Braving the Past

Chapter 38: The Great Escapist

Tom felt hot anger course through him. For weeks he'd been forced to remember every bad thing that had ever happened in his lifetime, all the happiness torn from him. He had been beaten and torn until every ounce of strength had dissolved. What little he had, he'd used to send Hermione his message. To feel her in his mind again had given him a newfound resolve. He would get out, and he would kill every last swine of a man who dared to touch him.

And then he would finally see her again.

Tom lay on the dirty floor unmoving. He was saving his strength for the Death Eaters who had betrayed him. Who had chosen that ghoul over him. The small window above let in a sliver of moonlight, everything else dark with nightfall. Though he had only sent his location to Hermione a couple hours ago, he felt as if time was slipping, and he would soon lose his opportunity to escape.

He had to get out while it was still dark, before those things came back. There would be no escaping otherwise.

The door at the top of the stairs slammed open once again. A broad-shouldered silhouette stood in front of the light, heavy feet stomping down the stairs. The door closed and Tom finally got a good view of him, the man's wand the only real source of light in the room. He had a large round head with a thick nose and red cheeks. He waggled his wand in front of Tom like he always did, toying with him before striking.

Tom had seen this man many times before. He'd nicknamed him 'Red' after his incredibly red face that always got a shade darker with his excitement. Tom was planning on testing his theory tonight if his face turned red with fear as well.

"Don't know how you even fooled anyone," Red said. "You're not one bit like the Dark Lord. He would never cower. Wouldn't even need his wand to win a fight, but you? You're a pathetic twig, lying in a pool of your own filth."

Tom sat up, leaning against the wall behind him, and glared at Red. "You'd never keep your so-called Lord in chains either, now would you?" he scratched out.

Red shrugged. "No matter. He doesn't even know you're here. Thinks we killed you weeks ago. But this is much more fun." He smiled, revealing two crooked front teeth.

Soon, Tom would be the one doing the killing. His blood boiled at the thought that he hadn't been able to fight back. They had brought in the ultimate guards to keep him down until now. Dementors. Two of them, usually.

A couple hours ago, however, something had happened to warrant their use elsewhere. That had been his window of opportunity. As soon as they'd left, feeling had rushed back into his body and mind, and he'd acted accordingly by sending his location to Hermione.

What the man in front of Tom didn't seem to realize was that the Dementors had yet to return to their assigned post. All his big talk of Tom being powerless to fight back was no longer in the cards.

Tom smirked. He stared at Red and immediately delved into his mind. His round face went slack. Tom searched his mind for his greatest fears, for every torment he could possibly think to attack him with.

Ironically, snakes was fairly high on his list.

Voldemort - useless.

Heights, bees, ghosts, water.

Yes, Tom could use this all quite nicely. First, he contorted Red's mind to have the feeling of vertigo. He stumbled, looking sick to his stomach.

"What're you doin' to me?" he garbled.

Next, a poisonous snake slithered around his feet. He danced around to avoid it, losing his balance from the vertigo and falling hard to the floor. Tom watched with interest as his face grew two shades darker. Then came the bees, swirling around him, landing, stinging, covering every inch of his body.