Crimson || Tom Riddle

𝖘𝖎𝖝

Arabella had forgotten what it was like to be human. Sometimes, she'd imagined how it would feel to hold your breath, or feel your heart pounding in your chest or just walk around without having the ability to zoom in on every inch of your surroundings and hear noises from kilometres away.

But she had become so accustomed to this lifestyle, she could also never imagine living without it.

Arabella had enjoyed every second that her body was in contact with Tom's. She did not regret what happened on the coffin lid. Or against the wall. Or again, upstairs.

Tom Riddle was good. She was better, obviously. But credit where credit was due.

Still, other than that one time she shagged Raymond Rosier (yes, she had, and it had felt good), Arabella was long overdue for a bit of physical indulgence. Tom Riddle had given her that, and she'd taken it without apology. Plus, the sight of him lying bare-chested on the bed did something to her.

Shame she had to leave the room. If it were up to her, she'd have dragged his smug little body back and rung out every last drop of usefulness he had.

But alas. There was a mission to complete.

Operation Find Her Ring. Because somewhere in this manor was the only object that could let her walk the sunlight without burning her beautiful skin.

Arabella knew it was ripped from her finger somewhere between the time she was stabbed and the time she woke up that morning. Tom Riddle was acting very smug, as if he wasn't the one who had taken it. And, clearly, hidden it somewhere stupid. Men were like that. Hoarders of shiny things they didn't understand.

But, Tom knew nothing about vampires (she assumed), so she had no doubt that he didn't understand what it actually was.

Which made Arabella hesitate. She could ask him, demand it, threaten him for it — but asking meant revealing too much. And with Tom, that was dangerous. If he sensed that ring meant everything to her, he'd use it. Dangle it like a treat. Use it against her every chance he got.

So no. Better to search quietly. Steal it back before he even realised she needed it. And if he did... well, then Arabella would just have to distract him (and she had a few ideas in mind).

As she searched each level, Arabella's mind drifted back everything she had told him before they did... that.

"I killed his brother."

God, she'd actually said it. Out loud. After all this time. After all these years. Forty-five of them, to be exact. She had told Tom Riddle the truth.

And that truth? That ruined her. She had killed Aberdeen Dumbledore. Sunk her teeth into his neck and drank until his wicked little soul was shaking in Lilith's grip. It was supposed to be like all the others.

And it was.

Until she met his brother.

Arabella considered it one of her greatest mistakes not noticing Albus that night. Because if she had, then she would not have been fooled by his charms. Except, it wasn't his charms that fooled her. It was how fresh he was compared to every other boring man. He was interesting, and smart, and had qualities she had actually found attractive.

But, to him, it was all a game. A game she had lost.

It still stung, that betrayal. The shame of it. That he got to walk around like some untouchable saint and she was left scraping blood from the woods, feeding on deer and other filth just to keep her powers intact.

And she'd told Tom. Arabella hoped she did not regret that. Hoped that she was not wrong about his potential, that he could actually help her undo this wretched curse.

What she had offered him for his help made her want to burn herself alive. Arabella had never offered that to anyone. Not willingly. She could've turned dozens, hundreds of humans if she wanted to. A simple process, and a human could rise as a vampire.

But she didn't. There was a reason she was the only one left.

Vampires were meant to be rare. Sacred. Divine. She didn't create more because human-kind didn't deserve it. And because none of them would be anything close to what she was.

Because she hadn't been turned by some measly vampire. She was given her powers by the devil herself. Lilith. And the others she had once turned, they weren't like her. They could die. They didn't have her strength. Her abilities. One wooden stake and they would never see the light of day again.

And if Tom were turned?

Well. That was the thing, wasn't it?

Turning a human wasn't hard. You just had to make sure they had vampire blood in their system when they died. Then, when they rose, they had to feed on human blood within twenty-four hours. If they didn't, they died for good. But if they did... welcome to eternity, darling.

But turning Tom Riddle? That could be... dangerous. Vampires had no soul. That was the price of immortality. But Tom — Tom already had no soul. He'd split it, torn it, shattered it. Twice, she knew for sure.

She had no idea what would happen. Would he turn? Die? Or would he become something else entirely.

She didn't know.

But she was willing to risk Tom's life if that's what he wanted.

Arabella shook the thoughts off and moved.