"Let's Paint the Town Red" - continued

[mrs_morsus]

(This thread is linked hereThe party had been a grand affair, even by Pureblood Malfoy standards. Millicent was entirely delighted with the evening so far, and most anxious to rejoin her fellow like-minded Purebloods as they decided on their next diabolical move. She had memorized the way here, in this very secluded and private spot, knowing

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[mrs_morsus]

Millicent was impatient. Impatient to act, impatient to feel the man suffer under her unregistered wand, and impatient to see at least some part of the Death Eater cause, the superiority of Purebloods, survive the death of their Dark Lord. While the delicious Lucius put forth suggestions like a Chairman of the Board in his own private Board Room, and Bella LeStrange used the opportunity to reacquaint herself with family, Millicent kept her focus on the prey at hand, ignoring their words and posturing, she listened only to the rapid beating of her own heart at the thought of renewed pleasures too long abandoned.

She didn’t care what targets were chosen, nor what acts this tool of their destruction was cursed to perform. She only cared, for the moment, that they actually accomplished something. It had been far too long since the Death Eaters had played a role, any role, in their own society or destiny. This, at least, could be a first step. For this reason alone had she risked being out after her curfew. She’d apparated back to Morsus Mansion to make sure her registered wand was showing as “present and accounted for” at one of her chosen locations. She wanted this business attended to without delay.

Draco, acting at the daring urging of his Aunt, finally raised a wand in pain against the victim. She had hoped it would be Montague as she felt more of a vicarious thrill at such actions when it was her husband who tortured their prey, but it had been too long of a drought for her to care at the moment. When Draco finished, she stepped up to take a turn.

“As the Ministry appears to favour jewelry, perhaps you’d like some decorations of your own.” She flicked her wand in the air and growing welts filled with searing pain appeared around the throat, ankles and wrists of this lesser being, making the shackles he wore additional instruments of pain and suffering as they compounded the injuries she caused him. As the man cried out with it she turned to hide her satisfied smug expression behind the antique fan she still carried. A careful observer could detect her sadistic thrill from the shine of it in her eyes as they peered out from behind her obscuring mask.