Post by Septimus LeStrange on Oct 4, 2007 22:02:33 GMT -5
As Septimus walked towards the one place he learned to hate, a stomach churning thought crossed his mind. Sicoft is up there somewhere... He thought and narrowed his dark eyes, looking up at the distant castle. He was not quite sure what he would do if....no, when he saw him. The countless ways of torturing someone left his mind, and all that remained was a faint numbing sensation all over his body. In most situations he felt control, but now, he wasn't sure if he could control the smallest tasks he would soon be doing. In one way that gave him an ecstasy that he scarcely knew, but at the same time it scared him a little. He was a strong man and let nothing get in his way, including fear. Why was he afraid to see Sicoft again? When they were children, Sicoft was a pathetic wiry boy with no particular talent besides potion-making. He was probably still the same pathetic boy, disguised in a grown man's body. Septimus grinned and nodded at this. Yes....he is nothing compared to me.
He was just outside the gate now and soon he would be inside again. He held his wand in one hand and a large black bag in the other. As he shifted the bag it made the sound of metal clanging together. He often referred it as his "Little Bag of Terror", contributing that it held all of his torture devices. He had a very unorthadox way of going along his business. But as long as his superiors never found out what he did to his victims to "interrogate and persuade" them, then he would continue. At least it was very effective and after awhile the Cruciatis Curse became such a bore....
Septimus looked at the gate. It seemed to be surrounded by all kinds of charms and curses. He frowned and held up his wand. He was told this was going to be a challenge. But he loved challenges! Within minutes the gates finally opened and let him in. Although with a few steps in he realized that his wand seemed increasingly heavy in his hand and he decided it would be best just to put it away. It wouldn't help him at all if he couldn't move it. He made his way to the castle. The wind started to blow with large drops of rain falling at a rapid speed. His cloak billowed out behind him and his new, plain black robes were getting soaked. But he cared very little. With torture and his brother on his mind, rain didn't seem to matter all too much.
He was just outside the gate now and soon he would be inside again. He held his wand in one hand and a large black bag in the other. As he shifted the bag it made the sound of metal clanging together. He often referred it as his "Little Bag of Terror", contributing that it held all of his torture devices. He had a very unorthadox way of going along his business. But as long as his superiors never found out what he did to his victims to "interrogate and persuade" them, then he would continue. At least it was very effective and after awhile the Cruciatis Curse became such a bore....
Septimus looked at the gate. It seemed to be surrounded by all kinds of charms and curses. He frowned and held up his wand. He was told this was going to be a challenge. But he loved challenges! Within minutes the gates finally opened and let him in. Although with a few steps in he realized that his wand seemed increasingly heavy in his hand and he decided it would be best just to put it away. It wouldn't help him at all if he couldn't move it. He made his way to the castle. The wind started to blow with large drops of rain falling at a rapid speed. His cloak billowed out behind him and his new, plain black robes were getting soaked. But he cared very little. With torture and his brother on his mind, rain didn't seem to matter all too much.