Stars in Her Eyes {Wolfstar's Daughter}

Chapter 70: Cold Bodies

'They're dead and it's your fault and your going to kill them all.'

Nell pushed the voice out of her head, like forcing back against a rubber band. She knew it was useless, that there was no avoiding it. It wouldn't be long before it either sprung back or snapped entirely. But what more could she do than try?

They're dead.

She threw legs back and forth beneath her.

Get to the whomping willow.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

They're dead.

Her blood began to rush to her head.

Get to the willow.

A bead of sweat trickled over her lip.

Kill them all.

The hallways tunnelled into a vision of grey stone before her eyes.

The willow. The willow. The willow.

She found her brain reduced to impulses, short commands she could still make her body follow before the light of herself burnt out entirely.

Of course this wasn't the first time she had tried to fight the wolf, to see if she could overcome it. She had never fought this far without giving into the pain. But then again she had never had a whole school full of lives in her hands before.

But the wolf had never had such a tempting feast waiting for it before either.

The school would still be in the great hall for dinner. Somehow she could remember that. Or maybe the it was the wolf who wanted her to remember.

She took every hallway she could manage to get as far away from the hall but that echoing voice inside of her began to take a turn. A hall, full of unsuspecting people, waiting all for her. How could the wolf resist?

Her heart began to rattle against her rib cage.

No.

The wolf began to lift the reigns from her hands.

Turn back. You want to turn back.

A image of cold bodies crept into her mind.

No.

Piled to the ceiling, a fountain of blood trickling down tangled limbs.

All those warm bodies.

An ocean of overlapping heartbeats crashed down onto her senses. She could feel the blood pumping through each and every one of their hearts.

Please.

But just as she was about to fall off the precipice of her own self, someone threw her a rope.

"Nell?" A familiar voice broke through the surface sealing over her as she fell into someone's arms.

Only it sounded different slightly, from how she remembered. It sounded strained, rushed, panicked.

Looking up, she managed to blink away the cloudiness over her eyes as she gripped onto the person holding her with every ounce of control she had left.

"Harry" she croaked out, her knees buckling as a sharp pain shot across her body. The Wolf fighting back.

"Nell!" Another voice. She recognised it again. Then a hand on her shoulder.

Hermione.

Then someone else began to help keep her up.

Ron.