Chapter 1 : Only Way Out
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 5|
Background: Font color:
Disclaimer: I donít own anything remotely associated with the wondrous mind of Madame JK.
WARANING: There is a seen that has cutting in it. Done by Bella, she is enjoying it, yes, but she is a psycho, Regulus recognizes that sheís not right in the head, please do the same and abstain from hurting yourself. Itís not cool, period.
Iím dieing. I know Iím dieing. But this is the only way out. This is the only way to atone for the sins I have committed, the wrongs I have made. The judgment is now, and I know that if I am to burn in hell for all of eternity it will never make up for the horrible life I have led. This is my one last chance to do right. And maybe, maybe one day he will be able to forgive me for not following in his footsteps.
Oh, this hurts. I didnít think death would hurt this much, but at the hands of a Death Eater, I think death is always painful. I should think, yes. Thinking takes my mind of the pain, at least the physical. I wonder if he hurt as much as I do now? And by he I mean, Benjy Fenwick, the man I killed. Murdered. The man I murdered. I tortured him first of course. Itís what all Death Eaters are trained to do. Sometimes when I try to sleep I can still hear him screaming.
I didnít mind the kill- excuse me, murdering, but the torture, I canít stand the way that haunts me. Penance I suppose for taking the life of an honest man. A good man, a man who led a life I never could. A man who fought for the light. Poor Fenwick, the horrors I committed against him. He is probably savoring the slowness of my death as we speak. Or rather, he should be, but no, he was better then that. Right before I murdered him, he told me that he forgave me.
Do you know what words like that do to a person? I can tell you what it did to me. It drove me mad. After he was dead, I couldnít stop. I destroyed his body. I took his life and his dignity. If my memory serves me correctly, my rage ended, and I left as fast as I could. They, his comrades and peers, only ever found scraps of what his proud body had once been.
When I read about Benjyís murder in the paper, every gruesome detail, I couldnít believe that I had done such a thing. But I had hadnít I? And for what you might ask? To earn my Mark. To earn the Mark, Voldemortís Mark, you had to commit a murder. The higher up on his hit list, the higher the standing you received with him. Benjy Fenwick hadnít been too high up, but no one thought Iíd ever be able to kill someone. They were so proud of me, my parents were proud of me for murdering an innocent man.
That is of course why I did it. I wanted to make my parents proud of me. I had so much to live up to in their eyes. I had to be twice the son, because Sirius wasnít at all what they had wanted. No, he was too good a person to be the monster I have become. The monster I became so that my mother would look at me with pride and adoration in her sleek gray eyes. The kind of monster my father respected and bragged about to all of his high class, Pureblood, manic friends. The ones who wished that their sons and daughters could be like me, could serve the Dark Lord so faithfully.
I can feel my world beginning to slip through the cracks of life. Itís almost comforting to know that Iím going to die a potential hero. But no one will ever know what I did to earn a death like this. No, my name will forever be associated with the terms murderer and coward. What would they all say if they knew? Even Voldemort doesnít know what I did, other wise itíd be him killing me now. Everyone thinks Iím just being killed because I wanted out. But thatís the thing, I do want out. And I know that dieing is my only escape from this.
I destroyed part of his soul. It makes me proud to say that. I hope one day they all know how I was not a coward; that I did something for the better of the world, not for the benefit of this raving madman. He so enjoys the pain of others. I believe thatís why he marks us as he does.
I still remember the night as if it were yesterday. The second night that haunts my dreams. It was a week after I had murdered Benjy, and I still hadnít fully recovered. Not that that mattered really. There were only two of us receiving our Marks that night. The two of us and each of our donors stood before the Dark Lord, poised and ready to do his bidding.
By donors, I mean the person who was willing to sacrifice some of their blood to use as the ink of our Dark Mark. My cousin Bella was mine. She was so completely proud of me, had been praising me all week, promising me that I would enjoy serving her master. I didnít really believe her then, or now. She isnít right in the head and I fear for her. She was sweet once, Bella was. But now, sheís too corrupted to be saved.
The Dark Lord had us kneel next to one another, and then handed Bella a dagger. What she did next I couldnít believe. It made me sick to watch her lovingly open a vein from her wrist and hold it up to her Master. She looked like a puppy awaiting approval. It was sickening, I have never seen someone so hopelessly faithful to such a monster.
But the Dark Lord took her wrist in his hand and squeezed as hard as he could. The sound of Bellaís screams filled the night air. I almost lost it then, by it I mean everything that had been in my stomach at the time. Iíve never really liked the sight of blood. Next he took his wand and ran it along her self inflicted wound. Poor Bella screamed again, this time louder then I ever thought anyone could scream. But the scarcest thing was that she was still smiling, her eyes so full of wonder and awe. I swear sheís sick in the head.
What he did next made me sicker still. Grabbing for my arm, the Dark Lord lanced the skin of my forearm with his wand, still dripping with Bellaís blood. Yet another scream erupted from the night, this one however had come from my own mouth. It felt like acid was slowly replacing all the blood in my body; corrupting and blackening my soul with every second. I remember nothing after that. I blacked out and when I awoke hours, maybe even a full day later, Bella was sitting beside my bed, a hectic smile spread across her thin lips. She kissed my forehead and told me how proud of me she was. And how proud the master was. Apparently, I lasted a while withering and jerking in pain after I had been marked. That had pleased the master, and from the look on her face it had pleased Bella too. It would be another three days until I could bring myself to even look at the accursed black ink on my arm. It was hideous.
I canít think anymore. Even that hurts too much. The one thing I will stop myself from doing however is screaming. This time I will not scream. I have no need to thrill Bellaís husband and the other man who are killing me. When Iím dead they wonít matter to me any more. They will have to find a new rookie to knock around.
Iím dieing. I have resigned myself to that fate. I welcome it really, the cool painless sleep it promises. And here in this cave that will serve as my tomb; I ask the forgiveness of one man. No, it is not that of the Dark Lord, whom I have so faithfully served up until these past three days. Not at all. Why would I seek the forgiveness of a monster, a madman; a heartless being incapable of fulfilling my last request? I seek the forgiveness of one man. The only man who ever tried to show me another world, the one living person I should have been listening to all theses years and didnít. Maybe someday he will hear of how I died and be proud of me. I think part of me has always wanted to make him proud. Maybe someday my brother will be told that I died at the hands of Death Eaters, not because I was trying to abandon their ranks. No Iím not dieing now because I simply tried to run away. No Iím being murdered for something much more treacherous, and daring. Do you understand? Iím dieing now because I did something brave. I am not dieing a coward. I am dieing proudly, for doing the right thing. I hope someone tells him. I hope heís proud of me. And most of all, I pray my brother will be able to forgive me.
Iím dieing now, I can feel it; my life slipping through the cracks. But I am proud of what I have done. I have stated the Dark Lordís eventual decent. I destroyed the locket. It was my only way out. Death is my only escape.
AN: Well fin. What did you think? Review because it makes me happy?
Other Similar Stories
For Fear of ...