Alone in the Dark
A Dark room…almost a cave, "Avada Kedavra" it was so easy to say those words. "Avada Kedavra" so easy to let the hate pour out in the green strike, like lightning
The words that meant die, the words that could send fear through so many "Avada Kedavra"
"Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra, Avada Kedavra" there were voices chanting, mimicking his voice.
"They are dead, and we all know why now" the accusing eyes seemed to say "They are dead and you cannot hide anymore."
"You killed me," the voice echoed across the emptiness
"You killed me," a different voice this time
"You killed me"
"And me," the voices went on and on
Then a shout of anger, "You killed us, you killed us all. It is your fault!"
"No," he gasped trying to breath the thick air "No I didn't want…I didn't want it to come to this…not…"
"It did" the voices shouted to the stars, "You killed us, every last one"
A scream of pain, one so familiar to him, the scream of a victim, the scream that gave him his power. These screams, that were so addicting, so seducing, that he had no chance.
Red eyes burned into green "Do you agree to obey me without question?" the man hissed
"Yes I do Master," his own voice, bloodthirsty, and full of anger with those who were once held dear, "Yes…I do"
"Very good" a cackle in the dark.
"YOU KILLED US, AND BETRAYED THE WORLD" a thousand voices all calling out in pain a suffering and then suddenly silenced.
A darker voice, an inner voice, his own voice, it was him. The shock of this concept hit him and rolled off. It was himself, his own self who had done these things, enjoyed them, and laughed at his friend's pain.
"You were going to kill him…kill your Master, save them all."
"But it's so addicting, the power, the dark" his inner voices argued "It doesn't matter anyway, they are dead, so many people are dead, you'll never get accepted back now"
"But did we want back, was that our goal to fit in? We let him change us, manipulate us, we are no longer who we used to be"
"We?" he questioned the voices "We? No…I am the only one here, I am the one who made the choices"
The voices left, his made up voices left, left him alone in the dark, alone to his thoughts and pain, alone to the harsh reality.
Harry Potter woke up in a cold sweat, the dream was so fresh, so imprinted on his soul that he doubted forgetting would be an option.
A/N: That was a one shot, one that I started months ago, found, and finished today.