This is my response to day 14 of Siriusly Smart's iPod challenge, and also the "Daily Prompt from the Mods" for July 3rd, which was 'singing'.


"You let me violate you,

You let me desecrate you,

You let me penetrate you,

You let me complicate you,"

-Nine Inch Nails, 'Closer'

It was total bliss, using Bellatrix Lestrange to fulfil every last one of his needs. Watching the manic delight in her dark eyes as she tortured, maimed and killed for him reminded Lord Voldemort exactly why it was that he continued down the path of purity and darkness. Listening to her joyous shrieks as the last scraps of humanity blasted through the tip of her wand caused him to contemplate why persecuting the inferior felt... right, if not good.

He had warped her, made Bellatrix a reflection of his own depravity.

Bellatrix was evil.

Almost as evil as he was.

And it made her almost perfect, in his eyes.

The perfect pleasure.

Lord Voldemort valued her above others – she was his instrument, one of his greatest delights – and yet he gloried in the sadistic, masochistic rush that accompanied causing her pain. Whether she writhed beneath him in agony or ecstasy, it was all the same to Lord Voldemort. Bellatrix's mouth would twist in an animalistic snarl either way, her hands clawing the air as she trembled.

He did not believe in love; it was a ridiculous concept that the weak would always cling to. Nor did Lord Voldemort care for Bellatrix, as such, but seeing her so alive reminded him why it was that he feared the endless void that was death, where no such energy flowed.

His blood would always be singing as he watched her, both predator and prey.


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