Preview: a brief section from the fic"He seemed polite, quiet, and thirsty for knowledge."
"I believe the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot."
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Strike During The Rain
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The rain beats down stronger. As it flows down my head, it collects my hair in clusters around my eyes. A droplet is about to fall into the puddle at my feet.
That's when I see it. Out of the corner of my eyesight, near the stone wall of the vegetable garden, sits a small field mouse carefully sniffing the air for its next meal.
But it is not the mouse that has caught my interest. No, not the mouse, pathetic thing.
Instead my eyes focus to the blades of grass seemingly gliding with the wind just a few feet before the small creature. To anyone else it probably would seem a soft sway with the wind, but not to me.
I can sense it.
I grip the edge of the stone step I am sitting on. My heart is pounding faster, my breath quickens. My muscles begin to tighten at my shoulders down to the tips of my fingers and toes. I watch without blinking in anticipation of the attack I know is inevitable.
The lunge of pure instinct and vicious precision. Like a whip the black snake strikes out for the prey. My eyes widen as the fangs puncture through the fur and skin, pumping the paralyzing venom into the blood.
I can taste it. I lick my lips. It is as if the warmth of the kill is flowing down my throat. The sweet, intoxicating taste of death rushes through each of my taste buds, and yet I know it is not mine.
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