The End of Everything

The Beginning of the End.

Drip, drip, drip. The constant backdrop to all of my musings. It is the only sound that speaks to the face behind the mask. It's funny how something so simple, something so unconnected to myself, so unimportant can bring my entire life into harsh perspective. Those droplets of water just continue on dripping, unaffected by the events passing inside these cruel stonewalls. I wish I could say the same thing about myself, but the happenings of this place affect me more greatly than those around me could imagine, and I begin to wonder if all this is worth the price I paid for it. I can no longer sleep because doubts creep into my mind, eating away at my consciousness. The drips become louder, closer, until they are all that I can hear.

Well the drips, and the screaming.

All the screaming; it goes on for hours, and burns the guilt a little further into my soul, until I finally start to feel it. That is when my thoughts begin to wander. Memories resurface; reminding me of all the people I have betrayed to get here. Schoolmates, whom I betrayed for fun, peers, whom I betrayed for money, family, whom I betrayed to prove my loyalty, friends whom I betrayed in exchange for my life, and their children whom I betrayed in exchange for power. I'm an oath-breaker, a liar, and a murderer. I'm a big, fat fucking coward.

And what was all the betrayal for? All the lying, and the cheating, the stealing, and the greed? In return I live out the rest of my days guarding a bleak, disgusting cell made of ill-shaped stone blocks, full Mudbloods and traitors, so I can eventually drag them kicking and screaming to their doom. Underneath my mask, inside my stony face, I sob for them. I cry tears that burn for each and every one of their terrible screams. I watch them with morbid curiosity as they beat themselves half to death trying to escape their prison. Don't they know it's only a matter of time? Don't they comprehend that no one escapes He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Not even his followers.

Don't they understand that we're all doomed?

Indeed, it is too late now, when I finally see that none of us will ever truly escape our prisons. Theirs, the prison of their blood, and mine, the prison of my choices. But, unlike them, I built my own prison, stacking the bricks higher and higher around myself, and reinforcing the bars with each choice that I made. None of his followers are told, when they set out on their individual journeys for power, just how far they will be made to go, or just how much they will be forced to pay for it.

And now I'm here. I'm sitting astride that illustrious pinnacle that I'd always wanted to reach. Only, once you're here you start to notice that the climb wasn't as steep as it seemed when you started out. You notice that the deeds aren't as noble, the cause isn't as pure, and most of all, the rewards aren't as great. My price for a meagre scrap of power was betraying those I loved, to give my love to the one who will betray me.

Lord Voldemort.

The time has come. With a heavy heart I push open the door to the Mudblood prison, and wrench a young girl onto her feet. She cries and screams, full-throated and primal. She swears, and struggles, and she asks the question that raises a lump in my throat. Why me? Indeed, why her? I know why I'm here. My circumstances are a product of my own stupidity, my own cowardice, and a combination of both terror and insufferable pride that makes me unable to walk away from what I have started. Those hot, heavy tears begin to plague me again, and all of a sudden there we are. Standing at the door to this girl's doom.

The doors open with a loud creaking noise. There, atop a magnificent, blood red throne sits my Lord. His snake-like eyes sweep the room, sending a chill down my spine as he regards his victim and myself with the same ice cold glare of calculating malice. It is unsettling when you suddenly realise that you mean nothing to the one you serve. I throw the girl at his feet, and a horrifying grin breaks his face. For the first time in a long time I'm happy that I'm wearing this mask, simply because it hides the traces of my soundless sobbing.

I sob because when all of them are gone, it won't be long before I become the prey.

My master dismisses me, and as the door creaks to a close behind me, I hear the screaming begin. My body begins to shake uncontrollably, and I'm more terrified at this moment than I've ever been. I'm useful to him now, saving him the effort of picking his next Mudblood victim. But he has seen me falter. He has seen inside my mind, and he knows that my thoughts have strayed from loyalty. I should run far away and hope that I'm never found, but I don't even have the courage to desert. Instead I slump against the cold stonewalls and count each droplet of water that hits the floor, wondering how many more of them will fall before I'm the one screaming.

Drip, drip, drip.