Post by Mira Noth on Nov 15, 2009 22:27:32 GMT -5
Ms. Pamerol lived alone and enjoyed life that way. She was walking out away from the paved stones of the city and was turned along the dirt path to her squalor set off amongst the swampy waters that lurked like a dark shadow behind the city space. The dwellers of stone feared the murky water and soft mud that sucked down unsuspecting children, but Ms. Pamerol loved it, the crickets singing to her as she walked through the reeds, her boots squelching over the raw, watered down earth. Brushing wild flowers that bloomed here and there, though prickled at the stems with pointed thorns, the fog that drove away the city from sight and left an air of hushed peace, though the stone dwellers called it the Ghosts that seeped out of the earth, of lost children and disappeared maidens or lovers.
But tonight was different, as it has been for decades, but Ms. Pamerol knew not of it and simply hummed to herself as the day quickly stiffled into it's purple blanket, the sun sinking away from a more prominent mist, and it's victim was the ever dedicated Ms. Pamerol. A hinkypuff* set it's lantern a'swaying, as it took down the original one and lead his own off sideways into a deep pit just off the path. It usually was quite and lazy and waited for the silly muggle squeaker younglings to come by before devouring them, but the air hung dark and suspecting, and with a renewed power of mischief the little beast hadn't felt for years returned strong as it awaited the stupid old muggle. She came by, her feet with years of memory telling her to go strait, but her eyes fooled her, and instead forced them towards the lantern, bright and warm, pointing her out to safety. Ms. Pamerol walked on, but out of the corner she saw her lamp post in the dim light, off to the side, crooked and broken, in the middle of the very path she should have been stepping on, and the next thing she knew she was sinking into the thick, gooey darkness, a snicker in her ear, and she slowly, with muffled screams, quickened her death with the little hinkypuff* pulling her down into the very bog she called home.
Voldemort, recently renewed with the true power of movement and life, was enjoying the very scene he had scripted. His anger had ebbed as he enjoyed himself until finally the bubbles of the muddblood stopped with a final burst of the last bit of air she had in her, though he continued to stare anyway. He was angry at his followers, at letting the Potter brat slip through his fingers like a little tadpole, useless and tiny, yet like a pebble in his boots very annoying and just not getting out of his way when he needed it to, rubbing his feet raw. But that was all alright, the Ministry fools would never believe the boy, with his record, and because of their fear, he had almost free reign till his next plan, to get the greatest weapon he needed to finally defeat the boy, the full prophecy the wretched Snape didn't have fully, but he had to go over the plan carefully. Obviously Dumbledor's old cooks would we vigilant, but for now, he still felt a flicker of anger and felt like stuffing it away with some more amusement. He finally swept away from the still bog, towards the little stone dwelling of filth, a horde of very energetic giants quivering with anticipation following him from behind. Yes, Voldemort thought triumphantly, the dark days are yet to come once again.
* I forget if it's a Hinkypuff or whatnot, but you all should get the gist of it.
But tonight was different, as it has been for decades, but Ms. Pamerol knew not of it and simply hummed to herself as the day quickly stiffled into it's purple blanket, the sun sinking away from a more prominent mist, and it's victim was the ever dedicated Ms. Pamerol. A hinkypuff* set it's lantern a'swaying, as it took down the original one and lead his own off sideways into a deep pit just off the path. It usually was quite and lazy and waited for the silly muggle squeaker younglings to come by before devouring them, but the air hung dark and suspecting, and with a renewed power of mischief the little beast hadn't felt for years returned strong as it awaited the stupid old muggle. She came by, her feet with years of memory telling her to go strait, but her eyes fooled her, and instead forced them towards the lantern, bright and warm, pointing her out to safety. Ms. Pamerol walked on, but out of the corner she saw her lamp post in the dim light, off to the side, crooked and broken, in the middle of the very path she should have been stepping on, and the next thing she knew she was sinking into the thick, gooey darkness, a snicker in her ear, and she slowly, with muffled screams, quickened her death with the little hinkypuff* pulling her down into the very bog she called home.
Voldemort, recently renewed with the true power of movement and life, was enjoying the very scene he had scripted. His anger had ebbed as he enjoyed himself until finally the bubbles of the muddblood stopped with a final burst of the last bit of air she had in her, though he continued to stare anyway. He was angry at his followers, at letting the Potter brat slip through his fingers like a little tadpole, useless and tiny, yet like a pebble in his boots very annoying and just not getting out of his way when he needed it to, rubbing his feet raw. But that was all alright, the Ministry fools would never believe the boy, with his record, and because of their fear, he had almost free reign till his next plan, to get the greatest weapon he needed to finally defeat the boy, the full prophecy the wretched Snape didn't have fully, but he had to go over the plan carefully. Obviously Dumbledor's old cooks would we vigilant, but for now, he still felt a flicker of anger and felt like stuffing it away with some more amusement. He finally swept away from the still bog, towards the little stone dwelling of filth, a horde of very energetic giants quivering with anticipation following him from behind. Yes, Voldemort thought triumphantly, the dark days are yet to come once again.
* I forget if it's a Hinkypuff or whatnot, but you all should get the gist of it.
