𝙸𝚗 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜|| Tom Riddle

The Chalky White Keys

The sound of the piano keys echoed throughout the manor, creating a menacing melody. The ones who listened were enchanted by it's ghostlike tickle.

Listening carefully you could tell what the sorrowful Story the Melody was playing, soon enough another instrument began playing, a violin, it's tune crying out in agony, yet it was beautiful to listen to.

Walking down the corridors that where lined with portraits, faces forever to be found with stern expressions and some forgotten memories that were mistakenly taken for granted.

Approaching one of the many crossroads that split the manor up in several directions, The melody echoed once more, fingers dancing along the keys as if welcoming the Souls that have been wondering the earths land for eternity, it was hypnotic something you consider otherworldly it constricted your lungs, your movements even your own thoughts, it plagued your mind like a deadly disease.

Walking down the corridor that was barely lit by any candle light, this part of the manor was much more intense more dark it was like a demonic force that surrounded you and griped you like a vice.

The person who was playing the archaic melody had a control over the keys, they knew their music was like dark magic, you could feel it in the air it came in waves one after another. It was like they were playing a mystical Concert whose music sheets where only allowed to pull in the deathly souls.

That's probably why The boy Named Tom Marvolo Riddle was attracted to it. He already bargained his soul to the devil himself, and danced a prepossessing waltz with The Reaper, their Scythe just grazing Him.

Continuing down the darkened corridor, He noticed the glamorous wallpaper was entirely different, the once beautiful white walls where replaced by disintegrating cream wallpaper with small flowers decorating it, the paper was peeling off the walls, it's damp smell lingering. The floor boards where tarnished and stained with what seemed to be dried blood.

Coming to a halt in-front of a spruce door, you could see the engraved gashes that ran along the door, and the Crimson handprint that sat next to it.

The Demonic Melody was overwhelming, it stuck him to the bone leavening him with a unbearable coldness, feeling fingers brush against his neck he snapped his head to see who stood behind, but was only greeted by the void of darkness.

He hadn't felt like this since the orphanage, the fear that creeped up his body like a python ready to attack, not knowing if he could bare listening to the children's scream, their eyes clouding over with madness, hearing the racing heart beats and the tickle of the dry throats where they have been tortured till dawn, whatever was lurking behind that door had the same effect.

Grabbing the brass handle of the spruce door, turning it with hesitation, swinging the door open slowly he heard to what would be a grandfather clock chime. It's sound echoing of the damp floral walls.

Gazing around the room, he noticed it was empty the only thing really taking up room was the grand piano and the small tawny Violin, looking closer he spotted several handprints on the wall, all dripping with the crimson liquid that decorated the door.

Spotting a small brunette figure sitting down at the piano, their hair was matted with twigs and wet leaves tangled within, their porcelain fingers danced against each of the chalky keys, their fingers where dirty and taking a closer inspection, the nails where covered in blood, old blood it wasn't like the paint that covered the walls, this was a dark maroon. Their dress was a periwinkle nightgown, with a small bow attached at the back, But Muddy splotches garnished the fabric, tarnishing the once bright colour.

Noticing that the little girl was bare foot but oddly enough not only did her fingernails have blood but also her soles of her feet where covered.

Picking at the skin around his own perfectly cut nails, he grew uncomfortable with the presence...he could sense the familiarity, but he just wished that it wasn't her.

Taking a step back, the wooden door shut with a Bang, making some splinters fly out, scraping him on their way past.

"Take a seat...Thomas"

After the words left her mouth a stool came rushing forward, only stopping inches away from him, the leather on the seat was cracked and decayed, he could see the wood worms had eaten the base of it. Swallowing down the uneasiness he took a seat just like she said, and watched her play the menacing tune.

He saw what looked like beetles crawl over the milky white keys, leaving behind a trail of ruby red blood, but yet her slender fingers seemed to have missed them dancing over them as if they weren't there.

Her fingers replayed the same key over and over again until it became silent, she didn't move...she just sat there staring at the wall as if it was some fascinating piece of art, he could hear the sound of flys buzzing around but couldn't see them, that was until she opened her mouth.

"It's almost Time..."

Tom felt something crawl against his skin, looking down he saw it was one of the beetles that where on the piano, smacking it away he noticed it bit him, drawing his own scarlet Blood.

Hearing the thunder clap outside he jumped in his own seat, listening to the rain belt down, there was no windows in the room, it was just covered in four floral walls, soon another sound echoed throughout the room, The Grandfather clock it's song braking out in minutes.

He took note that the little girl had ceased Playing the haunting melody, instead looking back he saw that she was now looking at him, taking a deep breath in he was shocked when he saw she had no eyes...instead it was just skin to replace it with sunken slots where beautiful Coffee orbs should be resting, her face was covered in dirt and grime, her mouth had a crooked smirk to it, while a fly rested just on top of her lip.

Her neck held scratches, old blood seeping through where a hole was carved out in her neck, she seemed to be taken oxygen from it, small termites oozed out of the open wound and fell onto her lap, her mouth falling open in a giggle as she watched one of them squirm.

"Rose...?"

Snapping her head up, her lips dripping down in a snarl.

"It's almost here, it's almost here, it's almost here!"

Recited over and over again, giggling as she did so. Soon enough with another chime of the grandfather clock she was gone in a cloud of smoke, nothing left to say she was there, only the piano remained and the tawny violin.

A fly landed on one of the chalky white keys, buzzing around, the aroma of old flesh filled the room, making the boy nauseated. He scrambled towards the spruce door, tugging at it begging it to open, his attempts where futile, he crouched down on his knees covering his nose in his fleeced Green jumper, willing away the smell.

His lungs felt constricted, he was gasping for air but he didn't want to inhale that putrid smell, banging on the door hoping anyone would hear him.

"Silly Thomas...so weak, So gullible"

Echoed the voice of the little girl.

Soon enough his vision became blurry, the last thing he saw was the door opening and sliver and brown hair rushing in.

He felt weak, he didn't feel the power rush that Normally ran through his veins, he didn't like it one bit...this only encouraged him to sped up his process of finding power.