Dark Harry: Reign of Riddle

Prologue

Harry screamed.

Pure pain ripped through his skull.

He wanted to die.

Darkness consumed his very being.

All that remained of him was collateral damage, spells had shot through every inch of him, leaving behind more bruises and gashes than human flesh.

Voldemort's voice surrounded him, it was deafening.

His cold cruel laugh taunted him.

It laughed as he lay there, pathetic, not even able to stand.

 How far he had fallen; from Champion of the Tri-Wizard cup to a mere corpse, laying in a puddle of his own blood; every bone in his body cried for water.

It was a miracle that he hadn't passed out, Wizards were stronger than the average human, but even if one were to spread his injuries across that of an army, all that would remain would be a pile of corpses.

He was ready to die, Harry wanted to jump into Death's cold arms, if only he could move into the light, all this would be over.

He was a fool; it truly took the most idiotic person upon this earth to make such a stupid decision. 

What was he thinking? His cousin was dead, and it was all his fault. The image replayed in his head, again and again he watched the last spark of life leave Dudley's eyes.

He wanted to hate himself for it. More so than anything, he wanted to feel ashamed of what he had done. But that was just it... he didn't feel shame, only exhilaration.

He had done it, Harry Potter, had killed Dudley Dursley. His eyes had watched from afar as Vernon and Petunia cried over the dead body.

Even after murder, his fall from grace continued. What happened next would be the final stake in his coffin.

After looking back on it, he should have planned this better. If he had just been smart, then Harry wouldn't lay here in Voldemort's shadow, waiting for certain death.

But that had to be it,

This was the end of his story.

Voldemort would kill him, and that would be that... right?