He hated her with every single inch of his entire being. She hated him just as much. He was a ex-Death Eater and she was the daughter of the most notorious dark wizards. The first moment he laid eyes on her, Draco knew she was going to be trouble. T...
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Her screams, that's all I could hear.
I watched her scream on that table. I watched her scream until her lungs gave out and she couldn't scream anymore. I watched as Fenrir Greyback shoved his filthy paws over Armena, bending her over and exposing her to himself. I watched him lick his lips and salivate over her, as he held her down. I knew the disgusting thoughts that were blazing through his mind. I knew exactly what he wanted to do to her.
"This has to be done!" my father hissed into my ear, venom pouring out of his mouth.
His hands gripping around the back of my neck. He was holding me down, forcing me to watch Armena in agonizing pain. I couldn't move, I was stuck under his tight grip. I watched as Bellatrix Lestrange spread her daughter's arm out, like it was a piece meat, ripping apart her clothing and exposing her bare skin on her arm.
"My wand!" the deranged women screamed.
My father tossed the deformed object to her and she caught it in her hand, flipping it around skillfully. Bellatrix Lestrange dug her wand into Armena's flesh with force, so much force that it broke her tender skin. A single drop of dark blood poured out of her arm, the crimson pooling on the wooden table below.
And then my heart stopped.
I thought that I had seen everything evil in the world. I thought that watching Charity Burbage, my Muggle Studies Professor, murdered in front of my eyes was paralyzing but this was another level. This was pure evil. The screams coming out of her mouth were demented and filled with suffering. Armena screamed like I had never heard her before. Blood curdling screams, that made the crystal chandelier above rattle dangerously. The screams were so loud that the portraits around the room, who have seen countless bloodshed and murder, all covered their ears in terror. I looked over to Rabastan, my eyes pleading with him to do something. He just looked away, unable to watch his niece being carved into like a steak.
Her screams were enough to send me to my knees.
The only thing holding me up was my father's grip on my neck. I felt her pain and I felt it tenfold. I wanted to scream with her. I wanted to jump over the table and rip out Fenrir's heart for holding her down against the table. For pressing his body into the girl, forcing her to take what was coming to her. I wanted to hold my wand up to Bellatrix's throat, I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and slam her head into the floor until life left her already dead eyes. I wanted to laugh over her dead body.
Out of everyone in this room, I wanted to torture my father the most. I wanted to torture him in the way he was torturing me. What if this was his wife? What if this was my mum on the table? Would he stand for this? Would he let someone hold his neck and force them to watch her being tortured and scream in agony. I wanted him to feel the immense about of pain that I was feeling in this very moment, but nothing could hold a candle to what I was feeling.
