Dance to Death's Violins

Summary: Taste that rush of sweetness, the bitterest kind of chocolate, taste it and laugh. Take a silver knife and draw blood and laugh. Don't ask why she's laughing. Don't. Bellatrix centric.

She's the cruelcruelcrazy one and she'll always be laughing at a joke no one else can hear.


It's grimy sugar that's tainted with everything wrong.

(wrong, wrong, red and wrong)

Light and dance in it, because it can't be wrong when it feels this good.

She lets herself enjoy and relish it

oh sweet, sweet, sweet,


She's b/r\e|a/k|i\n/g them, the unworthy,

long whole limbs of flawless skin and one flick

she's fascinated.


She splits her old doll down the

cottony seams

(silly Bella's doll, the Bella who didn't

bleed out her heart)

so disappointing:

nothing came out.

She decides the time's come

to break some real people.


Skin pulls apart and

four droplets of blood,

the most beautiful shade of red,

because who needs a heart

or passion when you have this?


They kneel in pain,

on their knees because of her.

She keeps waiting for someone to give her a golden star.


She drinks wine once

and she never tastes it again

because it is nothing compared to:

man dead, wife weeping,

because why feel on top of the world

if she could destroy someone else's?


They say she's insane

but what's insanity really- really?

because she's happy

(to hurt them)

and maybe no one else is.


So she'll die laughing

and if they asked the joke


they'd never understand.