Malevolent Heart [Tom Riddle. & M.R.]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 | 𝐑𝐞𝐝

The monsters subside my aching pain, with ghosts of haunted memories that never disappeared.  I wake in the middle of the night with a bead of sweat along my forehead. Instantly calmed by Mattheo who lays beside me, his breaths soft and slow with a peaceful overcast.

I look towards the window and see the Great Lake a dark blue, no rays of sunlight beaming through the water confirming it must be the middle of the night.

I want to stay and watch him sleep- a foreign sight indeed, but I hear soft knocks at the door. Riddle's don't allow anyone to see them in their most vulnerable, sleeping peacefully with nothing bounding them to the dark abyss. And right now he's as calm as he can be, and I want to savor the moment watching the purest form of himself.

But that knock is a pounding anchor and something is telling me to twist it open.

I must be crazy, but I manage to leave the bed without waking Mattheo and head towards the faint knocks that grow louder with each step. Carefully I unlock the door and have a gut feeling something is wrong when I see Draco distressed and his hair messily done.

"What's wrong? Is he okay?" I whisper, cautiously shutting the door stealing one last glance at Mattheo who continues to sleep soundlessly.

"No they're not" Is all he says rushing ahead and I hurriedly follow Draco who speeds past the hall and into his dorm.

My stomach in knots when I realize what he said.

They.

I walk into chaos, the scent of blood profoundly rising. Like deja vu I see Tom sitting on the floor with his head laid against the wall, his face a pale white. Theodore holding towels to his bare chest and shoulder to try and stop the immense bleeding. His arm looks as if it's been splinched, connecting to his chest and creating even deeper wounds. Then I look to my left and see Damien facing scars not as bad, but still horrible nonetheless. Blaise helping him the same way Theodore is helping Tom.

Damien looks terrible with his chest facing slashes that are engraved with black almost as if the wizard left their mark with dark magic. I notice he's having an easier time breathing and not filling the cloth with blood whereas Theodore's hands drip the crimson liquid.