The God Daughter

By Dog-Demon-Emiko

Chapter 12: Dining With The Devil

Two months...it had been two months since that day. Two months that she'd been here; two months since she had last been safe, happy, and warm.

Kyra had been given her own room in the mansion that Voldemort currently resided in. She had a large room that had an old victioran style feeling to it. Her wardobe consisted of nothing but black robes and black gowns with the Dark Lord's symbol on the back. The only person who didn't look to her with a sneer or bow to her was Mrs. Clover, her caretaker. Mrs. Clover provided her with all the potions she needed to keep her morning sickness at bay and her stregnth up. Whenever she wanted to go somewhere she was forced to take Mrs. Clover and Davis with her, and that included the bath. She was forced to walk with a heavy chain on her neck, just like that day...

At times Voldemort would come and lay in bed with her, but he spent most of his time fondling with her newly sensitive chest while whispering degrading things into her ears. This only made her hate him more, not only was it inappropriate for a grown man to touch a teenager, but it was absoultly disgusting for a grown man to touch a pregnant teen who was a victum of rape. But as she was told over and over agian, she was nothing but his bitch and he could do as he pleased.

Walking,
Waiting,
Alone without a care.
Hoping,
and Hating,
The things that I can't bear.
Did ya think it's cool to walk right up?
To take my life and fuck it up?
Well did you?
Well did you?

Every waking second Kyra found herself wishing that her brother was here, or someone. She wanted to be resuced, or better- woken up to see it was all just a dream, but it wasn't. She had been stripped of her pride and dignity, and forced to bear a child that should have never been. Had she not always had to been accompanied by Mrs. Clover and Davis she wold have been drowned herself in the bath. But Voldemort had none of that. She was forced to wear the binding shakles all the time, causing her wrists, neck, and ankles to become raw. Her powers were restless from lack of use and meditation was a hard decision. Everytime she closed her eyes thoughts of death came into her mind and of how she longed to be free once more. She could get no peace in her mind or body, and her soul was in turmoil.

I see hell in your eyes!
Taken in by surprise,
And touching you makes me feel alive,
Touching you makes me die inside.

It was as if she were walking with a snake around her neck all the time. It was almost as if every second the life inside her grew, her soul was dieing. Voldemort knew it, but he didn't care. He was destroying her even when he was not inside her. She needed to leave, to get fresh air. When she walked through the halls, chain around her neck, Death Eaters got to their knees. Not for her, they made remarks about her such as if she would bear their children. They bowed to the Prince of Darkness as he was already donned. She was only a shell to them, one that they could walk all over, which was probably why she had a female gaurd, a male gaurd might want to have 'fun' with her also.

Walking,
Waiting,
Alone without a care.
Hoping,
and Hating,
The things that I can't bear.
Did ya think it's cool to walk right up?
To take my life and fuck it up?
Well did you?
I hate you!

The life of humiliation was all she had to look forward to. There were rumours about Voldemort keeping her even after the child was weaned from milk to make more. This made her angry, she was not a baby machine! She never realized the hate that filled the cracks in her broken soul until the day she nearly attacked a man while on their way from the bath. He had commented about her mother, saying that had she not been dead he would have 'banged her brains out'. Kyra had charged with speed she forgot she had, coming just short of her target by the chain which Davis had yanked back on. The opposing Death Eater had fled from the hall, not bothering to look back in fear. She felt like a tiger; one who was forced to spend the rest of her life in a circus, never able to run in the jungles of India, or hunt in the mountains of Russia again.

I see hell in your eyes!
Taken in by surprise,
And touching you makes me feel alive,
Touching you makes me die inside.

Ofcorse Voldemort had taken the time to punish her by forcing her to pleasure him orally. It was all they could do without risking the safty of the baby. Had Kyra not been so afraid, she would consider purposley angering Voldemort so that he could damage her enough to kill the baby. But it never happened. He did not hit her anywhere but her face, and she was always forced to eat three times a day to keep her body healthy. No, Voldemort knew how to tourture her other ways then beatings. He was smart enough to know she would try somthing of the sort to make him hurt her severly.

I've slept so long without you,
It's tearing me apart too,
How'd it get this far,
Playing games with this old heart.
I've killed a million pretty souls,
But I couldn't kill you,
I've slept so long without you.

I see hell in your eyes!
Taken in by surprise,
Touching you makes me feel alive,
Touching you made me die inside.

Kyra was becoming accustumed to her new life slowly. This didn't mean that she like it, only that she was getting used to it. See, Ms. Potter is a very adaptable person. And although she can be stubborn she knows very well when she has been defeated. She knew all she could do was wait for someone to find her, but she had to help them on the way. She didn't know how she'd help, but she would. She had 7 more months to figure out how to get out of her prison, so she did not rush.

The day had gone by like any other day; uneventful except for her mood swings. The clock chimed seven and the pregnant teen found herself getting impatient. A knock came upon her door, and just as she thought 'Finally,'. But it wasn't the short and fat rat looking man that brought her food, Davis and Mrs. Clover, who now told her she could call her Mary, had showed instead.

"Change of plans dear," said Mary, who had started to call her 'dear' recently "you'll be dining with the Dark Lord tonight. Your normal robes will do," Kyra rose to her feet without a vocal arguement, but the shuffle of her feet and facial expression was clearly spoken as stubborn. She put on the robe she had worn that day and eyed the heavy chain that still had to be clipped around her neck. No matter how adaptable she was she could not get used to the chain. She felt as if she were owned by a prized collector.

She was lead to a set of great victorian style doors decorated with snake engravings. The door swung open by themselves, revealing a dark room lit by an erie green light coming from the ceiling. She was seated in a tall black chair at the right end of the end seat at a long black table, her chain magically fastend under the table. They wern't even going to allow her to stand now...

Voldemort entered from the same door she had come in. She did not stand to greet him or bow like Davis and Mary had, no. She would not submit without a fight. Voldemort moved to his seat and waited as Davis scarmbled to pull it out for him. He leaned over the corner of the table expectantly, his lips perked. Kyra only stared straight ahead, ignoring his entire presence. But her tense ears were a dead giveaway that she was alert. Losing his patience as she knew he would, he reached out and snatched her chain and yanked her into a kiss. In effort to keep her lips closed the impact made her teeth smash into her lips painfully. He pulled away after a second and pulled her hair so she faced him.

"Is that the kind of kiss you greet your master with?" he asked as his hand snaked over to her breast. He began to rub the sensitive mound of flesh, making her bite her lip and moan from her throat. He took her lips once more, and smiled at the fact that she responded. He pulled away and took his seat without breaking eye contact.

With a clap of his hands the food appeared on the table. "Please," he welcomed "enjoy." Very slowly, she picked up the fork and took a bite of mashed potatoes, tasting them for any difference. She had to admit whoever cooked was a great cook, but seeing as Voldemort exited from the kitchens, anything could be in her food.

She couldn't stop herself, she wanted more. She devoured the mashed potatoes and moved to the peas. The gravvy was the best she ever tasted in her life. But she began to notice that these cravings were not her own. She slowed as she got to the chicken, something telling her not to eat it. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Voldemort watching her, not touching his own food, which she noted now that it had no gravvy on it at all. She dropped her fork and stared at him hard, a growl working in her throat.

"What did you do?" she growled. Voldemort began to laugh, a harsh shrill laugh that echoed off the walls and made her ears hurt. She felt herself getting drowsy and stood in effort to untempt herself into falling asleep. The chain jerked, forcing her to bend over e bit. Voldemort looked at her with glowing eyes.

"Dear child, you know I am not a patient man. Seven months for a baby is far to long. We'll need to speed things up a bit!" He said with a crazy tone. Kyra clutched her stomache as he stood and walked over to her. Soon, a wretching pain tore through her abdoman, streaking her vision with red. All she could remeber saying "Bastard," before she hit the ground.

I know it's been a while but I don't think I am going to continue this story. I have another story that i want to write in mind and unless someone takes this story off my hands, it will be updated randomly or after my other story is done. I will be posting a new story on the catagory Twilight called Amethyst Skies- go to my profile for the summary.