Title: Running Away
Summary: Strong, darkish, HOT, Harry! It's time to get rid of this pitiful Gryffindor mask, and become the Slytherin I was supposed to be. This is the re-write! WARNING SLASH HPTR.
Warnings: SLASH (male/male) pairings, swearing, violence, Evil! Slytherin! Harry!
Pairings: HP/TMR/ ?
Disclaimer: What are u looking at me for? I don't own it!
Previously: "What is it Malfoy?" Thomas grunts out his eyes still on Harry.
"The mark on the side of his face, it can't be can it?"
Thomas took a closer look upon the side of Harry's face his eyes widening only slightly.
"Yes Malfoy I believe it is."
Abraxas's face went completely pale his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Ho-How can this be?"
"Meeting is cancelled tonight tell the others, and I shall find out," Thomas slowly stands from his seat; taking one last glance at Harry he stalks out of the Great Hall furiously heading towards the dungeons.
{{{{+}}}}
Slow heart dark wait down love black canvas
Revolve within, you understand
Fragile earth where cracks in the temperature
Keep it cool to give, you understand
Keep it cool to give, you understand
Slow heart dark wait down love black canvas
Revolve within, you understand
Fragile earth where cracks in the temperature
Keep it cool to give, you understand
Cause I just can't find the strength to pull you up and keep you taut
No I just can't find the strength to hold you up and keep you taut
Hijacked lost track light fades another day left
Long shadows lure you in
The more you look the less you see
So close your eyes and start to breathe
Oh, suit yourself, this wasn't easy
Mm, suit yourself this wasn't easy
Oh, I just can't find the strength to pull you up and keep you taut
No, I just can't find the strength to hold you up and keep you taut
{{{{+}}}}
June 1938 (10 months later at the Orphanage)
Thomas eyes flashed in anger his body trembling, a burst of magic escaped him; pulling the dagger out of Wilson's hold and stabbing him in his chest repeatedly. Thomas watched his eyes gleaming in satisfaction as crimson blood began pouring out Wilson's wound. Wilson fell onto his knees, looking up at Thomas his grey eyes out of focus.
"Help me." He splutters out coughing up blood.
"No, I think I might watch you die Wilson." Thomas laughs cruelly.
"Thomas...ple-please...help me." Wilson gasps out in ragged breathes; blood dripping down his chin.
Walking forward Thomas knees in front of the older boy; his eyes glossy in pleasure, he grabs the hilt of Slytherin's dagger and twists it slightly to the right. Wilson's screams were music to Thomas's ears, blood spluttered onto his thin fingers; whimpers escaped Wilson's mouth, experimenting Thomas pushes the dagger into the boy faintly.
"If I push the dagger in the right direction it will pierce your heart and you will die instantly,' Thomas brushed the hilt down a bit making the older boy hitch his breath in pain."...But I don't want to kill you just yet..."
Standing to his feet Thomas inspects the blood on his fingers, a look of disgust crossed his features; he looks down at the older boy once again and sneers out.
"You a fifthly muggle, think that you are better than me; Your a pathetic muggle, you should be begging me to end your miserable life."
Thomas grabs the back of Wilson's head, harshly pulling his head up making the older boy look into his green eyes.
"Beg me." Thomas hisses out his eyes narrow.
Looking up defiantly Wilson shakes his head.
"Never" He spits on Thomas shoes.
Taking the hilt of the dagger and pushing it in harshly. Thomas looks down into Wilson's grey eyes and whispers angrily.
"Last chance for a painless death, beg me."
A tear runs down Wilson's face, a bubbling wet cough escapes his lips; blood splutters out of his mouth and he gasps out.
"Burn in hell RIDDLE!"
Thomas pulls the dagger fiercely out of Wilson's chest, making the boy wheeze and hack in pain; he grips Wilson's hair and pulls it down making the boys throat exposed to him; looking down at the dagger in his hand and then at the pale throat he brings it down swiftly slicing the boy's throat.
Wilson's eyes dulled as the life in them dies out slowly, his body falls to the stained covered grass; all the while a sadistic smile crosses Thomas face.
Thomas Riddle; had made his first kill.