Chapter Text
"Wh...You have to be kidding. W-Why would you create such a thing?" Regulus breathed out, horror flooding his voice, staring up at the Dark Lord in shock and slight disgust. He knew that he was obsessed with not Dying, but...but a Horcrux? They were horrid things to create. More than just the fact that you are murdering someone, it was the rending of your soul, the very essence of your being...it could drive you mad.
"I have already created two..." Tom said, a smirk curling on his lips. "I simply thought I could share this with you, love." The older man said, dipping down to trace his cheek. Regulus flinched at that. He had not done so before, not often at least. The other stood, his eyes turning dark and his face blank. "You do not approve?"
"I..." He had already condemned himself, Regulus knew.
"Very well, I want to show you something...let us draw this from our minds for now." Tom said, his voice soothing. Regulus breathed a sigh and nodded, taking the other's arm as he apparated on the spot.
They landed heavily on the cliffside of a mountain. Regulus could see where the ocean crashed violently against the rocks, wind buffeting his face. "Come along," Tom stated simply, walking steadily forwards, a grip on his elbow. Regulus stumbled after his lover, his eyes wide and somewhat unnerved.
"What are we..."
"Shh," he stated softly, "Not now, my dearest." Regulus silenced himself, knowing better than to question the other. They had only been together for a little while, in comparison to his brother's relationship with that other muggleborn gryffindor. Regulus had never spoken to his mother about that, nor his father, knowing it would be the end of Sirius...but either way, the relationship had gone on long enough that Regulus was fully aware of various things. The first was, defiance was not an option. It was not to be tolerated, and Regulus recalled a lot of people who had and did not again when it came to Tom. He had never dared, too scared to do so. To in awe...He had been lucky, after all, that Tom had seen someone as young as him worthy of such a lofty position, was interested in him in that way. He had not dared to tell anyone else...but in the end, he knew that something was weird. Tom was the one who started their relationship...but Regulus could not stop this twinge of worry that he was doing something horribly stupid continuing it.
Tom cut his palm and a hole appeared in the wall as it sucked in his blood, Regulus getting more and more nervous as this continued. He had no idea what Tom was planning, but he had a feeling that it was a very bad thing. His nerves were slowly getting worse, causing his body to tremble slightly.
Tom led him to the centre island, a basin was in the middle, filled with some clear liquid, a gleaming silver and gold locket at the very bottom. Regulus flinched as he felt the energy eminating from it.
"M-My Lord, w-what is..."
"You despise my creation so much?" Tom muttered, his arms circled around his waist, his lips against his ear. "You hate what I can forge, what I have forged, well, have I not forged you? Brought you from the depths of where you were, showered you with the praise you so desperately craved, and taught you things beyond what you would have known otherwise? Since you hate my creations so much, you can die with them." He hissed. Regulus gasped, turning desperately as Tom disappeared from behind him. He screamed, rushing towards him, pleas son his lips, only to stumble back as he saw hands raise from the moat circling the basin.
"M-My Lord, please...I didn't. I didn't mean to. Please!" Tom did not answer the door sealing shut.
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It was so cold...and he was so Hungry. Desperation clawed through him, but there was nothing to do.
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Thirsty...so thirsty.
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His body was numb. He could not move it from where it had curled around the basin anymore...too exhausted.
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He was dying, Regulus knew...but he was not sure that he was sad about it.
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"M-My Lord," The words were the last he spoke as his eyes slipped shut.
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He screamed. His voice wrenched from his throat, agony flying through him as he cried out in pain. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS! He was gasping in desperation, his voice scratchy from the mingled screams. His left arm flared incredibly painfully. Gasps flooding through him as his body curled itself in pain. In that moment of weakness he was a seven year old once more. Begging Sirius for help, knowing the other would not be able to do anything, gone as he was to Hogwarts.
Sweat dripped down from his hair to his cheeks, his clothes dampening with it as his body burned and ripped him apart from the inside out. He could not think, could not breathe. He was all gasps and sobs, and pain. It hurt...so much. It hurt.