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"Fall for me, if you dare."
"What's in it for me?"
"Absolutely nothing."
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Tom Riddle knew how to keep his t...
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The rumors about some girl nearly killing the majorly talented and heavily skilled Edward Lestrange without uttering a word or a wand in hand spread around the school like wildfire. After only two hours, Lora couldn't pass a hallway without being stopped by someone to either thank and congratulate her or send her a threatening scowl.
Lora handled the sudden attention to her character amazingly well, she wasn't shunned away or frightened by it, she didn't keep her head down and she most certainly didn't try to avoid crowded places. To be honest, she actually quite liked the unexpected fame and the reputation it brought her. People were intimidated by her, and even though most tried hiding their fright, she could still see it in their eyes. She liked it better this way, this way nobody would dare try hurting her, this way she had dominance, she had power.
Her nature was calling out for the girl, she could hear it murmuring in the back of her head as it begged for Lora to face the fact that she liked it. She liked the feeling of control and authority that she experienced while looking down at the dying Lestrange, convulsing in anguish in front of her. She liked that feeling of unimaginable power unfolding deep inside her soul as he choked, as she made him choke. She liked the silent pleads for mercy that the boy had written all over his face when he looked up at her.
The ungodly thoughts flashing through her head weren't new to Lora. She has had them for as long as she could remember. It wasn't the torture that made them spread throughout the girl's damaged brain, no, it was the absorbing, almost overwhelming sense of supremacy that it caused to grow in her heart. If that feeling could be awakened by anything else, if people started fearing the girl before she had to hurt them, she would gladly give up her sinful practices, settling for something much less harmful to others. But as long as people only surrender to her because they are afraid of what might happen to them if they didn't, Lora had no choice in the matter. That superiority was like a drug for the young girl, she always felt her mind and spirit long for it, like an itch in the back of her head that she couldn't scratch, never getting enough, always needing another fix.
Lora never tried to fight the whispers, never tried to push them away. She saw no bad everlasting consequences that her actions might have caused. She never killed anyone or anything, and in her opinion, pain was the only thing that made people grow. Pain wasn't a bad thing, not the physical kind. Lestrange was an impolite jerk towards people, but now, after experiencing some temporary pain, he would think twice before insulting someone. Lora was sure she made the world a favor by putting Edward back in his place, by reminding him that he wasn't invincible.
The thing that concerned Lora was the fact that she knew she wouldn't have stopped if not for the boy's words. She knew that if Edward hadn't called out for somebody to help him, she would have finished what she started. She would have killed the boy. And that worried her a lot. Was she really capable of something like that? Was she capable of taking a life from a fairly innocent child? Those were the thoughts that troubled Lora.
