Next chapter at 100 votes! Dedicated to marriedtoblondebitch
  TWs for death, disembowelment, torture, gore, toxic relationships.

DEATH WOULD HAVE been kinder; a sort of natural release. There was no solace in this end, in this aching, breaking existence.

He cried for her, mourned her, screamed her name until his throat tore and his knees collapsed. He grieved her as if she were dead, she may as well have been and to him she was. It killed her all the same to hear it.

His first waking thought had been of her. He'd opened his eyes and rather than seeing devastation, all the blood and loss that surrounded him, he only saw all the empty places where Seven was not.

  And it terrified her. He terrified her. How could he cry for her and then use that same breath to carve her heart from her chest? How could he kiss her like he loved her, touch her like it was their last, and then take a dagger to her throat?

How could he hate so deeply and yet, somehow, love so entirely.

  But the most terrifying thing of all was that she was okay with this love, no matter how ugly or wrong. From him, it was enough.

Seven hesitated, tears in her eyes. But she had her mission and he had his. This wasn't about him, or even her, this had spiralled out of control long ago, and now, this was so much bigger than either of them could ever imagine.

This wasn't her choice to make, she had to leave him, even though every fibre of her being begged her not to. They might not get another chance at this otherwise. Every aching moment of her life had come down to this.

Seven longed to go back to those dark times when the only thing she longed for was retribution; the death of the Sins. When had her morals become so corrupt? Her heart so soft?

If Sloth had survived, then so had Pride. She imagined the pale-faced Sin crawling off to die in some far forgotten corner of his mansion, alone, as all cowardly things are in the end.

  There Draco would find him. And there Draco would kill him, his own father. His greatest influence, his greatest fear.

The night was thick and endless as Seven dragged herself across the manicured grounds, the grass looking black as tar and feeling just as hard to navigate through the darkness.
She fell once. She fell again. Each and every time dragging herself up to the thought of Draco, left alone with his father.

Perhaps this was a suicide mission, and deep down she'd known it all along. She'd known it from the moment she first laid eyes on him that he would be the end of her. There was devastation in his eyes and anarchy at his palms.

From the start they were meant to tear the world apart, Seven just hadn't realised that included them too.

The maze loomed ahead of her like some terror-born barricade, thick with foliage, borderline impenetrable and stretching as far as the eye could see.

"Sectumsempra!"

Seven's scream broke the night. Blood-curdling. Gut-wrenchingly horrific its intensity. She collapsed to the ground, clutching at her thigh; slashed down to the bone.

Bellatrix emerged from the edge of the maze, grinning as she twirled her wand between her long fingers, "Has the pretty little mousy finally come to play?"

  The pain was blinding. She didn't care, Seven forced herself to her feet, slow and uncoordinated. Bellatrix watched; amused that someone so small, so fragile, could wield such unbridled determination.

  "Now, now little mouse, don't you run away so soon!" Bellatrix pouted, "No one likes a coward and we've only just begun! — Crucio!"

  Seven had expected the curse and so threw her wand up defensively, sending the Sin's curse hurtling straight back at her.
It struck her too, square in the chest, in the place where heart should be. The Sin's eyes flew open in wild surprise as she was knocked down, alight with fear.

  "Crucio!" Seven cried at the downed woman, watching in sick satisfaction as she writhed and screamed, tearing at her arms and face with her fingernails. It made her own pain less so. "Crucio!"

  Her hate became her, swallowed her whole. And in her eyes, Bellatrix Lestrange became the mortal manifestation of everything wrong with the world. Seven my couldn't stop herself, she was sick. Bitter. No better than the Sins themselves. "Crucio!"

"Stop!" Screamed Bellatrix, choking on great lungfuls of air, "Stop! Please! I'll tell you —," Another burst of red light exploded into her. Another scream. "— I'll tell you anything you want! — That's what you want, right?— To know!"

That caught her attention. Seven paused but didn't lower her wand, ready to strike again at the slightest notice. Bellatrix struggled to sit up, her hair a feral matt of ash and dirt. Blood crawled down her face, from her nose, her lip, and a small but deep laceration to her brow. "Yes," She grinned, chest heaving with gasping breaths, "That's what you want, isn't it..."

"Speak!" Seven commanded.

"Patience little mousy," Bellatrix toyed, "Why would I tell you when I can show you!" Her movements were quick, sudden, faster than Seven could anticipate. At the word 'show' the Sin sent a spell spiralling towards her, having hidden her wand beneath her body amidst all the thrashing.

Seven threw herself down to the ground, gritting her teeth at the roaring protest in her legs. Burnt and slashed as she was, by the time she came to her feet Bellatrix was already on the run, the last trails of the Sin's inky dress dancing in the midnight air as she disappeared back into the maze.

Seven followed after her, limping as fast as her broken legs would allow. The world span, tilting dangerously on its axis and black dots began to spike the edges of her vision.

Though wounded herself, Bellatrix was faster, dancing through the maze and rounding corner after corner until Seven became lost.

She taunted Seven, jeering as she ran, cackling and shrieking, "Come find me, little mouse! Come find me! Come find me! Come find me!"

  Inside the maze was almost pitch black, lit only by the light of the moon, and for a long while Seven wandered blind, following Bellatrix by sound alone.
  Each and every time she caught sight of her, she vanished moments later, toying with Seven and leading her hopelessly in random directions. Dead end after dead end, the maze moved around them, constantly shifting, changing paths, blocking off old ones and opening some new.

  Seven sent curse after curse in lieu of the Sin, but somehow Bellatrix always managed to dart around some newly-emerging corner or duck at the last second and evade whatever came her way.
  Eventually Seven tired of the chase, hot with frustration and fuelled to inhuman ferality by her rage, she began to slash through the hedge boarders, tearing through the maze to get to woman. And as if wounded, the labyrinth stilled, no longer reanimating itself into new and worse shapes.

  She saw Bellatrix.
"— Sectumsempra!"
  And this time, it landed.

  Bellatrix howled a dreadful sound as the curse tore through her flesh, out streaming far more than just blood.
  She moved slower now, struggling to keep her insides from spilling out even more than they already had. The spell had split her right through to the core, and with every passing second the life began to bleed out of Bellatrix Lestrange.

  Seven did not push herself to keep up with the Sin after that, it was only a matter of time before she collapsed. All she had to do was follow the blood trail she left behind, though that didn't stop her vision swaying with every wretched step.

  She found her, there, at the centre of the maze, clinging to life, and splayed out upon the stone steps of an alter like some fallen angel. The dying Sin cradled her spilling organs with the softness of a mother nursing her newborn child. Perhaps the only time in her life she had known a kind touch, if only her own.

"Do it." Her voice was breathy, weak, but even dying she smiled madly. Perhaps it was the imminence of death that had finally undone the last of her, for she begged, "— Kill me."

"No." Seven could feel herself growing tired, feel the blood draining out of her and soaking the earth beneath her feet. "Not yet," She said, "First, you're going to tell me what you know."

Bellatrix laughed then winced as her exposed organs lurched, "Why would I do that? What will you give me in return?"

"A quick death." Snarled Seven.

"Wrong answer, little mouse." The Sin cooed, "Kill me slow, savour it. You'll enjoy it far more that way, maybe even get a taste for the kill." She held out a hand so weak it shook and all the while dripping with blood, "Come here, let me show you what a monster really looks like."

Seven clenched her jaw, not about to fall for some trick. She wanted to curse her again, but that might just kill her, so instead she settled for something lighter. "Tell me what you know, now." Then she aimed her wand at the woman's legs, "Sectumsempra!"

A small part of her enjoyed the way she thrashed, the sound she made, the way her flesh unknit itself to Seven's will.

"I can't!" Bellatrix screeched and writhed like an animal caught in a scare, "I can't! No one can! That's the curse!" Deranged as she was, a moment later she was back to grinning through scarlet-stained teeth. "... But I can show you, if you'd like, all I ask is a little trust... Come on little mouse, take my hand, I don't bite... Much." She laughed, "Come on, let me show you what kind of killer you really are!"

"I said, tell me!"

At the threat of being cursed again Bellatrix shrank back and snapped, "You think I wouldn't if I could, you stupid little girl! You think would love nothing less than to ruin every last thing he's done to protect you!" She screamed, rabid with rage, a mix of spit and blood dribbling down her chin. "It's a lie — every last thing you've ever known, all of it! And yet, somehow, none of it! — I can't tell you, he's made damn sure of that! — But give me your hand and I'll show you!"

"Give me your wand."

"What? No — !"

"— Expelliarmus!"

The Sin's wand flew in a high arc, disappearing off somewhere else into the depths of the labyrinth.

"Cowardly little thing, aren't you," Bellatrix teased, though her speech was starting to slow, each word slurring into the next as she came closer and closer to death.

There were no more than five paces between them, yet to Seven it felt like miles. With each and every single one her wounded leg threatened to buckle, white-hot pain tearing through her.

She held her hand out, and Bellatrix took it, her skin clammy and damp with both blood and sweat. The Sin examined her forearm arm for a while, turning it over and studying the scarred skin. Then, she pressed her thumb into the underside of Seven's wrist.

At her touch Seven's veins blackened, crawling like deathly tendrils beneath the surface, moving, curling around one another until they formed a shape. One that then rose to the surface of her skin like ink. A tattoo. And one she knew all too well. A memory flared, only this time she shut it down. She already knew what it would entail and she didn't want to see.

She couldn't breathe. Bellatrix's grin grew tenfold at her horror. Bile rose in the back of her throat, and her lungs scorched and screamed at the absence of breath. No, no ,no, Seven's mind raced, please, no...

— For there, on her wrist, was a dark mark.

She was one of them. Everything she'd fought for, everything she'd done. It had all been a lie. Everything she'd become, all along, she had been one of them. If not herself, then who was she fighting for? Who should she be fighting for?

"Morsmordre." Bellatrix whispered, and at once a great gasp of smoke erupted from Seven's skin, spiralling towards the sky like some moon-drunk ghost. It settled there, high above the maze, the form of a skull with a snake coiled tightly around it. A beacon, beckoning all those horrid, wicked things out from the night.

"You see," Whispered the Sin, "You're no less a monster than me. We are one and the same, only you're worse."

•  •  •

  SEVEN'S WORLD HAD originated with nothing. No thoughts. No feelings. No memories. And perhaps, in the end, it would return to that. For when she awoke, covered in blood that was not her own, she feared that this was it. There was nothing else left for her.

  Only that wasn't true, because this time, she wasn't alone.

  Draco found her there, blood-drenched and violently numb, staring down at the massacred body of a Sin.

  Her hands shook and she didn't look up as he approached. She couldn't look away from what she'd done, the monster she'd become. His hands shook too, stained with the last of his father's love. If she was a monster, then he was too.

  And there, in the middle of that maze, he held her, and together, they hurt a little less.

  ***
QOTD — Why do you think Seven has a dark mark?