Dark Beauty /Sirius Black/ [2]

Dark Beauty - 40.

[this chapter is bit different from all chapters in the poems series and you'll realise why when it starts. This is just a note to say that this book's style isn't suddenly changing, it just caters best to this chapter]

Chapter 40

Adria's P.O.V

Cold sweat dripped down my forehead mixed with the lukewarm, thick blood dripping from the wound slashed across my forehead. Bleeding.

Four days.

I had been trapped in some sort of prison, a dungeon - a cage...for four days with Blair trapped to the left of me and Isaac to the right. The sick, twisted smile mixed with malicious intent and more than a dash of evil left my stomach sick but I couldn't do anything about it.

A spell had curled its way around my voice. I couldn't scream out - I couldn't speak and opening my mouth seemed like lifting a weight three times the weight of myself. It was a curse that all three of us had been subjected to.

I had to watch the tears stream down Blair's face when Isaac's mouth finally opened and nothing came out. I didn't want to look but a death eater gripped my arm so tightly I would have yelped if I could, another spell forcing my eyes to stay open as much as I begged my body to protest - I couldn't.

Isaac writhed in front of me on the floor, twisting in positions I didn't know anyone could get themselves into but I knew with the cruciatus curse aimed at him that the positions weren't something he was doing on his own accord.

He couldn't relieve the pain, he couldn't scream in agony and as sick as it sounded - I wondered if that was a good thing. The thought of hearing the agonising screams of my best friend near death...near insanity, the thought sent a shiver down my spine.

As did the thought of Sirius. Sirius.

A tear slid down my cheek every time his smile popped into my mind. The sight of him and my Jude was the only thing that could ease my mind when the pain of the slash wounds fit for a mud blood - the words of death eaters, not my own - entered my mind.

I had memorised their routine and the pattern of the days from the smallest crack of sunlight that penetrated the stone bricks of the dungeon we had been locked in. Dingy, small and rat infested and disgusting. The putrid smell of dirt mixed with burned flesh from our own torture sent sickness to my stomach, and in some horrid turn of events...none of us could bear the weight to open our mouths to vomit.

I didn't know if that was better or worse.

Food wasn't something we had a luxury of in our half week of imprisonment. None of us had our wands and the death eaters knew that, so weakening us down for an unfair fight wasn't something entirely necessary - we needed our wands to do some real damage and that wasn't so hard to figure out.

None of us knew why we were still alive.

The thought entered my mind more times than I wished to think of it and every time I was left with a mountain of confusion as to why I was still breathing. Perfect families with happy faces and infant children weren't spared, they weren't given a choice to live or die and granted we weren't either...but our hearts still thumped in our chest.

Torture was something I could live with...if it guaranteed another day with the love of my life.

Sirius was no doubt panicking. The thought of storming out on an argument was the stupidest decision I could possibly make and one I would never forgive myself for. Sick with worry, I imagine, and nothing short of hysterical...I needed him to be okay.

The lack of protection of my friends seemed like my fault. It was my fault.

They left with me for my sake after my stupid decision to walk out on my husband. Our fight could have easily been solved, we could have gotten through it with talking - with communication and yet I left...I stormed out with pettiness in my head and fury taking over me for something he said out of anger.