unhinged ↠ 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

fifteen

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I love the way he looks at me, I hate the way he talks to me

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Tom Riddle

I can see the fear in her eyes as I smirk.

This girl.

This girl is an idiot. She has no idea what she's doing. She doesn't know the true power running through her veins, she can't even explain her past. And she tried to kiss me? Multiple times, even. Yes, I kissed her first, but it was the only thing I was able to think of in the moment. My wand hadn't been broken, no, but it wasn't...with me, at the moment. I couldn't grab a pillow to smother her, it had been to far away for me to grab without letting my grip loose on her.

I chuckle softly. I want to kill her, I want to snap her neck and watch the life seep out of her as she crumples to the ground, screaming in agony. I want to curse her with a hundred different curses for what her family has done, for what she has done. But, of course, I cannot do that, because for her to give her blood willingly, I have to make her trust me.

I don't know how long I can keep pretending before I snap. It's been seventeen years of this, pretending I'm this perfect teenager with no bad faults, the Slytherin 'Head Boy' of Hogwarts, the perfect child.

In my fifth year, I made my first horcrux, a black notebook I write spells I mean to create. Now, I have seven others. To make the final, which will guarantee me both immortality and enough power to destroy the muggle world, ruling the wizarding world. Not only that, but with my blood being the blood of Salazar Slytherin, it would make me double the strength of anyone else who tried to take her power.

The only problem is, if she doesn't give me her blood willingly, it won't be as powerful, and there is a chance my anti-aurors losing to the Ministry of Magic.

As soon as she walked into the room, her head high and confident, I knew she was the Gryffindor Heir, or the Gryffindor Princess, just as I am the Slytherin Heir. I don't know how, but her mind was blocked off, unlike everyone else's, who I could read easily. People these days are so easy to read, so easy to manipulate.

Bute Kitioma...

She makes a small noise as I press my wand once again against her throat, holding her small body close to mine, her eyes clenched shut.

Sam didn't treat her like I asked. I asked him to make her fall for him, and judging by the breakup, she is unscathed.

Well...actually, I'm not to sure about that. I heard her crying in my room when I kissed her first, but I don't know whether it was because of Sam or how horrible I made her life.

I want to make her suffer. Drown in her sorrows. Tortured internally until she is driven to do stupid things she regrets...well, more than she already has.

So far, I think it's working.

But I need to push her a little more, to make her so conflicted she doesn't even know the rules of my games anymore.

My hand traces her back, and she shivers. Her sweater fabric is thin, cotton material in Gryffindor red.

"That colour looks bad on you," I say through a smirk. "How about we try out a new one?"

Her eyes are still clenched shut and I slip my hand under her sweater, to the small of her back, my hand against her cool, dark skin. "Riddle, don't-"