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Chapter thirteen: Castor's POV
I felt my eyes flutter open, slowly. My breath was ragged and I could barely move, I twitched my hands but immediately regretted the decision, feeling the ropes slice even further into my exposed wrists. I didn't have my wand. No wand. No escape. The room was dark, only the occasional creek of floorboards disrupted the ominous silence that suffocated all hope and forced blades of fear to slice into my withered body. I twitched my hands again, feeling them slice through the air. Out of a small window with bars across it I could just make out the moonlight that flooded into the room, illuminating a small patch of cold stone group. I gulped. There was blood on the ground… my blood.
"Hello darling," My whole body froze. My nails dug into my palms, a few slight dribbles of blood fell from my hands, as my eyes widened at the cackling voice that was still shrouded in shadows, in a corner of the room somewhere.
My breathing quickened as I heard the clicking of heels, my heart thumped, almost deafening me as it pounded. My teeth grinded together as I begged myself not to scream, not to make a noise. She began to get closer, I heard her giggle slightly, it was cold and malevolent and my nails only digged further into my palms, slicing the pale milky flesh into tattered ribbons of red. My lips quivered as I began to bite down hard on my tongue, desperately trying to stop any noise escaping my mouth. No matter how hard it clawed and how hard it begged, scratching and ripping at my red raw throat I wouldn't allow a scream to leave as I tried to gulp down the soreness that consumed my throat due to the effort.
"Don't you want to talk to me?" I could just imagine her pouting, a demonic glint entering her eyes. Then I didn't have to imagine anymore, as she slinked beside me, she pressed her face up close to my cheek, her breath hitting the flesh, no doubt raising goose bumps. Despite myself I noticed the bad breath that flickered from her mouth, no doubt Azkaban had done that to her.
Her cheeks were gaunt and hollow, her face pale, still it managed to retain that haughty look of self-importance that I'd seen so many times in the face of Draco Malfoy. Still, hers was laced with a manic, deranged undertone, one that Malfoy had thankfully yet to possess.
She giggled even more, her foul breath hit my face again, the warmth of it caused me to cringe and shiver even more in fear. Her cold, dangling fingers brushed lightly against my cheek, taking up the place where her lips and breath had once been, I was sure that I was sweating now, I was definitely shaking. The violent and bloody clawing of my voice was finally overpowering, it ripped through me, tearing at my throat, I was finally unable to keep the demon that was my own voice inside. I whimpered.
Now she had won, I had failed in my hope to try and seem unafraid, to seem unaffected by her. Still, how could I? Not when it was… it, her.
She cackled even more, her cruel laughter spreading through me, ripping me apart like daggers, slicing into me, slicing into my damaged soul and tearing it apart like it was only paper.
"Do you know what my best spell is Castor? What I'm… famous for?" She giggled, her fingers caressing my cheeks, her long nails tugged slightly at my flesh, causing a small gash to appear as she did the movement more violently. I hissed but she didn't seem to have even noticed that she'd cut me, her nails now dripped with blood slightly as she moved her fingers further up my face, they brushed against my hairline, causing the jet black hairs on my neck to stand on edge. I compressed the urge to be sick as she ran her hands through my hair, before she gripped savagely at a piece and yanked my head forward, the motion caused me to cry out. Her breath tickled my neck and ear again as she leaned in, "No? Oh you don't even know my favourite and best spell? Oh I'm hurt," I couldn't tell if she was mocking me or being serious, the madness that filled her voice made it pretty much impossible to tell, "The Cruciatus curse," that one sentence sent more shivers down my spine that a cold winters day. My eyes widened even more and I felt the blood from my cuts trickle effortlessly down my shuddering body as she pulled away from me. The whimpering began to fall from my mouth again as she pulled back her head and laughed, sending even more chills hurtling down my spine.
I had to speak, there was no way around it, I had to at least try, try and beg for my life, for the chance to not be plummeted into a world of pain thanks to the most feared witch in Britain, "Y-You're not going t-to… u-use it-," a harsh cold backhand smashed into my face, causing all the spit gathered in my mouth to fall, a few drops of blood fell onto my ragged white shirt, it was already covered in dirt and blood that it was more a dirty grey, these new drops didn't made much difference. I groaned, pulling my head up as my dazed vision cleared somewhat, the blurry lines beginning to focus so that I could make out her manic face glaring at me, her lips turned up slightly in a demonic smile.
"I can do what I want Castor… to whoever I want," she whispered, gripping my jaw tightly, "Including you."
The whimpers only grew worse but I felt her hands leave my face and I heard the clicking of heels as she began to pace slightly, her wand twirling around dramatically in her hands.
"Now… itty bitty baby Castor the thing is… should I use it on you?" She stopped at this, the noise of her heels no longer echoing against the stone walls as she turned to face him, her dark unruly hair illuminated by the moonlight pooling in through the window. The wild hair that was so like my hair, the wild, evil eyes that were so like my eyes. Cruel and monstrous.
"P-Please… n-no… p-please… mother," the word felt wrong in my mouth, it made me want to throw up, leaving a sower taste rippling against my tongue. It was even worse than the metallic taste of blood, it was sickening, wrong. Mums were supposed to care, to love… this one… god. I was sure that she wasn't capable of love. Not anymore. Tom Riddle had ruined for her, Azkaban had ruined that.
Her wand finished its last twirl as her fingers crawled across the frame and gripped it tightly, her wand arm raised, poised ready to strike, "It'll be some fun… some entertainment," she smiled, showing her rotting, yellow teeth.
"NO!" That was all I managed to shout before a flash of blinding hot knives consumed me.
It was over in a second and I looked around confused, I could hear screaming but it felt distant, detached, I looked down at my hands, they weren't tied, there were no bloody marks ripping into the skin.
I felt my forehead to find a hot sticky trail of sweat but no blood. Thankfully no blood. It finally clicked that it was me screaming, that I was in my bed at home, that I was covered in my own sweat. Aunty Andy burst in, her eyes frantic.
"Cas! Are you okay honey?" She sighed, sitting down next to me and bundling me into her arms, not caring that I was all sweaty.
I nodded my head feebly but I really wasn't I was terrified, the dream, it had been so vivid, so real… so horrible.
"Y-Yeah… I guess," I replied, pulling my aunt close, my hands wrapping around her as I nuzzled into her shoulder.
"It was about them wasn't it?" I used to have nightmares about my mum and dad when I was little but they'd never be that bad. My parents would usually just be blurry figures, they'd just say a few cruel things but it would never last that long, I'd never really see their faces in such vivid detail, I would only rarely feel pain and if I did it would be light. Still, that was enough to scare the life out of me but… but this dream, this was worse than anything that had come before.
Andy patted my hair, pulling me closer, not caring about the sweat, I could almost imagine her grimace, just thinking about her sister. I lifted my head to gaze into her eyes, she looked strong and defiant and this gave me hope, "No… it was just… her this time." I didn't dare tell her about how bad it was. I didn't want to send her into a total panic. She didn't have to bare the horrors that I had just experienced. She didn't deserve that.
"I'm sorry Cas, don't worry though, it was just a dream," she used to call me Cas when I was little, it was her nickname for me but once I got older I stopped liking it. Still, at times like these when I needed comforting it worked better than anything, I held onto her night dress like it was my lifeline.
"Yeah… a dream… just a dream," I whispered.
Okay hope you liked it. I just wanted to get a bit of drama in there with Bellatrix aha. Remember to review okay thanks!