OF SERPENT AND ANGEL ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎➝ tom riddle ¹ | ✓ |

FORTY-SEVEN

Encapsulated by water, Eliza couldn't breathe. She could hardly see through the trashing water and bubbles of oxygen that left past her lips around her. Nothing but the gushing of water as she struggled to get out could be heard either. One might think that this resulted in the atmosphere being oddly calm, but all did was terrify her.

Finally, at the flick of Tom's wand, the sphere of water crashed to the floor, allowing Eliza to fall roughly to the concrete, gasping for air.

She heaved her body up by her elbows, coughing up water as Tom's footsteps neared, the regular echo distorted by the inch thick layer of water that now covered the floor.

He crouched in front of her, taking a hold of her hair in order to pull her face up to look at him.

"Please don't do that to me again. Don't put me in there again," she whispered.

"But Eliza," he said snubbingly, "you said that you wanted to drown. Don't you remember? You tried to do it yourself." He pet her soaking wet hair, red eyes running along her face. "I'm trying to help you get what you want."

Eliza shook her head. "But it won't work," she croaked sorrowfully. "You said that I can't. You told me I can't die."

"Yes, you're right. You can't," Tom agreed. "But don't you want to be cleansed? Don't you feel dirty? Can't you still smell him around you?"

She cried, her lips quivering. "No – I – I don't – I didn't."

She didn't know what to think. She didn't know what she felt. And then she realised that if Tom knew all about Rosier, did he know too that she had attempted to enter his room?

No. It would have been much worse. If he knew, she did not want to even imagine what he would do to her.

"I can't let you die," said Tom. "I need you, Eliza, as little as I would want to admit it. I would be so bored, so lonely without you to keep me company. No, letting you die is out of the question ... but I can make you feel like you are."

Eliza attempted to crawl away from him, but she could barely breathe, much less move away quickly enough. She was freezing cold. It felt like her fingers turned to ice and then like they weren't there at all.

"They say that the first thing to happen is your circulation slows down – well, congestion in the lungs is first, but we need no help in making you short of breath. But ... your heart focuses on getting oxygen to your brain so it neglects the rest of your body," he told her. "Your limbs turn cold, it becomes hard to move."

He was right. As she attempted to crawl away, her arms were too heavy for her to move them,

"I – Tom, I – I can't see," she gasped, nothing seeing anything in the dark room. She couldn't see the light from the chandelier which reflected from the water that covered the floor, nor could she see Tom, his gaunt face where his crimson eyes shone. "I can't see."