out my new Harry Potter fanfic labelled "Desperation" Just visit my profile or click on the link below,

s/12660747/1/