Drabble: A Dementor's Love
Title: A Dementor's Love
Author: dexstarr
Word Count: 250
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for Week #1: Life After Death Challenge at deathly_contest.
Characters: Barty Crouch Jr.
Warnings: None
Author's Note: None
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR, and are not mine.
Summary: Barty has been kissed by the Dementors - is he alive or dead?
***
He sees white walls, black stone, grey bricks - the color changes when he tries to fixate on it.
He hears the roar of waves, the crack of thunder, the whistle of the wind - the sound too changes.
Sometimes he sees figures wrapped in black, their ragged robes dragging along the ground, and thinks himself locked in Azkaban. But then he sees Winky, and is back in his father’s house, trapped in luxury.
He knows he had a father and a mother - for how else would he have been born? - but he can only remember their physical attributes. His father’s black hair. His mother’s blue eyes. He doesn’t know how he felt about them. Did he love his mother? Did he crave his father’s approval?
There is a vivid brand on his left arm, a fanged snake emerging from a skull, and he knows it is the Dark Lord’s sign. But he can’t recall the pride of earning his mark, or what drove him to join the Death Eaters.
He is an empty shell, a husk of a man.
The greedy hunger of a slack, skeletal mouth had ripped out his soul, sucking it into a long, silvery thread that floated from his body to the waiting Dementor. It hadn’t even hurt to lose his humanity, his emotions, his feelings, his memories.
He knows his name is Bartemius Crouch Jr., and that’s the only thing he’s sure of.
He doesn’t even know if he is alive or dead.
***
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Author: dexstarr
Word Count: 250
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Written for Week #1: Life After Death Challenge at deathly_contest.
Characters: Barty Crouch Jr.
Warnings: None
Author's Note: None
Disclaimer: HP and all assorted belong to JKR, and are not mine.
Summary: Barty has been kissed by the Dementors - is he alive or dead?
***
He sees white walls, black stone, grey bricks - the color changes when he tries to fixate on it.
He hears the roar of waves, the crack of thunder, the whistle of the wind - the sound too changes.
Sometimes he sees figures wrapped in black, their ragged robes dragging along the ground, and thinks himself locked in Azkaban. But then he sees Winky, and is back in his father’s house, trapped in luxury.
He knows he had a father and a mother - for how else would he have been born? - but he can only remember their physical attributes. His father’s black hair. His mother’s blue eyes. He doesn’t know how he felt about them. Did he love his mother? Did he crave his father’s approval?
There is a vivid brand on his left arm, a fanged snake emerging from a skull, and he knows it is the Dark Lord’s sign. But he can’t recall the pride of earning his mark, or what drove him to join the Death Eaters.
He is an empty shell, a husk of a man.
The greedy hunger of a slack, skeletal mouth had ripped out his soul, sucking it into a long, silvery thread that floated from his body to the waiting Dementor. It hadn’t even hurt to lose his humanity, his emotions, his feelings, his memories.
He knows his name is Bartemius Crouch Jr., and that’s the only thing he’s sure of.
He doesn’t even know if he is alive or dead.
***
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