Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 79

He could no longer allow Marvel to run free; for her sake, he would let Gabriel go...but Marvolo was another fight altogether, one that must be resolved indefinitely. 

Tom Riddle arrived at the Delacrioux Mansion, ready. Marvel had summoned him here for a meeting, not knowing that today would be his death day. 

As he arrived at the gate, he steadied himself. Today was the day, he told himself. He was fought so long, and worked so hard, all for this moment. He looks up at the magnificent iron gates of the Delacrioux Mansion and took a deep breath.

If all went as planned, in a few hours, this would all be his. 

Only a year ago, he was a guest here. Now, he will finally claim what has rightfully belonged to him all along.  

Everything ran through his head. The orphanage. His mother's death, Thomas Lind. 

The pain he has suffered has all built up to this moment, as he descended those marble steps. He remembered his mother's last words

"Live, my boy, and make them rue the day they ever hurt us."  

I'm here, mother. Now, you can finally rest in peace. I'm here.   

"Young master Tom." A House elf bowed, greeting him. Once upon a time, this house and this life had been a distant dream to him. But now, with all of it immediately at his fingertips, it all felt futile.  

Bittersweet melancholy rang in the hallowed halls of the Delacrioux Mansion. These gilded marble floors were destined to be flooded with blood. 

"My boy." Marvolo greeted as he saw Tom Riddle. He looked older, weaker, not like the fearsome conspirator he once was. Tom Riddle saw the grey in his hair and wondered if one day, he would see this same image in the mirror. The resemblance was striking. 

For a moment, his heart moved. As a child, how he had longed for a home. A father figure to look up to. Someone who would always watch out for him, always protect him, always shield him from the horrors of this world. But that person never existed. Tom Riddle, ultimately, is the product of the horrors of this world.  

Tom Riddle conjured the peice of paper from his pocket. 

"Sign it." He said curtly, his voice losing its usual tone of false respect. Marvolo raised his eyebrows. 

"Is something wrong?" the older man asked. 

Tom Riddle smiled that crooked smile of his, and turned his back to Marvolo. 

"Sign it, and I'll tell you what's wrong." He said quietly. Marvolo felt unease at the boy's tone. 

Marvolo took the parchment in his hand and read it over. "Ridiculous." He laughed. 

"My will, my properties, to you? You've overstepped yourself, Thomas. I always thought that you knew your place." 

"Oh, father, I know my place well." Tom Riddle replied. 

"This is outrageous, surely you understand."

Tom Riddle turned around and looked Marvolo dead in the eye. "Sign it. I won't repeat again." 

Marvolo scoffed, by couldn't but feel fear creeping into him. This boy's eyes held a darkness and a determination far beyond his years. 

"I have given you everything, Thomas. You were once a street urchin, surely you know. I can take it all away once again. You pledged yourself to me. Don't forget that." Marvolo warned. Tom Riddle sensed the fear radiating off him.