𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒- 𝘮𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴

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"MASTER DARK LORD asks for Master Riddle to come to meeting room," said a house elf, looking at Alex expectantly.

Alex let out a groan and stood up, checking the mirror to see how he looked.

He ran a hand through his messy hair and rolled his eyes, not bothering to fix it.

His attention was caught by an owl flying into his room, which he ignored after recognizing whose it was: Daphne's.

He walked out of his room, heading to the direction of the meeting room.

«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»

"Ah, and here's my heir," said Voldemort as soon as Alex walked in.

The boy looked at the death eaters sitting down around the long table, refusing to let his eyes stop on Draco, who was also there.

"Alex, kill her." Voldemort pointed to a woman on the ground, who was tied up and looked horrified.

Alex frowned. "What?"

A death eater stood in front of Alex, a knife in his hand— offering it to the boy.

He froze, staring at the sharp object.

"Don't embarrass both of us in front of everyone," hissed Voldemort in Parseltongue. "Kill her with the knife."

"You're mocking me," realized Alex, talking in the same language.

"Kill her, Alex. With the knife."

"Not with the knife," objected the young boy, breathing heavily. "Anything but the knife."

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Alex clenched his jaw, taking the knife. He flinched as soon as it was in his hand.

Looking at the woman, he crouched down and whispered, "I'm so sorry."

It was a good thing nobody heard him except the woman.

With his back turned to the death eaters, Alex plunged the knife into her chest, flinching when she screamed.

A few seconds later, she was dead.

With blood all over his clothes and face and hands, Alex stood back up, ignoring everyone and walked out of the room, slamming the door shut.

«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»

As soon as he was alone in a hallway far away from the meeting room, Alex stared at his bloody hands and felt his eyes tearing up.

He tried scratching the blood off with his nails but it wasn't working.

He let out a shaking breath, dropping to his knees.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, starting to sob. "I'm— so so— so sorry."

He stood up then sat down on the ground, knees to his chest. Smelling the blood that was fully on him, he let out a shaking breath, tears still falling from his eyes.

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