Flee from Freedom - (mattheo riddle)

43: Winner

Perhaps i wasn't fully prepared for the scene i stumbled upon. 

Almost all of the furniture is damaged, lots of it upturned or smashed. Feathers from the cushions litter the floor, collecting in little piles, some stained with red splatters. Wooden splinters stick out at every angle, gathered near broken furniture, slowly diffusing away from the wood, disappearing in the middle of the room, where two people are. 

Mattheo is flat on his back on the floor, blood pouring from his nose, almost puddling on the wooden floor. His arms are eagle spread across the floor, his left reaching for the wand, metres away from him, the other almost there just to steady himself. 

Stood over him is Voldemort. His grimy feet are planted on each side of Mattheo's body, he's leaning down, teasing his son with a wand under his chin. The dark and dirty robes hang off him like rags, charred and ripped. 

At once as we all enter the room, his head snaps around to face us. His eyes are the same slits i remember, his forked tongue visible through his wide yellow grin. Snake-like holes for nostrils, grey-faced, but overall, delighted. However, there is something different. Lines run through his face, almost like cracks, as he decays from the inside out. I know in that moment we have to kill him. 

"Amara. Pansy, Lorenzo." Voldemort straightens his back up, lifting one foot over Mattheo, and turning to face us. "I knew you'd come."

Mattheo doesn't even try to move, taking the few seconds break of torture as a gift. 

"I must say, i felt, deeply injured." He moves around the room slowly. "To be betrayed by you all, it hurt." He hisses. "I do wonder where you were lead astray." 

None of us speak. 

"Hmmm." He smiles, i can feel his yellow eyes piercing us from here. "You are determined to cut all ties with me i see." He bows his head. "You aren't as loyal as your brother. However, i honeslty thought of you more than i did him."

"Sorry to disappoint." I mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

"I wonder, what you did with your brother, Draco?"

I don't move, yet i see Pansy and Enzo turn to face me slightly from the corner of my eye. 

"I couldn't find him."

"We both know that's not true Amara." 

I look down at Mattheo. Unbeknownst to his father, he's propping himself on his elbows, edging slightly towards the wand.

"I took care of Draco." I find myself saying the words before i can stop myself. Both Pansy and Enzo move their heads in some form of confused shock. 

"Took care of him?" Voldemort grins and tilts his head to the side. "Maybe you are more, death eater, than i thought. Is this when you also set your home on fire?" He cocks his head more, almost entirely consumed by the thought of my brutally murdering my twin brother. Almost infatuated with the thrill of the revenge i must have desired, the relief when i ended his life. 

"Yes."

"Judging by the smoke collecting around us." Voldemort gestures to the thick grey smog filtering through the doorway, running along the hall. I've begun to feel it in my lungs. "It shouldn't be long before the whole manor goes down."

"Better get on with it then:"

"STUPEFY." Mattheo launches the spell at his father, only seconds too slow as he blocks it.

It takes seconds for the rest of us to scatter, wands drawn.  

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

"STUPEFY."