Wool's Orphanage, January 1st, 1934, Tom
A chilling sensation shocked his veins and jerked him awake. His feet were ice cold as all the blood in his body rushed to his head. Startled, it felt as though he was falling in his dreams. It was dawn and the birds had already begun chirping, however, his eyebrows frowned at the sound to which most people found pleasant. The cool morning air was crisp with the morning dew absorbed into the air. The air was wet but not humid, and rather refreshing.
The simplistic room hasn't been lit up by the morning sun, yet some beams of light had managed to soak through the cloth's pathetic attempt of a curtain as it infiltrated into his room.
It felt like any other boring day but something was wrong. His body ached as if he could feel it too.
"She's hurt," he muttered.
He had never been more confused yet certain and so he investigates. Walking up to his door first, the wooden floor warmed his ice-cold feet. He paused as the floor creaked, listening for other sorts of movement. The creaking of the floorboards seemed to had originated from the room next door, where she is. When the birds were all he heard, he proceeded through the door.
Checking both ways for other signs of activity, he cracked open her door and swiftly slid through, into her room. As he shuts the door in front of him, he finally let out the breath he had been holding in, until he was greeted with the 'thing' he was curious about.
"Excuse me?" He turned to look at the girl whose room he just barged into. The girl was lying on her dirty, thin mattress which is now soaked a deep scarlet. As he analysed her features, her complexion was drained of blood and covered in sweat.
He looked around at the room, the acoustics triggered chains of memories as he observed the atmosphere. The room used to belong to Ann Green. He smirked at the memory. Would this girl be his next Ann Green? "Are all muggles like this? Insensitive to manners?" She questioned with a threatening undertone in her fragile voice that's about to break anytime.
He didn't know what muggles meant but he knew she wasn't complimenting him. However, the ignorance of her proximity to death amused him. Doesn't the girl have something more important to worry about than him entering her room? "What are you doing here?" she croaked this time. It became more obvious that she is dying as he approached her.
"Go to Mrs. Cole." He blurted, shocked at the words that escaped his mouth.
"I'll be fine." She laid down again and pulled the blood-stained blanket over her body again to combat the hyperthermia threatening to plague her body. The reaction angered him but at the same time intrigued him. How can one be so oblivious to her situation?
Shouldn't she be desperately gripping to whatever could she could hold onto to keep herself alive?
What a dumb animal, he thought. That rabbit Tom strangled in the bushes fought harder than she did.
He walked over and yanked her blanket away causing her to wince at him.
Looking down at the nearly lifeless body, she was whimpering, clutching her freshly bloodied side as she looked up at his emotionless face which confused her to no end. It frustrated her that she didn't know what Tom's intentions are. He pried her arms away and looked at the scarlet patch on her torso, mixed with her old dried up blood. He was allured by the deep red gushing out and he was tempted to feel the wound with his fingers. To feel the form of the flesh. However, at the same time, he was scared.
ŞİMDİ OKUDUĞUN
The Monsters in Our Heads || Tom Riddle x Reader
Hayran Kurgu...these contents are not for the faint-hearted. Tom Riddle didn't like to believe that there was a god, that there was someone more powerful than he is no matter how hard he tried. He didn't like how one's power was limited to where one was born...
