𝕸𝖆𝖈𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖊 ➳ 𝙃.𝙋

01

[1]

MACABRE

Darkness spoke to the girl. It placed a soothing hand onto the girl's hair and blew her a soft kiss.

"Let me in", darkness whispered airily to her, its voice familiar yet foreign, loud yet distant. "Let me in."

The girl did. Her spine shivered as the wind swept past her. It felt chilly yet oddly comforting.

She let darkness in.

She felt her soul bloom at its touch, sparkling vividly with the moonlight. It glimmered mesmerisingly as if it was a newborn star, radiating brilliance and youthful beauty. Her heart felt like ripples that harmonised the music in her body creating a tuneful and unique melody that sang the song of her life. Her touch was soft, fragile, flawless like a porcelain doll, its scent like fresh roses under the morning dew. She was bathing in the garden of perfection and it was darkness that let her in.

Persephone was tired. Her lips were pursed and closed, seemingly innocent as she attempted to sleep, unlike its usual possessive yet enticing nature. She had heavy bags under her eyes closed, that seems to always shine with an alluring mysterious light blue glow. Her thin smoothly shaped eyebrows were folded and tensed unlike the rest of her features. She was having troubles sleeping.

There was a darkness that swarmed around the apartment. It was strong and suffocating, almost painful. It was black and empty, almost like an abyss, a never-ending abyss. The girl welcomed the darkness, she survived on it, it was her medicine and her drug.

As her compartment lock snapped open, sliding open, the girl elegantly stood up at the sudden disruption. She had a tall and refined frame that held an undeniable confidence, the strands of her long black hair touching her hips, soft and silky. She held a sweetness, in no sense holding naivety but a tantalising grace that held firm authority to the onlooker. She was a diamond that seemed like the fragile porcelain. At the figures at the door, her face quickly morphed to a small smirk that did not reach her eyes, obscuring the vulnerability that held her weariness. She was beautiful. Effortlessly beautiful. Flawlessly beautiful.

"Persephone," the girl at the door said carefully, "I thought we would never find you." She had short dirty blonde hair that stopped and curved at her shoulders. Her fit body leaning against the open glass compartment door, it naturally longed for attention. Her skirt cut way above the average mid-thigh length but was covered mainly by her Slytherin robes. Her bright green eyes promised cunning and mystery, well known through her ancestry. Scarlett Abattage was a bastard, a brave bastard to say the least.

Her boyfriend, Theodore Nott, stood behind her with the same mysterious aura. He had an average build for a boy of 14 and his face radiated a light youthfulness. He had warm brown eyes, matching his messy brunette hair, that has tricked many to think he was weak. The couple had an 'arrangement' made by their parents, they were to engage as soon as they're of age. They had been dating at the time. The 'arrangement' seemingly a coincidence - except it wasn't. 

Then came Pansy Parkinson, her luscious blonde hair pulled into a carefully woven rough braid. Her arrogant nature diminished as soon as the compartment door opened, her concerned expression hidden by her attempt at coolness. Persephone smirked wider. She was the first to enter the compartment, sitting opposite to Persephone. Persephone kept her gaze at the door. The next to come in was the couple that previously stood at the doorway, Scarlett moved furtively and quickly to sit next to her. Theodore followed, letting Scarlett take dominance over the pair. Interesting.