Bring Me To Life
Harry had finished his chores, he was finally done for the day. The only downside was that he'd have to sleep soon. His green eyes swiveled to the digital clock sitting on his nightstand, he groaned. It was already one, if he stayed up much later he would get hardly any sleep and he'd have to work on that little sleep.
He had hardly gotten sleep at all in the past two weeks, he hadn't gotten one visit from Voldemort, which he was thankful for. But his dreams had remained the same, though they were less and less frequent for some reason, not that he minded at all.
But he knew that because they were getting to be less and less that the next ones would be the worst he had. They had to be, it was only logical, right? He almost physically shuddered at the thought, he hated to sleep now.
If he went to sleep now, he'd dream, he'd be killed. Or worse. Voldemort would be there. He'd be there to do those things…Again. And Harry didn't think that he'd be in good mental health if that happened.
So he refused sleep.
It was only what he thought to be twenty minutes later when it became too much, the silence, the darkness and boredom set it. And he was fast asleep.
Harry's eyes snapped open though when he heard it, the twisting of his door knob, Harry moved in his bed, now wide awake. He pushed himself back until he reached his head board, he closed his eyes when the twisting became louder.
And then it stopped.
Harry didn't dare to open his eyes though, he kept them shut, waiting. The banging would start soon. But when it didn't Harry forced himself to open his eyes. Maybe Vernon wasn't coming tonight? And then the handle moved, and with a creek the door opened.
He couldn't close his eyes know, it seemed an almost impossible task. He looked in the shadows, but his Uncle wouldn't come into his room. It was like he knew this would torture Harry, frighten him. He was right.
Harry could hear his blood pumping loudly, it was like a pounding heartbeat in his ears. His eyes began to water from the small breeze coming in through his open window, since he refused to blink. He couldn't force himself to, no matter how much he wanted to. He didn't want to see the man who was going to kill him, but he would.
Harry audibly gasped as the dead body of his Uncle fell to the floor, what in the world was going on? Harry felt his eyes blink and the pain in his eyes subsided, he crawled to the end of his bed and almost fell back on his butt when a man appeared in front of him as if from nowhere.
He was cloaked and tall, his long and sturdy arm reached out and he pulled Harry out of his bed, Harry tried to struggle against the mans grip, but to no avail he was far too small. The broad chest he was pressed against left Harry hardly any room to move at all, the man was practically crushing Harry in his grip.
"Who are you?" Harry said, more than clearly shaking in this mans arms. When he didn't reply Harry hissed and struggled to move away from him, but it was no use, he was trapped.
"We're leaving," the man's voice was oddly familiar, but Harry couldn't place it and he didn't try hard as they began to move out of the room, the entire way Harry's feet were dragging on the carpet. But he stopped and almost lifted his feet when he saw his Uncle on the floor at the bedroom's entrance.
Something was off though, something was so wrong. Harry's entire being felt like it was being crushed, and not just by this man's grip anymore. This wasn't a dream. The detail was far more accurate, and the blood seeping into the carpet was much more real. Harry felt chills run over his skin, and very real and terrifying horror overwhelm him.
His hands pushed hard against the man, and caught slightly off guard by the sudden resistance Harry was able to get enough space between their bodies that he slipped out of the man's hold. He ran out the door and he got as far as the top of the steps when the man grabbed onto his wrist, Harry yanked and lost his balance, so that he fell down the stairs.
He screamed trying to get someone to come to his aid, but when no one came and he'd reached the bottom of the stairs he looked up in time to see the hooded figure reach where he huddled at the bottom of the steps and stretch out his arms to pick him up.
Harry screamed again and jabbed his fist up hitting the man in the face and forcing his feet to hit the last step and he fell back with a shout. Harry scrambled to his feet, only to fall on his face as the man's strong hand wrapped around his ankle.
There was even more struggle when the man moved quickly enough to force Harry on his back and pin him. Harry couldn't move his hands, and in his panic he didn't even think to kick, "Let me go!" Harry screamed, the man jerked as Harry bucked against him, and the hood covering his face fell.
Harry's eyes went wide, and he froze at what he saw. It was Voldemort, but not a Voldemort he'd ever seen before. He looked like Tom Riddle, only older. Yet his face seemed warped, his nose was reforming, it pushing through the flat surface of the man's face to slowly become a real nose again. And his eyes were practically lid-less as they grew back out and into a regular shape once again.
His cheeks were hollow and the bone missing was once again growing back in place. His lips, at them Harry felt a turn in his stomach, they were scabbed and bleeding in small places as they grew back and his mouth was stretched to form around a full set of new teeth.
His jaw had totally reformed, and he now had a chin, but not one that was at all in proportion with the rest of his face, giving off a grotesque look. The sallow and sickly skin of his face was stretched taunt over the bones in his face. The bone re-growth must've been faster than his skin could take all at one.
Harry felt sick, he was so grotesque and deformed it was far worse than the face he'd been given at his "rebirth" during the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
"Isn't it revolting, Harry?" the man hissed angrily as he leaned in closer to Harry to rub the side of his face against the once again struggling boy's.
"Leave me alone!" Harry shouted in terror, as the man's tongue slipped out of his mouth to leave a wet trail on the side of Harry's face.
"Look what you're blood is doing to me, Harry. Look!" he shouted making Harry's ear ring, as he lifted and once again slammed the boy against the floor, letting Harry's head bounce of the hard carpet. His grip on Harry's wrist was hard enough that Harry knew he would bruise, the man's angry and terrifying face came back into Harry's view. Harry finally through black spots in his vision, noticed the man's eyes. They looked human, except for the blood-tinted hue to them. They were intoxicatingly hideous as they weren't just the iris that were red, the red seeped like blood, throughout the entire eye and only some white was visible through it.
Harry couldn't take it anymore, he didn't want to look at this…this thing anymore, he couldn't stand it. His knee jerked up and he felt it connect with Voldemort's groin, the man jerked and let Harry lose and it was just enough to where Harry could push against his chest once again and run.
Harry didn't even look back as he ran down the hallway past his old cupboard and into the kitchen, he looked back for a moment to see if he'd been followed when he suddenly hit something and once again face planted. Only this time as he fell he hit tiles, and with the force of it he felt something in his nose crunch and blood splatter on his face and onto the floor.
He cursed and looked to see what he'd tripped over when he saw the body of his dead cousin lying with chocolate cake thrown all about his dead and bleeding body. He'd gone for a late night snack, like he always did because of his diet, and he'd been killed for it. Harry felt a thrill of fresh fear and horror sweep through him, and he forced himself up, so that now his back was pressed against the wall behind him. With wide eyes he took in the corpse of his dead cousin.
"He screamed the loudest," Harry's head snapped up and he saw Voldemort standing at the open door, Harry shook his head and forced himself to stand up once again. He reached for the door handle when Voldemort called his name.
"But you haven't seen my finest work, Harry. Do you really want to leave now?" Harry didn't move, all he wanted was to leave.
"Your poor Aunt needs your help, Harry," Harry's hand stilled on the door handle. He felt his eyes sting, but he blinked away any tears that tried to leave him. He turned and gave Voldemort his best glare.
"You're lying, my Aunt isn't home, she went to visit-"
"She came home early, I made sure of it. Come, Harry, come see your Aunt Petunia. She's a truly lovely sight," Harry felt his head shake once again. Voldemort was lying. He had to be.
Voldemort took a few steps, but not toward Harry, and he moved into the living room not even bothering to watch Harry.
He couldn't help himself. What if she was here? What if Voldemort was torturing her, and he just walked out leaving her to die? He would never be able to live with himself. Harry moved to the counter and he snatched up a few knives, slipping two into his back pocket and holding onto one other more dangerous one, he didn't even notice the missing ones.
He moved slowly, still apprehensive, to where Voldemort stood at the living room entrance.
He dropped the knife in his hand at the sight before him.
He ran to his Aunt, as he called her name, but she didn't reply. Her head hung limply against her shoulder, her hands were pinned to the wall with her finest cooking knives while her feet were pinned with some of the larger and longer ones onto the newly installed hardwood floor that she loved so much.
"What did you do?!" Harry screamed, though he didn't even bother to look at the man as he reached up to grip the handle of one of the knives. Petunia screamed as he moved it.
"Stop!" Harry let go of the knife as if he'd been burned and he looked at her face, it was covered in the spatter of her own blood and it had dried tear tracks with running mascara all over it.
"But I need to get you lose," she shook her head, but Harry ignored her. He moved to the floor and whispered a 'Sorry,' as he yanked the one from her foot without thought or much hesitation, he had to or he wouldn't be able to do this. He may not have liked this woman very much, but the fresh blood pooling on the floor was mostly the same blood running through his veins, they were family and he couldn't let this happen to her. He had to save her.
He did the same to the other foot ignoring her screams, and cries for him to stop. He couldn't let her die like this, he had to help her.
"It's no use, Harry, she's going to die," Harry shook his head at the man's laughing tone and he continued with his work.
Voldemort began to laugh, and Harry screamed at him to be quiet as he moved to stop his Aunts struggling, he needed to free her hands now.
"Stop! Stop, you're hurting me!" She screamed as fresh tears coursed down her face. Harry didn't notice the tears falling down his face as he tried to still her.
"I've got to save you!" Harry insisted as he lifted fingers that on the count of three pulled the knife from her right hand. She screamed and went limp against the wall letting the other knife cut further up her hand. Harry cursed and as he yanked the final knife out and she fell onto him, he held her as best he could but he was far too small. He immediately turned to move her to the couch.
"Oh brave, brave, Harry. Congratulations," Voldemort mocked, as Harry struggled to move with his Aunt in his arms, "This must just hurt," a tight and cruel smile stretched over Voldemort's face, he lifted a wand and pointed it at Harry's Aunt.
"Let's spare her any further pain, shall we? It is what you want, Harry. We must save her, Harry," Harry screamed at the monster to be quiet, to stop using his name, it was making him sick. But he couldn't deny that he wanted to help his Aunt, just not in the way that Voldemort wanted.
"Don't you touch her!" he shouted.
"Harry…I'm sorry," his Aunt said hardly above a whisper as she continued to lean heavily against her nephew going in and out of consciousness now. Harry felt his heart constrict in pain at her words, she was in so much pain.
"Don't worry, Harry, I won't," he didn't even bother to speak the curse, a bright green light shot out of the end of an oddly familiar looking wand and hit his Aunt in her back. Harry screamed as her body jerked in his grip, he lost his hold on her and she fell to the floor in a dead heap.
Harry didn't bother to watch her hit the ground, he just ran at Voldemort, with the newly drawn knife in hand. He tackled the man to the ground and lifted the knife just above Voldemort's heart.
Harry's hand stilled when he saw the wand pointed at his neck. It wasn't Voldemort's wand, but his own. He grit his teeth and momentarily closed his eyes. Voldemort had killed his Aunt, and probably the rest of his family with his own wand. Harry pressed the knife further into Voldemort, and it broke robes, it was now pressing against skin.
"You bastard," Harry hissed.
"Strong words for such a weak boy," Voldemort said with laughter clear in his voice, and it was the last thing Harry heard before his body jerked backwards and all he saw was black.
A/N: I haven't uploaded a new chapter in a long time, so I decided that since I was updating all my other stories that I would do a chapter for this one too. I hope everyone liked it. Thank the Saw movies for the ick-factor in his chapter. Well really all of them have been quite nasty, haven't they? So never mind.
I hope you decide to review!