I AM LORD VOLDEMORT (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flightofdeath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
asgardeventide2013-10-25 01:34 pm
flightofdeath) wrote in asgardeventide2013-10-25 01:34 pm
Entry tags:
two ✘ text ✘ video
[It's almost midnight when the knock sounds at the door.
Severus is pacing his room in Hel, hands fidgeting together with quiet apprehension as he walks back and forth with slow but tense steps when he hears the knock. He stops in his tracks and looks over at the door. He watches it. Waits. Another knock.
Well, now, who would be paying him a visit at this hour of night? More importantly… how is he possibly going to speak to them? He absently lifts a hand and clutches at his throat before anxiously running a finger along his lower lip. The earthquake that had hit Asgard earlier, the sudden loss of his voice… Perhaps he is being too paranoid but he can't help but think the two are somehow connected, and it's setting his teeth right on edge.
The knock sounds again. A nervous flare of irritation ignites in him and he starts for the door. A glare fixed on his face, he reaches the door, turns the door handle and yanks it open, a hand ready to furiously shoo the person away.
The first thing he sees are the smiles. Toothy, terrifying smiles with glistening metallic teeth, and beady, dark eyes peering down at him with calm, sinister glee. His irritation gives way to confusion at first as the two bald men look at each other and make an almost pantomime show of looking at each other while polite applauding the other with a silent clap of their spindly, spider-like hands.
And then they turn their macabre smiles frozen on their ghastly faces back on Severus. He takes a step backwards, feeling horribly naked and vulnerable without his wand and without his magic, and they take a graceful step forward. Nay, not a step, Severus realises; they're gliding towards him, like ghosts, feet hovering about foot above the ground.
Quick as a flash, he goes to slam the door on them but he's too slow, or they're too quick: they suddenly seize him in their hands and Severus is dragged into the room, the door quietly closing with a soft snick in the latch. He struggles with all his might against them, even tries to summon everything within his power of Body Control to make the ghoul-like men let him go, to no avail.
Dread and terror-fuelled adrenalin rush through his veins as one of the men produces a small, shiny metallic knife. And before he can do anything, the knife is suddenly plunged into his chest. He lets out a silent scream of pain, head thrown back, tendons in his neck stretched taut like cable lines.
He feels everything: the searing slice of skin and muscle being severed by the scalpels, his clothes being torn open on his chest, cold fingers prodding him, moving with deft ease as they pry away muscle and sinew. The crack of his sternum. The sickening crunch of his ribs snapping. Cool air hitting his gaping chest. Pain so blinding, so exquisitely harrowing, that it's enough to almost make him pass out.
His body jerks and twists with agony under the silent carnage, arms flailing with spiralling listlessness, legs and feet kicking on the floor in an almost seizure-like manner. His breaths become short, rapid, wheezy, like the squealing of a pig that's had its windpipe slit. A death rattle gargles at the back of his throat, saliva and blood frothing out of his mouth. All the while, the men grin down at him with eerie, malicious calm.
One of them applauding the other with another polite, silently animated golf-clap is the last thing Severus sees before his eyes glaze over. He takes a final gurgling, wheezing breath and then… nothing. Just his fingers and feet twitching in the aftershocks of nerves still firing in his spinal chord while he stares with lifeless terror at the ceiling. One of the men lifts Severus' heart from his chest cavity, dripping with blood and dangling with severed arteries and muscles, while the other applauds him again with polite eagerness and blood-soaked hands.
Not more than a few minutes later, they're gone, the door closing quietly behind them while they glide like ghosts down the hallway.]
---
[Voldemort had arrived at Hel House with the intention of not leaving until Snape, the traitor, had suffered. The all-encompassing silence... It had been like a sign to him, a sign that he could strike and no one would be the wiser. Sound certainly still existed, but screams... Those pesky vocal, guttural sounds that escape when the body experiences pain... Without a means to silence through magic, they would prove an obstacle. And yet, with voices lost, a chance arose and he did not intend to waste it. What he didn't expect to find, however, was the deed already done, was the man mangled and the corpse's heart hollowed out.
Which is exactly the sight that greets anyone who deems to watch the video attached to this post. It lasts about thirty seconds, as Voldemort allows the camera to take in the scene of the crime, but most importantly: the body. It only takes in the scene, and does not show any footage of Voldemort himself, but rather Snape and his room.
The first thing anyone would notice is the lighting. Even in the daylight, the room is dark and while the bracelet has adjusted to the lighting, the closed curtains keep it from being fully illuminated. Plants hang from the ceiling, in various states of drying and curing, a fair number of them. Books line shelves among jars of insects. Voldemort has not touched anything, has only arrived and filmed it upon entering.]
[Now that she was no longer living in the Hel House herself Leeloo had to make the trip from Thor there, still wrought with worry about her inability to speak. Always calculated and cold, she thought that Snape might have some answers or maybe a plan that could help matters. He was blunt to the point of hurtful and while most would find that unsettling Leeloo took it as a sign of respect as that was how she’d always been with others that she’d been close to, the Modoshawans especially.
She isn’t expecting to find his door slightly ajar, the crack between the jamb and the hallway not so much as casting a strip of light over the carpet. With the dead quiet she knows something has to be wrong. It would be unlike him to leave it unlocked let alone open. She pushes through, if he was there she’d take his foul mood for what it was. It might even be easier to deal with since the tongue lashing wouldn’t be present.
There’s a gasp of breath that gets knocked out of her at what she sees. Severus, with his chest cavity surgically opened and his heart missing and a young man looming over him with his recording device.
She jumps to conclusions. Grabbing a book off the nearest shelf to hurl at the boy’s head.]
[Thud is the last thing the video feed hears, because the next moment he’s switched it off.]
Severus is pacing his room in Hel, hands fidgeting together with quiet apprehension as he walks back and forth with slow but tense steps when he hears the knock. He stops in his tracks and looks over at the door. He watches it. Waits. Another knock.
Well, now, who would be paying him a visit at this hour of night? More importantly… how is he possibly going to speak to them? He absently lifts a hand and clutches at his throat before anxiously running a finger along his lower lip. The earthquake that had hit Asgard earlier, the sudden loss of his voice… Perhaps he is being too paranoid but he can't help but think the two are somehow connected, and it's setting his teeth right on edge.
The knock sounds again. A nervous flare of irritation ignites in him and he starts for the door. A glare fixed on his face, he reaches the door, turns the door handle and yanks it open, a hand ready to furiously shoo the person away.
The first thing he sees are the smiles. Toothy, terrifying smiles with glistening metallic teeth, and beady, dark eyes peering down at him with calm, sinister glee. His irritation gives way to confusion at first as the two bald men look at each other and make an almost pantomime show of looking at each other while polite applauding the other with a silent clap of their spindly, spider-like hands.
And then they turn their macabre smiles frozen on their ghastly faces back on Severus. He takes a step backwards, feeling horribly naked and vulnerable without his wand and without his magic, and they take a graceful step forward. Nay, not a step, Severus realises; they're gliding towards him, like ghosts, feet hovering about foot above the ground.
Quick as a flash, he goes to slam the door on them but he's too slow, or they're too quick: they suddenly seize him in their hands and Severus is dragged into the room, the door quietly closing with a soft snick in the latch. He struggles with all his might against them, even tries to summon everything within his power of Body Control to make the ghoul-like men let him go, to no avail.
Dread and terror-fuelled adrenalin rush through his veins as one of the men produces a small, shiny metallic knife. And before he can do anything, the knife is suddenly plunged into his chest. He lets out a silent scream of pain, head thrown back, tendons in his neck stretched taut like cable lines.
He feels everything: the searing slice of skin and muscle being severed by the scalpels, his clothes being torn open on his chest, cold fingers prodding him, moving with deft ease as they pry away muscle and sinew. The crack of his sternum. The sickening crunch of his ribs snapping. Cool air hitting his gaping chest. Pain so blinding, so exquisitely harrowing, that it's enough to almost make him pass out.
His body jerks and twists with agony under the silent carnage, arms flailing with spiralling listlessness, legs and feet kicking on the floor in an almost seizure-like manner. His breaths become short, rapid, wheezy, like the squealing of a pig that's had its windpipe slit. A death rattle gargles at the back of his throat, saliva and blood frothing out of his mouth. All the while, the men grin down at him with eerie, malicious calm.
One of them applauding the other with another polite, silently animated golf-clap is the last thing Severus sees before his eyes glaze over. He takes a final gurgling, wheezing breath and then… nothing. Just his fingers and feet twitching in the aftershocks of nerves still firing in his spinal chord while he stares with lifeless terror at the ceiling. One of the men lifts Severus' heart from his chest cavity, dripping with blood and dangling with severed arteries and muscles, while the other applauds him again with polite eagerness and blood-soaked hands.
Not more than a few minutes later, they're gone, the door closing quietly behind them while they glide like ghosts down the hallway.]
---
Severus Snape is dead.[Voldemort had arrived at Hel House with the intention of not leaving until Snape, the traitor, had suffered. The all-encompassing silence... It had been like a sign to him, a sign that he could strike and no one would be the wiser. Sound certainly still existed, but screams... Those pesky vocal, guttural sounds that escape when the body experiences pain... Without a means to silence through magic, they would prove an obstacle. And yet, with voices lost, a chance arose and he did not intend to waste it. What he didn't expect to find, however, was the deed already done, was the man mangled and the corpse's heart hollowed out.
Which is exactly the sight that greets anyone who deems to watch the video attached to this post. It lasts about thirty seconds, as Voldemort allows the camera to take in the scene of the crime, but most importantly: the body. It only takes in the scene, and does not show any footage of Voldemort himself, but rather Snape and his room.
The first thing anyone would notice is the lighting. Even in the daylight, the room is dark and while the bracelet has adjusted to the lighting, the closed curtains keep it from being fully illuminated. Plants hang from the ceiling, in various states of drying and curing, a fair number of them. Books line shelves among jars of insects. Voldemort has not touched anything, has only arrived and filmed it upon entering.]
[Now that she was no longer living in the Hel House herself Leeloo had to make the trip from Thor there, still wrought with worry about her inability to speak. Always calculated and cold, she thought that Snape might have some answers or maybe a plan that could help matters. He was blunt to the point of hurtful and while most would find that unsettling Leeloo took it as a sign of respect as that was how she’d always been with others that she’d been close to, the Modoshawans especially.
She isn’t expecting to find his door slightly ajar, the crack between the jamb and the hallway not so much as casting a strip of light over the carpet. With the dead quiet she knows something has to be wrong. It would be unlike him to leave it unlocked let alone open. She pushes through, if he was there she’d take his foul mood for what it was. It might even be easier to deal with since the tongue lashing wouldn’t be present.
There’s a gasp of breath that gets knocked out of her at what she sees. Severus, with his chest cavity surgically opened and his heart missing and a young man looming over him with his recording device.
She jumps to conclusions. Grabbing a book off the nearest shelf to hurl at the boy’s head.]
[Thud is the last thing the video feed hears, because the next moment he’s switched it off.]
text.
text.
Exactly. We're beginning to see a troubling pattern.text.
text.
I filmed the scene as soon as I found it, and I have no idea how long prior to my arrival this incident occurred. I have not had any first hand experience with this sort of situation... How quick is "quickly"?text.
text.
Then perhaps something is already not right, aside from the obvious. If I have arrived so close to the incident... I saw no signs of a perpetrator.text.
text.
Do you believe this to be the work of such a creature?text.
text.
Creatures such as these... Are there any who call Asgard their home, or is it that the city's defenses are wanting?text.
text.
You believe there is a possibility that whatever did this... came from another world? Although in manner dissimilar to our own.text.
text.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but from what you are saying... these creatures are able to exist here, to possess the abilities they had in their native worlds, remaining effectively as they were without any need of alteration?text.
text.
They claim we cannot exist with our powers, and yet these creatures' existence contradicts their statement.[His mind is racing, now, working a theory. The gods must need them connected... And thus take away their powers in order to properly draw on their life energy all the more, perhaps?]
Whatever the case, it begs for explanation.text.
text.
And yet they can afford to do so, as their goal aligns with our own so completely they know we will take up their cause no matter how pleasant or unpleasant they are towards our questions, as the alternative is unacceptable.