Stormseeker: Unwanted Destiny

I wake with a groan, and blink for a few moments. Nope, still seeing nothing. And to make matters worse, I'm tied up. A surge of blind panic rushes through me as I realize that. Perhaps I should have expected that I would be taken prisoner. At least I don't detect any sensation of nearby Dementors. Small consolation as that is.

I take a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm. Tom doesn't have any reason to hurt me, does he? I can't think of any reason why he should. But just because I can't think of anything doesn't mean that he doesn't have some reason that I don't know about.

I'm not left sitting there alone in the dark for long before there's footsteps, a creaking sound, and a rectangle of light. I squint into the brightness at the figure standing in the doorway.

"Hello, Lexen," says Tom Riddle. "I trust you had a good sleep?"

"Hello, Tom," I say. "It would be far better if I did not wake up tied up. What's going on?"

Tom chuckles softly. "I only promised you a year. Your year is now up."

My blood runs cold with dread. "I see," I say flatly.

"And you did say that if I ever wished anything of you, to come directly to you rather than threatening other people," Tom says lightly. "Rest assured that no one else you might possibly care for is in any danger."

"What do you want, Tom?" I grate.

"Also be assured that I will not be threatening you with the potential termination of your existence, no matter what you do here," Tom continues lightly. "So we can remove that fear from consideration. I am interested to see what you might do otherwise."

"So, what, you're toying with me?" I say.

"In a manner of speaking," Tom drawls. "I know that you cannot escape by going back to prevent your capture, and I have removed your possessions for the time being." He chuckles in amusement. "And even if you could, at the moment, the DMLE is out hunting for a 'Darth Revan', self-proclaimed Dark Lord."

"I was a little annoyed at them at the time," I say. I had been intending to try to work within the system and argue my case, but after seeing them unceremoniously snap my wand before I could even say anything to defend myself, it was a wonder I didn't hurt anyone.

"Why didn't you kill them?" Tom asks.

"I didn't wish to," I say. "Strange that you ask why I didn't kill the ones trying to arrest me, but not why I did kill Yaxley."

"I would assume that Yaxley must have done something, in your mind, to deserve it," Tom says. "You haven't made much of a habit of murdering my followers."

"He was about to rape an eleven year old Mudblood girl," I spit.

"Ah," Tom says. "Yes, perhaps it's just as well that he's dead, then. Be that as it may, you have taken one of my followers from me. I would have you take his place. I am certain that you would make for a much better servant than he did."

"I'm not going to be your servant," I snarl. "I will be no one's slave."

"Excellent," Tom says, grinning wickledly at me. "That's what I thought you might say, given the choice."

"I won't choose to surrender my free will," I say.

"Defiance will be punished. Obedience will be rewarded." Tom says. "Now, a demonstration of what your delightful defiance will earn you." He points his wand at me, and says, "Crucio."

My body is wracked with incredible pain for a few long seconds. Thankfully, he doesn't leave it up for very long. I stop screaming and slump over, trembling a little.

"I don't want to have to hurt you, Lexen," Tom says. "But discipline must be enforced. I will only respond to you in kind, for your own words and actions."

My heart is pounding in my chest. What have I gotten myself into this time? The only way this could possibly be worse is if I were in Azkaban. But what about my friends? Surely they will realize that I'm missing.

"My friends will come for me," I say, glaring at him. "You won't get away with this."

"Will they?" Tom drawls. "Don't get your hopes up. I have already taken care of that little detail. No one will come for you, Lexen. Here, it's just you, me, and those of my followers who are incapable of interacting with the rest of the world in a civilized manner. Perhaps you will have the opportunity to meet them as well."

I look to the floor, heart falling. I don't know what he might have done, but I have little reason to doubt that if he says no one will come for me, then no one will come for me.

"But, you won't need these for the moment," Tom says. He waves his wand, and the ropes binding me disappear.

"Thanks," I mutter, flexing my sore arms.

"Ah, you are perfectly capable of being polite," Tom says. "Don't think that I am unappreciative, even of the little things. Placeo."

The lingering discomfort from the Cruciatus Curse melts away, to be replaced by three brief heartbeats of incredible pleasure rather than pain. My eyes go wide, and I stare up at him, stunned.

"I look forward to our time together," Tom says, smiling at me in a positively terrifying manner. "I'll leave you to think on that for a little while." He turns and leaves the room, leaving me alone in the dark.

What in the Abyss was that? I didn't realize that there was a counterpart to the Cruciatus Curse, but I suppose it stands to reason. I can see pretty easily, however, just what he's trying to do to me. The question is, I suppose, what am I going to do about it? What are my options?

Option #1: Fight him until I go insane. Not a good choice, but a choice nonetheless.

Option #2: Surrender, do whatever he wants. Not a choice I would like to take, but if it's necessary to spare my sanity, I'll do it.

Option #3: Try to talk him out of this. I convinced him before not to just slaughter everyone, didn't I? Maybe I can do that again. Somehow, I doubt it's going to work, however.

Option #4: Stall for time until my friends can save me. That's pretty doubtful, but I'm not willing to rule out the possibility entirely.

Option #5: Attempt escape myself. That seems the most likely of a series of bad choices.

Option #6: Grab someone's wand and hit myself with a Killing Curse, and get myself out of this world entirely. I'd rather not do that, though. Not when I'm just about to start learning new things. Not when I have Cassie...

Option #7: Trick him into thinking that I'm giving in to him just so that I can get away. That's probably an even worse idea than Option #2, though. I don't know that my acting is up to pretending well enough for him, so I might as well just surrender.

Option #8: Try to contact the outside for help. If I can get off a message with a Patronus, an owl... a house-elf...

"Rispy!" I say.

There's a soft popping sound. "Huh? Where is this?" A light appears in the palm of the little elf's hand, and I wince and turn my head away from the brightness. "Sorry."

"Rispy," I say. "I'm being held prisoner by the Dark Lord. Get help! Please!"

"Shit," Rispy says. "I'll notify the Order of the Phoenix right away." He vanishes again, and the light goes with him.

I smile a little to myself. Help is on the way. I might just get out of this after all. And they will bring down the Dark Lord once and for all.

My joy is short-lived, however. The door opens again, and Tom Riddle stands there, his silhouette looking down at me menacingly.

"You should not have done that, Lexen," Tom says.

"And why not?" I say. "What are you going to do, torture me?"

"Of course," Tom says. "Crucio!"

I scream as the spell burns through my body for several long seconds. I have to laugh a little despite myself when it's over. "You can torture me all you like, but I will be free."

"You're forgetting something, Lexen," Tom says, leaning closer to me. "You can't escape."

With a flick of his wand, a curse strikes me. I clutch my chest and collapse, shuddering in pain. I can't breathe, and suddenly I'm coughing up something horrible.

"When you arrive back at this morning, tell me what happened," Tom says.

I can't respond. I can't speak. I can't breathe. My head is spinning. I'm dying. In moments, the darkness takes me.

I wake with a gasp in my cell and sight bolt upright. Well, at least I can breathe again. That didn't go quite so well as I had hoped. Alright, scratch that plan. I sigh, slumping down again against the wall. Not that I can move all that much with the ropes on me again, anyway.

After a few minutes, Tom comes in as he did before, and says, "Good to see you awake. I trust you slept well, Lexen?"

"At least you can spare explaining to me what I'm doing here again," I grumble. "You already killed me once."

"Oh?" Tom says. "What happened, praytell?"

"I summoned my house-elf to notify the Order of the Phoenix that you're holding me prisoner," I say. "So you tortured me again and killed me."

"You have done well in telling me this," Tom says. "Placeo."

I shiver for a moment as that strange, wonderful sensation rushes through me again for a few seconds.

"Now, I trust you've learned your lesson?" Tom says.

"I get the point," I mutter, sighing in resignation.

"Excellent," Tom says, waving a wand and making my ropes vanish. "I'll let you think on that for a bit."

He goes out and closes the door with a click, leaving me alone in the dark once again.

Alright, that idea failed. What else could I do? Make my own escape? I'm perfectly capable of casting a number of spells without a wand, and if I can find where Tom put my bag of holding, I'll be able to use the Elder Wand. I bear no illusions about being able to defeat the Dark Lord in a fair fight even with the Elder Wand, however. I might just be able to get away, however.

And then what? Tom Riddle is the Headmaster at Hogwarts. Even if I were to escape, I doubt he would let it slide, and allow me to continue to study there. Maybe I could get out of the country, and find another school of magic to attend. Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang, or the Salem Witches' Institute, or something.

And what? Do I really think that the Dark Lord won't find me? That he'll just give up? I may not be Harry Potter, but most of the world still thinks I am. And if he's set his mind upon having me on his side, it's going to wind up boiling down to beating him or joining him. If I escape, it won't be to flee the country. It'll be to join up with the Order of the Phoenix and fall under their protections, and find a way to defeat the Dark Lord.

I refuse to believe that defeating the Dark Lord is a hopeless prospect. Even such a great wizard as Dumbledore was able to be taken by surprise and brought down by a half-trained boy. If I can't find a way to escape, I might be able to make him think I'm on his side, and then betray him at the last minute and slay him.

As I'm sitting there thinking, the door opens again, and a light appears from the ceiling. Tom has returned, along with a house-elf carrying a tray of food. The little elf sets the tray down on the floor in front of me, gives a bow to Tom, and scurries out of the room. Tom closes the door behind her.

"Care for something to eat?" Tom drawls.

I eye the tray suspiciously, and look up at him.

"Don't be so paranoid," Tom says. "If I wanted you dead, I wouldn't need to poison you for that."

"Perhaps not," I say. "But you could still have laced it with Veratiserum. You won't be able to get Legilimency or the Imperius Curse to work on me, but you could still do that."

"What terrible secrets could you still be harboring that you're afraid of me finding out?" Tom says, raising an eyebrow.

I might say something horribly embarrassing. I don't think it matters, at this point, if he knows that I'm from another universe. Unless, of course, if he were to find out about the Nexus and find some way to use it to take over the multiverse or something, even though it's now inactive and unusable. I wouldn't put it past him to find a way to reach it anyway.

"If you really want to starve yourself, that's none of my business," Tom says lightly. "But I'm sure that it would be most unpleasant for you. Especially considering your inability to actually stay dead from it."

"You have a point," I mutter, reaching for the tray. It's not just bread and water or anything, but vegetable soup, sandwiches, and a glass of milk. I grab the bowl and start in on the hot soup.

"Now, let us have a little chat, shall we?" Tom says. "I don't expect you to just fall in with my agenda simply because I say so."

"Then what would you have me do?" I wonder.

"I would much rather convince you that my way is right," Tom says. "And I will not be satisfied with anything less. I could force you to comply by torturing you, threatening your existence, but all that would do is make you hate me."

"I don't think I'm capable of hating you," I mutter a little dejectedly, staring into my bowl of soup. I remember standing behind him, pointing my wand at him, unable to bring myself to cast the Killing Curse at him.

Tom chuckles softly, and say, "Then that makes it all the easier, doesn't it?"

"But, I'm not going to believe that slaughtering people, even Muggles, is right, no matter what you do," I say.

"We'll see," Tom says. "You have a month and a half to decide, after all. You want to be out of here by the time school starts, I assume, hmm?"

"Yes," I say, sighing.

"The Muggles are our enemies," Tom says. "Make no mistake about that. They would see us destroyed or enslaved for their own purposes. They fear what they do not understand. You've seen it yourself. What happened to young Harry Potter? What tender mercies did they visit upon him?"

I can't argue with that. I finish my meal quietly. Tom calls in the house-elf, Mipsy, to clean up after me.

"We'll talk more tomorrow," Tom says. "For now, I'll pose you the question. Would you like better quarters?"

I glance around at the cell. Nowhere to sleep but the floor, and a bucket in the corner of the tiny room whose purpose I can guess at. "I would be an idiot if I were to say no."

"Then ask," Tom says.

"Ask?" I say dumbly.

"If there is something you desire, ask me and I will consider it, within reason," Tom says. "And I will tell you what the price will be for it."

"I want to be let go," I say.

Tom chuckles. "I've already told you my conditions for that."

"It was worth a shot," I say, smirking. "Fine, what would be the price for better quarters? Or at the very least, a bed? Even a bedroll?"

"Lowering your standards much?" Tom says, chuckling.

"I'm just afraid of what you might say," I say.

"I'll let you out of here and even share my own quarters," Tom says. "If you can tell me that you love me. And mean it." He grins broadly at me.

I stare at him openly, and my heart practically leaps into my throat. "You're an evil man, you know that?"

"I've been told such by some," Tom drawls.

"I can't do that," I say.

"Very well," Tom says. "If you want a bed, I will ask you to grovel, and kiss the hem of my robes."

"I won't" do that," I say.

"Too much pride to beg, hmm?" Tom says. "So be it, then. If you want a bedroll, then, ask politely."

"May I please have a bedroll, sir?" I ask.

"Yes, you may," Tom says, grinning in amusement. "Mipsy! Bring our guest a bedroll."

The house-elf comes in again and spreads out a bedroll for me on the floor.

"Thank you," I say.

"You're welcome," Tom says with a smirk.

"I was talking to the elf," I retort.

Mipsy looks at me in confusion, and just gives me a bow before going off again.

Tom chuckles softly. "I shall return later." He leaves me as well.

The light goes off once Tom is gone, and I'm alone in the dark. I sigh, and curl up in the bedroll and try to sleep, for lack of anything better to do. I find myself unable to sleep, trembling, sobbing, feeling sick, miserable, and hopeless.

No, I can't start thinking like this. I can still escape. I'm sure of it. I just ought to take a nap first. Then I will see what I can do.

I wake in my cell after two hour long nap. Alright. No more fear. No more despair. I steel myself for what I'm about to try to do. Let's see how far my wandless magic has progressed.

"Lumos," I murmur, and a small globe of light appears in my palm.

I blink for a few moments and look away until I can see again. At least, failing all else, I have light. That beats being in the dark.

"Tempus," I say. It's ten o'clock at night, apparently. It's a little disorienting not knowing what time of day it is. I'm a Time Mage, but my innate time sense isn't as well-refined as it could be, especially without any frame of reference.

I take a step toward the door, and say, "Alohomora." The door doesn't budge. I pull forth more force, carefully making the movement with my fingertips, and say "Alohomora!" The door shakes a little, but still doesn't open.

I take a deep breath, and focus all of my will upon the idea of freedom for all beings. No one deserves to be a slave. No one deserves to be a prisoner. No man or woman, witch or wizard, elf or goblin or anything else! I might not have always done everything I ever could for that cause, but I still believe. I still believe in freedom!

"ALOHOMORA!" I scream.

The door flies open with a clatter. Thankfully, there doesn't appear to be anyone in the immediate vicinity, or they'd definitely have heard my impending escape.

I head out into the hallway and look around. There's light out here, at least, so I don't really need the glow in my palm. Where might they have put my bag? I'm going to need that, or at the very least a wand to start off with, any wand.

"Accio my bag," I say.

Nothing happens, however. I didn't really expect it to work, though, especially considering I don't even know where it might be. No help for it but to start looking around. I start looking into every door along the way, wondering just what sort of building it is that I'm in. The room serving as my cell seems to be a large closet. I come upon a bathroom, an unoccupied bedroom, and what appears to be house-elf quarters.

"Hello, Mipsy," I say. "Can I ask you a few questions, maybe?"

The house-elf looks up at me with big eyes, then shakes her head, clearly terrified.

"Did your masters forbid you to talk to me?" I ask.

Mipsy pauses for a moment, then nods her head.

"Did they also forbid you to follow any commands from me?" I ask.

Mipsy nods her head again.

"Did they order you to notify them if you saw me here?" I ask.

Mipsy shakes her head.

"Alright," I say. "Do you know where they put my belongings?"

Mipsy pauses again, then gives a nod.

"Can you point me there, or show me, maybe?"

She looks at me uncertainly.

"I have chocolate in my bag," I say. "I will give you some if you can point me in the right direction."

Mipsy's eyes widen, and a broad smile spreads across her face. She nods enthusiastically. The house-elf scrambles out of the room and down the hall. She must really like chocolate.

We come to the top of a staircase. From here, I think this must be an old pureblood house, perhaps one belonging to one of the Azkaban escapees. The staircase opens up into a wide hall with a tall, vaulted ceiling. There doesn't appear to be anyone in sight at the moment. Tom said that the house is only occupied by himself and a handful of Death Eaters right now, so hopefully I'll be able to escape without being noticed.

Mipsy puts a finger to her lips, and creeps down the stairs. I follow along after her quietly. Down another hallway, and she points at the door at the end.

I try the door. It's locked. "Alohomora," I whisper, and the door opens.

It looks to be a broom cupboard. After a little poking around, I find my bag tucked away in a corner. I grin and pull out all the chocolate I have stored away in case of Dementors, and pass it over to Mipsy.

"Thanks for your help," I say quietly. "There's your reward. Best run along now before someone sees you."

Mipsy beams broadly and takes the chocolate, then disappears with a pop.

I pull the Elder Wand out of my bag. Good, he didn't take it. And it still sings to my soul. Sings for death. It's time to get out of here. No, it's time to kill.

I head back out to the central hall with the stairs, looking around the place for a way out. The next room over is a dining room, where two rough-looking men are huddled over a table, devouring a small feast.

"Avada Kedavra!" I cast, and a flash of green light takes the life of the first one.

"What the devil?" says the other, fumbling about for his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" I cast again, and he joins the other in death. "Too slow."

Ah, that felt way better than it probably should have. And I still want to kill more.

As I continue on out toward where I think the exit might be, a woman I recognize crosses my path. Bellatrix. Her. Yes, I want her dead.

"Avada Kedavra!" I shout.

Bellatrix manages to dodge, the flash of green light narrowly missing her. There's a wand in her hand in an instant, pointing at me. "You!" she shrieks, and then proceeds to bombard me with curses.

"Protego!" I cast to put up a shield, dodging some of her curses and blocking the rest.

"I will destroy you!" Bellatrix screams. "And if I don't, my master will for sure!"

I don't waste time talking in combat, generally. "Tentacula Tenebrae!" I cry. Black tendrils spring forth from nowhere and entangle Bellatrix. They might not hold her for long, but they don't need to. I immediately follow up with, "Avada Kedavra!"

Bellatrix is unable to dodge this time. The flash strikes her, and she goes still.

I find myself grinning wildly. I stand over Bellatrix's corpse, looking down at her. Such a thrill. She wasn't taken completely off-guard. I killed her in a fair fight. I beat her. I won. An incredible feeling.

"I hope you enjoyed that," says Tom Riddle. I look up to see him standing before the big double doors.

I laugh aloud. "Oh, yes. Yes, I did. Go ahead. Torture me. Kill me. It was all worth it."

"Crucio!" says Tom, clearly not needing any invitation.

I scream aloud and fall to my knees as pain rips through my body. He holds the spell for almost a minute, one minute of eternity in blind agony. But when the spell's effect fades, I'm laughing again.

"I am most displeased at you for slaying my loyal servants," Tom says. "Clearly, I did not take good enough precautions. I had not realized you were so easily gripped with bloodlust. But, I am never one to waste an opportunity. Serve me, and you will have all the slaughter you might crave."

I stop smiling at that. I feel like I've been hit with an iron maul. I glance down at Bellatrix's body again. I feel not a trace of remorse or pity for what I did to her. I feel sick. Absolutely terrified of myself. What kind of a monster am I becoming? What kind of monster am I?

I climb to my feet unsteadily. "I will not," I say. "Fight me."

"Very well," Tom says. "If that is how it is to be. If you wish to die fighting, then I will grant you your wish."

We drop into dueling stance, and begin to exchange spells. I don't actually want to kill him. I don't expect to win. It takes me a bit to get back into the combat mindset. I can't bring myself to actually cast any lethal spells against him.

"You're fighting clumsily," Tom says, holding up a hand and pausing the duel. "If I were actually trying to kill you yet, you would be dead already."

"Sorry, sir," I say quietly.

"You visited flawless death upon Bellatrix," Tom says. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid," I say.

"Of me?" Tom says.

"No," I reply. "Of me."

"Why are you afraid of yourself?" Tom asks.

"I don't want to be a monster," I say.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" Tom says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, sir," I say.

"Why do you think you're a monster?" Tom asks.

"Because I enjoyed killing," I say.

"And why is this something to be feared?" Tom presses.

I don't have an answer for that. "I don't know." They were bad people, who did bad things. They deserved to die. And yet, enjoying killing is supposed to be bad too, isn't it? My mind is very conflicted at the moment.

"Then set it aside," Tom says. "If you fear yourself and embrace weakness, then you will be weak, and you will be doomed to failure. Fear your enemy, fear me, fear the dark, fear death, but never, ever fear yourself."

I let his words sink in for a moment, and then give a nod. That makes sense. "Yes, sir."

"Now, are you ready to submit or die, Lexen Chelseer?" Tom asks.

"Let's fight," I say, dropping into dueling stance again.

"Very well," Tom says. "When you return to the past, I want you to tell me everything that happened here tonight again."

"Yes, sir," I say.

Tom gives a broad grin. "Because despite these small setbacks, I am quite pleased with you. Placeo."

I shiver as a brief wave of pleasure rushes through me. My eyes widen at him for a moment. And then the fight is on again. I chuckle softly, and have to smile. I find myself enjoying the thrill of battle again. Why should I let senseless fear take these pleasures away from me?

Then, one of Tom's curses strikes me full on, and I'm dead before I even realize it.

I wake in the darkness of my cell, alone. I failed to escape. I really should feel worse about that. But I'm still high on the rush of battle and the joy of killing.

As I lay back on my bedroll and that begins to fade, the despair and hopelessness begin to settle in again. I was such a fool. If I were intending to decide to join him, I should have done so then, when I would have the pleasure of having slain three of his mad Death Eaters behind me. But I came back again, having no intention of submitting. And the clear thought that I have no hope of escape. These thoughts haunt me as I slip away into a fitful sleep.

I wake some time later, and a murmured Tempus indicates that it is six in the morning. Around fifteen minutes later, Tom arrives, and waves Mipsy in with breakfast.

"Good morning," Tom says. "How was your night?"

"I..." I say, trying to think how to describe what happened last night in words, and failing at it. "Ah, fuck it. Do you have a Pensieve?"

"Why don't you just let down your Occlumency barriers for me for a moment?" Tom says.

I look at him uneasily. I can't come up with any good argument why not. That doesn't mean I'm not still extremely nervous about the prospect. "I'm not sure if I even can," I admit. "I keep them up so reflexively and I haven't let them down since I learned how to do it, years ago."

"Then, focus upon the memory you wish me to see, and try to put it outside of the barriers," Tom says.

I give a nod. "Alright." I think on my memories of last night, and push them to the surface, away from the protected eye of the storm.

"Look into my eyes," Tom says. "And focus upon that memory, and nothing else."

I stare into his eyes for several long moments, concentrating on the memory. On everything that happened, and all that was said and done.

Tom gives a nod. "Excellent. At ease. You have done well, Lexen. Placeo."

My skin tingles at the sudden pleasant rush through my body. "Thank you, sir," I murmur softly.

Why is he so happy with me? Because I did what he asked? It would have been impolite to refuse. And I had no reason to hide what happened between us last night. Still, it just makes me think, aren't I supposed to be fighting him?