extracTION `bella`

[voldemort]

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[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,270][atrb=height,521][atrb=align,justify][bg=ffffff] ”Leave, you idiot!” he has yelled, his voice loud and beyond anger. The short man nearly fell over his own feet as he ran from the room, scampering off in a way far too identical to a rat. Most of the time, however, his intellect and ability was not far above that very rodent. And his morning, he’d shown his abilities; or rather, lack of. Papers were missing, information lost, a project of importance nearly scrubbed due to a mistake. Something completely avoidable. Something the Dark Lord found worthy of death, though he wasn’t going to forget what that certain servant had done for him. The room was soon a mess, things blown to bits, glass splintering the walls, the unused bed now a pile of charcoal in the corner. The drapes were torn and, in general, the entire room was trashed beyond any other the others in the small hotel complex, though that was hard to believe. The small building was off to the edge of Knockturn Alley, something hardly noticeable by most, and something to be ignored by others. However, it was a place that Voldemort had spent some time in previous to the first wizarding war, and he knew its secrets well. The manager was his old ‘friend’, though now, he had betrayed the pureblood cause and had disallowed Voldemort to gain a room. Which was why, as Voldemort was standing in the center of his destruction, the drapes now on fire and the air buzzing with his own hatred for stupidity, the door suddenly opened and the Dark Lord spun where he stood to see who it was. He almost started off in a rage at Wormtail, however, found himself facing a witch and a wizard, having previously been locked in a passionate embrace, the man hardly opening the door as he tried to please his woman friend. It was a rather sickening display. Now, they stood, a look of confusion on their face. As their eyes roamed the room, they quickly were enveloped in fear, their eyes meeting the Dark Lord’s. The door closed behind them as they were both tossed into the room by a force unseen, no wand having been drawn. The man tried to be brave, attempting to protect the female. His wand was pulled from his cloaks, and he stood to face the Dark Lord. Apparently, this child did not know the face of evil. However, soon enough, he would understand his mistakes. It would be his last realization. The duel was pathetic, and with one swipe of his wand, the man was falling over his lady friend, his throat cut from one ear to the other, his life force draining from him, spilling over the dusty floor. It was quite a sight, and the girl was screaming her head off. Still unhappy with his situation, Voldemort pointed his wand at the girl, having grabbed it from the depths of his own black clothing. ”Crucio.” The screaming turned tenfold and soon people were rushing around, trying to find the cause of such pain. As the life left her eyes from the sheer force of the Dark Lord’s anger mixed with such a spell, the Dark Lord stepped out into the hallway, not before the room bursted into a flame so hot the entire building would be in smoke soon. He’d been fast to grab the papers that remained, hoping the information on those papers would be enough for a quick entrance, and a faster exit, but he wasn’t sure. The idiot had lost priceless information, and would pay for it within an inch of his pathetic life. Disapperating from the building, he was quickly in a much happier place, none to so many as Diagon Alley. He did not walk to main streets, the hood of his cloak having been pulled over his head, covering a large portion of his face. There would be no reason to let others become aware of his presence yet, though he wasn’t sure what he would do about the incident with building. In any case, no one had seen him and no one would believe Potter. The Dark Lord would be of no suspect in the situation. As he headed for his destination, his eyes narrowed and he let himself to begin to calm. Before too long, he found a place to sit, a quiet corner where he would not be disturbed. He flicked through the pages of the folder, reading over every word, taking in ever last bit of information that he could. Words had to be said, ownership claimed and a few charms cast, so as to enter the building safely. An exit would be the simple part, if the entrance was clean enough. The Dark Lord replaced the folder and sat for a moment longer, his back straight, his head held high. Soon enough he would not have to lurk around the back streets and he would be free to roam were he wanted without a hidden face. He would have power and an endless line of support, none flakey or stupid, and he would have no worry of losing paper. He scoffed for a moment longer over his Death Eaters disabilities before standing. A few moments later, he was sitting outside of St. Mungo’s, those passing by completely unaware of his presence, unable to see or sense him. Bellatrix would, however, be able to see him and know of him. He simply hoped she was ready to face his rage.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 561 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Lord Voldemort witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Black cloth wove restlessly in the scorching wind, exposing the slender figure of an older witch, her face pale and thin: a mask of apathy. Her jaw was set firmly as she continued through the alleys of the small city, determined in her goal to meet her Lord in a timely manner. Along the way, Bellatrix flicked up her thin, translucent black hood: pulling the strands of her endless long curls around her face to help blend her into the dark, pitiful streets. Just yesterday the two had not only infiltration the Ministry of Magic, but had also taken a file, killed many, and left in quite happy moods. A stand on the side of the street provided the woman with the day’s newspaper, and much to her disappointment, the only indication of the woman’s and the Dark Lord’s presence within the Ministry was the obituary. The Ministry had made sure to cover up their weakened defenses, refusing to expose such a thing to the public. This caused a growl to erupt from the Death Eater, one of anger and frustration. At least many half-bloods had died in their raid towards the end of the ‘visit’, the rest being scarred for life by her black magic. Casting the paper aside on the street, Bellatrix continued on in her travels, her mind turning to her Master: as they always seemed to do. Again he had told his Bella to accompany him on the mission to free the Death Eater, now known to be in St. Mungos. He very well could have contacted another Death Eater, none as worthy as she, she was sure. However, he had not. Even after her antics yesterday within the walls of the Ministry, he still wanted her along. A small shiver ran through her spine, for never had she wanted to walk through those halls, but despite that a smile appeared upon her lips, her eyes and head cast down to the cobblestone below. The rather tall, white building of St. Mungos appeared in the distance; off in the way it paled in comparison to the others around it. A grimace stained her face: for the woman was not at all happy to be arriving in such a place. One made for the sick, for the weak, and for the insane, which was what the Death Eater inside had been mistaken as. She didn’t envy the man in the slightest, for she would take fourteen years in Azkaban over fourteen years in an insanity ward any day. It was obvious, as she approached the entrance to the hospital, that the Dark Lord was hidden himself from outsiders. Taking the hint that he didn’t want to be pointed out, she walked past the place she knew he sat in wait for her, and leaned against the building a few lengths away: her eyes half-closed, her face apathetic, and her body appearing relaxed. She crossed her arms and appeared to be shielding herself from the elements, a quiet snake in waiting. Bellatrix was certain that when it was time, the Dark Lord would signal her: telling her where he wanted her to enter. As the witch latched onto the wall, her act was good enough to fool all outsiders. Many passed her, a look of pity on their faces. Her face was quiet serene, almost as if she were sleeping. notes // kind of short, but i thought it would do

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

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[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,270][atrb=height,521][atrb=align,justify][bg=ffffff] The Lord saw his companion once again, though he would be much less gentle today. His eyes narrowed and his pace much more edgy than usual, he stood and strolled over to were Bella stood, aware that others could see her, yet not him. He wouldn’t alert her to a certain rat’s mistake just yet, though he needed to vent his rage to someone, and the opportunity would come eventually. His path led him very close to Bellatrix, looking down at her for a split moment. He hoped it would be long enough to allow her to understand his current rage, for he would hate her to do something stupid and get punished for it. His next movements were very gentle, slow and precise. Though he was angrier than he had been in quite some time, he wouldn’t allow his moment of rage to make jeopardize the outcome of his current mission. ”I am going to cast a charm, very quickly, that will put the same effect on you as is on your Lord now,” he spoke, his voice oddly low, oddly controlled. He had no reason to yell at the moment, even though the urge was very much there, very much wanting to be released. He took out his wand and hardly pointed at her before muttering a few quick sentences, spoken in parseltongue. Charm seemed to be much stronger when spoken in the language of the snakes, and at the moment, he didn’t want to concentrate on making his spell very strong by sheer will power. Otherwise, he would not have graced his death eater with hearing the language he held so dear to him. He turned from her, abruptly, no concern or caring left in his eyes for anyone in the world, even her. He walked through the door as if he were a ghost, no movement of the panels of wood to alert anyone that he had entered. Bellatrix would be able to do the same thing. He only hoped that she would follow closely, as he took no time to make sure she was following. Nothing personal, but he didn’t care to relay that message to Bellatrix. The room was rather large, white and clean. People were rushing around quickly, seeming to be very busy with their own business. The Dark Lord stopped for a moment, nearly having to cover his nose at the smell. When the Dark Lord was enraged, it would seem that his sense were much stronger. The scent of mudbloods enraged him, his eyes narrowing further. He quickly made his way towards the west, taking a hallway there. Quickly, he made his way through the maze of walls, knowing exactly where his death eater was located. Unfortunately, there were quite a few high security measures taken to insure that the patients would be protected. Not in the mood to unlock the secrets, the Dark Lord would simply blast though them. He quickly turned, making sure the Bellatrix was following him. It would seem he had calmed a bit, his mind lingering on other things now. His temper was fluctuating, a very dangerous thing for those around him. At the moment thought, Bellatrix would have the responsibility of keeping the Lord from destroying the entire place, in the event that something else went wrong and the Lord took it harder than he should, which was bound to happen.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 567 // outfit // clicky // tagged // My Lord witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Bellatrix, deep into the pitiful and small character that she was currently portraying, did not show any signs of acknowledging her Lord’s enclosing proximity. Once he had stopped and took time to watch her over, she could tell something was wrong. It wasn’t really as if she had any special connection to him, much to her dismay, however after years of observation the witch could feel his emotions radiate through the space between them. His movements changed very slightly when he was emotionally disturbed; his words said with a twinge of anger in them, detectable only by those who paid attention. And pay attention she did. Closing her eyes slowly, Bellatrix focused on her Lord; waiting for words to spill from his mouth, or a signal in the least. Carefully not to show any sign that there was an invisible, extraordinary man in her midst, Bellatrix continued her act: her body appearing as if it were asleep. As she waited for a signal, she couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander to what it was afflicting her Lord. It wasn’t long, however, before he spoke quietly to her. Immediately her knowledge of his anger was confirmed; although he had tried to hide it, his voice betrayed him. Any other follower wouldn’t have noticed. The charms were said in the language of the snake, foreign to the witch. She listened, but only felt as if a snake were watching her, hissing away. Eventually her body disappeared from sight, her presence concealed perfectly, and never missed. The entrance to St. Mungo’s had been deserted several minutes ago; which is most likely why the Dark Lord had chosen that time to come to her and cast his spell. As his presence wafted away from her, she forced herself forward off the wall, following him as closely as she dared. Before the two had entered the building, Bella’s heels had been removed: for they were hindering her ability to keep up with her Master. By this time, her wand had been unsheathed and was held first in her grasp. After dropping the heavy shoes, they disintegrated into the air, made to reappear where she currently resided. After successfully entering the hospital undetected, Bellatrix nearly lost the presence of her Lord due to her gazing at the curious work of the witches and wizards here. Her black leggings, which neatly conformed to her feet, made no sound: saving her as she almost ran into someone. Clamping her jaw down, determined in her task, she latched onto her Lord once more and followed him through a western hallway and through an onslaught of walls. It reminded her very much of yesterday’s brick walls, moving in the attempts to entrap the two Death Eaters. However, the color of the white walls soothed her agitated emotions, allowing her to focus on hustling after her rather-fast moving Dark Lord. He stopped; making sure that Bella was close, which she was. She stood, her dark hair contrasting sickeningly against the hospital, her jaw clamped firmly. Bellatrix wasn’t a fan of the place, especially now that they were nearing the insanity ward. She suddenly felt a soft twitch work its way up into her free arm, her fingers curling for no reason. The Dark Lord certainly did have a way of making her uncomfortable; which, she presumed, was acceptable on account of level of certainty she retained in his presence. notes // notes notes notes notes

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

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[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,270][atrb=height,521][atrb=align,justify][bg=ffffff] He Dark Lord was definitely calming down, his mind on other things. However, they would surely come up as the security got tighter and he would he required to nearly guess at how to proceed. The problem would be dealt with as it came up. His stride wide, moving at speed he only hoped Bellatrix could keep up with, he made his ways through the halls, his sights set on the insanity ward. He’d been there previous, many times in many situations. The Longbottoms had retained helpful information he had needed, and their memories, though pieced together and a bit difficult to follow, had served him in many situations. His companion had a lovely way of torturing people to the point of insanity. Taking a quick left, he stopped. Guards were stationed on either side of a very plain looking door, painted as white as anything else in the building, though the color seemed to be deteriorating as they moved upwards. Less care was taken of this part of the building, few people caring to travel up this way. It would seem the insane were soon forgotten. The guards were simple wizards, both adequate in their skills, though not nearly skilled enough to stop the Dark Lord from obtaining the man he needed for his army. The Imperius Curse was cast and the guards silently stepped aside, a strange looking taking over their faces. They would stay that way until Voldemort had left the premise. It would serve to keep him out of the way of notions of others that worked there. He still had things to accomplish before the world could know of his return. He stepped through the door and found himself in a small room, four doors on either side of the room, each leading to a different ward, for different levels of security, he was positive. A small woman worked behind a desk directly in front of him. The same unforgivable curse was cast upon her, and she automatically turned, stepping behind her and going to small cabinet behind her. She reached in and a folder was produced, being carried to the desk and dropped there. The Dark Lord summoned it into his grasp and flipped through the pages. He hoped to find the information that he was missing here. Before long, he found a few key phrases and mentally recorded them before placing the folder back on the counter. The small, stout woman replaced it and then sat, a blank stare on her face, her posture odd, too stiff in some manner. The Lord of Darkness hardly cared to get her character right. If someone came, they would simply be a bit curious as to why the three were acting to strange, but nothing would be alleged. ”Come Bellatrix. I shall tell you of something I would like to have you do once this little escapade is finished.” He moved to his right, opening the door on the left. The stepped through, into a much wider, much taller hallway. ”It would seem as though the one who brought my body back to this word has expended himself with that act. While I was repositioning, he held the records. When he returned them to me, several valuable pages were missing. I would like you to punish the rodent for it, in any way you see fit. I find I will not be in his presence for some time, as he has disgraced me.” Taking an immediate right, they were soon at a thick door. The Dark Lord placed but a finger on the lock and muttered a single word, a click proceeding. He stopped, turning to Bellatrix. ”If you must do something stupid Bellatrix, in my service, it would be wise to take your life before I am able to find you,” he warned, his voice controlled as normal, calm and low. He turned the knob and entered. Inside, a man was slumped against the wall, eyes closed. However, his eyes flicked open, narrowed until he saw the face. He immediately bowed. Before he could speak, Voldemort motioned for Bellatrix to release the man.

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 488 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Voldemort witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - Bellatrix scampered quickly after her Lord, his pace noticeably quickening. It appeared anger caused determination and devotion within the Dark Lord, rushing him in his mission to rescue his Death Eater. This lone man trapped within this hospital . . . Had it been her choice, she would have left him. One man was not worth the time it took to release him. There were plans to be created and put into action, and yet here they were: rescuing a single man who wasn’t extraordinarily special. He was a hired loyalist, paid in fear, rewarded with the life force still resonating through his veins. This man was most definitely not worth her time, and more importantly, the Dark Lord’s time. Forcing her thoughts back to the situation at hand, Bellatrix continued to sprint as quietly as she could manage, struggling to stay within a reasonable proximity of her dear one. A sharp left lead and a sudden stop ended her thoughts completely as she stared, glaring really, at the guards protecting a certain door. The insanity ward . . . She wouldn’t help but flinch as, of course, she knew the pain of such a place. The guards were quickly forced aside by Lord Voldemort, his patience wearing terribly thin. The Lord stepped through the door instantly, followed a split second later by Bella. Watching the exchange between the hospital worker and the Dark Lord, Bella fought to retain upright and alert. The mere fact that they were so close sent shivers up her spine, forcing her into a noticeable personality switch. Grasping her left arm with her right, staring at the ground, Bellatrix bowed her head, her back nearly straight. She could almost see the electricity. Not a word left her lips, unlike the Dark Lord’s, whose word broke her mental episode. Snapping her head up, she followed him into the next hallway, listening to his rant: quite sure this was what was upsetting him. As the command was given, Bella found herself angered as well. The infinitesimally annoying rodent had LOST parts of the records? The ones they had, just yesterday, infiltrated the MINISTRY to attain? Punishment was indeed needed, and would be given with much pleasure. Turning right, the witch stood back as Lord Voldemort opened the door before them, breaking her sadistic thoughts with his warning. ”Understood, my Lord.” When he had turned the knob and pushed the door open, Bellatrix jerked violently: a vision of utter torture filling her eyes. The wooden table, the leather straps, the copper wires. Despite it all, she forced her body through the threshold, staring at the Death Eater slumped against the far wall. At her Master’s signal, she scurried over to him, shaking disturbingly as she touched the straightjacket curled around the man. After undoing the straps, yanking it off him, she bounded back to the Dark Lord’s side, more than hoping to leave soon. Another twitch in her arm. notes // my muse was not the best for this post, quite sorry!

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[voldemort]

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[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,270][atrb=height,521][atrb=align,justify][bg=ffffff] As soon as the death eater was released, something occurred to the Dark Lord. Something seemed to vibrate in the room. Of course the rodent had lost the information about the security measures that surrounded actually releasing the man. As soon as the man was unstrapped, slowly getting up and limping towards the Dark Lord, darkness leaped up from the corners, shaping into nearly formless creatures with claws extended, eyes glowing in the darkness. The door locked behind them, and it wouldn’t be long before the guards would soon be cornering them even further. However, those he had put under the imperius curse would die before the Dark Lord had to deal with any of the hospital works. At the moment though, the shadows that now seemed alive were of much more of a threat. The Dark Lord raised a single hand, and before too long, the creatures held no threat. Instead, they slowly began to glow a faint yellow and then, slowly faded away, silent screams lots in their formless shapes. The now saved Death Eater looked around for a moment before his eyes grew wide and he fell to the ground, his screams bubbling up from his mouth. He Lord of Darkness held his wand in his hand, pointed directly at his chest. Eyes narrowed, his slowly prowled forward, a snake stalking its prey. ”You have something I wish to know of, something I wish to destroy. Speak now, or forever hold your secrets. Until death,” he growled, the air charged with his anger. This was what he needed, something to occupy and take away his anger. The man, now clumped on the ground, tears streaking his face, opened his mouth, though spoke no audible words. The Dark Lord slowly seeped into the man’s mind, running through his memories, reliving the moments of his life that Voldemort needed. The man had a secret, something very much aware to the Lord, though the man thought it was his own. A traitor, this man was nothing more than a body, a carrier for something that would lead to the potential downfall to the Order, if this man wasn’t indeed being tricked by the other side of the fight. The memory came into focus, and before long a location and a password were achieved. A sickening smile came over Lord Voldemort’s face and he laughed. ”Your cooperation is appreciated,” he laughed, his tone harsh and cold, his poster straight and proud. He was just about to turn from the man to leave his with his fate of insanity when he rethought the situation. ’I hope you hold no secrets Bellatrix, though you would never dare. You’re far too loyal for that,’ he smiled, having turned to her. His eyes were waxed over with something close to lust, though it was for no normal human want. His desire was death, blood, the ending of one era and the turning to another. He turned and his wand was yet again aimed at the man, who was slowly beginning to stand, his green eyes bright with the tears of pain that had streaked his face. ”AVADA KADAVERA” he yelled, malice and hatred leaving him as his ager was taken out. He laughed a chuckle that resonated through the room. The dark walls, hardly any light penetrating, he basked in his glory within the darkness. He turned, the door ripping from the hinges as it smashed against the wall. The Lord walked through the halls, his goal to leave this building and destroy the Order, his future even more possible now. As the guards were killed, workers started entering the insanity ward, but they were no match for the Dark Lord. People fell against the walls, the floor splattered with blood, screams erupting from throats destined to be slit, their fate soon meeting them. As he stepped through one of the four doors, back into the main insanity center, he turned to Bellatrix. ”You’re very loyal Bellatrix, and keep in mind, you are among my . . . shall we say, favorites.”

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[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 468 // outfit // clicky // tagged // closed witch gone insane, - C L E A R T H E W A Y M U G G L E , M A K E S O M E R O O M - The moment the man began to step towards her Master, Bellatrix realized that they were under attack. Dark figures had been ejected from the shadows of the room, the door locked quickly behind them. Snarling, the woman yanked out her wand, pointing it at a cluster of the shadow-beasts. Despite her readiness to fight, the creatures simply faded away by the power of her Dark Lord; somehow a very unsatisfying end of them. The malice bubbling up inside the Death Eater responded quickly to the screams that suddenly erupted from the man they had just freed, his pain causing an evil glint to appear in her eyes. The fact that they were in an insanity ward no longer touched her thoughts as she watched the man scream and struggle, tears streaking his face. This . . . this was what they had taken their time to do, and it made a lot more sense. To retrieve the information from this man was worth the trip in here, to say the least, even if Bellatrix never fully understood what the information was. Then her Dark Lord laughed; something not quite as intense as her own laugher, she could compare, however it was something that sent chills down her spine. To laugh was to have joy, something her Lord rarely could partake in. Bellatrix felt her eyes widen in both fear and personal enjoyment, a wicked smile playing upon her lips. Her gaze quickly snapped to his when he addressed her, warning her of keeping secrets. Quickly she nodded, casting her eyes toward the stone floor beneath them. She could never hope to keep a secret from her Master, the mere thought of such a thing setting her on edge. Lord Voldemort then turned from her, killing the man, then returned to his twisted chuckling. The door tore itself from the hinges, the lock clearly broken by brute force. The wind from the simple action blew her hair wildly around her, the destruction of the infernal place bringing her happiness. As the two progressed through the hallways, the Dark Lord killing any and all who dared to enter his sight, Bellatrix turned to burning the halls and the bodies, breaking all of the windows and ripping off all of the doors from their hinges. Many confused looking mania patients stared at her, but didn’t respond to her destruction. Bellatrix only laughed as she continued to fill their wake in fire. As the two prepared to leave the insanity ward section of the building, her Lord turned to her, declaring her to be one of his favorites. A smile and a dip of the head was her response. The two then leisurely left the building, killing most of the employees and some of the patients. None of it mattered. She simply didn’t care. notes // this is soo completely horribly that I don’t even know what to say for it sorry!

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