Being held captive by her deranged brother was not high on Miriam’s list of enjoyable ways to spend a day. In fact, it wasn’t on her list, period. A grim few days had passed, and though she had remained locked up inside a dingy, grubby room, subsiding on nothing but stale bread and water, she could only imagine the horrors her brother put Sophie and Marcella through when he captured them.
Lying down on the spare rags that had been placed for her inside the room, she wondered what her poor friends were feeling when it all happened. Scared probably didn't adequately cover it.
Miriam knew that if she had her wand, she would have a fighting chance of getting out, but alas, no. She'd gone through her pockets thoroughly, and her wand definitely wasn’t there anymore. Tom had taken it sometime when she was out cold. As she sat shivering, she closed her eyes and prayed that this was all just a bad nightmare - a horrible, yet vivid, nightmare.
Yes, she thought, that’s what this is. And when I wake up, I’m going to be home, my friends will be safe, and none of this will have ever happened.
A cold breeze swept through the tiny room sending a freezing chill down her spine, causing her to shudder from the cold.
Yes, it is all just a dream....
Unfortunately, no matter how hard to she hoped, she knew that it wasn’t a dream. It was very much real.
~*~
It was much later into the evening when Miriam awoke with a start. She had a crick in her neck, and her back was painfully stiff.
Unaware of the current time, and how long she had been asleep, Miriam realized that she must have dozed for at least a couple of hours, which accounted for her uncomfortable stiffness. Stretching out her arms in hopes of alleviating some of the pain, she let out a loud yawn and rubbed the back of her neck. She felt as though she had been crammed inside a tiny box.
“I hate you, Tom,” she grumbled, letting her mind slip into a five-minute mental berating of her brother. Though it did nothing to alleviate the pain, it put a small smile on her face.
A sound from outside the door snapped her from her thoughts. Somebody was yelling loudly, though it didn’t sound like they were angry yells or anything. Instead, they sounded very pleased about something. Pressing her ear to the wooden door, she listened carefully in hopes of making out what the person was saying.
"He said we could torture the witches if we liked," came a male's voice.
Another one, female, responded, "No, he gave us specific orders not to touch them; they are his to torture. You know what he's like when we disobey his orders."
A slam of a door was followed by heavy footsteps that sounded by her door before quickly faded from earshot. It was pitch black inside the room except for a small hole in the wall where a tiny beam of moonlight shone through. Using her hands, she felt around the door for a knob, and her hands eventually brushing up against something cold and hard. Turning the handle carefully and quietly, she discovered that the old lock wasn't properly closed.
The door swung open, revealing an almost frighteningly crypt-like darkness in front of her. The only parts of the cavernous hall that weren’t bathed in total darkness were the tiny, jagged slits of moonlight that had managed to shine through some distant window, illuminating the brick walls with an eerie greenish glow. If only her wand hadn’t been taken, she could have torn through the darkness with absurd ease. But now Miriam felt vulnerable without any kind of magical protection. It made her extremely angry to think that somewhere, her damn brother was probably fondling it
Carefully stepping out of the room, she listened intently for any signs of approaching footsteps. The silence was wonderful to her ears as she stood out in the cool, dark hallway. To her left and right were narrow corridors, both completely uninviting to her. Miriam stared down each one, hoping to pick up the slightest inkling about which one would lead her out. Deciding to try the right, she began to find her way through the darkness, and back to the room where she had first awoken and seen Tom. Upon looking into that room, she saw that her friends were now placed precariously on an old, torn chair like a couple of life-sized dolls.
Standing there in the darkness, Miriam contemplated how she could rescue her friends; but as each idea passed through her head, she knew none of them would work. Even simply trying to carry them was impossible because the added weight of two unconscious bodies would slow Miriam to the point of certain exposure.
Quietly leaving the room, and with a heavy heart, Miriam continued hurrying down the darkened hallway, where a faint light was shining from inside a room. Curiosity getting the better of her, she peaked into the room and saw her brother fast asleep in a chair.
Staring at this wretched man in complete revulsion, watching as his chest continued to rise and fall heavily, Miriam noticed something lying on the ground by his feet. It was a wand, and upon a closer look, she realized that it was her wand. As quietly as she could be, she tiptoed over and gently grabbed her wand. Tom gave a soft snort, but he didn’t wake up. She remembered that he was a very soft sleeper and just the slightest noise could wake him up. Miriam knew she would have to be deathly silent on the way out.
The way he was laying there with his jet-black hair framing his face, it was almost too hard to imagine that this was the same man who had single-handedly destroyed so many lives.
Keeping the wand safely inside her grip, Miriam turned to leave the room. She had made it back to the entrance when a voice called out from behind her, “And just where do you think you’re going?”
Gulping, Miriam turned around and saw Tom staring at her, a malevolent grin plastered all over his gaunt, waxy face. The combination was quite disturbing - almost like a grinning skeleton was staring back at her. Quickly raising her wand, she pointed it directly at Tom, who didn’t seem unnerved at all. He gave a high, cold laugh as he stood up from his chair.
“What exactly do you think you’re going to do with that?” he asked, a slight mocking tone in his voice, as though he were talking to an insolent child. “Go ahead, throw your stupid little spells at me,” he chided. “Nothing can hurt Lord Voldemort.”
“You’re lying,” she breathed, her heart beating loudly in her chest. “You’re nothing more than just some mortal, ugly coward with a new name! You're still the same old Tom I used to know."
Something flashed in his eyes after she said it. The grin slowly faded from his face, only to be replaced by an ugly look.
“I am no mere mortal anymore,” he roared, his eyes taking on a brighter red gleam. “I have gone further than any other wizard alive to conquer death."
"Then you're nothing more than a coward who's afraid to die!" After Miriam said it, she sorely wished she could take it back. Tom glared at her, and his eyes were turning redder and redder as he advanced on her. They took on more of a slit shape, giving him the appearance of an overgrown snake.
“I’m afraid there’s no place for you to go, Miriam,” he hissed softly. “You’re trapped.” He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. "Diffindo is an interesting little curse. Able to slice a person in two in a matter of a few seconds. Perhaps a demonstration?" he asked. Lifting his wand and touching Miriam with it, he placed his hand roughly around her neck. Her body shook from the inside. Her heart was pounding loudly in her chest - just waiting to stop from the exertion. She couldn't move and soon felt the tip of the wand jab her painfully in the neck. The blood was pounding loudly in her veins, up to her ears; she could feel it throb violently against his wand.
She gave a soft gasp, waiting for it to be all over with. The wand once held tightly in her hand now slipped to the floor; her only defense was now gone.
"Do not fear. I have no use to kill you yet. I want you to watch as I use it on your friends. How sweet it will be to watch you suffer as I slowly torture your friends to death with you watching near by."
Removing the wand from her neck, Tom grabbed her hands and pointed his wand over them. He closed his eyes, mumbling something she couldn't hear. The wand left a small crimson trail in its path. Miriam felt pain in her hands as she tried to pull away. Tom looked into her eyes, his face hardening with what he saw.
"You were thinking of leaving, weren't you?" his hissed, holding her despite her attempts at breaking free. The trail grew longer, spreading the crimson lines up her arms. Miriam winced again, but not a sound left her mouth. She didn't want to give her brother the satisfaction of letting him hear her in pain. He waved his wand more forcefully over her arms, the crimson lines dripping more heavily on the floor now. She slowly began sliding down the wall as more blood came out from the wounds.
"You'll never escape me."
She was beginning to feel woozy. There was a loud thump from the other rooms; Tom jerked his hands, sending his wand straight up to her neck and releasing his grip from her in the process. A cool drip on her neck told her she had just been cut there as well. Placing a palm over her neck to stop the flow, Tom finally looked back at her. "That was only a little taste of what Diffindo is like."
Her eyes traveled over her brother's face. Miriam knew she had to get away if she could. It was now or never.
The heavy sounds of boots running toward them were growing louder by the second. It was like whoever was running knew that Miriam was about to escape. Gathering her strength, she kicked Tom hard in the crotch, immobilizing him for a few moments while she grabbed her neglected wand off the floor. Her arms still smarted from the pain, but adrenaline was coursing through her veins, numbing a little bit of the pain.
With Tom still hunched over, Miriam knew it was now or never.... Taking one last glance at him, Miriam quickly got up and stumbled down the dark corridor, opposite of where the continuing footsteps were coming from. Shots of Diffindo, Crucio, and Avada Kedavra were flying by her head, but thankfully none of them hit her. Soon the shots were replaced by Tom yelling, “She went that way! Don't kill her. I want her brought to me alive!"
Miriam didn’t know how to get out of the building, or even if she was heading in the right direction. But she knew had to keep going or face the awful consequences of being dissected by Tom and the others.
“Turn down this way!” a female voice yelled.
~*~
Miriam’s heart was still racing. Her face was sweaty from exhaustion, and her arms were covered in dried blood and cuts. The November night did nothing to help cool her off; the biting wind just nipped painfully at the cuts on her arms and neck. She stood alone on the outskirts of a dense forest, trying to figure out which direction to go. But no matter where she went, it would never be far enough away from her brother.
Since she had just narrowly escaped from her brother's hideout, she was a nervous wreck. Every tiny sound, whether it was a twig snapping or leaves rustling, sent her into a panicked frenzy. Completely unaware of just how late it was, Miriam wandered into the forest in search of a place to get some rest. Some of the tree branches hung low to the ground, providing ample shelter for her. Climbing under one, she passed out - and remained so - for the rest of the night.
~*~
As the pinkish rays of early morning light broke through the trees, Miriam stirred. She felt like she hadn't slept a wink and was hungrier than she had ever been in her life even when Madam Westyn had starved them for "misbehaving." However, the hunger pains were no match for the pains of guilt she felt for leaving her friends behind. Miriam knew she needed to get them out of there as quickly as possible, but without backup, she knew didn't stand a chance.