Cellar

can be used as a dungeon too.

Harsh rays of celestial moonlight pierced the thick darkness through the small cracks in the far corner. However it was still just as impossible to escape, the hope of freedom drove people to madness as their mind was focused upon that small sliver. Only wizard’s with skill would feel the tight tension in the air from the amount of barriers and spells.

The glow of the moon cast a pearly sheen upon her white dress, it only made the delicate crimson droplets a more sinister contrast.

Her arms held her above a small little frame of a young boy, 10 years old, a Mudblood. Lamia smirked, knowing that this boy would have been enlisted to go to Hogwarts in a few months, despite her position as divinations teacher being terminated, she would still find ways to meddle with the school.

Her slender fingers caressed the boy’s chin as she held it so his eyes were on hers.

“Such soft, tender skin” she breathed, her nails drawing blood, her eyes clearly fascinated by the young boy.

Her victims had a tendency to be male, how she was entranced by their screams, how their masculinity bled away with one small twist of her blade.

With a swift downwards movement, her bladed wand wrenched into the boy’s chest, she pushed down on the handle and the bones cracked.

However due the boy was lost in her gaze, succumbing to her Leglimency.

The blade burrowed deeper and it pierced into the heart. With another violent twist, Lamia pulled it out, her arm wearing a long red glistening glove.

She took out a spare wand. Her hand darted out. Something squealed and inbetween her fingertips looked like a small bloody piece of round rubber.

Her hand wormed back into the boy’s wound and placed it where his heart once was, with her wand raised she mumbled a healing spell.

“A rat’s heart fit for a Mudblood”she hissed as she watched the wound heal up. Licking her lips, she held up the boy’s heart still impaled upon her blade. Hissing could be heard, the smell of a summer barbeque could be smelt. The once-red moist heart was starting to brown and dry. “The wonders of magic” she breathed as the hot air charm died away. With a delicate clench of her teeth, she tore away a sliver of heart, blood oozed from the strip of meat as her head lowered to the boy’s.

She kissed him, her tongue forcing the sliver of heart down the boy’s throat. She broke away, her eyes still attached to his. “Chew” she said softly.

The boy obliged but deep in his eyes, the agony that he was facing was vividly burning.

Lamia smirked in satisfaction and lapped up the blood from the corner of his mouth before placing a bloody kiss upon his forehead. “Sleep tight my little rat-boy” she turned to exit.

As soon as she was no longer in sight, the boy let out a spine-chilling scream as he threw up, his tiny hands clawing his chest.

Lamia laughed her melodious laugh, she knew that his body would be rejecting the foreign contaminated organ. She would listen to the melody of screams as his body attacked himself.

Her boredom had died away...for now.

Biting her lip, she stared hard at her bladed wand, as if the job would be completed by itself.

My beautiful hand she thought but she would throw away useless things if it would mean she would gain more power. She finally moved but with a hint of reluctance, slowly rolling up the crisp sleeve of her blouse. She inhaled as her fingers of her right hand coiled round her wand.

“Sectumsempra” she whispered the words coming out faster than she had hoped. But it was too late to turn back now. The searing pain she felt, seized her body, her instinct to cradle her severed wrist. She screamed as it numbed the pain. The agony blinded her eyes with lights.

“4!” she screeched to her house-elf, seemingly favouring the usage of numbers than the letters of the alphabet. She could feel herself sway as her blood flowed freely out from her now amputated wrist.

She could hear chuckling in front of her as she held herself onto the tabletop. She looked up to the silhouette with unfocused eyes as she scrabbled onto the now bloodied stone surface.

"You vitches are very desperate aren't you?" a sneer was obvious in that tone of his heavy-accented voice.

Lamia growled weakly.

Samael chuckled again. "If I did...follow" his gloved hand cupped her chin, making her grip on the table falter slightly "your plan, you vould be in my debt. Da?" His amused tone turned grave, tightening his vice-like grip.

Lamia's lip rose in a sneer but it soon vanished as his grip let go, causing her to fall back onto the tiled floor.

Once more his chuckles echoed through her mind, that arrogant chuckle. She could feel the rustle of his robes as he knelt beside her, taking her amputated wrist in his hands. His grip was painful causing more lights to plagued her vision as she gasped.

"Yes" she choked out.

He smiled in satisfaction. In one swift movement, he pierced her amputated limb with the sharpened edge of a wand. She screamed as it jarred through bone and muscle, squelching as it burrowed deeper into the exposed bloody tissue.
Her other arm swung in attempt to pull it out but Samael was faster than her as his other hand planted a firm grip on her wrist. Her dazed nearly unconscious state was powerless against him, a man who could simply snap her other wrist into a thousand tiny fragments, knowing where each bone was in her hand to every delicate detail. He was a Healer after all, one that delved into the Dark Arts.

Samael pointed his wand to her stump of a hand and started muttering words unfamiliar to Lamia's ear. It was obvious he wasn't deterred by the heavy flow of blood nor her trembles and gritted teeth, as each incantation slowly rolled off his lips.

Lamia opened her mouth to express her irritation and impatience before being interrupted by the flicker of reflected light upon her eyes.

Liquid silver was materializing near her stumped wrist, casting a warped reflection of her face. She bit her lip as it melded with her ripped sinews, silver spikes implanting themselves into her veins, she was breathing heavily feeling the veins up her arm, go frigid.

The silver soon began to take form, starting from her wrist, intricately twisting around the wand. Despite Samael's growl of protest, Lamia lifted her newly-formed hand in front of her face, watching each slender finger form. She could feel her heart quicken as she flexed her index finger, adoringly staring at the pretty reflection it cast upon its silvery surface.

Samael finally finished, casting the final permanent Protego charm around it, sealing off the silver's weakness'. The sound of his boots on the stone flags signalled his decision to leave the detestable woman to fulfill her narcissistic ego.

It was seconds before Lamia fell down, her head making a sickening thud against stone. She didn't feel the pain, already experiencing the burning sensation of her wrist.

She lay there, heavily breathing. Crimson crept up the hair, staining them yet it didn't bother her for her eyes were transfixed to her left hand.

Incendio

The hand started moulding itself into an unclear shape before returning back to it's original form. Trickles ran over the chrome of the silver, casting vast intricate webs of blood-red.

Lamia never completed counting each branch, soon being defeated by sleep. Her head was pounding, her eyelids were heavy and it turned dark.