Chapter four, we get to see the beginning of everything. If you have read the prologue as i recommended, you might see that the story is beginning to fulfill the prophecy that's set in motion with the whole "One who is two"

Anyways, I don't know what else to say here, other than please leave a review?

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The child's eyes shot open, blood red windows to the world that glowed unnaturally in the darkness. The horcrux had awakened.

The last thing that Tom's soul remembered was entering a house, and then there was darkness. Now they found themselves in the body of a child that was around eight or nine summers, trapped within a dark room.

The soul fragment piloted the child's body around a little awkwardly at first. It had been a while since they had walked, much less moved. This body was wracked with continuous pain as well… Tom didn't know what to make of it.

In any case, the horcrux understood that this much pain required rest in order to be alleviated, so after shakily relearning how to walk, they sat down and began to look their new body over.

Their vessels skin was quite fair, although there were parts of it that bore blotchy scars from burns or infected bruises that had eventually healed. Their shoulders and chest felt rough from blade scars, some criss crossed, and others thicker, more calculated. This body had been subjected to alteration, that much was certain.

The odd part about this new body was that it was that of a boy. For some reason, the horcrux could understand that, but their lower body bore no male genitals. Instead there was a strange mimicry of what a woman's genitals should look like. It looked completely alike to what he had seen in his younger years, but there was nothing beyond the surface and the cavity that extended into their body. There was no womb, no ovaries…

For a moment, Tom's temper flared, and a hint of lord Voldemort made it into their mind as they became enraged. This body had been mangled. Their host had been tormented and torn apart.

The rage quickly turned to fear. Did the magicals know? Did they recognize the magic of a horcrux and neglect the child because of it? Such a thing made their stomach churn, the horrors that the child would have endured because of their accidental magic…

But what did that mean for Tom? If Dumbledore knew of the accidental horcrux, that meant that they would be destroyed. If the man found out that the soul fragment had gained sentience, then they would be annihilated. The horcrux feared what the future would hold, before a sound resolve overtook them.

For all of their faults, Tom Riddle had still been a wizard. Certainly, he had been corrupted beyond normal reason, but that didn't mean that he didn't care about things. He had begun to turn to the dark arts after finding out how horrible his lineage was. The Gaunts were a vicious family, and they had mistreated his mother. His mother, who died when he was young. He was a product of gross negligence, but he still harbored good in his soul,

Where had it all gone wrong?

For whatever reason, Tom decided to forget about the past. Now, they were in a new body, trapped in a dark room at some strange torture house. They were going to have to protect themselves, and the child they controlled. It didn't matter whether they had to kill others themselves, or force the child to do it.

For now, they would need to exercise this body's magic, build it up to a usable amount.

Tom sighed and decided to start with sparks. Basic casting was always the start of every wizard or witch's study. It was the easiest way to measure magical pairings with wands, and the easiest way to view how much power you could put behind a spell. So it was where the horcrux decided to start.

Granted, it was more difficult without a wand, but wandless magic was not impossible, it was just a sort of… lost art. He had been regretfully poor at it in his prime, due to the fact that he never practiced much without a wand.

But one could always start somewhere.

Tom wiggled the small fingers of his vessel's body, letting a few sparks fly. There wasn't a significant drain in the body's magic, but it was noticeable to Tom. The lack of magic was most likely due to the child not practicing magic. He could change that.

Tom let more sparks fly, draining the body's internal magic quite a bit, before deciding to fall asleep.

The sleep was brief, lasting mere moments. In his first dream in years, Tom saw the blurry form of a small child, looking at a tall figure in shadowy robes.

He was pulled from sleep by an off putting man, who wore a white muggle lab coat and had yellowed teeth. Beside the man was a nurse who betrayed the idea of what a nurse should look like.

The man checked the host body. It was utterly repulsive and downright violating, but Tom found that he could not focus enough to retaliate. The pain that throbbed beneath the skin prevented him from mustering any strength.

He would have to fix the injuries.

The two left Tom with a single apple as their breakfast. Tom looked at it with a frown, before eating it slowly. He would have to practice some duplication for proper nutrition, but that would come later.

After eating the apple, Tom waited for an hour. He could see his "room" more clearly now. It was quite plain. Wooden floors and white walls, a single bed and nothing else. The lack of anything would be quite maddening to a normal person.

Eventually, the nurse came into the room and grabbed him. He was led to a strange white bed with leather straps on it.

'A child should not be strapped to a mattress… that is much too… adult.'

Tom winced as he was grabbed by the nurse and forced onto the bed, before being strapped into the restraints. His confusion gave way to fear as he realized that this bed was not for an adult act, but rather some type of horrific torture.

"Bite down on this, miss Ella."

That wasn't his name, it wasn't the child's name either. Somehow, he just knew it wasn't…

And then everything erupted into flashing lights and color. Pain was everywhere, burning through their veins and ripping apart every nerve. Tom could only see flickers that reminded him of fireworks, but they were much to bright, and they burned.

Muscles spasmed and tensed. Tom felt the fingers of their hands curl in and back at odd angles. The pain was unbearable.

And then it stopped. The world returned slowly through a haze of pain. Tom could hear the nurse speaking to him gently, addressing him as Ella… Ella? Who was Ella?

The nurse left them in their room. Tom remained motionless, his mind still processing the extreme torment that he had just been put through.

Such torment was beyond what he thought possible. He had been exposed to the cruciatus curse, but that barely held a candle to the horrors he had just experience. The torture curse could drive one mad after an extended exposure of hours, that feeling… it could drive one mad in seconds. Truthfully, that single exposure to the electric current had confused him beyond belief, and he was already wondering if his name was actually Tom.

After some time passed, the nurse came back and gave Tom a tray of food. A dry sandwich, a cup of water, and an orange. Tom shakily ate the food, finishing off the meager meal as the tray was being taken.

After another hour, Tom was led to the bathroom, before being brought back to the bed. His eyes widened in horror but the vessel was too fatigued to do anything. Tom was strapped into the restraints and felt the mouthguard get shoved into his mouth.

"Sorry Ella, it's just what needs to be done."

The world erupted once more into bright flashes of color. Tom screamed as pain tore through their body, but no sound emanated from the horcrux's vessel.

"And your second round of shock treatment is done! How are you feeling, Miss Ella?"

The Horcrux's consciousness was wavering. They just nodded before slumping in the woman's arms. The nurse nodded to the doctor, before carrying the child's body back to its room. Itr was no earlier than midnight when the horcrux regained consciousness.

'What hell is this?' The horcrux thought as it blinked through the haze of pain. Nevertheless, it did not break. It couldn't break.

The dark shard of soul forced its vessel to sit up. It grit its teeth as it raised its arm. "No… we will make a better life…"

Orange and red sparks drifted off of the child's hands, the dull glow of each tiny fleck of magic illuminating the crazed face of the possessed child.

"We will make a better world…"

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Chapter four, done and dusted.

I really don't have much to say, as I said in the beginning. Idk, It's 2 in the morning rn and I need sleep.

Until next time,

Adios.