(no subject)
Who? Amycus Carrow, Sirius Black and James Potter the Elder
What? You really shouldn't dare a sociopath to try and break you. Sirius will remember that eventually.
Why? Because Carrow is an evil bitch and those Marauders are just begging to be played with?
When? Now.
Title: Kinda I want to.
Rating: Hard R for violence and torture.
Author's notes: I'm not kidding with the rating. If you have a weak stomach or images of graphic violence and sadistic games squick you this thread is not for you.
Some people only resort to violence in the name of a cause. The noble who believe that spilled blood should be reserved for wars. They find it helps them sleep at night when they dream of blood on their hands that they can't wash clean. These people are usually the ones who only make a move when it will benefit their cause. These people usually end up haunted by the sounds of the screams of those they left scattered at their feet when they walked off the battlefield.
Amycus Carrow was not one of those people.
The sound of screams was like music to his ears. The sweet sound of someone breaking down as they shatter like a mirror tossed to the floor. There was beauty to be found in blood, sweat, tears and screams. There had been people who wished to understand what motivated him to do the things he did. How could he prey on children? How could he look himself in the mirror after tormenting those future witches and wizards for a school year?
He slept quite well at night, thank you very much.
You see he broke them because he could. They were there, and they needed to learn that the world was cruel and hard. No, don't kid yourself, he didn't break them to make them stronger. He wasn't trying to build an army in the Dark Lord's name. No, he wasn't that arrogant to overstep his place. The Dark Lord was quite skilled in building and molding his followers. Amycus tortured those children because he liked it. He kept the knife he used during that year. At night, when he was laying half-awake, waiting for his mark to burn or his master to call for just him, he would open and close the knife. A flick of light reflecting off the silver of the sharpened blade. He could recount their names perfectly. Neville Longbottom refused to scream. Ginny Weasley spit in his face. Sweet Luna Lovegood stared at him through wide blue eyes until a soft sound escaped from her lips.
There were more of course. Those who pleaded for mercy when they were in the chains. Those who thought they could make a deal with him. Spare them and they'll tell everything they knew about their friends. He separated the warriors from the sacrifices. Amycus could tell who could be broken, who needed to be broken, and who would provide the biggest challenge.
Sirius Black fell into all three categories. He licked his lips in anticipation for their date. Twirling his knife in his hand he kept his wand in his robes. Oh he didn't expect Black to resist of course. No, people like Sirius were too stubborn and full of pride to simply end it before it began. He needed to prove to Amycus that he couldn't be mastered. It was endearing in a way. It was foolish of course, but you could always count on a Gryffindor to do something foolish. It was part of their charm. Most Slytherins didn't appreciate it, but Amycus wasn't like most Slytherins.
Black had made a deal; himself to spare Potter's father and children. It was sort of cute the way he expected this deal to be honored. When would those silly lions realize that the conniving cobra could not be trusted to be honorable? There was no true honor in war anyway. Blood was blood. It didn't matter if you spilled it for a noble cause or because you were merely bored. It stained the walls and your hands just the same. Sure, you could hide behind hexes and curses. They were wizards and witches after all. The avada kedavra was a neat little curse. Shot of green light and it was a painless death.
Really now. Where was the fun in that?
Amycus appreciated the lost art of hands on torture. Who needs to rely completely on crucio when you have a knife, chains, and half a dozen hot pokers warming in a fire place? Oh the classics. Why must the current generations lose sight of the classics?
Bellatrix appreciated them. He'd heard about what she did to Potter. She was a master at inflicting pain. Amycus liked that about her. In a way it made him feel as if they were bonded in a way he couldn't bond with most anyone else. Alecto, yes she was efficient and cruel, but sometimes Amycus wondered if she enjoyed the screams and blood as much as he did, or if this was merely a way to serve her lord. It didn't matter. As long as he was enjoying himself what difference did it make for anyone else?
Truth be told this thing with Black had nothing to do with The Dark Lord. Sure, he was quite confident that Sirius had secrets to spill from his soon to be bruised and bloody lips. They had been trying to find out who the secret keeper for the Order was. Amycus had his theories. If the wolf pup couldn't give them answers perhaps Black could. They'd tried and failed with two previous order members, but Amycus had no plans to actually kill Sirius Black.
Maybe he'd take a leaf out of old Peter Pettigrew's notebook and kill the spare instead. James Potter was more than a spare actually. He was the boy who lived's father. Maybe he knew a secret or two. If not? His screams might help loosen his best friend Black's tongue. It all would work out in the end. Amycus would enjoy coaxing out every scream, every tear, every broken bone, and when he was done? He'd send the memory to Harry Potter to savor.
Really now. Black honestly expected him to be honorable with this deal? Oh Sirius, you have a thing or two to learn after all, Lad.
Amycus stood in the shadows and waited for some sign of his sacrificial lamb. He was ready to visit the altar. His blade was ready to prepare the offering. Perhaps The Dark Lord would be impressed by his initiative. Perhaps he would consider this betrayal because he was acting on his own accord. Honestly, this wasn't a move for power. This was a means to an end that benefited Amycus Carrow. He'd teach Black a thing or two, drive Harry Potter one step closer to his breaking point, and perhaps he'd return with the name of the secret keeper.
Not bad for a couple of day's work, yeah?
What? You really shouldn't dare a sociopath to try and break you. Sirius will remember that eventually.
Why? Because Carrow is an evil bitch and those Marauders are just begging to be played with?
When? Now.
Title: Kinda I want to.
Rating: Hard R for violence and torture.
Author's notes: I'm not kidding with the rating. If you have a weak stomach or images of graphic violence and sadistic games squick you this thread is not for you.
Some people only resort to violence in the name of a cause. The noble who believe that spilled blood should be reserved for wars. They find it helps them sleep at night when they dream of blood on their hands that they can't wash clean. These people are usually the ones who only make a move when it will benefit their cause. These people usually end up haunted by the sounds of the screams of those they left scattered at their feet when they walked off the battlefield.
Amycus Carrow was not one of those people.
The sound of screams was like music to his ears. The sweet sound of someone breaking down as they shatter like a mirror tossed to the floor. There was beauty to be found in blood, sweat, tears and screams. There had been people who wished to understand what motivated him to do the things he did. How could he prey on children? How could he look himself in the mirror after tormenting those future witches and wizards for a school year?
He slept quite well at night, thank you very much.
You see he broke them because he could. They were there, and they needed to learn that the world was cruel and hard. No, don't kid yourself, he didn't break them to make them stronger. He wasn't trying to build an army in the Dark Lord's name. No, he wasn't that arrogant to overstep his place. The Dark Lord was quite skilled in building and molding his followers. Amycus tortured those children because he liked it. He kept the knife he used during that year. At night, when he was laying half-awake, waiting for his mark to burn or his master to call for just him, he would open and close the knife. A flick of light reflecting off the silver of the sharpened blade. He could recount their names perfectly. Neville Longbottom refused to scream. Ginny Weasley spit in his face. Sweet Luna Lovegood stared at him through wide blue eyes until a soft sound escaped from her lips.
There were more of course. Those who pleaded for mercy when they were in the chains. Those who thought they could make a deal with him. Spare them and they'll tell everything they knew about their friends. He separated the warriors from the sacrifices. Amycus could tell who could be broken, who needed to be broken, and who would provide the biggest challenge.
Sirius Black fell into all three categories. He licked his lips in anticipation for their date. Twirling his knife in his hand he kept his wand in his robes. Oh he didn't expect Black to resist of course. No, people like Sirius were too stubborn and full of pride to simply end it before it began. He needed to prove to Amycus that he couldn't be mastered. It was endearing in a way. It was foolish of course, but you could always count on a Gryffindor to do something foolish. It was part of their charm. Most Slytherins didn't appreciate it, but Amycus wasn't like most Slytherins.
Black had made a deal; himself to spare Potter's father and children. It was sort of cute the way he expected this deal to be honored. When would those silly lions realize that the conniving cobra could not be trusted to be honorable? There was no true honor in war anyway. Blood was blood. It didn't matter if you spilled it for a noble cause or because you were merely bored. It stained the walls and your hands just the same. Sure, you could hide behind hexes and curses. They were wizards and witches after all. The avada kedavra was a neat little curse. Shot of green light and it was a painless death.
Really now. Where was the fun in that?
Amycus appreciated the lost art of hands on torture. Who needs to rely completely on crucio when you have a knife, chains, and half a dozen hot pokers warming in a fire place? Oh the classics. Why must the current generations lose sight of the classics?
Bellatrix appreciated them. He'd heard about what she did to Potter. She was a master at inflicting pain. Amycus liked that about her. In a way it made him feel as if they were bonded in a way he couldn't bond with most anyone else. Alecto, yes she was efficient and cruel, but sometimes Amycus wondered if she enjoyed the screams and blood as much as he did, or if this was merely a way to serve her lord. It didn't matter. As long as he was enjoying himself what difference did it make for anyone else?
Truth be told this thing with Black had nothing to do with The Dark Lord. Sure, he was quite confident that Sirius had secrets to spill from his soon to be bruised and bloody lips. They had been trying to find out who the secret keeper for the Order was. Amycus had his theories. If the wolf pup couldn't give them answers perhaps Black could. They'd tried and failed with two previous order members, but Amycus had no plans to actually kill Sirius Black.
Maybe he'd take a leaf out of old Peter Pettigrew's notebook and kill the spare instead. James Potter was more than a spare actually. He was the boy who lived's father. Maybe he knew a secret or two. If not? His screams might help loosen his best friend Black's tongue. It all would work out in the end. Amycus would enjoy coaxing out every scream, every tear, every broken bone, and when he was done? He'd send the memory to Harry Potter to savor.
Really now. Black honestly expected him to be honorable with this deal? Oh Sirius, you have a thing or two to learn after all, Lad.
Amycus stood in the shadows and waited for some sign of his sacrificial lamb. He was ready to visit the altar. His blade was ready to prepare the offering. Perhaps The Dark Lord would be impressed by his initiative. Perhaps he would consider this betrayal because he was acting on his own accord. Honestly, this wasn't a move for power. This was a means to an end that benefited Amycus Carrow. He'd teach Black a thing or two, drive Harry Potter one step closer to his breaking point, and perhaps he'd return with the name of the secret keeper.
Not bad for a couple of day's work, yeah?