~*The Monster Within*~

written by: Cisselah

In the old age black was not counted fair,

Or if it were, it bore not beauty's name;

But now is black beauty's successive heir,

And beauty slandered with a bastard shame

by: William Shakespear, The Dark Lady Sonnet 127

Darkness swallows her once more. She screams out her pain as her memories rise to the surface, ripped from the depth of her consciousness by a force so great it consumes her. She thinks of her father's bitterness, her cousins' smug smiles and her own mothers crying that keeps them up all night.

"Leave! Leave me alone!" She shrieks, desperate to make those unwanted memories, her deepest secrets, go away before they drive her mad. Far, far away people are crying and screaming and she finds it more disgusting than anything else.

Coldness seems into her cell, frost biting her fingers and face. They are coming closer, despite her pleads and threats. They don't care about her, only the dreadful memories and painful insecurities that lies beneath her though skin. She wants to cry, but that is the actions of a baby. And "No Black ever shows weakness in front of others" says her father. She looks up at him with tearstained cheeks and his eyes are hard and cold. His disgust is what's hurting her more then his stiff words. She doesn't want him to be disappointed in her. She doesn't want to be a failure. She never wants to be a failure. "Go and clean up now. And then you can-"

"-ommy!Mommymommymommymom-" Sobs some weak filth from the corner of some cell. She gasps for air, curled up in the hard, cold corner of her own. The memory hit her so fast, so suddenly that she doesn't know what to feel. The dark coldness of the Guardian is moving away against the other end of her corridor. But despite that its' presence is fading she feels more cold then ever. Her head is full of emotions, emotions she never wants to feel. She hates her younger self for being so weak and she hates her father for being so cold and she hates herself for her weakness and she hates the Guardians for making her feel this way. She hates them all.

"-mommymommymommy. Moooooooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyy!Mom-"

Her hair is a mess and her clothes dirty, but she can care no less, because all she wants to do is to get a hold of a knife and take out all her misery, her twisted hatred and vengeance on someone else. To cut someone open and see the blood and pain and pink insides and bath in the glory of this twisted delight. She wants to imagine her father's face her mother's face her cousin's face her sister's face her husband's face and slit it open like a watermelon. She needs it so desperately she thinks she's going to break in two.

She's alone in the dark again. The cellar is cold and dark and scary. She hates it here. But it is here she is once again. Because she didn't follow the rules. She never follows the rules. She cries. She screams. No-one ever hear her. She wants to get out. She wants to die, to live, to burn. Her head is a mess and she doesn't want to be her anymore. She wants to escape into somewhere else with someone else's pain. It feeds the monster inside her and the monster keeps all the messy feelings away.

"MOMMY! NO!NO!NO!NO! MOMMY!"

She's shaking now. The moans and sobs and screams tearing at her, making her open wounds bleed freshly in the darkness. She wishes that the sun would never go down, because it takes every ounce of warmth with it and she can't stand the cold. She's a child again inside these walls and she hates the fact that the wave of coldness makes her flinch in the corner she has curled herself up in.

She hates her fear and her terror and her guilt and her self-hatred. They make her feel ugly, and she has always prided herself in her beauty. She feels- little and dirty and like a disappointment. Her father looks at her with cold eyes. "Why can't you be more like your cousin? You're an embarrassment to our family"

"But father, I didn't do anything wrong... Sirius was wrong... He was wrong... I swear-"

"It doesn't matter. He's the heir of the Black Family Tree, you are simply the insolent girl who questioned his judgment. None of my daughters shall ridicule themselves in front of our family" she wants so badly to be the Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, because Sirius doesn't deserve it and she would be such a better heir, but she's a girl. In her mother's eyes and her father's eyes this is unforgivable. They would gladly trade her away for Perfect Little Sirius. She hates him.

She hates them. Those hideous creatures that drags all old torments back to life with their dreadful cold and their dark presence. She wants to rip them apart for making her doubt herself. She! Bellatrix Lestrange, the Dark Lords most faithful servant!

"HELP! HELP! MOMMY!"

She feels herself ripping apart at the horrible sound of the boy in the cell at the end of the corridore. She feels sorry for him and she hates him for it. The monster inside her wants to make him scream for hurting her. She slams her hands over her ears shaking so violently that she's rocking back and forth. She feels so alone and so cold and so useless, cast aside like another ragged doll.

Abandoned again. Everyone has left her, like they all do sooner or later. The monster inside her, the one that revels in others' pain, has driven them away. They were too weak to stand her. Too foolish to be of any use. To see that she, Bellatrix, is the most powerful one, the dedicated one, the precious one. He told her that, her Lord. He caressed her cheek and told her she was valuable.

Only with the Death Eaters has she ever felt appreciated. She's feared and admired and desired. She's everything everyone wants to be. She's the Dark Lords most precious. She's beautiful and powerful and...-

Coldness seeps in from the door. The screams grow more frantic. Another Guardian is coming.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO M!"

"SHUT UP YOU FOOL!" She screams, because she can't bear to hear the screams anymore. "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! CRYING FOR MOMMY LIKE A BABY!? YOU BETTER BE DEAD WHEN THEY TAKE YOU BACK!"

"NO! NOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! MOMMY!"

"MOMMY CAN'T SAVE YOU NOW!" It feels so god to be cruel. It feeds the monster inside of her and makes her powerful, makes her better then the others. She can't be afraid and murderous at the same time and if she gets to pick she would pick murderous every day, every minute and every second. She feels better then- that disgusting bitch that is twitching underneath her wand. She enjoys the pain the woman is in, it feeds the monster inside her until there is nothing but the monster in Bellatrix skin left. She laughs at Longbottom's desperate screams. "ALICE!" he screams and she revels in his torment like it's a gourmet dinner for a starving man. She ends the curse and leans forward, placing her hand on her face and making sure her blood red nail scratches the bitch's cheeks.

"Where is he!?" She demands to know. "Where is the Dark Lord!?"

"Go to hell!" The black-haired bitch spits out. She screams in outrage and raises her wand and-

"I'LL DO ANYTHING! - ANYTHING! JUST DON'T-!DON'T!-" She recognizes the voice now. It's Barty Fucking Crouch Jr. She should have known he was a burden. The bastard can't even take the pain with dignity, like her. No... He's sitting somewhere crying for mommy. Fucking idiot.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU IDIOT" She shouts at him. She rips away her hands from her head and in a moment of rare bravery crawls to the door, peaking out to see why the hell has that idiot going on like there is a mudblood in his cell waiting to marry him. She looks out and feels the shock of the Guardians presence hit her hard. Her memories uncurl like the strings on a ripped robe.

"Andy? Andy, where are you going?" She so scared because her sisters packing and she doesn't want to think about what this means "Away" her sister calmly answers. She feels her world freeze. The only one who stood by her side is leaving.

She can't do that, Bella realizes. She promised. She swore!

"Are you running of with that mudblood?" Her sister turns around with lightning speed and her wand is pointed towards Bella's breast. "Don't call him that!" She sneers.

Her world shatters. She dies bleeds breaks. She's been abandoned. Again. For some filhty mudblood with no honor and no family and no job. She's been thrown aside by the only one she trusts and she's dying bleeding breaking. She feels her monster awake. She feels so betrayed.

"LEAVE THEN! LEAVE OUR HOUSE YOU FILHTY BLOODTRAITOR! I HOPE YOU DIE TOGETHER WITH THAT DISGUSTING MUDBLOOD! I HOPE YOU DIE, ANDROMEDA! YOU CAN TAKE YOUR THINGS AND LEAVE! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" Her sister looks betrayed. She hates her for it and she hates herself.

"FINE!"

"FINE!" They look at each other. Identical on the outside but not on the inside. Then Andy turns and- she can see two dark shapes in the end of the corridor. Two cloaked Guardians with bony bodies and dark coldness. They are reaching inside a cell. Barty's cell, she realizes with pleasure. Finally. He's going to shut up now.

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMYY! MOOO-..." Silence. Blissful, precious silence. She leans against the bars, feeling like a child once again. She watches them drag the limp body out from the cell, watches them take him away somewhere. She feels the monster inside her suck up every scrap of misery, feeding it to herself. She can't be happy, so she hungers for the misery. She hungers for torment and destruction and hatred and blood.

In the cell to the left of the one in front of her a black dog is sitting. She wonders how it got there. Then she decides it doesn't matter. It fits in with the rest of them. A bitch among bitches.

She laughs. It's a throaty, unnatural sound that makes eyes turn towards her - even the dog looks disturbed- and it is more the torture of emotions inside her then the joke that makes her laugh. Because all her life she has suppressed her feelings by making others helpless and herself powerful and she has loved every moment of it as much as someone like her can love. She loves the way they scream and beg and cry. And here, where they all scream and beg and cry, she is more broken then ever before. She is rotting from the inside out and she hates it all. She hates them all and the irony is a bitch.

Her mad laughter attracts the Guardians' attention. They are not used to laughter and she doesn't know if they are curious or unhappy. She doesn't care. She feels her carefully made world crumble. The cracks are spreading over her fragile crystal existents. The shattered figure she has so carefully glued together is unraveling.

She loves it she hates it she doesn't care.

They close in on her, gliding over the floor and leaving behind nothing more than a trail of frost and icy darkness. There are two of them. They come so close too close so very close to her. They watch her and her deranged laughing and she doesn't move and she can't breathe and darkness and coldness swallows her and- she's standing over the cooling body of her mother. Lying in the bathtub is the weak shell of a weak woman. She hates her for leaving, she hates her for being weak and she hates her for never loving her. But most of it all she hates her for dying. She hates that woman that gave birth to her for slitting her wrists in the old bathtub. It's the easy way out and she also hates herself for being too much of a coward to take it. She longs to do what that weak woman had the courage to do.

But it is a disgrace to her family. It is a spot on the family name no-one can scrub away.

"Bella?" The girl in the doorway asks with a trembling voice. "What are we going to do? Father will be home soon"

She turns to the blond little girl that everybody loved and everybody adored. That perfect little angel that could never do anything wrong. Mommy's girl. Daddy's girl. Weak and pathetic. She wrinkles her nose at her and her sister starts to cry. "Leave then, if you can't stop crying like a child" Her voice is hard and cold and her monster purrs at her sisters hurt face.

"LEAVE!" She shouts when the girl is just standing there, hovering in the doorway with a tearstained face. She turns and listens to her sister's crying fading together with her footsteps. She turns to the cooling body in the bathtub. She knows what she has to do. She knows her duty.

"You could at least have hanged yourself" She tells her dead mother.

They breathe in her memories and she laughs even harder. Because she has pushed everybody away so that they could never hurt her and now she's alone and cold and hurt because of it. Everything she has feared has happened and she can't do anything but laugh and laugh and- his face is cold.

"You're that girl. The Black girl" He says and she smiles at him. A doll's smile, hard and cold and fake.

"You're that Fawstley boy" She sneers. He glares at her in silent hatred and she glares back.

"It's Fawley!" He snaps. She gives him a sweet smile that twists bitterly on her face.

"Oh... I'm sorry" She tells him with a tone that says that she really isn't. He's disgusting filth to her eyes, like everybody else in this blasted school. She wants him to burn. She wants him to bleed and she wants to be the one to do it. It's nothing personal, she wants to say while he's bleeding out, It's just that I don't like you.

The Guardian leans over her and consumes her darkness. It reminds her of the way she leaned over her prey in their last moments of sanity in their last moments of life and consumed their darkness, their hurt and their torment and their terror. Her laughter reaches new highs, climbing up and echoing through the cell through the corridor through the darkness. She can't do anything else but laugh madly, because the irony is too great for her to understand.

She kisses his freckles, counts them like stars. His hands are everywhere, setting her on fire with that twisted agony that's both pain and pleasure twined together as one. She lets her mouth stray down over his collar, down down down towards his collarbone, kissing, sucking, moaning. His skin is so soft against her lips, it tastes like the sea and the wind and freedom.

He moans as she bites down and his hands strokes her sides, sneaking up her shirt and leaving fire kisses on her skin. She has never felt as alive as now. He makes her feel safe. He makes her burn in an entirely new way that leaves her wanting more. She consumes him and he consumes her. They mix together. They unite and...

Her thoughts shatter. He undoes her and renews her in so many ways. She desires him more then anybody else. She wants him, every bit and piece of him.

Sweater. Skirt. Bra. She can't get them off any faster.

Tie. Shirt. Pants. He can't get them off any faster.

"This doesn't mean anything" he breaths out.

"Nothing" she breaths out, a moan building in her throat. He makes her so hot, so very burning bright. For one moment she feels like the only one in the world. She feels more then beautiful. She feels precious. She feels valuable. She feels wanted.

"I hate you, Black" He moans as she slips her fingers down down down.

"As I hate you, Fawley" She moans back. He touches her with tender fingers and she burns she burns she laughs like a madwoman.

In the cell to the left of the cell in front of her a man is sitting. His dark hair is greasy and long and his face gaunt and pale. He stares at her in horror, and it makes her laugh even harder. The cloaked one takes away all her memories, tugs at them until she has no choice but to give them up.

She hates her cousin. He's everything she wants to be but can't and he throws it back in her faces. He mocks her and she doesn't take that well. She despises the very ground he walks on. He's an embarrassment to the family. He is the worse blood traitor there is. "Do you like dancing, little lion?" She laughs and sends another green curse towards him. He evades it easily.

"Don't touch my family!" He snaps and something inside her breaks. He's her family. No Potter and no Lupin and no Pettigrew can ever replace her. No-one ever replaces her. She aims for Potter next.

"Little Lions should watch out for Little Rats" She taunts him and he sneers, not really understanding the insult but hating it anyway. He sends a Jelly-Leg Jinx towards her and she nearly gets hit. In the last minute she deflects it and it hits the hooded figure to her right. The guy crumbles with little grace. She doesn't feel sorry for him, he should have watched out.

"Third year spells? Really? Is the baby having difficulties growing up? Maybe you should stay in the cellar like a good dog" he responds with a Stupify. The redheaded mudblood next to him takes down the rising Death Eater who got hit by Sirius stray Jelly-Leg Jinx. Potter tries to curse the cloaked one on her left. She laughs wildly.

"How does it feel? To be a disgrace to your own kind? Just like your brother!"

"Don't talk about my brother!" His eyes flash and she knows that she has him. He has insulted his brother, has fought him, has spat on everything he believed in and still he loves his brother, even though Regulus is dead. All his life Sirius has shunned his little brother, ignored him, screamed at him and talked about him with disdain. But still that brotherly bond refuses to die. That twisted thing that seems so like love torments her cousin. Because he wasn't there, he wasn't the brother Regulus needed.

She hates them more than ever. Her hatred for Regulus doubles. He has betrayed the Death Eaters, her family, her, and still he and Sirius loved each other in their own way. Andromeda never loved her that much. Her mother didn't. Her father certainly didn't.

"Avada Kedava" The curse rushes past Sirius head, graces his dark locks of hair and hits a running witch a couple of hundred meters behind. She turns so quickly her fellow Death Eater doesn't know what hit him. The dark curse blasts him through the window and into the bookshop, makes the loose pages rain down over the Diagon Alley like giant snowflakes.

"No-one kills him but me!" She growls and everybody is frozen. "Sirius Black is mine!"

His hers. Nobody will kill him but her. Her betrayal. Her honor on the line.

Her prey.

"Is this all you got!" She shrieks with mad laughter, beyond the line of terror beyond sanity without logic. The cloaked one leans farther in, soaks up her memories and sanity like a bottle of fire whiskey. She drowns in the memories. All small boxes filled with darkness in her minds is opening, flooding her until she's shut inside a mirror room, unable to escape and hating what she's seeing.

She pushes him away. He's too close. She fells claustrophobic trapped imprisoned terrified. He's so close to her heart she wonders if he can feel it skip a beat when he smiles. She should have done this long ago. He's too close to her soul to her mind to her life to her. She hates that she loves it. Maybe he's different she thinks. Maybe he won't leave me. But it's a fool's dream. He will leave like everybody else. Better now on her conditions than then on his.

"Don't do this" he whispers. She wants to comfort him she wants to kiss him she wants to stab him because he's everything he's nothing he's all she can think about.

"Don't do what? This was doomed from the start, Fawley. This doesn't mean anything, right?" He flinches when she says his last name. He looks at her with eyes that are so old so hurt so broken so sad. She wants to die for hurting him and she doesn't like that at all. She's too attached. She's falling for him and she won't let that happen. He's good in bed but nothing more. This doesn't mean anything. He doesn't mean anything.

"I know you don't believe that," he tells her and she smiles coldly, knowing that she has to squash that thought before it grows. She doesn't have time to talk though, because he's continuing, faster now. "You're just scared. You're always scared that people will leave you. You stand there looking like some Ice Queen when in really you're so, so scared of being alone. You're so scared that I will leave you in the dust so you try to leave me to stop that from happening but it will never happen because I lo-"

"Don't!" She says with a voice that is as desperate as it is angry. He thinks he knows her and it scares her because she can't tell if he's right. "Just don't"

"Bella... I...-" He softens and he looks so angelic she has to shut him up now, before he makes her change her mind.

"I'm marrying Lestrange" She blurs out and he freezes. The shock disbelief pain hurt is plain on his face. She almost regrets it, but it's best this way. No-one should ever come close to the thorny piece of rotting flesh she calls a heart. His eyes beg for it not to be true but she isn't lying she wishes she was lying she's glad that it stops because she can't take it anymore.

"Bella, what have you-... What have you done?" he whispers. Broken tossed away thrown away useless abandoned replaced, betrayed.

"What I should have done years ago. Do you want my soul? Take it! Take it if you dare! My Lord will come for me! My Lord will come for us all!"

It hesitates draws back a little and she sinks to the ground. Broken lost shattered. She breaths in a hollow breath as memories surface in her mind. His death, his face, his broken figure. Her husband's cold face, his dead weight. Her Lord her savior her darkness in light light in darkness everything worthy her everything she can see. Her cousin hollow his face his cell his stare him...

The laughter bubbles up again. The cloaked one blows a cold breeze warningly over her cheek and moves on, towards the right exit. She laughs loudly now, the harsh edge in her laugh reckless and daringly. Come and take me. Kill me. Free me. Come and see.

There's a dog in the cell left to the cell in front of her. It looks at her, curious pitiful angry hateful? She doesn't know and she doesn't care.

She's the Dark Lords most loyal follower and no-one will ever doubt her power. No-one will ever betray her and no-one will ever make her feel pain. She's decaying. Her mind is fluttering in the cold. Her sanity is shattered. Her memories are spread. She's broken. She's powerful. She's cruel and she lives for others' pain. She loves the way they scream and twitch and plead and cry and beg. They become undone in her hands and she loves every minute of it. They follow her to insanity.

Her laughter rings through the corridor, makes the weak shiver and the broken moan. She knows everything about insanity. She knows every step of the way and she enjoys walking down it just for a break.

The laughing ones never last, but that doesn't matter because the Dark Lord will return soon enough. He will rise to power and she will be there, his most faithful servant of them all. He will come for her. She knows that he will.

The monster inside her swells.

I love Bellatrix Lestrange. She's one of my favorite characters. She's wicked and cruel and insane and we love her for it. She's also played by the most brilliant actor ever, Helena Bonham Carter. God, how I love her "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK MOHAHAHAHAHAH!" Her laugh is so…. Mad…

Okay. I'm going to stop now. Promise.

So what can you say about my story? Well, I had the insane urge to start writing something sad, so I started to write a little and after a couple of hours I sat there with this story. The rest of the day passed in a very depressing manner (homework, homework and more homework) and today I decided to post it.

So what's it about? Well, if you don't know that then I'm afraid there is no hope left for you.

Because you escaped Azkaban and killed Sirius Black. (Yes, I am fully aware that my humor sucks. And I could have gone with some joke now about what else sucks but I'll restrain myself)

But back to the serious stuff. I always thought that Bellatrix must be a very complex character. She mocks everyone, kills people right and left and adores Lord Voldemort with a passion brighter then the sun. She's insane, sure, but even before she went to Azkaban she was so loyal to her Dark Lord (Remember; "The Dark Lord will rise again!" at the trial?). She never tried to deny being a Death Eater.

So this little story is during her time in Azkaban (in the beginning, because Sirius and Crouch Jr. is still there) where memories mix with reality and Dementors rule (even called Guardians in this story). Did you notice that Sirius was there? You know, "in the cell to the left of the one in front of her a black dog is sitting". And then later on I mentioned him as "In the cell to the left of the one in front of her a man is sitting".

So… Review? You better. I've got 5 stories and 18 reviews and I know that more than 18 people have read my stories! So push the button you lazy flobberworm and give me my happy-message.

Please comment spelling too and I would love to know what you think of the ending.

See ya later alligator!

A.C