Chapter 88 - Madness

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I remember that I was locked in the dungeons of the Manor for some time. I don't really remember how many days they had me locked in there. Maybe it was a month, maybe it was less, maybe it was more (I am leaning towards more). Voldemort gave instructions to Bellatrix Lestrange to torture me daily.

My days were confusing. Bellatrix would come every morning in the dungeons.

"Come, my Lady," she'd say after a bow. Then she would kick me to stand up. She would lead me to the living room and there a team of Death Eaters would be waiting. The Death Eaters would all bow to me and they would call me 'Dark Lady'. Then they would take turns torturing me.

I can't remember much of these painful hours. I either was blacked out during most of it or forgotten all about it. I was thankful for that. My memories would come back when the torturing stopped. Through the windows, I would see the moon and the dark sky. I was sure I was tortured all day. I would never be able to stand after that. Someone would drag me back to the dungeons to leave me half-dead on the cold floor.

I'm sure I was tortured in many ways. Of course, I had been cursed but apart from that, I had many scars and bruises on me.

I was given food only once a day and it was just a slice of bread and a glass of water. In the night, I had to sleep on the cold and wet floor having only what I was wearing to cover myself. At some point I remained with a long shirt; I guessed someone had taken my jeans and pants off to make a scar on my legs and forgot to put them back on to me. I didn't remember the incidence and it was for the best.

It was still winter, I knew; from a small window, I would watch the snow falling. Guess it was mid-February, so I was barefoot and freezing.

I lost count of days.

Every once in a while, Voldemort would come to visit.

"Look, how your daughter ended up," he would say to himself, shaking his head, watching me motionless, lying on the floor with my feet bare. My hands were blue because of the cold.

"Are you willing to consider me as your father, already?" he asked.

I didn't have the strength to answer or think of what my answer would be if I was able to speak.

Voldemort took his cloak and covered my almost naked, now, body. I found whatever strength I had to push it away from me.

And so he would leave and the torture would continue. I don't know for how long. The days became shorter and the nights grew longer, and so did the torturing. I spent hours and hours not even moving, not even thinking. Everything was so painful. Breathing was painful. The pain was not only in my body. It was also inside my mind. Like a voice was inside my head all the time, screaming and shouting, never leaving me alone. This wasn't a headache. This was not even close.

Of all the people that were torturing me, Bellatrix was the worst. I knew when she would stop torturing me because I could feel my throat sorer than ever like I have been screaming for a long period of time. I'd realise my mouth was slowly closing like it was open while screaming.

"I start thinking you actually like being tortured, my Lady. Otherwise, why would you last that long, huh?"

One day Bellatrix leaned over my lying body and took out her knife.

The scars were the most painful. Because I could really remember when they're done and I could really feel them being done. I could really hear myself screaming at the top of my lungs, so much and so high that I thought the windows could break.

I felt the blade of her knife sinking into my forearm. I tried to move away from her but she had stuck me down and didn't let me move. At some point, she just couldn't hear my shouts any more so she tried shutting my mouth with her hand. But I was still screaming and struggling.

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