The Evil Inside
The Evil Inside
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alone in the
something moving in the darkness behind him. He heard nothing from the forest
floor, no branches cracking or leaves being crushed, but he saw the hooded
figure and it had its wand raised he could hear something being mumbled from
underneath the black hood and the Deatheater mask and
suddenly….He was falling and falling and then….nothing.
start, and sat straight up in his bed covered in a layer of cold sweat and
breathing heavily. This is not the first time he had this particular
was a little bit more added to it. This time he could have sworn he smelled a
woman’s perfume lingering on the air before all had turned dark. He wondered if
he actually was killed in these dreams, or just cursed beyond all recognition,
all he knew is that he wanted to know more.
‘woman’ Deatheater? In his years as a
she smelled so sweet, and innocent, not a Deatheater
smell at all. Deatheaters were tainted, even though
their blood might be pure, their souls were black and
rotten. Female Deatheaters always seemed to smell of
sex and blood, never flowers or fruit essences. He was definitely confused, so
he went into the shower to wash off the sweat, as well as take care of the
erection that was created by thinking of the innocent, sweet creature that
particular smell must belong to.
shower and put on his best teaching robes, he made his way to the Great Hall
for breakfast. As he walked by the Gryffindor table, he stopped and realized
that there was an all to familiar smell coming from
one bushy haired know-it-all. He turned around to get a better smell and she
caught his eye, she smiled innocently, and he scowled menacingly. He stalked up
to the High Table wondering where he had smelled that smell before.