antebellum [t. riddle]

liii.

"grindelwald- he was displeased with me when he found out. told me he'd take sherridan away from me if i couldn't act civilized. so i sat there and i shut up and i did as he asked, and look at me now," he said, smiling. "watching a pretty little spy get more and more scared of me."

"is that what you think this is?" she asked incredulously. "you think that this is fear?"

sicaria felt sick. she didn't want to take out her pent up frustration on someone who didn't do any of the things she was personally angry about, but andonova was nowhere near innocent. she'd essentially be using him as a punching bag, but she had to keep reminding herself-

he deserves this.

"did you feel powerful, carlo? did you relish in the murders of a pregnant woman and two children not old enough to carry wands? tell the truth."

"i enjoyed it. i enjoy all my murders." his voice was alight with mirth underneath the numbing of the imperius curse. "i want to slit your throat and watch the life bleed out of your pretty little neck. are you going to kill me? you look far too nice to kill people, princess?"

"no, i'm not going to kill you-"

"oh i was certain-"

"i'm just going to hurt you, really, really bad. now, be still," she commanded, and his body went rigid. "relax."

his body went limp, but his eyes were alight. "i'll find you."

"you won't remember this," it was her turn to smile. "watch everything i do."

his eyes snapped to where her wand twirled in her hand. "i'm going to make you beg me to kill you, sweetheart, but i won't. witches like you deserve to be savored."

she met his eyes dead on. "scream if it hurts. writhe. beg for me to stop."

she had to think. anything that broke the skin would leave a scar, so she had to stick to injuries that would be painful, but would not be visible. pinprick injuries and nonmagic bruises. she could shatter his kneecaps and as long as it remained a closed fracture. she could do anything nonmagical to him; she just couldn't make him bleed.

"what would you do if you were me?" she asked. "how would you torture someone?"

"the cruciatus is simple and effective. cast it enough times and it gets easier and easier. give me my wand and i'll show you, sweetheart."

crucio was on the tip of her tongue, but she could be far more creative than that. plus, that would have been her second unforgivable of the night, and using them in such rapid succession would harm her soul.

she sighed. "no," she said defeated. she tied his hands behind his back. "we'll have to do this the muggle way."

so she did other things, and she enjoyed the sound of his screams.

nothing permanent, she reminded herself, but the sound of his voice so delightfully recounting the murders of two children and a pregnant woman were hard to ignore.

sicaria was no stranger to brutality, and she found it easier to defend when her motive was morally sound as well as not leaving anything behind. 

she left his body passed out on the bathroom floor where she left under a sleeping jinx that would wear off in an hour. there was no evidence that he had been beaten, nor that she was ever even there. he'd be in pain with every step he took, but try as he might, he'd never find a source.

when she woke up, she felt sick by what she had done.

or rather, she thought she was supposed to feel sick.