𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐘, 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠

Regulus

Kreacher promised to stay by your side. You told him to go. He cried as you collapsed.

You tried to do some good. Maybe you'll succeed before your untimely death.

Kreacher took the locket. You hold the fake one tight and drag yourself to the basin.

You toss it in and fall. A reprieve from the horrors that are replaying over and over again in your mind.
A sad smile flits across your worn face. Nobody will know the part you played in Voldemort's downfall. It's better that way.

You cough and look up at the dark cave's ceiling. Not the most beautiful thing to look at upon death, but at least the inferi aren't swarming you right now.

Spoken too soon, because they were ghastly things that were possessed and evil. They reached up and tried to pull you down, and you didn't bother fighting. You couldn't even if you tried. You felt helpless and stuck in your own body, constricted and alone. Cut off from the world entirely.

This cause was worth your life, and death was going to take his compensation for all of the things you did in Voldemort's name. Well, you went. No point in fighting it when you're already being pulled down under.

Your eyes glass over as you too are long gone in the sea of inferi.

It's over.

the story is mine.
playlist credit: fairiesrot