"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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[la_morte_bella]

A smirk crawled across Bellatrix's face as the small dungeon was filled with the sounds of screaming. It was particularly those noises caused by her nephew that caused a particular swell of pride, though she'd never admit it. They had so much to work on still. He was severely lacking in the qualities that made a Death Eater great. But, perhaps, he had promise still. Perhaps.

She waited patiently in the corner as each dark figure in the room took their turn at the shackled lump of a man, each one trying to make the screams they earned the loudest. It was truly a sight to see. Nostalgic. Only her and Lucius, however, were old enough to remember the old days. But this was so much like it. Bellatrix could still hear the voice of their Lord as sharp and clear as crystal in her ear. He was their conductor, choosing who would go next, who had made him the proudest, and in the end it was he who made the final (and usually fatal) blow.

But now, it was Bellatrix who took that role.

When the screams had died down she took her first steps forward. A knife had been pilfered from the nearby table Lucius had arranged so proudly, a sorry replacement for the wand she couldn't use. It would do for now.

She stood behind the slumped figure of the once proud auror. A pathetic sight-- the grown man weeping. His noises stopped abruptly as she neared. She was close enough that he'd be able to feel her presence. No word or chilling breath necessary. His spine went rigid as he could feel the pressure of the sharp blade against the fabric of his costume. The threads separated easily under the sharp point of the blade, all the way down, until the fabric hung limply from his torso.

"Don't cry," Bellatrix spoke softly, her bare fingers ghosting over the exposed skin. "It's unbecoming of a man." And with her words her fingers curled, cutting into the tender skin with the sharp of her fingernails. Despite her orders, he still screamed, and screamed again as her hand moved down his back, taking layers of skin with it.

"Disgusting excuse for a wizard. You disappoint your own kind." She said in a whisper. Though everybody in the room could hear her, she spoke only for the man in front of her, her lips inches from his ear. "I bet you forgot what it was like to be afraid. To truly fear. But you remember it now, don't you?" Warmth began to pour over her fingers, down the back of her hand. It was a sinful feeling, one that stirred her insides. It was a sweet harmony to hear each drop hit the floor.

With a gentle sigh she pulled her hand away from his wounds. Streaks of his own blood decorated the once beautiful costume as her fingers trailed along the fabric while she circled him. "It won't be the only present you receive from us. Oh no." She stilled just in front of him. Her hand rose to tilt his chin up, leaving red smudges on pale skin. "You'll have the pleasure of reminding others of what you're feeling now." With the quick movement of a muscle, her hand was gone, leaving his head to fall back down against his arm.

Bellatrix's attention turned to the shackles that held him. The tip of her knife was pressed in the first one, turning the rusty lock until it clicked, and the metal open. His arm fell to his side as though it had long been dead. "Muggle sympathy has started to become an overwhelming weed amongst us, don't you agree?" she asked, tracing the edge of the collar with her red fingers. "Not that it matters if you do or not. It will still be you who attacks them-- who will destroy their lives. It's a great honor, to be chosen for such a task."

At her comment, the auror shook his head. It caused a frown to crease Bellatrix's features. In a sudden swift movement, the tip of her blade was plunged into the man's shoulder. Not fully, but a couple inches deep, into the muscle, causing the man to scream. Just as quickly, the knife was pulled from him. "You bloody fool." She said, shaking her head. She moved again, and he flinched, just as he should. But she didn't move to hurt him. Rather, she unlocked the second shackle. He fell into a pile on the floor. The remains of a man.

[la_morte_bella]

"You will do it," Bellatrix said softly, crouching down beside him. "You will attack who and where we say, starting with that pathetic excuse of a shop this... Hannah owns. And you will wait for our word, ever day, praying to whomever you believe in that one of us doesn't come and kill you while you sleep." She stood, dropping the knife beside him, stained with his own blood and rust from his shackles. "We always get our way."

Bellatrix's eyes lifted to the man in the doorway. He'd remained silent during their parade. When, exactly, he'd arrived, or even if he was at the party was anyone's guess. But he was there, and with a nod from the Death Eater he stepped forward, a wand at the ready.

"Imperio!"