This hurts me more than It will ever hurt you
Bellatrix stared at her. The room was dark, but there was enough light for her to see the altar and the vampire on it. The altar was carved from the very stone of the earth itself. Its surface was etched with intricate patterns of decay, a swirling tapestry of morbidity that caught eyes deeper into its mesmerizing design. Unearthly shadows danced upon its weathered surface, as if souls trapped in eternal torment writhe in anguish.
The altar's surroundings were adorned with macabre offerings—a mosaic of bones, both animal and humanoid, meticulously arranged in a macabre display. The flickering light of dim torches cast a sickly glow upon the spectacle, highlighting the jagged edges and emphasizing the unsettling nature of the scene.
"Do you remember how you did it?" She asked, she bit her lower lip, visibly stressed.
"Yes." She said shortly, "your first kill is not something easy to forget, is it? I am sure you still remember yours."
"I have never killed anybody." The older woman's hands trembled. She knew her lover was telling the truth - nobody was as kind as she was. But oh, how desperately she refused to believe her words. Hermione was a vampire; her destiny was to kill, to hurt, to destroy. And so far Bellatrix was the only one who had done those things. Blood ran gently down the woman's lip.
"Darling?" She gently placed her hand on hers and Bellatrix could feel the love that in that exact moment made her want to kill herself for all the things she did.
"Yes, yes, we are starting now." It haunted her head since their talk. Hermione and her fangs, designed to cut skin, Hermione and her dead body, coming from the afterlife, Hermione and her keen senses, created to track down victims, Hermione and her vampirism, whose purpose was to destroy humans, were more humane than Bellatrix ever was.
Bellatrix looked back at her family - Hermione said it wasn't one - according to her, the family did not rely on violence. But Hermione just didn't know that all the Cruciatuses on her father's part were nothing but care, protection, teaching. They had created the person Bellatrix was meant to be. And maybe, but just maybe, they did it too well, seeing how Bellatrix didn't have time to be a human now.
"How will it even work, can you tell me?" For the first time in ages, Hermione didn't know something. She had excellent knowledge on her spice, but the ritual was something made up completely by humans to mock the Gods.
"Well, yes. I am going to separate your body and soul, which will be the reason of its parting. The parting however... Your - our souls are so weak, Hermione. They are unable to push back evil, unable to endure pain. That's why If I-" She hesitated, "if I hurt you hard enough, your soul will want to leave your body, cut that connection. Then, in the right moment, I will cut it. I just have to say the right words. That is all it takes." She breathed slowly, all her tools laying just centimetres away of her hands. "I beg you, Hermione, do not look me in the eyes." It wasn't all it would take.
"Zu'u rel Rah naal ahraan hi." Something changed - Hermione couldn't tell what it was or what it meant - but she knew it wasn't turning back from now on.
This time, Hermione was like a fine china doll. Bellatrix set her up standing next to the table and cast the spell that had to keep her conscious.
She took a quick swing, hitting her in the head with something spear-like. The wooden end broke, and the younger woman's head banged against the table as her knees buckled under her. Hermione didn't even have time to let out a surprised sound, taken aback by the sudden movement of the woman who had just moments before been hugging her from behind. Bellatrix took her hair, easily lifting her.
She hissed in pain and closed her eyes as Bellatrix tossed her at the table. She didn't want to look her in the eyes, as she promised, she really didn't. But it was getting harder and harder when she heard the clatter of the knife and her laughter. Millions of thoughts in her head were almost as loud as her screams.
"I don't- I don't understand why you are still here - with me." Bellatrix looked at her body; recreating her death would be so easy; all the evidence was on her. Quickly, she placed her hand on her arm, pushing it hard on the table. "The last time I talked too, did I not?"
Her other hand got to the knife and stabbed her in the ribs. Hermione wanted to moan from pain but was unable as she started coughing with blood. To make her quite, Bellatrix brought the knife to her lips. "You said love is the sweetest of things, then why mine hurts you every time?" She tightened her fingers on the handle of the knife. She took a deep breath, feeling her eyes well up with tears. Hermione's fingers twitched, not even a second later, her body bent in hellish pain. Bellatrix remembered her own joy when she heard those beautiful sounds, those laughs around her, this applause. Bellatrix felt like pulling out that knife and slitting her own neck.
In that exact moment, Hermione should have died; the pain was so intense, the connection to her bloodstream was severed, and her brain had a significantly reduced supply of oxygen. But young Bellatrix wouldn't have allowed it; she quickly cast another spell, wanting her alive. Luckily for her, her mind went blank anyway.
She slowly removed the knife, blood on her hands, "I do think you would be better off without me." The older woman couldn't help but hear those terrible, cruel, angry, pain-filled moans directed towards her.
She didn't know what to do with her dagger - so like before - she just placed it in Hermione's neck; cutting the skin; but not all the way up; just so it would stay still. "But I am too selfish to let you go." She whispered, her voice broken like never before.
Bellatrix seemed to have finally reached that point where she was going crazy. She felt like she could hear each new cut on her skin, how slowly, in spite of itself, the tissue broke through, sometimes showing only real skin and other times muscle. She was even sure that the blood flowing out of each newly formed wound hissed or squeaked, and each bone crumbled with a bang. Her hands began to tremble gently with fear.
She simply took a hammer and swung, too frightened to look at her lover's body.
She could hear her bones crushing, Hermione wanted to grab her hand to stop her, but she didn't even have the strength to lift hers, let alone stop Bella. The final push was when the older woman grabbed the hammer and drove that cursed dagger into her neck, all the while muttering a spell meant to keep her alive. Something snapped and Bellatrix could feel the change in theirs magic. Quickly, she placed two fingers on her lips this time louder, said another words.
"Ofan daar Rah lost aav, Zu'u kren."
She didn't expect any explosions.
The woman woke up after a while, there was a rumble in her head, and her eyes could not see anything except the fog? Smoke? She wasn't sure. Her attempt to get up ended with her falling over. After a while, Bellatrix realized that this smoke, this fog, was the result of the collapsed walls and ceiling.
In an instant, fear overcame her, causing her to dash to the altar. It was whole. So was the woman on it. Only, she was dead.
Bellatrix wanted to fall along with the building, looking at the body of her lover. It no longer had any marks, yet the woman's head fell on her chest flooding with tears, she clasped her hands together, almost tearing the skin with her own nails. The woman was not a religious person - she knew that it was all just a fairy tale - but she also knew that it was a sin that Satan herself would not have committed.
Bellatrix used all her strenght to stand up and say the final words,
"Nol dii zein, Zu'u ofan hi fin ofan - dii sill."