Catharsis [Tom Riddle]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

TRIGGER WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTION OF TORTURE

 He wanted him dead.

He wanted to kill him.

Tom wanted to rip Lestrange's heart out with his own bare hands.

The heir laid on the ground, his empty laughter bellowing through the air as blood dripped down from his broken nose. His fucking laughter... His goddamn fucking laughter...

"Crucio," Tom hissed.

Screams filled the room.

In his anger, he had forgotten to put a silencing charm on the dorm.

Fuck.

Reluctantly, he broke the Cruciatus Curse almost as quickly as he cast it and took a second to make sure that nobody would be able to hear the sounds coming from the room.

Silence.

Bloody fucking silence.

Lestrange forced out a choked breath, writhing on the floor as the effects of the short-lived curse reverberated through his body. The sound of his gasps angered Tom. The pathetic sight of him on the floor angered Tom. The image of him hovered over Hendrix...

That made Tom furious.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" Lestrange shouted, his eyes glaring daggers at Tom. His words were slurred and his eyes were still hazy from the copious amount of alcohol still lingering in his system.

Tom bent down so he was eye-level with the boy.

Brown versus green.

Fury versus indignation.

"Be grateful it wasn't the Killing Curse," Tom snarled.

Lestrange rolled his eyes, shaking his head and spitting out a mouthful of red onto the floor. "Was finally getting somewhere with her and you had to come and ruin all my bloody fun. And on my birthday, no less."

Breathe.

Breathe.

Just fucking breathe.

Tom's hands had balled into tight fists around his wand. His jaw was clenched so hard that the veins on his neck were becoming more and more prominent. He felt like an intruder in his own body-- as if it belonged to an animal. A bloodthirsty animal.

"Why do you even care?" Lestrange asked, propping himself up with his arms as he slightly lifted himself from the ground. "I'll still get you your damn information. No harm done-- I was going to obliviate her anyway."

It was like someone flipped a switch.

Instantly... Tom lost control.

His vision flashed red. So did his eyes.

He grabbed an empty bottle of firewhiskey and smashed it against the post of Xavier's bed. It broke just below the neck and before Lestrange could even process what was happening, Tom plunged the piercing shards into the boy's chest, right next to his heart.

Lestrange fell back onto the floor with a thud, his emerald eyes flashing with horror as his fingers darted to the sharp glass embedded into his flesh.

"Take it out and you'll bleed to death," Tom growled. "Move and it'll tear your heart."

Short, shallow breaths left Lestrange's mouth as he laid on the ground, his dark shirt torn to reveal his flesh seeping crimson. Tom bent down, grabbing the boy's wand out of his reach and snapping it in half, throwing both halves across the room in a fit of rage. Nearby, he spotted Hendrix's wand.