Chapter Text
October 31st, 1981
Godric's Hollow
19:54
A sickly green flash flared to life, casting dark, writhing shadows across the dim room. The desperate cry of a woman, choked with agony, shattered the silence, followed by a child's piercing wail. The sound echoed through the nursery, a haunting reverberation of loss and despair.
A ghostly figure stood motionless, her form barely clinging to existence, flickering with the malevolent energy that saturated the air. Her young face was etched with sorrow, her eyes fixed on the tragedy unfolding before her. As the grim reality of her family’s near extinction settled in, her sadness darkened, twisting into something more dangerous—an anger that simmered beneath the surface, threatening to consume her entirely.
Her eyes, a haunting murky blue that held the weight of centuries yet remained eerily youthful, widened in panic. A silent scream tore from her lips, unheard by anyone but herself, a final, anguished cry for a family shattered once again.
Frozen in place, she felt the crushing burden of centuries of suffering pressing down on her. Another child lost, another piece of her heart wrenched away. In a desperate, frantic motion, she reached out and grabbed the little boy, her cold, dead fingers tightening around his throat, desperately searching for any sign of life. But he was gone, cruelly stolen by the world. With a final, hopeless sob, she gently placed his small body back in the cradle and collapsed to the ground, her grief too overwhelming to bear.
Beside her, a wraith lingered—a once-living being, now nothing more than an empty husk, its soul trapped in a prison of its own making.
The ghostly woman stood there, her heart heavy with grief and despair. She felt the presence of a shadowed figure behind her, its cruel, mocking smile searing into her like a brand. It thrived on her suffering, feeding on her pain as if it were sustenance. The stench of death thickened the air, the weight of loss pressing down on her until it felt like she might break. She was powerless, a ghost among the living, condemned to witness the darkness consuming all she loved.
The shadowed figure drew closer, its smile widening into something twisted and unnatural. It reveled in her agony, its blank stare boring into her as she wept. It was as if all the cruelty and malice in the world had taken shape, a being existing solely to inflict torment.
Its voice slithered through the air, a sinister whisper laced with ancient, dark knowledge. The sound of its laughter followed chilling and unnatural— a chorus of voices, each one belonging to a life it had claimed. It had watched her frantic, futile attempts to revive the boy with perverse amusement, its formless body wrapping around her like a suffocating shroud. The stench of death and decay was overwhelming, its presence mocking her grief with every breath.
The girl let out a shriek, the sound reverberating in the silent room as the figure squeezed her tighter, its twisted humor taunting her despair.
“This needn't be the end, you know…” the figure whispered, its voice seeping into her mind like poison. “I could bring you to another.”
Its words echoed, taunting her with the promise of escape from this torment. She hesitated, torn between the urge to protect what little remained of her bloodline and the lure of a way out, however twisted.
“W-... What about the boy? W-... Will he be alright?” she stammered, her voice trembling, nearly breaking.
The figure’s laughter erupted again, she cringed at the grotesque chorus of voices that filled the room. The sound was a cacophony of suffering, cutting through her like a blade. The darkness around her shifted, alive and breathing, its power pressing down on her, suffocating her beneath its weight. She was utterly at the mercy of the shadowed figure, and it delighted in her fear, the shadows caressing her with a cruel, possessive touch.
It leaned in closer, its breath icy and burning against her neck. “Of course, he will. Who do you take me for?” it cooed, its voice dripping with sinister amusement.