((Chance had to get a new account because she got banned. D: Sevnote, I think.))

When Bella left with the Mudblood in tow, Voldemort sat in his conjured chair and reclined, thinking hard. Wel, the Mudblood had died, and although he wasn't remorseful in the least, it was inconvenient. He didn't have some bait for the Order anymore.

He waited for Bella to return. He had another job for her. 

((...giggle. 9v9))

As her arms relaxed from the weight of the body, Bellatrix regarded the face of the girl with an ex
pression of superiority. Her mouth curled at the edge and she turned to totter around a bit before remembering the Dark Lord was in the next room. Her eyes widening, she stiffly speedwalked back. The flooring squeaked loudly when she stepped, making her jump. With no one but her lord (saying my lord was always a little thrilling) in the room, what was she to expect? Nothing had gone especially wrong, right? What if she was too slow or too fast or too loud or he thought she disrespected him or hated him oh god she could never hate him. Does he know that? With another small start and a jerk back to reality, Bella continued on her way to the room, greatly distracted and slightly disturbed. "Milord." she murmured shakily, entering the room with caution. 'Scared and yet wanting him still...Bella, what is wrong with you?' Narcissa's voice entered her head, and she shook it slightly. A piece of hair fell in her face.

((Omg that post. Made me lol. So hard that my mum asked me why and suggested I get put in an asylum.))

"Bella," Voldemort said in a soft voice. His back was to her. "Come here. Hold my hand." He held out a scaly paw ((? What do you call a snake's...er, hand? xD)) and waited expectantly. "Don't be afraid. I can tell if you're afraid, and you will be punished."

He knew she couldn't see his face at the moment, and if she had, oh she would have been very scared. His eyes were glowing manically, and his slits of a nose were flaring visibly. He was fuming. His few minutes of contemplation had given him time to think about a...less than pleasing circumstance, and he was about to deal with it.

((Shouldn't well all be, though? Then everyone could be insane together. and the sane people would be insane and great ideas would be popping everywhere like popcorn on a hot day in an oven with no roof.))

For a second, Bellatrix thought she was paralyzed. Maybe dead. She couldnt tell if she had gone to heaven or hell. Her heart seemed to have stopped, like it wasn't sure either. It doesn't matter. You must do what he wishes... Instinctsual fear she had managed to tame so well struggled to break free from her chest, her resolve to continue pushing it down harshly. Lips parted slightly, she took a stiff step forward, bending down in a sort of slow lunge before straightening up and getting her hand to move. Her mind had gone totally blank. 

And then she gripped his hand.

Maybe more tightly than she intended.

Heart racing and senses coming back to life, Bella didn't loosen her grip. Instead, her eyes raced around Voldemort's back, not sure what to think. Of course, the first emotion that had tried to enter her heart was bliss, but then uncertainty.  Something was wrong here. He wasn't facing her, and of course that small, hopeful corner in her mind wanted to make her believe he was going to spin around with a black rose and a kiss (slight color rose to her cheeks), but the rest of her was wary.  Arm outstretched for fear of being too close, Bellatrix curtsyed awkwardly wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, especially considering she wasn't in his direct line of sight. Confused, heart fluttering, eyes on the brink of getting wet, and with the most powerful man in the world in her hand, she was sure nothing she had done had been so... odd.

((Omg, who knew Bella was a romantic? <3))

"Bella, I have a slight predicament." Voldemort turned to face her, eyes glinting. "You have...made me feel." He snarled at her rosy cheeks. "Do not get petty romantic notions into your head, stupid woman! My Death Eaters are not lovesick fools. You have...made me feel pleased. Emotions are a weakness. And you will pay for that." He squeezed her hand harder. "What do you suggest I do with you?" 

Bellatrix was torn by desire. Eventually the need to prove herself and obey won over in a rumbling snarl of fire and self-hatred, her facial ex
pression visibly reflecting this fight. Sinking to her knees, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could you do this. How could you be so stupid. Idiot. You're exactly how he thinks of you. The muscles all over her body tensed. What do you deserve? To be nailed into a coffin? Whipped, pulled apart, shredded? Killed. ...by him...? Her heart lurched. Feelings were definately a weakness. She was weak. But of all things... maybe this was the most appropriate and yet the worst. 

There had to be a fitting punishment that allowed her to continue to serve. For now, she would not feel. No emotions. Nothing to disturb her but obediance. Answer the question, fool! "Milord..." Bella's voice was raspy, her throat constricted. "M...Milord," Bellatrix tried to lick her lips, muscles apparently frozen. She had no answer. Her eyes stared at the floor. It would be easier just to recieve whatever punishment he chose... Feelings threatened to bubble up inside of her and she steeled herself against them. The best she could do was nothing, and that was not going to be enough.

((Omg, I bought the name Milord. <3 *sigh*))

"Nothing to say, Bella?" Voldemort's voice was positively silky. "Do not think I do not see what goes in your head. I know your thoughts. Unfortunately for you, you will not be punished in as pleasing a way as you desire." Without even taking his wand out, he murmured something low, and watched the effects of the blood-boling curse take effect. 

At first, Bellatrix thought she was angry. Really, really angry. Then the heat she supposed was only an uncharacteristic need for revenge seemed to increase, her wrists burning and temples pounding. The words she was choking on seemed to rearrange themselves into a strangled breath, lungs heaving deeply. She was on fire. Thats what it was. He had set fire to her insides and now it was coursing through her veins. Her jaw clenched down and the white-hot pain burned into her eyes, her ears, her face... Air hissed in and out from between tensed teeth and down a strained passageway, providing temporary cool relief until the next wave of heat obliterated it. Bella's pale hands moved over her closed eyes, wanting to tear at them and end the searing pain before it ended her itself. The only thing she was not going to be was pathetic. No cries for help, no sadness. A slight growl escaped her throat, and she dug her nails back into the wood floor. Anger, if neccesary. At least anger at herself. She deserved what she was getting.

((Baah not happy with it lD also jelly of that name. Black wyrae plz. ;c)) 

((I just typed a big long post. And then clicked a link in the SB. ...-sucide- PFISFJ.))

Bellatrix clawed at the ground, slight admiration peeking through the red mist of pain and heat. If it hadn't been used to hurt her, she might have been happier for him, or marveled over his genius, or thrown a celebration involving lots of Muggles. Now, of course, she struggled not to let these weaknesses do any damage. Throat still burning too much to speak and body numbing slowly, a slight jerky nod was managed. 

((Hate it when that happens. ;o))

"Excellent," Voldemort said gleefully. A flick of his finger, and the curse was cancelled. "Now, Bella. What do you feel when you are torturing someone? Imagine that you had Ginny Weasley, the Blood-Traitor girl, on the ground, blood everywhere... Imagine that you could do whatever you wanted to her, whatever spell came to mind... and every spell that came out of your wand put her in excruciating pain. Made her writhe in agony. Made her seizure. How do you feel?" He advanced on her slowly, and a pale, bony finger came to stroke the back of her neck. He idly watched emotion flicker over her face.