destruction | t.m.r

chapter sixty seven.

Leaving early in the morning just right after the storm passed I meet with Buddy at the graveyard. Leaves fell from the trees leaving them naked for the wind to play with the branches that were once full with juicy furits.

The graveyard was empty and cold, gray stones surrounded me calling my name. Would my body sleep inside the wooden coffin or would people burn my body to never let me reincarnate and be terrible to the world again?

Wizarding people must think such awful and ungodly things about me, probably heard stories that weren't even true but were spread around to make me fit in to the group of the people I "work" with.

They aren't wrong, I am a terrible person. I do not say otherwise, in my life there were things done that shouldn't have been. I have killed and tortured uncountable number people with my own free will and putting blame on Tom was always the last line in my justification.

When doing those ghastly deeds it was sometimes hard to remember that there is a heart between your ribs.

When you kill a person everything disappears for a while. Leaving you with the feeling of rage but at the same time hollowness. I take blame for it, even now when people call me a kinslayer.

Kinslayer.

I butchered purebloods, muggles and half-bloods under my own will, no orders for me to follow existed. As death eaters one particular morning went to ambush the ministrys men and woman, I stood at the very back.

That very incident was in papers for a while, every single wizard and witch were killed in a gruesome way. By magic of course, their corpses were laid neatly on the stone path, except the one that I killed.

Somebody had to give them a message, so that task belonged to me.

Out of the group I picked an individual that made by blood boil the most. It was a young and corrupted man that was of an exception value to the Ministry.

Layll Lupin.

A wizard who was married to Hope Howell, a man who made my heart one size smaller.

I almost didn't recognise him, he was so disgustingly handsome, grew in to his features and held himself like a nobleman. Shame he had a personality of an idiot and a magic that was far too weak to belong to a auror.

He recognised me immediately only because I was the same, just far more angry.

"Myra? Is that really you?" He asked out loud, we were alone in an alley. He of course tried to run away. "Yes, it's me Lyall." I said while a happy smile, his face and the sweat coating it made me want to kill him more than anybody else.

A weak cunt.

That is what he is.

"You do not want to do this, you do not." Putting his wand up he tried to disharm me of my own wand, the only thing he didn't know what that I needed it not. Except the first spell that flew right at him, leaving him unmoving for an hour leaving me enough time to get the job done.

"I will show you now what you made me that night." The words he spoke still cling at me, weighting me down by the shoulds. They will do no such thing from this night on.

I first started with removing his clothes.

He had a nice body, fit and masculine. It's a shame I have to ruin it.

From the face down I skined him alive and by the time I was done blood streamed from his eyes that popped from the pain and torture. To get the message across I hanged his body at the top of the bank in the Diagon alley, leaving it for everybody to see.

That night I returned to the Riddle manor with hands, face and hair full of blood that was not mine. Everybody wanted to know what I did, and they found out soon enough as the paper was laid down flat for them to read in the morning at the table.

"AN AUROR SKINED ALIVE!"
"A BURN OF A DARK MARK WAS FOUND ON HIS WRIST. HIS FAMILY AND RELATIVES ARE UNDER INSPECTION."

They all speculated that he was a death eater, but protested against his Dark Lord so he was skined alive by his mutuals.

That was almost true, as his heart was black as the soil that now coats his body in the ground.

"Myra." Tom said to me, asking me to follow him towards our room. He was strangely quite about the whole killing Lupin thing. "What is the matter?" I asked, pulling the chair from the table that was coated in various papers and potions.

"I want you to stay here from now on." No more fighting, he doesn't want me out there. "Why?" I questioned his lack of emotions along the weird request. "Does there have to be a reason?" He was starting to play games and I did not like them, only because I always lost.

"Of course, others will probably say something or they themselves wouldn't want to go out again." There were many possibilities that could happen. "I care for you and they know that. They will understand." They will not.

"They are scared of you." I said as he went to stand in front of me. Tom Riddle never lost his handsome face which made him even more terrifying. He doesn't have a nose of a snake and eyes that are like the ones of a cat, he has a perfect jaw along the cheekbones. Little stubble that was growing made him look older and more intimidating.

"They should be." Was his response.

I took his hand in mine, touching it was nothing strange but still whenever we come in some kind of contact I get the urge to pull him towards me. "You can not win the war if you lead people that are scared of you." I spoke in a soft fone.

His right hand came to my face, fingers softly stroking my cheek.

"Only fear keeps men in line. Fear and punished."

Tom Riddle was not a stupid man and you should never underestimate him, even if you think you are better.

You are not.