A Perfect Slave

The idea just came up to me. I decided to mix up X-men and Harry Potter together, only I took a little bit unique approach on the whole story. The story is about Alyssa Atkins, a 16 year old girl, finally discovering that she is a mutant! Voldemort decides to celebrate Dumbledore’s death, and orders Lucius to bring some muggles for fun and torture. Look and find out what will happen when the dark Lord discovers Alyssa’s secret talent. Oh, he’s gonna use it, he’s gonna use it for good!

Chapter 1: The Dark Lord and a Mutant

Dim moonlight stroked my face as I slowly entered the sense of consciousness. Blur images of tree branches, lane, and an iron gate quickly passed my eyes. I felt tired and sleepy. I didn’t think I had the strength to walk; my legs were numb, I couldn’t feel a thing, but yet I was somehow approaching the dark outline of a manor. As I raised my head to take a better look at the magnificent building, I suddenly became aware of two iron grips on my arms. They were dragging me towards the gate paying no attention to me. I felt like a plastic doll being pulled by a reckless child; knees brushing against the ground, a burning tingle already surrounding the fronts of my legs, even though I was wearing jeans. I wondered for how long I’ve been carelessly dragged like this. The second thing that entered my mind was “why am I even being dragged?” “What did I do?” and “What’s gonna happen to me?” quickly became known to my frightened state of mind, causing a knot to build up in my throat.

I looked at my right arm and noticed a completely unfamiliar to me hand, keeping me in one place, pale fingers digging into the fabric of my white long sleeves shirt. I heard a moan not even three feet away from me. My head automatically turned to the sound’s direction, and I froze (well, I would have frozen if the two hands weren’t still dragging me). My sister – usually strong, cheerful, and energetic – looked fragile and defeated. Her head lifelessly hang between her shoulders as the dark figure roughly pulled her body. It wore a long black … robe, with long pointy cap and creepy skeleton mask. First I thought it was a member of the KKK or something, but after remembering that KKK’s wore white cloaks I immediately threw the idea out of my head.

The moan I heard just seconds ago disturbed the silence once again. “Shut up, you stupid muggle!” a female’s voice roared right before I heard a slap. I gasped seeing my mother cry out in pain; her face had a fresh scratch on the left cheek stained with blood, probably caused by a ring.

“Mom?” I uttered completely forgetting about two powerful hands still dragging me towards the dark mansion. It looked completely consumed by darkness, and not because it was the middle of a night and the only source of light was the thin crescent of a moon, but because it held this dark aura, as if it was haunted by a very evil spirit. The mansion was surrounded by midnight garden, and through continuous footsteps I heard what seemed to be water, perhaps a fountain.

As soon as I called for my mother, the pale hand on my right arm tightened its grip, further digging its sharp nails into my skin. I hissed. The figure stopped and let go of my right side; the person on the left still held on to me but stopped walking so I was kneeling on the ground now, since I still had no strength to support myself. I looked up at the tall dark shadow before me. It had the same black robe, a long cap, and a mask as all the others. I couldn’t make up the face, nor its approximate shape, but I was seventy percent sure that the figure was a male, a tall, wide shouldered man.

He looked down at me for what seemed to be forever, but of course it was only a few seconds. Suddenly the man stepped closer to me, his hand stretching itself in my direction, into my face. I flinched and tried to break away, but the other person, holding my left arm, forced me to stay down on the ground.

“No! Don’t hurt her!” I heard my mother yell trying to free herself, but the woman that slapped her before only slapped her again, making my mom cry more than she did before. She was on the ground now too beneath other two figures, including the woman and what seemed to be another male. My sister’s unconscious body came into my eyesight; another figure was holding her, a male as well.

The wide shouldered man stepped even closer to me, being only a foot away. He cupped my chin roughly into his pale hand and turned my face side to side as if examining my features. I was scared. I didn’t not know what he wanted from me, and I dared not to look directly into his creepy mask nor to make a sound.

“What is it now, Lucius?” the woman who slapped my mom cried out in annoyance. She took off her long pointy cap and her mask, and I could see her bushy curly hair in the corner of my eyes. As soon as I turned my head to examine the woman’s creepy crazy outlook, the man named Lucius swung my face around to meet his.

“Yes, the Dark Lord would be pleased,” I heard his dark silky voice behind the skeleton mask. “Black hair, orange eyes, pale skin, slender young body…” the man broke off and lowered his masked face to the lower part of my body. I couldn’t help but feel disgust, and fear ran through me. I hoped with all my heart that he and this “Dark Lord” wouldn’t do anything perverted to me.

Lucius let go of my face and pushed my massy loose braids back. He trailed the back of his long pale fingers against the sensitive skin of my neck. I shivered and flinched from his touch.

“Come on, Malfoy! The Dark Lord wouldn’t be pleased if we’re late!” the man holding my sister uttered; she was still unconscious.

“Relax, Dolohov, the manor is right there, though you’re right. We should hurry. Don’t want to keep the Lord waiting,” replied the man named Lucius. He grabbed my right arm again and gestured for everyone to start walking.

I was dragged once again more roughly than before. My mom was still sobbing and looking in my direction, my big sister was still passed out, and I had no idea who the men in black robes were. I didn’t know why and how I got in the situation like this.

The gates of the manor looked still and dull. We stopped, and each of our captors raised and disrobed their left arms showing some sort of tattoo. The gates opened, and I was forced to move forward, my knees scratching against the gravel, painfully opening the wounds. We approached the front door and it opened by itself almost like in the supermarket.

Who are this people? What do they want from us? Only now the images from last night—or the night before, I really did not know for how long I was out—appeared in my mind. My family -- mom, dad, and Veronica, my big sister—was just ready to go to bed after my sister’s small-family-birthday govering. Then we all heard an explosion which set our house on fire. Dad had a gun and wounded one of the masked intruders; now focusing my mind on that night I remember that it was a woman. My heart skipped a beat… That bitch killed my father! She killed him! I don’t know how, she just pointed something at him and yelled two strange words in anger, and then my father lay dead on the floor. I’ll never forget this moment. I tried to run to him, beg for him to wake up, but his face was still, and his eyes held complete nothingness in them. The next thing I could remember was that I wasn’t able to move an inch. Then by some invisible force I was dragged outside my house, as I am being dragged right now, and I heard clearly “Stupify” and “Mobilicorpus.” Those were my last memories. What these two words mean I have no idea, but I passed out after I heard them.

Everyone stepped inside the mansion. The hallway was large with a magnificent carpet covering most of the floor. The place was dimly lit and had many portraits on its walls. The pictures seemed to be… moving? I stared in shock, my mouth open, and eyes wide. The people were watching us, especially me, my sister, and my mom, who now stopped sobbing. I noticed a man in long green robes, white hair, and pointy nose on the wall, staring down at me, snorting and looking at me with disgust. I didn’t know what was his problem, so I just looked somewhere else. “Stupid, filthy muggles,” I heard the portrait say. I was more than shocked now, no, I was terrified. I had no idea what was going on. The pictures could talk! What the hell? This must be a trick.

The man named Lucius strode, throwing me near a heavy wooden door leading into some other room. Everyone removed their masks and long pointy caps as if given a command. Now I could clearly see my captors. Lucius had long – and I mean long—blond, no, almost white hair, dark eyebrows, pointy face, and eagle-like nose. His skin was pale and would’ve held the sign of perfection if it wasn’t for dark circles under his eyes. The only woman in the creepy “gang” was the most terrifying of all. She had long bushy curly hair, black eyes, sickly pale skin, long sharp nails, and “ready-to-kill” face. The man who still held my sister – I believe he was called Dolohov before – looked middle-aged, somewhere around forty maybe more. His black hair was messy pass his shoulders, and he tried to comb them with his fingers. He was staring in my direction; brown eyes on me, evil smirk appearing on his face, making me shudder from fear. His nose was long and pointy, and his facial hair appeared only on his manly chin and of course eyebrows. Then there were two other men that looked extremely alike. They both had dark brown-red hair, bushy eyebrows, straight noses, curly hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin. I thought they were brothers or something. One of them was gripping my arm not even looking down at me, while another roughly pulled my mom on her knees groaning at her in pure annoyance and anger.

Lucius hesitated for some moment in front of the wooden door, but finally turned the bronze handle. The large, what seemed to be, ball-room was full of people in robes as well, mostly green and silver colored. Some were dancing the waltz, others were chatting with each other, and some were laughing. Everyone seemed to stop when they finally noticed our presence. I felt as if we weren’t’ welcome or something.

“Well, well, well, Lucius. What do you have for me here?” I heard a cold voice coming from the other end of the room. I was kneeling on the floor in front of all people, but not because I wasn’t strong enough to stand up, no… because Lucius pushed me down and dug his fingers inside my shoulder; I didn’t even try to fight, knowing that it was useless to resist. I looked up to find a throne-like sit, and there… oh, god! The man looked…. Horrible! Completely terrifying! His skin was even paler than Lucius’s, I mean, he looked like corpse! The shape of his eyes weren’t human! They were wide and red; even from a distance I could see he did not have a nose, he was bold, and creepy looking. I shuddered from fear as he turned his head in my direction, and I immediately looked at the floor, trying my best to avoid the stare of the red eyes.

“Muggles, Milord, as you ordered,” replied Lucius bowing his head to the man—if you even can call the pale creature a man-- on the “throne.” There was silence in the room, quite uncomfortable one, I believe. I turned my head to look at my mother still keeping my head low. She too noticed the ugly white monster across the room and looked terrified. Her usually soft brown eyes now held fear in them, complete despair and shock. Her wavy short hair was a mass and she looked horrible; her make-up was all over her face, mascara mixed with trails of tears aging her even more. My sister seemed to be able to sit up on her own on the floor. Her blue eyes now wide open with shock, as she looked at her surroundings. Her eyes met mine, and I already knew that she was about to speak, but I quickly gestured to stay quiet and unnoticeable.

“I asked for four, Lucius, and you brought only three,” the “Lord” finally spoke, hint of anger in his voice. There was silence; Lucius looked as if he was ready for something terrible to happen.

“I killed the fourth one, Milord. He tried to fight back, actually wounding me, and I ended up murdering him to satisfy my anger,” the crazy looking woman who stood near my mom spoke, bowing before her lord. I quickly understood that she was talking about my dad. I sent her an angry look when she wasn’t looking and continued staring at her back, while she walked a little closer to the pale’s man direction. And what is all this “muggle” crap? What the hell is that supposed to mean? “I couldn’t control myself, Milord, I just couldn’t believe that a muggle would actually…” she proceeded but was cut off by a white hand raised in the air.

“Bellatrix, I cannot believe you let your guard down and allowed a filthy muggle wound you! A non-magical being hurt you! Shame, Bella. And you call yourself a Death Eater!” the lord held some sort of amusement in his deep cold voice. I think he enjoyed making… Bella-- or whatever her name is—uncomfortable. Waite… Did he say “non-magical being?” Magic? Are you serious? Maybe they call some sort of drug this way, because I could clearly see some of the people in the room had pale faces and very thin bodies. They were definitely on drugs. And what’s up with the “Death Eater” name? Is this some sort of club? Like KKK or something. Maybe they were prejudiced against… well, I don’t know… Bulgarians? Because my mom’s parents were Bulgarians and they migrated to England long before my mom was even born, so… We kind of look like Bulgarians.

Bellatrix said nothing to her lord, and he gestured for her to step aside; she obeyed without a question. The pale humanlike creature looked in my direction again, and once again I looked at the floor. Lucius was still standing beside me, but his grip on my shoulder was even tighter now, hurting me more and more; I knew I would get bruises there for sure. The only people standing beside me, my mom, and my sister were one of the two brothers, who kept my mother to the floor, the man named Dolohov, and of course Lucius; others seemed to blend in with the crowd in the large room.

Suddenly, “The Lord” stood up and walked in my direction, holding in his hand what seemed to be a stick, the same one that bitch had when she killed my dad! I immediately became aware that the man was gonna hurt me and my family, and I felt a wave of fear run through me, my heart beating thousand beats a minute. My knees shook on the floor, and I set on the back of my snickers, putting my hands on the ground for support.

The Lord stopped like five meters away from us, pointing the stick at us. I prepared to die just like my father, and closed my eyes tears starting to appear at the thought of never seeing my loved ones ever again. When nothing happened, I opened my left eye to peek at what was happening. The Lord seemed to be amused looking into my face. I couldn’t understand why, so I sent him a questioning look.

“Tell me, muggle, do you know who I am?” the pale freak uttered in cold voice. Lucius immediately stepped aside letting go of my hurt shoulder. I figured the lord was talking to me, so I looked up and answered a soft “no.”

“And yet you fear me,” the tall, pale man replied smirking evilly and then suddenly frowning, “You should.”

The man turned to everybody else in the room. “This celebration tonight, my loyal followers, represents our final defeat of Dumbledore. Let us then enjoy our party by torturing and killing this disgraceful filth! For muggles do not deserve to live.” The people in the room seem to smile and agree nodding their heads in admiration to their “lord.”

“And now, I will give the honor to my most trustful follower to do whatever he pleases with this filth,” uttered the red-eyed man, who actually looked like a snake. I can’t believe I was being called filth! “Severus, come here.”

A man in black robes strode to his lord and bowed his head. He looked at my mother first who was completely terrified when she heard that all three of us were about to be tortured. It brought tears to my eyes just to see her helpless hurt look, the look of pure despair.

Man named Severus only nodded in his lord’s direction and raised a stick, which from closer look seemed to be… a wand? No, only witches had wands or some other magical fairies in fairytales. But it looked exactly like from my childhood books.

The “wand” was pointed at my mom, who started crying once again. “Crucio,” Severus said very calmly. The red lighting came out of the end of his “wand” and hit my mother in the chest. She fell to the floor screaming and squirming, her arms and legs shaking; she looked completely in pain.

“Mom!” I cried out and was ready to stand by her side, but the same red lighting coming out of the lord’s “wand” caught my attention. I was prepared to be in pain too, but nothing happened. I heard Veronica’s cry, echoing the entire room. She was on the cold floor too squirming, and crying. I couldn’t help but sob seeing the rest of my family like this. I didn’t know whom to come to, my mother or my sister. I set numb not knowing what to do or how to act. Anger, despair, sadness, and fear ran through me at once, and I couldn’t hold in loud “Stop it! Stop hurting them!” But nothing happened.

“I want you to watch, you filthy muggle! Watch as your loved ones are tortured and killed!” the lord yelled smirking, evil sadistic look in his eyes. I cried like never before. I begged for him to stop, told him that I would do anything to keep my family alive, but he only said that since I was “a dirty stinking muggle” I had no uses for him, just cheep “sadistic entertainment.”

The man named Severus seemed to be done with my mother; she was still shaking on the floor, breathing heavily. The Lord stopped his torturing as well, pointing his “wand” at me now. My heart skipped a beat as I realized that it was my turn to experience the awful pain; at least my family was safe now. I shot my eyes again prepared for the red lighting to come, but instead I felt myself crawl closer to the lord’s feet. I couldn’t stop myself; I didn’t know why I was moving, but maybe it had to do with the pale snake-like man pointing his “wand” at me.

I was forced to look up at the man standing before me. He placed his “wand” under my chin digging its end deep into my skin. I was shaking with fear as the red eyes locked with mine; they dived into my mind and my sole, I almost felt naked before him.

“Do you know what this is, muggle?” the Lord uttered showing me his “wand” and flipping it between his long pale fingers.

“A wand?” I took a guess trying to break the eye contact with the sneak-like man, but some force was holding me in place and I couldn’t move a bit, not even with my eyes. The man looked a little surprised but quickly smirked at me amused even more.

“Yes, a wand. Do you know what it makes me?” he proceeded maliciously looking at me. I didn’t want to be near this man; there was something very strange about him, something in the look of his eye that just made me uncontrollably shudder with fear. I decided once again to take a guess. Well, since only magical creatures had wands, then he is a … “Wizard?” I replied looking the lord straight in the eyes. His smile widened.

“Yes, a wizard. I can make you cry out in pain, just like I made your family. I can kill them with only a wave of my wand, control their dead bodies, oh, I can make so many great things with just this piece of wood,” he pointed the wand at me again, its end digging into my left cheek. “You wonna see?” The lord moved his wand in my mom’s direction and cried out “Avada Kadavra!”

A shock ran through me, as the green light struck my mom’s chest. She was still and … dead. Just like my father. “NOOOO!” I burst crying crawling to the dead body. I held my mom’s hand in mine saying “please, wake up, please, wake up,” just like before with my dad, but I knew this time she was dead. Tears blinded my vision; I could not see anything anymore. I brushed my mom’s still worm hand against my cheek saying my last “I love you, mom,” before I started crying again, and yelling “You, bastard!” at the pale man, who just smiled at me enjoying every second of my sorrow.

At this point I did not know what I was feeling. Hate, rage, love, fear, despair, sorrow, and hope were all inside of me. I have never felt anything like this. I needed to let everything out because I knew if I didn’t I would just burst like a swollen balloon, and so I let my every emotion out at the same time. I felt as if a part of me was gone, I yelled and screamed and punched the floor with my fists thinking that by expressing everything that I felt would somehow help me. As more and more emotions came, the more I felt that something was leaving me, as if someone was tearing a small part of my soul from my body. I do not know for how long I continued to punch the floor and cry in hate, rage, and despair, but I eventually stopped. I looked up at the red-eyed man, almost telling him to kill me too, because I did not want to live anymore. I knew he would kill me, I just knew it!

But he seemed stunned as everybody else in the large room. He was shocked and he looked at me in disbelieve. It took me a while to notice… seven duplications of myself standing on my right and left, almost protecting me and ready to fight back. What the…? How? I looked closely, thinking it was a trick, but it wasn’t. Each girl had the same clothes, hair, face, and body as I did. It was unbelievable.

Each one of the girls looked the same and different. One had a look of pure hatred towards the pale lord; another was scared and hiding behind the angry clone. There were total of seven of them and, looking closely at each of the girls, I recognized every emotion I felt just seconds ago. One was protectively standing by my side, as if devoted to protect me till death; I assumed she must have been “Love.” Another was crying, muttering “We’re all gonna die,” and holding on another me, who only soothed her, saying “It’s gonna be okay.” I recognized “Hope” and “Despair.” “Fear” and “Hate” stood closely together. “Hate” looked as if she was ready to kill everybody in the room, especially the pail lord. “Fear” was just standing behind her. There were only two who mostly stood out: “Rage” and “Sorrow.” “Rage” was growling at the pale snake-man. She was red-faced and crazy, maybe even crazier than that ugly witch Bellatrix. I was more scared of her than of the pale lord himself! “Sorrow” had a cry of hysteria. She did not stay by my side; instead she kneeled before my mom and my sister crying in inner pain and, well, sorrow.

I did not understand what was going on. The lord seemed puzzled, but soon enough he smiled maliciously at me and turned around to the shocked crowd of people. He eyed many of them and stopped his gaze at pale scared Lucius.

“Isn’t this interesting, Lucius?” the Lord coolly uttered smiling at his follower, “You have finally pleased me. What you’ve brought me here is a ‘perfect slave.’”

My eyes widened. A what?! A perfect slave?! A slave?! “Rage” and “Hate” looked completely disgusted muttering something like “stupid perve” or “stupid boldie.” I just wished that they would shut up; I didn’t want to anger the pale freak – only God knew what this creature was capable of in his fury.

“Milord?” replied Lucius looking quite shocked himself, “Do you really believe that this muggle… muggles could be…”

“Are questioning my authority, Lucius?” the Lord cut of the blond man with the wave of his hand. Lucius instantly became quiet and nervous.

“No, Milord,” he replied again ready for something bad to happen. I wondered if this Lord tortured his followers just the same as he tortured my family. The Lord turned to me and came closer. The circle of seven “me” got closer, but was instantly thrown aside with a wave of the pale man’s wand. They were now lying on the floor frozen by the invisible force. I could feel no hate, nor fear, nor despair, nor hope, nor rage when the man approached me and roughly -- just like Lucius-- grabbed my face, examining and turning it side to side to take a better look. Red eyes stared into mine penetrating my soul, but I did not flinch this time. His face was close to mine and I could see that indeed the lord did not have a nose, just nose drills; he looked more like a snake even closer.

“Who are you? You’re certainly not a muggle, nor a witch, or a squib. How do you possess such power? The power of the great wizards?” the Lord spoke quietly so only my sister, my clones, and I could hear him.

“I don’t know,” I answered boldly and truthfully. I honestly did not know how I “duplicated” myself. This whole thing just seemed to be a dream now. I mean, wizards, witches, magic, talking portraits, and now this! I must be dreaming.

“You speak the truth,” replied the Lord looking deeply into my eyes, “Perhaps you sister might know the answer.” The man strode towards Veronica, a sense of panic ran through me, no, not fear, but panic; I did not know what he was about to do with her. The crowd seemed more than shocked, puzzled with their lord’s behavior. I guess he doesn’t usually act this way.

“No! Don’t hurt her!” cried my “Fear.” “If you even touch her, I swear you’ll regret it!” yelled out my hate. “Rage” just growled and tried to break free from the “magical” bonds that held her, but all in vale.

“Tell me, muggle. I know you know what she is!” commanded the Lord sending a very familiar red light into my sister’s chest. She cried out in pain again, but the torture continued for only few seconds.

“A mutant! She’s a mutant!” cried out Veronica breathing heavily, her arms and legs shaking on the floor. My every “clone” looked puzzled and so did I. The Lord did not understand anything either; I didn’t think he knew what mutant meant. It meant I was a freak! A monster with a mutated DNA.

“WHAT?! No! I’m not!” Panic ran through me and I experienced the same feeling of somebody ripping a part of my soul away from me. Before I could even blink another clone stood before me, a look of complete panic on its face. This couldn’t be happening! No, I am not… no!

I was kneeling on the cold floor watching my sister breathe heavily. How did she know? How could she even know? Silence was in the big room, except for continuous whispers between the crowd and Veronica’s cries.

“Whatever the girl is, she will be very useful…” announced the Lord grabbing my face again and digging his long nails into sensitive skin near my ears, “As a slave!” The crowd started talking now; many were shocked and displeased, others --like the man named Dolohov who smirked evilly at me before we entered the ballroom—seemed to be very excited. A sex slave?

“Bring the girl into my bedroom. Her other ‘selves’ would be passed around my most trustful followers,” I heard the pale Lord say as he let go of my face once again. I was forced to stand up. Lucius took me by my arm and dragged me out of the ballroom. “Alyssa! Alyssa!” I heard my sister cry out for me as the heavy wooden door closed behind me and the blond man.

“You’re one lucky muggle, you little bitch!” he spat out and pushed me forward in front of him. Behind the walls I heard my sister cry out in agony, and then there was a complete silence. Tears blinded my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. I almost knew that bastard killed her, just like my mother.