Hogwarts: a school of Witchcraft and Love (Tom Marvolo Riddle x F!reader)

Chapter 5-16

What followed was pain, pain, and more pain.

Seconds turned into frames in your head, frames of you dying, taking in every gory detail of your death. Your very soul was retaliating against the feeling of dying that no, wasn't happening, it wasn't that serious. Or was it?

Were you dying? Almost instantly you regretted even wondering that, rewarded with the feeling of rusty nails being pounded into you everywhere at once.

With your torturer seething, the cool facade that he'd worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. The look was that of someone who blamed you for pushing them further than what was intended. It had slipped out of Tom's control and that, he couldn't take.

Although, he did seem to enjoy the way you convulsed and broke down, as if this was the confirmation of something he had always known about you-that no matter how hard you tried, he would always have the upper hand. Be better than you. A sick sort of pleasure that only intense suffering could bring.

And suffer, you did.

If you could feel anything beyond the searing agony, maybe shame would creep in for driving Tom further toward his evil inclinations. Your limbs refused to respond to your commands to get up, to get your wand so you weren't left defenseless.

But you were stuck. All you could do with what little strength your body lent you, was only enough to claw at the earth. Making no difference other than creating a few more dragging marks appear in the ground.

"M-...Mm..." Spluttering spastically over blue lips, vision whitening out so you wrenched your eyes shut. All you wanted was to cry. And you did, a lot, in the privacy between the trees.

"M-M-M-Mmm." The mimicry of your splutters made his irritating, evil laugh as scary as it could be. He was truly living the moment like an honest, good bully. "Speak again and you'll receive more."

You kept thrashing, and should have known that he would make good on his threat. The Cruciatus Curse struck again, and this time your hearing went out briefly in both ears. Perhaps that was a good thing. Listening to the oddly wet noises you were making, as if crying through a throat full of water, wouldn't make you feel any less sick.

You were in so much pain you probably wouldn't be able to move for a week, though the notion of living didn't dawn on you during the process. Then again, you you had never threatened him so directly before.

The worst you had done to him when it came to telling was tattling to Mrs. Cole about a broken toy. And that only got you... Nothing. You weren't used to this sort of punishment, and it hurt like nothing ever hurt before.

Look at your surroundings. Even opening your eyes hurt so fucking badly, but nonetheless, you tried. In just a few seconds, they could barely adjust to when they reached the opening to the daylight, and then a nearby moving limb made you cringe.

He didn't appreciate that either. Even turned up his nose in a very unlikeable manner, but you shut up before you could get a noise out which wasn't gurgling. "You must not be weak. You cannot be a squirmy cockroach."

"Can't stop being stubborn?" He followed with a laugh. "Forget about your whore of a birth giver."

Hovering over you Riddle was, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, seeking, seeking. "N-m..oo.r.." No more what you tried to say, but all that escaped your lips was a meek little huff, something so feeble even a fairy could beat.

It was hard to inhale anything, considering expanding your lungs burned, but that pain didn't affect you as much as the event unraveling in front of you was doing.