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His head was throbbing with pain as an unwanted replay of memories flashed in front of him. With Eleanor gone and the time loop broken at last, he was reliving it all in his head one by one. 

The first time he had met her, the first time she had killed him and then over and over and over again as the loop had repeated countless times. He clutched his head in his hands, each repetition far worse than the previous one, making him wonder how she was still sane after all that she had been through at his hands.

He hated himself; it was not a new thing for him though, he hated himself for countless reasons. He hated himself for being a halfblood, for being unable to save his mother, for giving those Muggles at the orphanage authority over him, for every single thing that had happened in his life that he couldn't control.

But right then he hated himself for going to extremes with her, for damaging her in the worst possible way and then still expecting her to fall at his feet. It was the first time he had hated himself for something he had done and been fully in control of.

For the first time, he felt a stab of guilt.

He knew that no one in the whole wide world could be classified as a saint. They were all monsters yet by that moment, he felt like he was the worst of them all.

But wasn't it his own main target to become that monster?

No one had committed more crimes than he had in order to achieve immortality, of course he was the worst of them all. He was already a monster, through and through.

Still, he believed in a statement he had coined himself from back when he was just a student at Hogwarts: There was no good or evil. Only power and those too weak to seek it.

He was always extremely observant and just from his school years he had reached the conclusion that power was a drug no one could refuse and it could turn even the purest of saints into the worst of monsters. Power was responsible for corruption if not used wisely.

Power was poison and yet at the same time it was stronger than the Elixir of Life itself.

Power was temporary just like many other things in the world. But power in the hands of an immortal was worth being feared.

That was the sort of power he craved; to be able to live forever and be the supreme out of all others.

But as the memories played on and on in his head, he was forced to believe that he had not used his power wisely either and was definitely corrupted. He had abused it by taking the lives of so many innocents even though it wasn't absolutely necessary.

Innocents like Myrtle, Nicole, Laverne and countless others.

He sat up at last, forcing out all the unpleasant thoughts out of his head.

He could not tolerate exhibiting any sign of weakness and yet those memories were driving him inane, making him long for her and feel repulsed at his own self at the same time, pushing him to his very limits and weakening him.

Tom knew he had to distract himself or else all the memories would eat him up from the inside. So he chose the only way of distraction he could think of.

He summoned Silas Avery.

Not long had passed until the blonde wizard turned up, his features pale in fear because he knew the Dark Lord would demand an answer from him regarding Eleanor Troy but he hadn't found a singe trace of her yet.

It was almost as if she hadn't even existed. Almost as if she had turned up from nowhere and just as abruptly she had faded into nonexistence again.

"My Lord," he bowed his respectfully before the dangerous wizard with stormy grey eyes and lethal features set in a hard look.

"Have you found Eleanor?"

The hesitation was evident from his tone as he spoke up, "I have tried my best, My Lord. I went to America to trace her family, I tracked her back to ever single place I had seen her here as well but... But she has just vanished. It's... It's almost as if she didn't even exist..."

"Of course she exists!" He thundered, "if she didn't then who were you flirting shamelessly with at the Leaky Cauldron?"

His face paled further and no word escaped his lips, he could feel the jealousy radiating clearly off him and it scared him even more. Tom Riddle was usually a very unpredictable person but spurred on by the venoms of jealousy, he was twice more terrifying.

"Answer me!"

"My Lord... I have searched the best I coul..."

His bony hand closed onto Avery's throat, the slender spidery fingers wrapping around his jugular threateningly, "were you not interested in her, Silas? Were you not trying to charm her back then? You of all people should have known very well where she went."

"I swear, I know nothing about her."

"Or what if you are intentionally hiding her from me just because you wouldn't want her to be out of your grip? Answer me, Silas, where are you keeping her?"

"My Lord, I have no idea... You can read my mind if you have any doubts... I would rather die than dare to keep anything from you."

"Die then," the grip tightened and Avery almost choked, his eyes widening in alarm and face turning livid.

"My Lord, please..."

"I gave you a task but you failed," a deadly calm swept over him as he spoke, "and failures ought to be punished."

At that moment, Avery could see his death hovering over him, "have mercy please... I have been a faithful servant to you, please... Spare me..."

"Mercy is for those who deserve it," Tom let go of his throat but the yew wand was twirling in between his fingers, indicating the next step.

"My Lord, I beg you..."

"Begging is for the weak," he had raised his wand, pointing it straight at his heart as he cursed, "Avada Kedavra!"

Avery's eyes widened as the curse hit him square in the chest, his heart coming to a fatal stop as he fell on the ground lifeless.

Another unnecessary death, a voice whispered in Tom's conscience but he shut it out.

He had no time to think about what was necessary and what wasn't, he had no time to spare the weak or the useless people that hindered his path. He had no time nor will to spare Avery either. Hence he did what he did best.

He took his life with no regrets.

***

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