Crimson || Tom Riddle [1]

𝖘𝖎𝖝𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓

Tom Riddle was 9 when he learned he could speak to snakes.

He had been sitting cross-legged underneath the shade of a large oak tree, his small frame hunched over a worn book he had found tucked away in the orphanage's neglected library. The other kids were kicking around a ball and had made it obviously clear that Tom was not invited. Not that Tom wanted to play with them anyway.

He heard the snake before he saw it, slithering out from behind a bush. He hadn't been scared. Actually, he was rather intrigued by the creature. As the snake approached, its tongue flicking inquisitively, Tom felt a strange connection, an unspoken understanding.

"Hello there," Tom had murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. To his amazement, the snake had responded in greeting.

However, their peaceful exchange had soon been shattered by the arrival of a group of older boys from the orphanage. With sneers of disdain, they had approached Tom.

"What's this, Riddle? Making friends with snakes now, are you?" one of them jeered, his voice dripping with contempt. The others joined in with cruel taunts, their words stinging like barbs as they mocked Tom.

Tom looked over to his companion and spoke to it again in the strange language. "Get him."

Without hesitation, the snake had reacted, its fangs sinking into the boy's ankle with swift precision. Chaos erupted as the child screamed in pain, the others recoiling in shock and horror. Tom had watched in silent satisfaction as the snake slithered away. In that moment, he felt a surge of power unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

Tom recalled that memory as he now stood staring at the statue of Salazar Slytherin before him. It was the first time he had ever felt a sense of superiority, a feeling of being different, perhaps even better, than those around him.

In that moment, Tom had realised that he possessed a power that others did not. It wasn't just the ability to speak to snakes, but a deeper understanding of his own potential for greatness. For the first time in his young life, he had felt a sense of control, of dominance over those who had sought to ridicule him.

As he stood in the Chamber of Secrets, Tom knew that he was destined for greatness. And as he gazed upon the statue of his ancestor, Tom Riddle felt a sense of pride swell within him, a sense of accomplishment for beginning his rise to greatness, for finishing Salazar Slytherin's noble work.

Today was the first step into his immortal future.

Tom Riddle was about to create his first horcrux.

•••

"Secrets of the Darkest Arts," by Owle Bullock was a large book, bound in faded black leather, purple swirls bordering the cover and around the title written in white. This was the book Tom had found in the restricted section of the library. This was the book that told him how to achieve immortality.