The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 31: Family Feud

Chapter 31: Family Feud

Home. Home at last. The familiar warmth and scent of the house eased his aching body and mind as he made his way to his office. Although he'd clocked out of work over an hour ago, his duties were far from being over just yet.

As he walked through the hallway, he glanced into the living room to see that a fire was slowly dying in the fireplace - its embers casting a warm glow over the otherwise unlit room. He could just about make out a figure draped in blankets who was fast asleep on the sofa. His heart gave an attempt to ache with longing at the sight of her, but the thoughts swimming through his busy mind quelled any kind of ache, swell or pang his heart tried to achieve.

He continued onwards down the hall towards his study, treading as lightly as he could so as to not disturb the woman on the sofa.

He sat down in the office chair with a thud and a long sigh, his eyes automatically closing as he stilled for a moment, and he found it very difficult to keep his eyes open when they burned with a longing for sleep.

He hadn't slept well at all for the past few weeks. Things were constantly bothering him. Corrupting him. Angering him. Images of a manor and a young woman and an incredibly arrogant, manipulative man who thought he could get the better of him. He clenched his fists at the mere thought of that man and everything he'd done.

But what kept him awake at night most of all was the image of two blackened bodies, mangled and burnt to the crisp, sadistically nailed to their office doors like dolls.

Archie Stokke and Franklin Marchbank's everlasting screams haunted his thoughts. But so did the fact that he couldn't bring punishment upon the man that did this to them.

The door creaked open behind him, but he didn't turn to look, not even as gentle arms wrapped their way around his body, and a pair of soft lips graze his neck.

"Working overtime again?" the woman's voice asked gently. "It feels as though I haven't properly seen you in weeks."

He ignored her, focusing on the papers scattered on the desk in front of him. Trying desperately to connect something. To piece together whatever complicated jigsaw surrounded the manor and its inhabitants.

"I heard you coming in. I tried to wait up for you - I even drank three cups of coffee - and you know how much I hate the stuff at night, but my eyelids still managed to betray me as soon as I sat in front of that fire," she offered him a meagre giggle but it was met with nothing but silence from the man once more.

"Anthony," the woman said desperately when she received no reaction from him, the dejection evident in her voice as she pulled away.

Anthony turned to her with a long sigh, and the pained confusion written across her delicate face hurt him. She absentmindedly ran her fingers through a few strands of her strawberry blonde hair before she crossed her arms over her chest and waited for an explanation.

"Cayra, look, I'm sorry. This job is draining. I'm knackered. And I can't for the life of me forget about Archie and Frank."

He could hear Cayra's heavy breaths. He knew she was tired of hearing it by now. After all, he'd been distant and distracted for weeks now. But despite that, she still spoke delicately. She still tried to comfort him whilst carefully trying to knock him back to his senses for what must be the fiftieth time. "It wasn't your fault, Anth."

He shook his head. "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me!" Cayra snapped, her voice rising and now devoid of the gentleness it had previously held. "I'm your fiancée for Merlin's sake!"