An Heir

Part Thirty Six- The Curtain Closes

I awoke to the searing pain in both my arms and chest and that familiar stinging from the nape of my neck to the base of my spine, but after that there was nothing. I began to take count of the sensations as I watched the light flutter behind my eyelids. The dirt under my cheek was moist with early morning dew, or blood- one of the two. My left arm was hanging limply over my head and my face and head felt swollen and bloody. “Fuck.” I thought, trying to move my legs.

“Imogene.” My breathing was erratic and I could feel my heart racing against my ribcage which felt broken.

“Imogene. Don’t move, there’s a lot of venom in your bloodstream,” My mind began to race now as well. I opened my eyes and all I could see was bark. All around me there were leaves and grass and soil and on top of my lower body rested a tree.

I couldn’t speak yet, my mouth was dry and my throat felt gory and scratched. I could tell without asking him, that Sthyss was attached rather firmly to my birthmark. My vision rocked and I was forced to close my eyes as flashes of thoughts crossed my mind- not one of them belonging to me.

“Relax, these are from my mind.” Sthyss told me in a drained voice. I tried to respond but about all I could manage was a twitch of my upper lip, everything else seemed too much.

Emotions, thoughts, memories, they all became one as I grew more aware of Sthyss’ mind inside my own. Except it wasn’t quite inside yet, it was like it was beside my mind but inside the same headspace- like all of a sudden another brain had been crammed inside my skull. I saw scenes from my childhood, from Salazar Slytherin’s childhood, even the rare scene from Voldemort’s, all mingled in with visions of people I didn’t know, all of them though appearing to have some sort of connection to my family. All of these things were bombarding my brain as the air around me grew colder and even the grass beneath me shivered as the sky grew cloudier.

I forced open my eyes and became painfully aware of my body yet again, each and every fibre of my being was crying out, every inch of me except all that had been crushed by the tree.

I began to feel that heaviness and weariness that I had the night I’d almost died and knew I was almost past that point, in fact if it wasn’t for Sthyss, I knew I would be.

I spotted black cloaks in the sky not far away to my right.

“No.” I hacked sorely, trying desperately to muster some strength in my one good arm. Panic set into my bones and I willed for some meagre spur of adrenaline or something to help me. The Dementors floated in closer and I could feel the trickle of freezing cold sweat run down from my hairline all the way down to the base of my throat.

“Be still.” Sthyss instructed me. He couldn’t see the looming blackness that was less than four metres away now or feel the sickening despair in my throat. I was finally defeated in my attempt to move the tree hindering my movement, and so it was with fiery limbs and a tear upon my cheek that I watched the six demonic monsters swoop between the branches and begin drawing the happiness out of me.

“No.” Sthyss sounded suddenly in anguish. His brain had just seemed to realise what was happening and I was helpless to do anything. Two of the six came closer, close enough that I could feel the ghastly material of their nightmarish robes flicker across my skin.

Then, with time thick and gooey, like custard, a skeletal hand curled around my head, knotted itself in my hair- not that movement at this point was possible and pulled me upwards.

Closer to the Dementor’s hood.

Before me was the terror that awaited those who had committed the most serious of crimes. The Dementor’s Kiss. Its second bony hand came up and let the hood drop back, the only thing stopping me from screaming being the inert sense that I was no longer in my own body.

Its face was a grotesque mottled skull, upon which had been plastered liberal coatings of what looked to have once been burnt scraps of ink-soaked parchment. The mouth which was drawing nearer to my own, had no lips, just as the eyes held no eyeballs but rather were filled with a hollow emptiness, which was like staring into the deepest pit of hell and getting pulled closer to the edge of those twin abyss’ with each rancid breath.

It’s papery lips connected with mine and I felt hollowed out.

Like a doll whose inner stuffing had been taken out and discarded.

It consumed everything that was in me, and my head which had been so full, now seemed near empty.

My eyes rolled up into the back of my head and vision left me.

The End