hermione x femoc
In the foreboding corridors of Malfoy Manor, where opulence disguises a suffocating darkness, lurks the elusive enigma, Merla Malfoy. A haunting figure overshadowed by the Malfoy legacy, she bears the weight of an unspeakable curse...
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Warnings: torture, death, blood
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Merla groaned, her eyes felt heavy and her arms felt limp. She panicked when she felt something tight around her wrists. Her eyes snapped open, she was in a chamber. She looked up to see herself hanging by her wrists from the roof.
She grunted and pulled the chains. "Hello?" She called out. Her voice echoed through the chamber. "Whoever did this is so dead." She pulled the chain once more, a slight crack formed on the roof above her.
"Miss Malfoy." An eerie voice called from her left. She snapped her eyes to see Professor Quirrelle smiling. He walked up to her and clapped her heads. "I am so very glad to see you awake. I was afraid I may have caused some real damage back on the pitch."
Her eyes grew wide. "You bitch?" She cursed and tugged on her chains. She didn't ask any questions. Like where his stutter went, or what he was doing. Most villains typically had long boring monologs.
"You see-" She grit her teeth. Here he goes. "I-"
"I don't care." She cut him off. "Really, you better get me out of these chains or I'll kill your old ass."
Professor Quirrelles eyes widened. He laughed and picked up an object. It shined in the dimly lit room and Merla swallowed nervously when she saw it. A knife.
His eyes shined brightly when he turned back to Merla. "We are just going to conduct a quick experiment." Quirrelle brought the knife towards Merlas face. She grimaced and pulled her head away.
Quirrelle gripped the back of her hair and pulled her closer. The flat end of the knife connected with her left cheek, it burned unnaturally against her skin. She scrame in agony as the world went black.
Merla gasped and cried when the blade was pulled away from her cheek. A small trail of blood dripped down her chin. "Fascinating. You can siphon dark magic." Quirrelle muttered to himself. "How do you feel?"
She glared up at him. She felt horrible. Her skin was on fire, a red burn traveled from her face down her neck. Her entire body was shaking. "Peachy." She muttered and clenched her hands which had gone numb.
He whispered something to himself, actually it seemed he was having a conversation by himself. He smiled and reached for something else. "Open your hand." Merla clenched her hands tighter. "I won't ask again." He threatened.
Merla responded to the threat by spitting in his face. He grimaced and tightened his grip on the knife. He forced her hand opened and placed a locket into the palm of her hand. A similar affect casted over her body as before.
