tom riddle imagines

17: myrtle (c.c.)

imagine:
you've just witnessed myrtle's death and tom hunts you down.

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tw//gruesome+
change of plot cus idw get attacked by hp fans
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Hiding away from the bustling crowd floors below you, you sneaked into the second floor girls' lavatory, where you found peace and security inside the very last stall. The day was going south, and it was barely midday. You buried your face in your hands, sighing in hopelessness. As a wave of sadness crashed upon you, you were falling deeper and deeper into your depressive state.

Out of nowhere, a deafening shrill filled the vast bathroom, startling you out of your seat. Your heart pounded out of your chest as you quickly grabbed your wand from your leather bag laid next to your feet. As silently as you could, your feet slowly elevated from the ground so no one could know you were there. Panting anxiously, sweat dripped from the back of your neck, soaking your collar and robe as a wave of heat washed over you, your pale skin flustered at the sound of the cry.

It happened to be somewhere close to your stall, where the shrill came from. Followed by the resounding scream was a monstrous growly hiss, and chomping of something heavy being eaten. Your heart sped faster as you began to lose control of your emotions. Chewing on your bottom lip, you shut your eyes, desperately hoping it was a dream.

You're a Gryffindor, you can do better than this! your inner voice yelled at you furiously, ashamed by your cowardice. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you slowly got up from your seat and gently pressed your back against the door as quietly as you could. Your breath got heavier and louder as the fear in you grew more overwhelming, which was followed by the resounding ringing in your head. With every ounce of dignity you had left, your feet went swinging in the air and shoved the door vigorously. Slowly, you stumbled out of the stall, your wand pointing around you. The grasp on your hand tightened as you met eyes with a familiar Slytherin, alongside a humongous, grotesque snake that went slithering back into a large entrance between the sinks.

You gazed down, trembling at the sight of a thick puddle of blood by Tom's feet, trailing down to the first stall of the bathroom, where poor Myrtle laid pale and lifeless, missing an arm that appeared to be ripped off viciously, leaving a bloody flesh of an inch of her arm sticking out in a pool of blood. Her ghastly eyes, filled with fear and panic, was left opened as her body gradually turned cold and white. You gazed back at Tom, trembling in horror, as he shot you a smirk. His eyes glistened red as he watched you in distress speechlessly with your jaw wide open.

"No..." you muttered under your breath as realisation hit you. There truly was a dead body before you, and it wasn't just some Ravenclaw. You were once friends to the girl, though she was mercilessly rejected by society. "Tom, what have you done..."

"Something I should've done a long time ago," he replied, glancing at you with his wand behind him. "And you shouldn't be here."

"Killing poor muggle-borns? Is that what you do now, Riddle?" you snapped angrily, gaining a tad bit of courage to defend the dead girl. No reply came out of him, but a sinister grin on his face grew.

"Obliv-" he spat, pointing his wand at you, but before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off.

"Stupefy!" you screamed, flustered from rage as you sent him flying back, hitting himself against the glass windows of the bathroom. You stomped your way towards him, shooting him spells that could keep him from moving. His impatience grew along with his mercilessness, which only made him determined to kill you, despite your pure-blood status.

"Now," you panted, glaring at him with pure hatred and wrath, "what's your fucking deal with muggle-borns?"

"They don't deserve a place in such prestigious world, amongst the gifted and superior," he spat, his brows furrowed in anger. "They should be with their kind, the ignorant and benighted people."

"That's sick, Tom!" you gasped. Your jaw clenched at the sight of such pathetic wizard, laying helplessly before you, letting out an undefeated chuckle despite his position.

"Even half-bloods. Let them suffer for being such forsaken, despicable hybrid."

"Shut your hypocrite ass, Riddle. You are a half-blood," you snarled. You felt a tinge of victory swirling in you as you watched his sinister smirk turn sour. He shot you a cold, wrathful glare as you pointed the wand at him, your towering, dominant figure shadowing upon his trembling, weak body. Though a mere gasp escaped his lips as a reply, his enraging energy still stood strong, engulfing you as it weakened you. Little whimpers escaped from your lips as you gasped for air, feeling your lungs crush inside of you as you silently collapsed to the ground in agony, barely letting out a noise. Your wand rolled over to Tom's fingertips, using his telekinetic skills to pull the wand close to him as he gradually gained back his energy. Slowly, he picked himself of the ground and gazed down at you, a glorious smirk plastered on his face.

"Fuck you, Tom," you wheezed through the pain, clutching on your chest, each breath you took pricked your lungs like needles. Gazing away from him as you slowly lose conscious, you glanced at the broken, ceramic sinks before you, shattered sharp marble glasses and mirrors scattered by you. You shut your eyes, enduring the pain as Tom's rambling slowly became distant from you. His voice grew further and further from you by the second, and a mere echo of his voice was the only thing you could hear through the darkness you found yourself in.

"Perhaps she'd be useful," his echoey voice spoke, "Malfoy, bring the poor thing to my dorm."

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