Written for a the Dramatic Monologue Challenge on xoxLewrahxox's forum

The Five Cellmates of Azkaban

Bellatrix slowly opened her eyes, allowing the darkness to blur and fade into shadows, twisting and swirling around her cell, inside her mind. Smoky tendrils reached out and snatched at her legs. They greedily bared their pointed teeth and snapped their jaws with the sound of metallic clanging, cell doors closing, always closing. The beast spat and hissed, causing her to wince and curl her legs up, whimpering as the shadows lengthened with the sun, encroaching on her precious little corner. Her whimpers dissolved into shrieks as the pain came, the cacophony of screams, the hail of needles, each penetrating further than the last, ripping to shreds what remained of her mind, her memory.

She tasted blood on her lips and licked them greedily as the hot, sticky liquid dribbled down her chin, staining her neck. It gave her strength. It gifted her with the memory of pain. The remembrance of power.

Suddenly, a heavy weight was removed from her, and her mind, quick and active once more, rebelled against the foreign presence. She would throw off this beast for good, she would be a slave no more to her ruthless captor. She imagined. She remembered.

She was free. She could fly, her mind soaring, catching just a glimpse of a cloak whipping around a corner, following, knowing, hoping, wanting – before a more tangible cloak appeared, gliding smoothly toward her, and the darkness crashed over her once more. Bellatrix morosely stared at the wall, brick, all brick. Stone. Cold. Damp. Those words made up her fortress, her own personal prison.

A light attracted her gaze, and in its wake, a line of figures. Tall, thin, strong, they spoke to her, whispers. The hissing echoed in her mind. And she spoke back.

To the first she crooned, "Love, you are strong, stronger than I am. I had strength, but now it is gone. All gone!" She cackled madly and curiously stretched out a finger, graying skin stretched thin to the bone, but did not touch, as though she were afraid her new friends would disappear upon contact. Her voice lowered to barely a whisper, speaking each word carefully, lovingly. "I gave it to Him. I gave Him my strength, because he needed it, and now it is gone, and He is, too."

She moved down the line. "And you, darling, are beautiful, more beautiful than I am now. I had beauty, but I gave it to Him. Didn't He know it was useless without Him? And now my beauty is gone, and so is He."

Some magnetic force drew her forward, to address the third. She staggered slightly, but drew herself up proudly, slowly straightening her slumped posture, deliberately turning to face her company. Her voice dropped again. "Don't tell the others," she giggled, "but you are my favorite. Powerful. I had power, but I gave it all to Him. It was all His, anyway, really. But now it is gone, along with Him."

She sauntered to the fourth. Her mood changed; her insane smile drooped. "Please," she begged, "please, get me out of here! I can't think!" She tore at her face with her curved nails." I need to find Him! I—," her voice gave out and she mouthed the words, "I think I'm going insane." Finally, she croaked out one last plea, "Help me."

But the figure gave her no answer, and so she moved down to the last, her triumphant smile returning, her eyes glinting in the light. Her face warped into something ugly, gloating. "It is no matter. He will come for me. He needs me. One day, we shall be together again. And I, His most faithful, shall return to my rightful place. I shall serve Him to the last." And determinedly settling that point, she lazily ran her fingers across each of the five bars on her cell door, feeling each tiny imperfection in the metal with her unnaturally thin fingers before returning to her corner on the floor, beside the cell's tiny cot, and dropped back off to sleep.