Seven young boys, trained to be assassins, cold blooded contract killers. They owe their lives, their very existence to the Master and Mistress who had saved them from the streets and certain death. Do not trust anyone, do not love, do not have friends, do not give anyone anything to hold against you. Those were the Rules. Kill swiftly, efficiently, leave no evidence unless instructed otherwise. But what happens when one of them finds out all is not what it seems? That he had been lied to all his life?

❝Pizzaface ❞ That's what they called him.

How does Harry react when he finds out the truth behind all of Dumbledore's secrets from Voldemort? Simple... he plots to kill them both. Originally Posted on fanfiction.com by Nyx Myst

The white and grey smoke curled itself into the air as he lit the paper beneath it. He had been clean, but now it just became a necessity. Addiction and obsession to embodiments of nature were his companion. The paper quivered in his hands as he took a deep breath. The mist entering his system and lungs, spreading through his mind, body and soul. The pain was there but it had dulled. The pain of losing her wasn't as much as he had thought it would be when he let the vapour spread through his body. The pain of not having this held more excruciation than her. His body would repel the contents but he knew he needed more. His desires knew no bounds. Or were they his desires at all? But neither could he control it, nor could he take pleasure in it. It was his curse. And that if she was the boon to take it away was something he never knew he wanted. It was her.

"If they aren't pretty when they are dead, then why bother keeping the bodies in my cemetery? Just burn them. Burn all of them, and give me the charming ones." I laughed at how psychotic he sounded; or even how psychotic he was."You're young, why do you even own your own cemetery? That can't even be legal." "Why bother concerning yourself over my affairs? This cemetery-" he quickly corrected himself, "My cemetery is the most luxurious and ravishing of them all." He bent down, and began to whisper in my ear, "And I know, that you, my lamb, understand my funeral style, don't you?"

Inanis Messor is The Bone Cutter. He's America's most fierce and cursed celebrity. He's America's modern prophet. He's America's very own murderous darling. Inanis's job is to broadcast a live death on public television once a month, as a sacrifice to the public. Every month on the 15th, Inanis steps on a large, vibrant stage, in front of dozens of cameras, and executes a living political individual as repentance for the sins of America's government. It keeps the public satisfied. It keeps the government from having to own up to their mistakes. Mirea Dhalmi is the daughter of a famous state governor; a man who involves himself in every political discussion the media has to offer. But when he's chosen to be Inanis's next victim, Mirea desperately pleads with The Bone Cutter to spare his life. Inanis agrees, but at a price. Mirea must now become his bride, his public display. She becomes The Bone Harvester, the woman who stands beside The Bone Cutter on the bloody stage that is broadcasted throughout public television. The unfortunate woman who stands beside the celebrity who kills in front of the nation.