𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒓 ⇝ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

fire

She could only taste the metallic crimson blood  that was coursing through her body; her tongue was numb by the sheer amount of liquid. She felt as though she was blind, the saltiness of the water clouding her vision and muffling her hearing, but she saw the two ghostly figures hovering her frame.

She didn't have time to take even the tiniest of breaths as more water gushed onto her battered body, causing her to let out a long, agonized scream. She was being tortured, slowly and painfully.

"M-Mother!" She tried to yell out, but her voice was coming out in a raspy cough. She spat blood onto the wooden floor, her body trembling with pain.

She felt her body involuntarily take over her mind, and now all she could see were flames. The flames were everywhere, and she saw a body lying in the midst of them. The dim, dirty shed slowly began to turn into a damp, dark cave, and the fire slowly spread.

"Athena!"

Athena was back in the shed, with no more water or fire. There was only blood now. Her blood everywhere.

"We should have gotten rid of her when we had the chance." Athena heard her mother's gruff voice snap hard. "Look at her! A bloody lunatic."

"Assez, Eloise." Her father said, "elle est importante, The Dark Lord said it himself!"

"Important," she repeated with a laugh. "I hope you're right with this."

Athena watched, her heart thumping, as her mother grabbed another bucket on the floor again. The water was slowly dripping from the metal object, and Athena felt a deep sense of dread.

Her mother suddenly froze, and the bucket dropped to the floor with a large thump.

"Athena!" She hollered, her sharp brown eyes shifted into a deep, angry scowl as she spoke. "I will bloody chop that mouth of yours in a second, girl."

When Athena's eyes suddenly got a cold, hard look in them, her limb hand flicking towards her mother, causing the woman to fly backwards against the wooden wall with a surprised grunt.

"Enough!" Her father yelled.

His heavy footsteps echoed towards her, and the dagger he held sliced deep into her chest. "These are the consequences of your stupid wandless magic. You think you are so wise?" His words cut deep, and she could feel the blood trickle down her chest.

Athena tried to contain her wimpers, keeping the tears at bay that threatened to spill out as she looked up at the man. Though the crimson blood still poured forth, her body felt like it was floating, without any control, and she had no idea why. She felt like a puppet, but who was pulling the strings?

"Get out of my head!"

"Are you sick in the brain?" Athena managed to say; "I can't bloody control it."

"Argus, leave her be," her mother said, straightening her dress, and looking at her husband, alarmed. "She will only get angrier."

He didn't reply, but the woman didn't hesitate to take him by the hand and drag him out of the dark caban, shutting the door behind them. Athena layed there.

Her dark brown hair was soaked; she didn't know if it was from her blood or from the beach water. The weak, yellowish light coming from the window didn't help her as she fell back down to the ground, landing on her back with a thud. The heavy chains holding her legs were too tight, constricting her circulation and making it hard for her to move.

"Fuck," she whispered.

Athena tried using wandless magic to unchain her legs, but it seemed as if her parents had charmed them to be immovable.

She screamed, and the flames were all she could see, burning with a yellow light. The heat was stifling and the air was hazy with smoke. She could taste the ash in her mouth and smell the burning.

It was confusing because she wasn't quite sure what was real and what was not. Her unconscious body was against the wall, and everything felt strange and unfamiliar. She had no control over her body or her mind, and she was completely helpless.

"Open your eyes, Athena."

Her eyes didn't budge.

"Open your eyes!"

She slowly opened her eyes, but the blurriness in her vision was slight. She could barely see through the tears, but she knew it was the voice of her older brother.

Alastair Dalton watched her gently wince and let out a soft hiss of breath, before he kicked her right in the face with a loud, forceful strike. She was now lying unconscious on the dirty floor, with no idea of whether she was sleeping or dead.

The door slowly opened again, and a man entered. He was looking at the sleeping Athena rather than Alastair.

Alastair took a deep breath, glancing at the man before looking back at his sister. "This is her, My Lord."

Tom Riddle's eyebrows shot up as his tongue clicked against his teeth. "Athena Dalton." He said, "This is the girl with the...abilities."

Alastair nodded, "yes, My Lord."

"How old is she?" Tom asked, "she looks rather young."

"Fifteen," Alastair replied, watching as the crimson liquid slowly cooled his sister's nose. "She's fifteen."

"Ah, I see." Tom said, a small but foul smile curved up his lips. "When she's sixteen, i'd like for her to be prepared."

Alastair paused, looking back up at Tom, who was already staring at him. The air was thick with tension and Alastair felt exposed under Tom's gaze. "Does she have a choice, My Lord?"

"No," Tom said. "Unless she's willing to die, of course."

"She would, i'm afraid." He said calmly, noticing that Tom's smile didn't bulge.

"Very well, then." Tom said, grinning. "She is the type to sacrifice herself for the ones she loves."

Alastair nodded.

"May i ask; why is she so important, My Lord?" Alastair questioned.

"You tell me she has powerful Legilimency, strong talent in Defense against the Dark Arts and can do wandless magic at the age of fifteen. Is that correct?"

Alastair nodded.

"She will be my most powerful follower."