Surviving Fate // Mattheo Riddle ♣️

Chapter Twenty-Two - Burning

Word Count: 2,890 words. 

Warnings: None. 

"I have been informed Miss Black," Voldemort began, moving around me as I sat on the floor. "That you have been a bit of trouble."

"And who told you that, my Lord?" I asked, still feeling breathless. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the pain.

"I did," I heard Bellatrix speak up and I turned my head, finding her stood nearby, a smile on her face. "You tried to kill me."

"You tried to kill me too," I told her.

"You were protecting the boy," she argued.

I pushed myself up, standing. Credence.

"Right here," he told me. "I'll try and give you the strength you need."

As he spoke, I felt the pain in my mind recede and I took a breath, turning to face Bellatrix.

"You were trying to kill him," I told her before turning to Voldemort.

She faltered. "I –"

"Is this true Bellatrix?" Voldemort asked her, cloak moving as he turned away, moving back to the head of the table.

"My lord," she tried. "I was simply defending myself. The boy attacked."

"Bullshit," I called.

"Crucio!" she cast, wand pointed at me, and I fell to the floor again, writhing in pain.

I screamed as the curse worked its way into my skin, not a single part of me free from the pain she was casting.

I struggled into my stomach, attempting to push myself up, but only finding that I fell back down from the pain.

"Credence," I breathed, searching my mind for him. He didn't answer me, and I felt tears prick at my eyes.

"Credence please," I begged. He didn't come, but the pain did stop.

"Enough!" the Dark Lord shouted, and the pain ceased.

I was panting on the ground, the grip of her spell gone, but the remnants of the pain was left on my skin.

"Leave us Bellatrix," the man in front of me ordered.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied before scurrying out of the room.

My eyes on the ground, I was still breathing heavy, an image of the door in my mind. The fire burned against it, reaching for the hinges and trying its best to melt them.

"You are quite weak Ms. Black," he told me and turning my eyes upwards, I watched his feet move their way towards me.

"I have just used a lot of my power, my Lord," I tried, attempting to get my breath back. "Given time I will be able to handle it for longer."

It was a lie. A stupid lie. The more I used the Obscurus, the power it gave me, the weaker I would get, not the stronger. It was a stupid excuse, but it was all that my mind could come up with.

"We don't have time," he told me sternly, taking hold of my face and pulling my gaze up to look at him. "Gain your strength all you would like, but here, in my war, you need to know how to handle pain."

"What?" I asked. "What do you mean, my Lord?"

Voldemort smiled. "I think," he paused. "That its time you knew what true pain felt like. What do you think?"