The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 17: Impulsion

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Chapter 17: Impulsion

Tom closed the doors to his chambers after Estela had entered and paced the length of the long room, running a hand through his black hair occasionally as he peered around him, deep in thought.

Estela felt as though she could do nothing but watch from where she was standing. She knew what he must be feeling. She knew of the anger and disappointment that must be swirling through his veins right now. He had spent weeks, perhaps even months, planning the recruit and it had all been a failure. And Estela knew that failure was not something that Tom was accustomed to.

Estela had to close her eyes for a second. She still felt flustered after the whole ordeal with Selwyn, her head still throbbing from the pain that Tom had instilled. She looked to the long, thin windows that stretched their way across the long wall before her, looking out upon the many acres of land that seemed to stretch on for miles. It seemed to be a calm and clear night, and a bright crescent moon hung serenely in the star-specked sky above the Manor, giving a dim sheen to the trees and grass outside.

It was dark in Tom's chambers, she noticed, despite a few lamps being lit here and there, the only other source of light being that of the moon which streaked in through the tall windows like thin translucent pools. She glanced around the large lounge area, at the shelves of books that lined the wall to her right, the letters, books and parchment that covered every table and desk, the strange little trinkets that lined the fireplace, and the swirling stairwell that led up to two separate rooms.

She had never been up there. She supposed one led to Tom's bed chambers, but she wondered what lay behind the other door.

She strolled over to the fireplace and examined the unique little trinkets and artefacts that adorned the mantelpiece and almost let out a beastly growl when her eyes fixed upon three single seeds atop the mantle. Three individual moonseeds - tiny, glowing crescent moons. The poison that Tom used to kill Cassandra.

She remembered the way Cassandra's blood poured over her desk as she lay cold and still, and a cold chill ran its way up her spine as though ice cold fingers were tracing her back.

She rolled her neck and moved on, pretending she hadn't seen them, because when she eyed Tom and saw he still hadn't stopped pacing, she had a strange feeling about his intentions for bringing her here.

"Well?" Estela finally asked when Tom showed no signs of stopping in his loop of steps.

But at the sound of her voice he did, and slowly he turned to her, tilting his head like some sort of calculating predator. And when he took the first step towards her, Estela flinched a bit, not because he was doing anything wrong, but rather because of the way he was moving and acting. With each step, he seemed to be radiating a sensual grace and calm ease as he made his way towards her. It was unnerving. Interesting to watch, but unnerving. And definitely intimidating.

He was closing in on her, and for some reason her heart was pounding in her chest like it wanted to leap right out and sprint its way across the moonlit lawns. And when he was nothing but mere inches from her, she held her breath, but he walked straight past her, and with a thud, he sat down on the sofa by her side and loosed a breath that sounded like it had been held in for quite some time.

She watched him curiously, and when he did nothing but give her a small nod in the direction of the sofa opposite him, she took it as her cue to sit. And so she did.

Silence fell between them for a while, with no sounds meeting her ears but her own quick breaths and the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the room around her. Then he lifted his radiantly dark eyes towards her, and the bond between them went taut. So taut she found herself being practically deprived of air in her lungs.