Voltaic Falling

37

Pain. Agonizing pain. Bone rippling agony. Soul shredding fear. That is what she felt every time the cell opened to reveal Bellatrix or Pettigrew. It has been two weeks since she was taken from her wedding. The once white gown she sported was brown, filled with dirt and smeared with blood- her own blood. 

She couldn't even open her eyes to see the light as she was taken from the cell to the study, where Voldemort resided. She couldn't even distinguish what was real or fake anymore. She had dreamed countless times about Bill coming to her rescue, or that Remus reigned down on the Manor to rescue the only thing he had close to a daughter. All along, it had been dreams. 

The reality was so much worse. 

"Crucio!", Voldemort spat once again, waiting for the woman to spew information about the order and its plan, or the whereabouts of Harry Potter. 

She trembled on the floor, spitting blood. Her body was mangled, covered in bruises and cuts, courtesy of Bellatrix. Her face flew to the other side as Voldemort slapped her once more. She took the built-up of saliva and blood and spat on Voldemort's pale nose-less face. 

At the corner of her eye, Lucius would tense and Narcissa would give her a pitiful glance. Narcissa would often go and tend to her wounds, and have the house elves bring her some food. She couldn't bear Regulus's daughter being treated like that, staring at the girl, she swore she was staring at Regulus's mirror. They were so painfully similar. 

Snape opened the door to the study, taking a horrified glance at the floor. He had led the Dark Lord to the manacles unknowingly. He did not know that the use of them required a tortured girl lying in a puddle of blood. A girl he considered fair, strong, and brave, broken to the very bone of her existence. He tared his eyes away from a heaving Beatrice and spoke, 

"My lord, Potter was sighted at the ministry. His Weasley friend splinched. The order is still looking for her. Shacklebolt managed to find out that the Malfoy Manor was the base of operation, but I do not think that they might come. They don't have the numbers. My lord, let me take the girl somewhere safe where she can't be reached". 

"Now, Severus, Bellatrix is just starting her fun. I suppose it can be arranged once I feel the order is coming upon us. For now, she stays. I need the information. If she is to be my downfall, why not have her under my watch?", the slitted-eyed man said. 

Without further due, Snape eyed her once more, sending her a silent message. 

Hang on. 

She heard it clearly in her mind. She followed his footsteps out, only to find Cedric's wand on his robes. The familiar flower crusted ash wand gleamed into her view. She gasped and trembled, wanting to reach out to her former potion's professor. 

Why would Snape, out of everyone, had Cedric's wand? A wand is to be buried with its master. She thrashed in the spot as Bellatrix had tortured her with dark spells that she did not even know. 

She was alive. She needed to fight. She would not be afraid. She would not yield to any death eater. She would survive. 

The man nodded to Narcissa, as they exchanged words. He took her wrist, and under his robes, Cedric's wand poked at her gloved wand. With a stilled surprise, she took the wand and stashed it on her dress. She watched in silence, not giving away any reactions. 

Her silence only gave more ground so that Bellatrix pulled the woman from her hair, pushing her to the floor once again. She winced as her bruised rib made contact with the floor. Beatrice stayed silent as Bellatrix continued to pounce on her. One kick to her chest, another to the head, a step which probably broke her ankle. She had to embrace the pain. If she weakend at the sight of it, they would torture her more.