May Death Do Us Part | RB ✔︎

SIXTEEN ☆ BLACK

TW: torture

Fear squeezes at my throat, straining it in a way so painful I almost forget about how I shattered Mona's heart beside the pond. I almost forget about the defeated look in her eyes when I left her near the water. I almost forget about the nauseous feeling I got after I'd fucked her.

The back of my knees are kicked and I drop with a thud, pain radiating through my legs. I grunt in discomfort, Bella's fingers still ripping into my hair and tugging upward. I hiss at the sting, my eyes squeezed shut but an eerie scraping catches my ears instead.

I force my eyes open, looking at the sight in front of me. Nagini, Voldemort's snake slithers around the floor in front of me, her gaze unwavering.

"She hasn't been fed today." A voice says, gaining my attention.

Behind the snake is an unoccupied chair, Tom and Mattheo kneeling on either side, one arm resting on their knees. Both of them are dressed in completely black suits, faces void of emotion.

It was Tom who had spoken.

I debate responding, but something is gnawing at my mind.

Mona.

Where is she?

"Our father is debating on feeding you to her." Mattheo says, voice empty and cold. "Let's hope your little girlfriend can talk him out of it. For your sake."

At his words, a loud scream echoes through the building. Mattheo tenses, his eyes flicking to Tom who just locks his jaw and tilts his chin up higher. Bellatrix cackles from behind me.

"Let's hope he guts her like a fish." She counters Mattheo's words.

I struggle against her grasp but she points her wand to my throat, pushing just enough to cause discomfort.

"Keep testing, little cousin." She challenges, nudging my leg with her boot.

I'm not sure how long the screaming lasts, but the snake is completely coiled now, ready to strike when given the say so. Tom is stone-like, his emotionless nature not faltering once. His eyes are cold and calculating, watching me with a gaze that has irremovable goosebumps crawling up my skin. Mattheo flinches with every shrill scream and it takes him nanoseconds to regain his composure. He can't let my cousin or his brother see that his facade is cracking. Bellatrix makes comments every time the yelling starts up again, most of them relating to the sound being music to her ears.

At some point, in the short-lasting silence, bare feet slap against the pavement. Voldemort moves into the room, his wand pointed at a very exhausted Mona. He moves up the steps to the throne-like chair and his sons drop their heads as he sits.

He moves the tip of the wand away from Mona and she slumps backward onto the concrete, landing with a thud. Her breathing is shallow but fast, clear after affects of the cruciatus curse.

"Mona--" I start, Voldemort's wand pointing at me.

"Silence, Black." He says venomously, tilting his head upwards. His red eyes peer into my soul and before I know it, piercing pain seers through my head.

He sifts through my memories, digging around my mind. He plays close attention to the notebook full of notes on what Mona and I have managed to scrape together about him and his horcruxes. He disregards the memories from Dragonheim, likely assuming they're pointless.

And then he retracts his presence from my head.

"You and my Temptress have gotten rather... close." He says in amusement, his forked tongue flicking out over then 's' sounds. "Tell me, Black. Is she as good as you hoped she was? How did she taste? Was she sweet like strawberries or sour like lemons?"