blood must shed for time to reset

chapter 4

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( You stole me. You stole all of me and left me to crawl soulless. I can purge your pulse and purloin your skin but i can't turn back the time. I will forever be stained in your sin. Death by inequitable justice. )

—BEFORE CIRCE COULD UNLEASH
vengeance, she needed to heal the wounds scattered across her body, and thus with a bottle of muggle whiskey she'd stolen from one of her roommates drawer, she made way to the prefects bathroom. Hogwarts wasn't as special as society would like to make it out to be; the enchantments and spells were weak, easily breakable, and the passwords were simple to manoeuvre around. So the girl suffered little struggle as she broke into the area ( using a flimsy chant she'd been taught at Praesidium ).

The inside of the room deemed to be captivating, with endless walls of aureate marble and water structures that descended into a large tub of clear blue. As she propped the whiskey onto the cold, stoned floor, the room worked around her, beginning to produce bubbles of resplendent cerulean. Inside her pockets she'd swiped medical supplies from minuscule health kits and her shared bathroom cupboard, and whilst they weren't perfect, they would have to do. Circe was just glad she hadn't been jostled into a room of pure-blooded supremacists, otherwise she would've been left to bleed and scar roughly.

The spells Avery had used to spoil her skin were adamantine to magic, and so she was back to the basics. Undressing herself down to underwear, she couldn't bite back the past and how hours ago, she'd been used like a meritless doll. Whatever, she thought, whatever whatever whatever.  Then, casting a simple spell that muted the room, she got ready to feel desperate anguish.

Sitting on her thigh was a deep laceration that ploughed through her flesh, and whilst it'd been somewhat contained by her tight bottoms before, it was now crying fresh, metallic red down her contused legs. It hurt, throbbing and twinging, but she knew in a moment the pain would be so unbearable. If there was a spell out there to numb affliction, she would've chanted it hours ago, albeit Praesidium hadn't revealed it in her years there — which she knew was a spiteful act, because they enjoyed watching their puppets recoil and shake, it reminded them that they were human, and always replaceable.

So, taking a large, burning swig of whiskey she prepared her limb for torment. Sterilising a wound with alcohol wasn't completely safe, albeit it would be worse to let it sit there dirty and form an infection. Circe was out of choices.... this was the only way forward.

Therefore, in one stride, she poured half of its contents onto the lesion, and thus the world around her went hazy. She emitted a desperate sob of agony as the pain hit every nerve in her tired body, shooting into the bone, consuming her organs. The feeling pulsed and oscillated, as if it was alive and desperate to touch every corner of Circe, ricocheting against her internal walls as she quivered and gasped and whimpered.

During these few, extending minutes of grief, the girl managed to clutch onto the bottle, not ready to let go of it — being the only thing giving her stability. And thus, she sat there, rolling in pain, trying to look at the welcoming bath and the enthralling scenery. All ploys to distract herself from the reactive consequences of alcohol on an open wound.

In the worst seconds, she imagined Avery and how she would kill him. Her hand burrowing into his chest, wrenching his beating heart from his soul. No, she thought, thats too nice. What he deserved was hours and hours of physical and mental sanguinary, where he choked and spluttered on his own vomit as he felt every spot of his body rot and burn and sizzle like steak on a barbecue. He deserved that, and then he deserved a lifetime of hell.

As the clock passed, the affliction died out, and within time, it was a mere ache. Therefore, Circe wrapped the puncture in a tight and compressed bandage. That is the worst you will ever suffer, she lied to herself, sweet sweet words of falsity, but they worked and that was enough for now.