Not sure why I decided exactly to posting this, but I am. I am posting this, because well, anything else I have written in the fanfiction department is pretty pithy-ish. Rated for blood.
fandom: Harry Potter
Paper Dolls
Chapter One: Helle Nacht
Cause this is thriller
Thriller night
And no one's gonna save you
From the beast about to strike
You know it's thriller
Thriller night
You're fighting for your life
Inside a killer
Thriller tonight, yeah
- Thriller, Michael Jackson
Blood. That's all that he could see. Blood. Crimson pools glistening darkly. He tasted it, breathed it, lived it; for they had broken his nose and shattered his ribs. He was drowning in it. Clean air was just a filtered memory, sanguine and bitters tainted every agonizing breath. He could even feel the tremble of blood down his back from where they hooked things into his skin. Absently he wondered how much blood one could loose before passing out, before death.
Another stab of pain rippled through him as the sharp toe of a boot sideswiped him. A grating, cruel voice spat out four seemingly separate words, “Werewolf. You still alive.”
He tried to call out in pain or even whimper but all that escaped his mouth was a rush of red. He choked on the ruddy carmine liquid, and it splattered all over the roughshod stone beneath him.
"Good." The harsh voice seemed satisfied, and distant, as darkness and oblivion finally kidnapped him.
(beat)
Belle watched through slitted eyes as they brought him in, bloody and broken. He was unconscious but alive. Belle sat with concealed indifference at her Master's feet. She had never met a werewolf before, she'd read about them, but never been this close to one personally. She was intrigued.
“Lucius.” At the sound of her Master's name she cocked her head slightly, turning her gaze from the werewolf.
“Yes, Mi-Lord?” Her Master spoke gracefully, years of good breading yielding a cultured tone to his voice.
“In lieu of such improvements on your behalf, I bequeath this half-breed to you and yours.”
Many of the other robed figures which seemed to have been eying the creature with sparkling eyes growled and protested at being denied this prize at Revels. Belle didn't pay their quips any attention, her full attention on her master. He had just acquired the werewolf.
Her Master looked down on her, and curled sculpted, pale fingers in the sun-shaded ringlets by her ear. “Belle.” His voice was soft as well, flowing over her like warm bath water.
She straighted, but was careful not to raise her eyes, “Yes, Master.” Her voice was light and waif.
“What do you think?”
Belle contemplated not telling her Master of her interest but decided against that. It wouldn't do her well to lie to him who knew all her secrets. “I like very much, Master.”
He smiled.
(beat)
“I think,” Lucius Malfoy spoke carefully, you just didn't go giving gifts out on compunction. “He would do well with you Pet.”
Belle's blue eyes lit up and she tilted her head slightly from where she sat on her knees at feet, and she told herself to breathe.
Her voice was low, as she tried to keep the surprise out of her voice, “Master?”
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