The Serpent & Hawke | Mattheo Riddle | Enemies to lovers

Part 54 - A vessel

34 Days Since Dumbledore's Death

Lyanna's POV

My vision was blurred with a mixture of burning tears and blood as I stared into the bright overhead lantern, gently swinging above like a twisted pendulum.

Each swing sent fractals of light dancing across my vision, making the pain worse.

The metal fixture creaked rhythmically, a metronome counting out my torture.

I felt detached from my body, floating somewhere above it, but I knew it was on fire.

My blood bubbled and popped beneath my skin like molten lava, each heartbeat sending fresh waves of agony through my veins.

It felt like being burned alive from the inside out.

Every nerve ending shattered, shooting violent bolts of lightning up and down my spine.

The pain was so intense it had colours — white-hot streaks that exploded behind my eyes, electric blue tendrils that wrapped around my bones like burning wire.

This was the worst yet.

Each session had been more brutal than the last, as if they believed pain alone could unlock what they wanted.

Blood crystallised from my eyes, nose, and mouth as I lay completely still on the cold metal table.

The metallic taste filled my mouth, thick and choking.

I could feel it cooling on my skin, turning tacky, marking paths down my face like tears.

Three Death Eaters loomed over me, their masks gleaming in the lantern light.

The silver surfaces were expressionless, but I could sense their suspicion, their growing frustration.

I knew they were getting nowhere.

My magic remained stubbornly locked away, refusing to yield to their crude attempts at extraction.

Each failure only made them more desperate, more violent.

Voldemort was growing impatient with the lack of success in extracting my abilities.

His disappointment meant death for those who failed him — I'd learned that lesson quickly in this house of horrors.

Suddenly, a wave of blind agony shot straight to my brain, like someone had driven a hot spike through my skull.

Pressure built quickly, a tsunami of pain that I couldn't contain.

I had no control of my body.

I shook violently in the man's arms, my muscles spasming as I felt more blood rise from my throat and spill out.

The convulsions were so strong I could hear my teeth chattering, could feel my spine trying to bend in impossible ways.

The Death Eaters seemed to panic, their usual composure shattering like glass.

Cursing at each other through their masks, they fumbled around like puppets, seeking some sort of solution.

Their fear was palpable — if anything happened to me...

Just as darkness began creeping in at the edges of my vision like spilled ink, I thought I saw a familiar face, and even more familiar white-blonde hair, glowing almost silver in the harsh light.

The last thing I heard was a voice, distant and strange, as if coming through water.

"What the fuck have you done to her?!"