Chapter 667 - The Master’s Return Ⅱ (1/2)

There was such a heavy silence that even a pin could be heard being dropped onto the floor. The Death Eaters hold their breath before Primus proudly puffs up with pride with a smug expression on his face. ”I thought as much-,” Primus sneered before a familiar purple streak flashed from the tip of Dolohov's wand in his trademark spell.

Unable to finish his sentence, Primus wails like a gutted pig. In sheer disbelief, he gazes down and takes in the sight of his missing hand. In its place is a severed wrist that shows glistening bone and gory flesh at the edge of a bleeding severed stump. His eyes dumbly fall even more down to the ground. On the ground lays his right hand still clutching to his wand as crimson wetness spreads from the served hand, and the loud sound of droplets dripping down onto the floor from the bleeding severed wrist.

A Death Eater chokes rather faintly, while other weak-stomached Death Eaters in the crowd turn blanche and a sickly color as they hastily avert their eyes from the bloody scene. Several pinch their noses shut lest the already rising bile in their bellies continues to rise. Their swift actions for the moment halt the rapid rising of the bile that still swirled ominously in the depth of their queasy stomachs.

A sudden screech escapes Primus Wilkes's mouth as he begins to howl and wail in pain. Clutching his severed hand, Primus fails to notice the deliberate form of Dolohov steadily approaching from behind. Too late, Primus recalls the presence of Dolohov only to find the muscular wizard looming over him from behind. Shuddering, he grows still as he feels Dolohov's breath come closer halting right next to his ear.

In a mocking whisper, Dolohov says, ”Primus, I cannot help but wonder just how much of a use that you will be now to the half-breed, Tom Riddle without your wand hand?”

Primus pushes down the tendril of panic within his chest at Dolohov's words and steps hurriedly away from the larger wizard. Whirling about to face Dolohov, Primus opens his mouth to speak when a shrill scream erupts from his throat in white-hot agony. Weakly in disbelief and utter bewilderment, he feels his body slump to the floor. A loud slurping-like sound follows as he raises his gaze to find a purple spark fade away from the tip of Dolohov's wand. A strong imaginable scent of blood and flesh reaches his nostrils causing him to glance down.

The urge to vomit overwhelms Primus as he sees his innards sliding out from his body onto the floor. He was far from the only one as many turned pale and green. While the weaker stomached Death Eaters, who had been holding it in let out a sickly gurgle. Feeling the bile rapidly rising, they forcefully clamp their hands over their mouths, before fleeing in droves to vomit. Those lucky enough find silver and ornamental vases in which to hurl the contents of their stomach in. The rest begin to spew in the corridor just outside the hall causing an entire gruesome chain reaction.

Clutching at his wet, slippery innards, Primus's hands quiver shakily as he attempts to shove his guts inside the cavity to no avail. Utter shock, and even fear to flash through his eyes as he futilely tries to staunch the flow as a crimson pool spread around him. All too soon fury flashes through his eyes as he opens his mouth to harshly speak but finds that even the air from his lungs seems to have vanished. Find authorized novels in , faster updates, better experience, Please click #%E2%80%99s-return-%E2%85%B1_52028138707804354 for visiting.

In that instant complete and utter rage flashes across Primus's face, while the triumphant sneer on Dolohov's face only grows wider. Primus futilely reaches for the wand still clenched in his served hand to find that he is incredibly weak. He slips on his slick, dripping wet, red-soaked fingers onto the cold floor. The strength in his body rapidly leaves him as if hordes of rats from a sinking ship. His lungs have great difficulty in pulling air as the beat of his heart grows weaker and louder in his ears.

Primus attempts to futilely push himself up to find that his limbs refused to listen to him. Laying in a pool of warm, cooling blood Primus manages to see the retreating back of Dolohov. Plain murder can be found in Primus's eyes as his thoughts connect to the others. Just how could their plans have gone so very astray?! They had severely underestimated the rabid dog of their puppet. DOLOHOV MUST PERISH!

With Dolohov casually moving away, the Death Eaters hastily retreat out of Dolohov's way and avert their eyes not even daring to be caught staring. Even the most outspoken Death Eater's would be a fool to even so much as a voice a protest or worse draw the maddened ire of Dolohov, who had just slain Primus. They certainly did not have a death wish, to begin with!