Look what you made me do
The cell they held her in was dark and dank. But she supposed it was a prison, it wasn't like she didn't deserve worse. Especially for what she had done.
Her hands were chained above her head. And her body was bare. They said she didn't need clothes for what they had in store for her. Her green, green eyes glowed ominously in the dark she could feel her magic dancing beneath her skin. Begging to be let out. To ravage and burn those responsible for placing her here. They thought they could break her. They didn't know she already was.
Killing her godson had been the last straw. They paid for it. In blood. A smile came upon her face when she thought about their screams. There pitiful pleas for mercy. Mercy. She scoffed. Where was their mercy, when they ripped Hermione apart? Where was their mercy when they burned Ron? Where was their, oh-so-precious mercy when they lay her baby boy to rest by brutally beating him. Barely alive when she made it to him.
The light in her eyes burned brighter and the manacles holding her in place glowed red hot trying to suppress the power that was simmering beneath her skin. Her perfect teeth were stained with blood. She knew they were watching her. On the other side of the glass.
How she would kill to know their names. Oh, she shivered at the delicious thought. She enjoyed ripping those bastards apart for what they did. Teddy didn't deserve what they did to him. But they deserved. Everything. She did to them. The sound of their screams bouncing off the ruins of the walls of the building. She remembered tearing out their tongues when their pleads got too. Distracting. From her task. Of burning the skin from their bones. Keeping them alive and piecing them back together. So she could tear them apart. Again. And again. And again.
They tried to do the same to her. But they couldn't. They were too... Soft. Their weak stomachs wouldn't allow it. She chuckled lightly at the memory of the amateur they sent in. A green boy. Vomiting violently to the side when they cursed her. Her skin peeling slowly. Painfully. At least that's what they thought when she laughed. A high pitched maniacal sound. She likened it to Bellabitch. Lestrange indeed. Or when they turned her inside out. Her internal organs hanging from her inside out skin. Their faces. She laughed again. Oh, their faces. She grinned at the glass.
Behind it, they shivered when they took in her naked and bloodied malnourished form, and the ugly evil smile she graced them with.
Another laugh was ripped from her chest when they began another round of her magic-induced torture. Removing her limbs joint by joint. They watched her as she pieced herself back together her muscles and tendons knitting themselves closed. More blood-stained her. They grimaced and flinched when she laughed. She haunted their dreams. Nightmares really.
She moaned deliciously when her magic reacted to the torture. Absorbing it. Pulling it into her. Strengthening her. Empowering her. The manacles glowed again scorching her skin. The smell of burning flesh reached her nose and she frowned lightly. It didn't hurt her particularly nor did the smell disturb her. No, it was the strange new fuzzy feeling she was getting. The manacles where melting. Her observer's eyes widened in horror when they fell at her feet. Dropping her on the ground. She stood up her legs shaking slightly from the lack of use.
Her head snapped up and they flinched when they met her eyes. They glowed brightly and her pale skin practically shone. No, it did shine. It was getting brighter. The averted her eyes when she got too bright to look at. When the light faded their jaws were stuck to the ground. From her back were. Wings. Large menacing black and red wings were spread wide in the cramped cell where their prisoner resided. They screamed when the iron door was blasted from its hinges at the twitch of her fingers.
They scattered bumping and climbing over each other at they tried to get out before her wrathful vengeance touched them. She reeked of Malevolence. And it was all their fault. They made her this way. They brought their pain upon themselves. Admittedly she inflicted that pain. While she laughed.
She didn't like them anyway. She thought as she stepped over them. She got what she felt she had deserved. Now though. It was their turn. Woman-who-conquered indeed. They would all get was coming to them. She stretched her wings when she felt the fresh cleanness of the air on her bare skin. For the first time in her life. She felt free. Nothing to hold her back. No one for her to protect or worry about. She was shedding the skin of that once pure and innocent abused little girl she had been. Once and for all. Helena Potter was Dead. The bright shining light had gone out long ago.
Now though. The world would bow before her. Or burn.
Long Live the Queen. Hela smiled and disappeared with a flap of her wings.
Oh-kay... I have no idea where this came from but I was listening to Taylor Swift when I wrote it... That's where I got the title from... Hope you enjoyed it I suppose.