Dark Lady

Chapter 2: The Child of Darkness

Dark shadows whisper to me

Of tortures long passed in these walls

Dying humans of which I cannot see

Pain echoes through the halls

I fall asleep to my own screams

Wrapped in my own blood

No respite waits in my dreams

Drowning in the cold flood

Darkness is all that remains

Lies hum my lullabies

My resistance wanes

And my soul dies

- Yelene-ryudream

My cold, ice-blue eyes stared vacantly at the stone floor as I walked through the long, deserted hallways of the Dark Lord's fortress. Screams of torment surrounded me, seeping through the walls. My long, silk black dress robes lined in silver swayed around me and caressed the ground.

Soon I came to a pair of huge onyx doors guarded by two tall figures in floor-length black robes and white masks.

"Move aside," I commanded emotionlessly. 'Oh how I tire of the monotony of life in a castle built of shadows where time means nothing.'

"Yes, my Lady," they intoned respectfully. They bowed deeply, if not hesitantly, to my eight-year-old self, before opening the doors to allow me to pass. They still despise the fact that they must grovel to a child. Even if that child is their Master's favorite.

I passed into a large room done completely in black and green marble. Stone snakes lovingly embraced the black marble columns, and their sparkling ruby eyes tricked fools into believing they could see into the very soul. However elegant it may appear, the room seeps with Dark Magic and evil deeds. On the surface, the beauty of the room is unparalleled, but beneath, it is nothing more than the Devil's Dungeon hidden behind a lovely mask. Yes, it truly is the domain of a Demon.

Such little light existed in this room, which pure untainted darkness even now longs to extinguish. I could almost fool myself into believing that my near-transparent, pale skin gave off the light that kept me from stumbling in the darkness. After all, how many times had the Dark Lord or one of his wretched minions commented that my alabaster skin almost seemed to glow? I could feel a pair of red eyes watching me intently from the shadows of a large silver throne.

Calmly, I walked down the dark green carpet until I was just before the throne. Gracefully falling to my knees, I bowed my head under the scrutiny of the blood-red eyes.

"Massster," I hissed softly in the language of the snakes.

"Ah, apprenticcce," he replies sibilantly. "Have you completed your missssion?"

"Yesss, my Lord," I answered indifferently, holding forth a cloth-wrapped, silver medallion with a center jewel that swirled with clouds of many shades of color to my serpentine master. The item disappeared from my hands and reappeared before the throne. I can only guess that the Dark Lord examined it with his usual greedy and power-hungry expression.

The Nundu Medallion is an incredibly powerful magical item. Made from the very life of a Nundu beast, the Medallion possesses the ability to spread a quick and intensively painful virulent death to any in the area of which the wearer released the power, while the wearer remained protected from the same fate. With the power of the Medallion and the magnifying spells engraved within the piece, its wearer could destroy an entire village and everything within 500 kilometer radius around it. Only one was ever created and it was hidden away for hundreds of years from evil hands that longed for it. The Dark Lord discovered its hiding place and longed to possess such a powerful instrument of destruction; thus, I was sent to retrieve it and deliver it safely to my master.

"Very good, my Dark Lady," he said with a pleased hiss. I sensed rather than heard my evil master rise from the throne and approach me. I subconsciously felt the need to shudder at his approaching evil presence, but I suppressed it. It would only cause more pain if the Dark Lord saw a weakness in me.

I felt cold, rough hands firmly but not painfully lift my chin, so that I was staring into the face of the Dark Lord. I saw the deep black hair entwined with a few strands of gray frame his pale white face. But any human appearances in his face that he retained stopped there. Serpentine features dominated the visage of a once incredibly handsome man. His skin more resembled scales and his nose was barely more than slits in his face. Red, snake-like eyes peered intensely into my ice-blue ones. I did not look away.

For a time, we continued this staring contest. As always, he wished to see what I kept hidden inside my heart and soul, and I did my best to enforce my shields without increasing them. He would feel if I began to build up my protective walls and then he would use his tremendous power to force them to crumble. I would not be able to stand the full assault of all his latent power.

I did not bother to protect my mind; it would do no good. Even as I became incredibly skilled at occlumency, able to throw off the best attempts of the most talented death eaters and even the Dark Lord himself in a frontal legillimens attack, he always seemed to worm his way into my mind through all of my strongest mental barriers. Therefore, my most secretive parts I locked away deep within my heart and soul, a place not even he could reach no matter how hard he tried. Still, he continued to claw his way through my very being to find the secrets I kept from him.

Releasing stray thoughts, here and there, I satisfied him to the point that he ended his probing and freed me from his forceful inquiry. I forfeited enough for him to see my excellent capture of the Death Eater traitor and Voldemort's Inner Circle of cronies's thorough annihilation of the traitor of the Dark Lord. The foolish man had tried to steal the Medallion before I could give it to the Dark Lord. He had tried to stop my master from gaining that great and terrible power. However he had been spotted by the other Death Eaters. Had those idiotic Death Eaters not been with me, then I would have aided the poor, cowardly man in escaping with the Medallion. As it were, they had been, and I was never given enough of a chance to allow the fool to escape without raising suspicion. With a firm squeeze, the Dark Lord released my chin and returned to his throne. Has he grown suspicious?

"Rissse, apprenticcce," my master commanded, so I rose to my feet, keeping my eyes directed to the ground. "Why it took you ssso long to capture that incompetent fool, I cannot comprehend. According to the other tutorsss, you have ssshown only great ssskill in your ssstudiesss. Need I increassse the frequencccy of our lessssonsss together, Kirra?" my master asked in false disappointment and anger, of course he could not say that my capture was a brilliant one. That would be far too much praise for such a weak being as myself, and my pride might become a threat to my master's control.

At times like these, my behavior truly confused me. My master had been nothing but kind to me, or at least as kind as the Dark Lord can ever be. He took me in when my so-called parents left me all alone, cold and starving in the middle of a forest to die when I was just a baby. He saved me and gave me a life better than what I could expect on my own. I owed my master my life. Why then was my loyalty to him so wavering? Why I felt the need to hide things from my master or to help those that could cause my master harm, I do not know. I was being selfish and foolish. My master is no fool, and eventually he will realize that I have been withholding information from him. I dread that day. Nothing in all the nine levels of Hell will be able to match the fury of the Dark Lord when he discovers my insolence. For what reason do I disobey my beloved master?

"I apologizze, my massster, for my inadequacccy. Tell me what you wisssh of me, and I will obey," I replied in humble and reverent indifference. The Dark Lord hissed calmly, withholding judgment. I released a silent sigh of relief. Suddenly, I sensed the sensation of his icy hand against my right cheek, but I could plainly see his boots and the hem of his robes against the throne. He was touching me with his magic.

"It isss ussselessss to attempt to hide anything from me, Kirra," the Dark Lord hissed warningly. "I will alwaysss find out what liesss within."

Despite my best efforts, I began to shake. I had been careless. I had let a flicker of my feelings pass through the boundaries in which I had locked them. Now my master's suspicions had been confirmed. And I? I would pay dearly for my mistake. His icy magic was surrounding me, sending burning pierces of pain through my body.

"You did not want to capture the traitor, did you?" he asked harshly and a particularly painful jolt shot through my system. I repress the urge to cry out from the intense pain. "You did not want the man to be killed. You felt pity for him, didn't you, apprenticcce?" The pain became more intense and I could not halt the tears from streaming over my cheeks. My body burned and ached and blistered as if I were being burned alive and frozen at the same time.

"Haven't I always told you that feelings are a weakness?!" my master's voice grew in volume and as it did, so did the pain, so much so that I longed for death. It was not the first time that I longed for the release of death or the blissful unawareness of insanity, but each time I was denied. My cruel and loving master would push me just about too far and then, just as I was almost free, he would pull me back with chains of sugared words and promised pleasures that only turned to poisonous snakes and excruciating pain.

"Why do you resist me, Kirra? After everything I've done for you?" Why do I resist him? I felt his cold hands painfully gripping my wrists, and this time, it was not an illusion, although it was hard to be certain through the haze of pain that permeated my consciousness. His touch sent new lightning strikes of torture through my body, latching to my nerves and burning me from the inside out. The coldness of his presence tore into my heart. The most frightening part is that, in his touch, the pain sometimes turned into excruciatingly terrifying pleasure. His greatest torment was blurring the lines between pleasure and pain. I do not know when I began to bleed during this excruciatingly slow and agonizing torture, as he preyed on both my mind and body, but when, he released my wrists, I fell to the floor and met warm stickiness rather than cold stone. My black hair turned a clumpy deep red and I tasted the copper-tanginess in my mouth.

Screaming...someone's screaming. I recognize the voice, but...who?...what is the name? Wait! It's me! I...I am the one screaming. It's my voice that's splitting the heavens. But when did I start screaming? How much time has passed? I believe that he was now using actual curses on me, most likely unforgivables, but it was hard to tell. I kept drifting in and out. The only thing that remained the same was the pain. This is the price of defiance in the Dark Lord's court. He expects absolute obedience and acquiescence, even if it is by fear. And he always gets it eventually. The value he held on my life was the only thing that stopped him from killing me or sending me to that long-desired oblivion.

Finally the pain stopped, or perhaps I had just been driven past the point of feeling anything. Yes, I can sense sweet insanity growing closer. I see it before me. It is a high wall that I am too weak to climb. But wait! There is a crack...and...yes! It's getting bigger! It is big enough for me. I crawl towards that crack, crawl towards the bittersweet surrender of this life.

NO! Iron chains have locked around my wrists and ankles. I cannot move!

Your chains are mine! You belong to me! And, no, my sweet, I will not let you go that easily. Once more, the Dark Lord had staked his claim on my soul. He will not release me. I will never be free!

I think that I have reached my limit. The pain is just too much. Too much of my blood has left my body to stain the floors in gorgeous crimson. The last thing I see as darkness clouds in from the edges of my vision is the Dark Lord's ghostly serpent face and his eyes - so much like the blood beneath me - gleaming evilly. Those wicked demon eyes look on me in malicious satisfaction. He knows my soul is breaking.

"You cannot resist me forever. Soon, my dark lady, you will be mine. Body, heart, mind, and soul. You will be my victory. By you, I will soon have the world within my hand, my sweet destroyer." These cruelly seductive words echo within my ear and mind as my vision vanishes.

At last darkness has blocked out everything else and I willingly drift away to whatever fate lies before me with one last thought within my mind:

How long until I will finally give in?