Chapter 277 - Recompence (1/2)
A group of Death Eater's apparated out under the cool forest shadow before the old Carrow manor. Most of the Death Eaters were congratulating each other except for those that had been injured. ”Bloody hell!” Shrieked, a squat young wizard with a doughy face and tiny eyes. Amycus Carrow held his bleeding hand, while his sister held his dismembered fingers in the other.
”I'll kill that Prince whore if it's the last thing I do!” Amycus swore out loud to the general guffaw of the rest of the death eaters.
”It'll be alright, brother,” wheezed the stocky young witch with stubby fingers, Alecto Carrow.
”My poor Snyde, would have loved this!” Cried out, the perpetual red-eyed, puffy-faced, sniffling, widowed Empusa Snyde.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, Empusa, sniffles, ”There Amycus. I'll have you right as rain if not at least your fingers will stick. But first, we must see the Dark Lord.”
The Death Eaters hurry forward to only come to a halt at seeing the two men of the hour. A delighted dandy, Pyrites, and the handsome newly graduated wizard with dark curly hair, S.R. Wilkes. Pyrites clapped his arm around Wilkes and grins most innocently.
”My, my, Wilkes, you clever, clever boy, Master will be sure to allow you into our innermost ranks,” Pyrites purred. ”The Dark Lord himself will mark you.”
Wilkes flashes a cold grin and says, ”That is all I've ever wanted.”
”Your uncle, Primus is waiting inside, he'll be most proud,” Pyrites said as he personally led the 17-year-old wizard inside the manor.
The great halls swing open to see Death Eaters reverently kneeling as Lord Voldemort impatiently waits for good news. His deathly pale face is most eager as crimson eyes shine with a snakelike gleam. ”Welcome my loyal brethren,” Lord Voldemort said as he gestured with wide open arms as if to hug them.
Pyrites bows as Wilkes quickly falls onto his knees as well. ”Master,” Pyrites reverently said. ”Our faithful brother Rabastan Lestrange has fallen-.” Pyrites paused watching most intently the crowd especially the elder Lestrange, but there was not a single sudden movement from him. ”However, the younger Lestrange reclaimed his family honor for he did indeed slay, Abraxas Malfoy.”
”Wonderful,” Voldemort breathed in joy. ”His glorious sacrifice shall forever be remembered.”
Stepping down from his throne his trailing robes seem to hiss as Voldemort moves across the marble floor. ”Wilkes is it? Primus has told me much about you. Come show me your face.”
”Yes, Dark Lord,” Wilkes said as he glanced up into, the pallid face.
”Yes, you are quite strong and cunning,” Voldemort mused as he looked into the boy's mind. ”You've done well and for that, you shall be rewarded.” Without warning, he took Wilkes' left arm and pressed his finger into the arm as he began to chant. Blood and ink began to mix as more than just a simple tattoo was inscribed onto Wilkes flesh, but more they the fools for accepting without any question.
Wilkes clenched his teeth together as he tried not to scream. After what seemed like an eternity Voldemort finally released his arm. Wilkes though sweating and panting remained silent the entire time. Voldemort nods his head in approval and says, ”A credit to your family.”