Crimson || Tom Riddle

𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖊

They didn't speak as they moved through the halls. She hated every moment she claimed Tom's half soul. She felt like if she ran, she'd have to — god forbid — catch her breath. Mortality disgusted her.

When they stepped outside, the gardens were quiet and the summer air was warm. Arabella's gardens were red, poppies growing everywhere. She didn't stop walking until the pair reached the heart of the garden where a grand fountain stood.

"What now?" Tom asked. It irritated him how many questions he had to ask, how much of an outsider he felt, how lesser Arabella thought he was. Tom had never been lesser than anyone, he was always the smartest in the room, the most powerful. However, around Arabella it felt painfully obvious that he was just a mere mortal.

Arabella faced Tom, raising her wand. "Now I kill myself. Which means you die, too."

Tom spoke, suddenly. "If this doesn't work—"

She cut him off. "Just make sure not to anger her."

Arabella didn't give him time to change his mind.

"Avada Kedavra."

Green light exploded and her body fell with a thud on the concrete. She didn't hear Tom hit the ground right after her, with only a second delay.

As the two bodies lay dead, the sky began to turn a deep, heavy red, like someone was painting on a canvas. The poppies wilted into black ash. Arabella's eyes snapped open as she took in her surroundings. The garden was the same, but not. The trees looked older. The stone path cracked, like something had clawed its way through it. The air shimmered with heat, though no sun hung above them now.

Tom sat up next to her, blinking hard, disoriented. His lips were pale. His chest wasn't rising. No breath. No heartbeat.

They were both dead.

"Where are we?" he asked, voice low.

"Between Heaven and Hell."

The fountain had stopped flowing. What had been water was now blood, thick and dark. And from the bottom layer, something began to rise.

She came slowly, her skin pale as milk, her hair long and black. Her eyes were red and gleamed with amusement.

Arabella stood, brushing dirt from her dress. Tom copied her movements, suddenly feeling terrified. His eyes drunk in the sight of her. The devil.

But not the one he'd imagined. First of all, she was a she. Tom never would have thought the devil would be a female. But it was fitting, he thought. Second if all, she didn't have horns or clothes made of blood. No, she was worse. Lilith was beautiful.

The thing that unsettled him most of all was the way her crimson eyes settled on him — like he was... interesting.

Her hair was the blackest thing he'd ever seen, as though it had been dyed in the shadows. And when she stepped forward and over the fountain, onto the concrete, the blood rippled — as if even the water bent for her. Her movements were elegant and graceful.

Arabella was looking at Lilith with annoyance, like she was over the very sight of the woman. If the story from Halloween was true, then Lilith had basically forced Arabella to become a monster. No wonder she didn't like her. Lilith had doomed her entire existence. Though, Tom thought she should have been more grateful. Arabella had immense power and had done nothing useful with it. What a waste.

Lilith stepped forward slowly, her crimson gaze glittering with delight. Her lips curled into a grin as she took in the sight of them.

"Well, well," she drawled, voice rich like silk soaked in poison. "Dead again, Bella? So excited to see me once more?"