This is the story of one of the Inferi that guarded Voldemort's locket horcrux in the cave. Yes, I took a few creative liberties, but I hope people like it. It's kind of long, but please tell me what te think.
The last thing I remember from my precedente life is Lord Voldemort, the words “Avada Kedavra”, and then a flash of green light. Then blackness.
Everything was black, there was nothing, I was just sinking in darkness, I don’t know how long, until suddenly, I was back, and Lord Voldemort was still there, pointing a wand at me.
I know he was the guy that killed me, but I suddenly could not help but like him very much. I also had a strong desire to do his bidding.
I also had a funny urge to bow down at his feet and call him “master”, which I also did.
A voice in the back of my head commanded me to step closer to him, and I did.
I realized that I wasn’t the only one there, and I saw several other people surrounding Lord Voldemort, who had a nasty, sick sort of smile on his face, which instead of finding terrifying o repulsive, I rather liked. Some of the others were bowing down as I had, but for some reason, I couldn’t count them. All I could do at the moment was focus on how much I liked and wanted to aid Lord Voldemort. I do remember that it was a large number though.
The people were strange. They all had blank looks in their eyes, and had a zombie-like appearance, and many of them had various odd injuries and wore dirty, ragged clothes. Some I wondered how they were even still alive, especially one man, who had what appeared to be a car steering wheel sticking out of his chest.
I couldn’t move, because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that Lord Voldemort,-or the Dark Lord, as I had a sudden wish to think of him as-, didn’t want me too.
I was also dimly remembering that I had been hit with what had seemed to be a killing curse, but how could that be, when I was obviously still alive, right?
Suddenly, I was spinning and whirling through air, and when I felt solid ground again, I was standing in a gigantic, dark cavern at the edge of a huge lake, in the center of which was a small island with something tall and bright on it.
I suddenly knew that I had to climb into the lake, and that I had to defend the Island in the event of any intruders.
A small thought appeared in my clouded brain like a tiny spark as I was pushed and jostled da all the others, who were also getting into the water.
How would I breathe underwater? I suddenly was aware that I hadn’t been breathing. At all, ever since I had awoken to see the Dark Lord standing over me.
I also did not even register the fact that it was a bit fishy that I had been killed, brought back to life (I think), and was now stepping into a large green lake with what seemed to be a bunch of zombies.
As I stepped into the lake, I saw that we were not the first people to be sent to guard the Island; the green water was full of many other people floating in it. One of them stirred a long forgotten memory, but my mind was blank to anything other than small, immediate thoughts, and the wishes of the Dark Lord. I also saw my reflection.
Before I had been “killed” da the Dark Lord and found that my only desire was to do his bidding, I had not had blank, staring eyes, an odd, shuffling gait, dirty, ragged clothes, and I had most definitely not been covered in scrapes and bruises and most definitely not carrying what appeared to be a coffin lid.
I ended up floating several inches from the surface of the water, close to the Island, and still clutching my coffin lid.
I floated in a dreamy haze, for I didn’t know how long, time had little meaning in this place. I could only guess that the others were experiencing the same thing.
I knew that a small barca passed from the puntellare, riva to the island several times, but I felt no need to attack the boat, somehow I knew it was not a threat.
I knew somehow that when the need to defend the island would arise, I would know.
Only three such occasions have arisen in my recollection.
The first time, I was floating as usual, coffin lid clutched in my stiff hand. Several bubbles escaped my mouth, and my mind was blissfully blank, and I was dreamily floating, dazed.
The barely there ripples announced the boat, and my mind grew clearer, ready to attack if necessary.
Suddenly, I could almost think again. Because of the return of the boat, my mind was più alert, ready to attack at the slightest disturbance of the water.
The first thing I could hear was several odd whimpers and squeaks after the barca had landed at the Island.
A cold, hissing voice that I recognized as the Dark Lords, which sounded almost like Musica to my ears spoke, though I could not distinguish o understand the words.
There were several thuds and another squeak, which for the first time I realized was not human.
A short while later, I didn’t know how long, as time had no meaning to me, the screams began.
They were high pitched and unending, broken da only più thuds and squeaks, and the occasional splash, though nothing disturbed the surface of the water and gave the attack signal.
I enjoyed the screams, which were pleasant to hear. I knew that whatever was making them was probably in terrible pain, but that only made the screams più pleasant to hear. To me it was natural, though through a foggy haze in my mind, I could never remember enjoying screams of pain before.
My cold lips curled up in the first ever smile in my new life.
All too soon though, the screaming stopped, and was replaced da ugly whimpers and gasps.
With a merciless, cruel laugh that was almost as nice to listen to as the screams, there came a faint pop and the Dark Lord disappeared. I knew he had gone since it was as though a presence had been lifted from the water.
Suddenly, the water was disturbed and I could hear slurping noises. It was time to attack. For the first time in my life, I wanted to kill.
I forced my way to the island, and clawed my way up the rocks, dripping water. I almost stopped in shock at what I saw there. Crouched on the rock was a homely creature dressed in a ragged pillowcase that I faintly knew to be a house-elf. My surprise didn’t slow me down though, and I kept walking.
The house-elf looked terrified. It was moaning as me and my fellows drew closer to it.
I reached it first, and I could feel a small smirk playing on my cold, wet lips. I grabbed it and began beating it over the head with my coffin lid as I dragged it towards the water.
My fellows had grabbed it as well, and in the back of my mind I found it faintly comical that we were all swarming the island over this pathetic little creature.
It was surprisingly enjoyable, hurting the elf, and its screams and moans were pleasant to hear as we dragged it closer and closer to the edge of the Island.
I had succeeded in dragging it under and was just imagining how its flesh would taste when suddenly, with a loud crack, it vanished.
A small glimmer of shock was in my mind when suddenly I was propelled back to my spot underwater and everything went blank again.
The secondo time, the dreamy haze I floated in when not called to attack was so deep that I barely registered the barca floating over me.
It was almost a shock when the water was disturbed and my mind was again clear.
I clawed my way up to the island again.
Something in the back of my mind registered that the house-elf on the island was very familiar, but then I was distracted da the wizard that had accompanied him.
I barely noticed the house-elf disappear again, as I had grabbed the wizard da the hair, and was quite enjoying beating it with my coffin lid as I dragged it to the water.
When I reached the waters edge, many più cold and slimy hands reached up to help me pull him in. In the back of my mind I was hoping he wouldn’t disappear as the elf had, and my wish was granted.
The wizard struggled feebly as we dragged him under, and I closed my fingers around his throat.
My mouth curled into a smile as I watched him suffocate and finally drown.
All too soon though, the fun was over, and everything went blank and hazy. Before sinking into the blankness, I was dimly aware that I had Lost my coffin lid.
This time, it was not the barca that alerted me to visitors, this final, terrifying time.
One second, my mind was a blank haze, the successivo second, I was flying through the air in an arc before dropping with a splash back into the water, in the same spot.
It was obvious that someone had tried a summoning charm to try and get at the treasure on the island. A smirk played at my lips, and my newly cleared mind was excited, and I knew that it was intruders, and I’d hopefully be able to drag another screaming victim into the water. This time, I waited with anticipation. Bated breath, if I was able to breathe.
Unlike usually, however, I heard some sounds of conversation, muted da the water. Before too long though, the usual moans began.
I felt a spark that was almost happiness; I’d be summoned soon again. Before long, I heard splashing noises.
This time when I made my way up to the island, I was greeted da an unusual sight. An old wizard with long, white hair was keeled over da the basin, and the one who had summoned us da touching the water appeared to be a teenager, about my age before I’d been killed, with dark hair and an odd scar on his forehead.
I felt something, which was unusual for me ever since I’d started this odd new life. The feeling almost seemed to be pity, possible a hint of regret, though I wasn’t certain. It definitely wasn’t enough to stop me from attacking them, but it made me falter for a moment.
All the while as my fellows and I had climbed onto the rock, the boy had been screaming in horror, yelling words that I couldn’t make out, pointing his wand at us. If I could feel, I might have laughed at his foolishness, what good were spells when there were so many of us, all swarming the rock at the same time?
I saw some of my fellows dropping, stiff as boards, o falling, bound da ropes. A jet of light hit me, slashing open my chest, which made my stumble, but did nothing-I couldn’t feel pain, and my cold body had no blood to spill.
I was among the first to reach the boy, and da that time, all feelings had been forgotten, I wanted to kill. I wanted to get this boy, this foolish one who thought he could fight us. I wanted to tear him apart, taste his flesh, watch his blood spill into the water, making a scarlet nube, nuvola in the gloom.
I grabbed him da the throat and was just starting to drag him off the rock when the explosion began.
I felt it before I saw it, the heat that could only be fire. It spread around me, and I felt for the first time ever since I’d been here. Terror. It almost felt good to feel once more.
I stumbled backwards, surrounded da heat and light. I was più scared than I’d ever been in any life. The fuoco spread, and I watched it consume some of my fellows who weren’t quick enough to get back to the water. It was an explosion of light, almost beautiful as the flames grew higher and higher, casting arancia, arancio light everywhere. The heat and the wind whipped my sodden, ragged clothing in all directions.
Half-running, half-slipping, I made it back to the water, just as the flames did the impossible; they spread over the surface of the water. As I sank back into the water, the usual fog settled over me, and the last thing I saw was the waters surface on fire, burning……..
After that, there was nothing. I don’t know how long it was, as I was floating in the usual haze. It might have been minutes, days, months, years.
Over the few times I’d been up at the island and had happened to see my own refection, I’d noticed that each time I’d deteriorated. My clothes had turned into little più that waterlogged rags, strips of skin, bloated with water hung off my thin frame, my hair was now a scraggly mess, and I’d Lost several fingers. Had I been human, I would have been horrified, disgusted, but as whatever I was now, I didn’t care. I looked upon myself with fascination, and even pride, at what seemed to be almost battle scars on my zombie-like body.
The last time I was pulled from the haze, I knew there was something wrong immediately. Pain. I could feel pain, right where my cuore would have been. It grew, hotter and hotter, like a fuoco consuming my chest. I could move, and I writhed in agony, not even realizing the important thing, I was feeling, truly feeling for the first time. As the pain died, my head came back to me. All I could think of was what I’d done. The odd inability to think that had begun with Voldemort standing in front of me was gone, and I could think, see, remember. Thinking of the horrible things I’d done, unable to control myself. The horrible murder at the island that I’d partaken in. If I could have, I would have wept, but I had no tears to shed, and I was still underwater. A feeling inside me told me that Voldemort was dead, but I didn’t know how I knew this with such certainty. Then, slowly, consumed da the mysterious fuoco and guilt, the water grew dark around me. My last conscious thought as I truly died and sank into blackness was one word, what I suddenly knew i'd been;