Speak of the Devil (Ch. 12)(Exclusive)

Speak of the Devil

Chapter 12

Vincent Goyle wasn’t having the best day. For one thing, his best mate, Draco Malfoy, still hadn’t contacted him, and Goyle wasn’t sure if he ever would. No one had heard from him, not even Mr. Malfoy. Goyle’s father had been growing progressively more surly since he was stabbed. How he ended up getting stabbed, Goyle didn’t know. Unfortunately, the wound hadn’t healed correctly, and it was causing him pain and discomfort. To help deal with that, Goyle’s father had begun drinking more heavily than usual. His father had always been a terrible drunk, but it was even worse now. Thankfully, Goyle hadn’t been spending much time with the man. Whenever he was around, Goyle tended to clear out fairly quickly. Usually, he would go over and visit Draco, but that was no longer a possibility.

His biggest problem wasn’t Draco or his father … It was the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was off his rocker, Goyle told himself. However, he would never dare to say that out loud. Goyle wasn’t a member of the Inner Circle, so his knowledge of what was happening was limited. What he did know wasn’t good. A lot of his fellow Death Eaters had been killed recently, and it was all because of one man. This Harry Potter character was, apparently, a real stitch in the Dark Lord’s side. The Dark Lord focused solely on this man, and now Goyle was caught up in the mix. Earlier that morning, Goyle had reported for duty and was assigned to patrolling Diagon Alley. Normally, this was a job that Goyle absolutely loved. He very much enjoyed throwing his weight around and demanding payouts under the threat of attack from the local merchants. They almost always paid up. Now, however, he didn’t have the manpower to back up his threats. A week ago, Goyle demanded a hundred Galleons from the owner of a leather shop in Diagon Alley. Instead of getting the money, he received a Piercing Hex to the shoulder and was barely able to dodge a Blood Boiling Curse as he ran out the door. The people in Diagon Alley were starting to fight back, and Goyle didn’t like it one bit.

Goyle didn’t wear his traditional Death Eater garb. His brethren had warned him that he might be targeted if he did. That was a real shame, Goyle thought to himself. The black robe and silver mask always struck fear into the crowds. It made him feel powerful. Still, he did the sensible thing and listened to the others. He wasn’t there to intimidate, after all. He was supposed to watch and report back if he spotted Harry Potter or anything out of the ordinary. To hide his identity, he glued a bushy black mustache to his lip even though his hair was brown. Goyle had never been considered a bright boy.

His assignment started as one would expect. He walked in a circular pattern around the main section of the alley for a while, and when he got bored, he moved to the further sections. He continued to patrol for another hour before deciding to take a break. There was a bar whose owner was sympathetic to the Dark Lord’s cause, so Goyle made the short walk to get himself a refreshment. However, halfway there, he spotted something he never would have expected. Narcissa Malfoy was walking down the cobbled lane like there wasn’t a care in the world. Narcissa had done something to gain Lucius’ ire, and as such, he desperately wanted to get his hands on her. Lucius wasn’t the only one who wanted to get their hands on her. Goyle had always thought that Narcissa was a very sexy woman. So did his friend, Crabbe. Of course, they never mentioned this to Draco since it was evident that he would get angry. ‘Draco isn’t here anymore,’ a wicked voice rang in his head. Goyle smirked evilly as he watched the woman turn right and cut down a back alley. Goyle quickly made sure no one was watching and slowly jogged after her.

Narcissa looked like a million galleons as she strode down the back alley. She wasn’t wearing a robe as most women in the alley did. No, she wore a short dress that showed off more than half her smooth, pale thighs. Her ass was wide, and her hips seductively bounced from side to side with every step. Goyle stared at her shapely ass and licked his lips. His eyes drifted down her legs, visually feasting on her perfect skin. The front of his trousers tented, and his pulse quickened. Surely, Lucius wouldn’t begrudge him for sampling the product before turning her over to him. After another second of thought, Goyle thought better of this. Lucius probably wouldn’t take too kindly to having his prize soiled, but another glance at Narcissa’s ass helped make up his mind. ‘Fuck Lucius,’ he inwardly sneered. He’d have his fun, then slit the woman’s throat. Draco wasn’t here, and Lucius was in no position to stop him. ‘Besides … He’ll never find out,’ Goyle added with a smirk.

By then, Narcissa was more than fifty feet away and nearing the end of the back alley. He needed to move fast. Pulling out his wand, Goyle gripped it tightly and ran up behind her as quietly as possible. His excitement only grew when it became apparent that Narcissa didn’t hear his footsteps. He was five feet away, and he could smell her sweet perfume. His wand hand raised with a curse on his lips. Suddenly, Narcissa’s arm swung backward, and a red flash appeared. That was all he remembered before everything went dark.

Goyle groaned when he came back to consciousness. His head was pounding like he had drank an entire bottle of firewhiskey the night before. His eyelids were so heavy, and he had trouble keeping his head from sagging. “Whaa…?” he slurred through the grogginess. A hard slap across the face brought some life back into him. Lights flashed behind his eyes, and his ears began to ring. His blurry vision cleared while he lifted his head. Narcissa Malfoy was staring down at him with an insufferable smirk stretched across her beautiful face.

“You goddamn cunt,” Goyle hissed and tried to lunge at her. He quickly discovered that his wrists and ankles were shackled to the chair he was sitting in. He tugged with his arms as hard as possible but couldn’t break free. He finally gave up and looked at her, breathing heavily.

“That’s not very nice,” Narcissa responded with her honeyed voice. “But I expected nothing less from a dimwit like you. Why my son chose you as a friend was always baffling to me,” she said, walking over to the bar and pouring herself a drink. It was then that Goyle realized he was in Malfoy Manor.

“DRACO!” Goyle shouted as loudly as possible. The act of screaming made his head pound with pain. “DRACO!” he shouted again, hoping his friend would come down and release him.

“Don’t bother screaming. My worthless son isn’t here to save you. If you want to see Draco, you’ll find his rotting corpse in an unmarked grave just past the ward line,” Narcissa replied, taking a long drink from her glass. Just then, he heard the sound of a door opening behind him, though he was unable to turn his head enough to see who had just entered the room.

“He died as he had lived … a coward,” a male voice met his ears. “But don’t despair. The world’s better off without him.”

Goyle’s head jerked forward when an open palm met the back of his meaty head. The loud clap made his ears ring again. By then, the headache he was experiencing was splitting. He groaned just as his assailant walked around to face him. Staring down at him was Harry Potter. “Potter,” Goyle sputtered in disbelief.

“In the flesh,” Potter stated proudly. “I know your Master’s been looking for me. I’ve humiliated him far too much for him to let it go. Unfortunately for you, he’s too much of a coward to look for me himself. He keeps sending his minions to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade to find me, but in doing so, he’s putting them right into my lap. You’re just the latest,” he explained to Goyle. Potter then turned to Narcissa, who was staring at him with a worshipful gaze.

“Come here, Pet,” he told her. Narcissa practically pressed herself against him in the blink of an eye. Goyle watched as Potter ran his hands down her sides before cupping her lovely ass. “You did well to bring him to me,” he praised her. Narcissa flushed with pride as Potter fondled her ass.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, delighted. “Tricking him into following me was easy. He was never able to hide his desire for me. It was pathetically amusing,” she giggled. Goyle burned with hatred for the bitch. He now understood Lucius’ desire to get his hands around the woman’s neck. “I also suspect that my husband has told his friends to keep an eye out for me,” she added. Goyle looked at her sourly.

“When I saw him skulking around Diagon Alley with that stupid fake mustache, I knew he must be looking for you, so I purposely walked in front of him when no one else was around. Like the idiot he is, he readily took the bait,” she insultingly added. Potter chuckled, clearly amused by the outcome.

“You’ve done good work, Cissy,” Potter said, kissing her neck. Narcissa purred and wrapped her arms around Potter’s waist. “I daresay you deserve a reward. Don’t you agree?” he asked, kissing the area where her neck met her shoulder. Narcissa shuddered violently.

“Yes, Master … Thank you,” she gasped in desperation. Potter gripped her hips and spun her around so that her back was facing him. Goyle watched as Potter slowly unzipped the back of her dress. When he tugged the material off her shoulders, the dress fell down her body and pooled around her ankles. Goyle couldn’t stop his cock from getting hard at the sight of Narcissa’s body, even if it were only the back half.

“Wait for me in bed. I’ll be up once I finish,” he told her. Narcissa looked over her shoulder at him. The lust in her eyes was as clear as day. Goyle couldn’t believe it. Potter was fucking Narcissa Malfoy in Lucius’ own home! It was no wonder why he wanted to kill her so badly.

“Yes, Master,” she said excitedly. Narcissa then shot Goyle an amused look. The bitch then had the gall to wink at him before slowly walking away. Goyle kept his eyes trained on her naked ass. The way each thick cheek bounced when she took a step was mesmerizing. She was out of the room much too quickly for his liking. Goyle was brought back into reality by the clearing of a throat.

“Narcissa’s quite the woman, isn’t she? It was a good choice to make her my first follower. As you can see, she follows my every command … even when I told her to kill her son,” Potter told him. Goyle looked at him, horrified. “What? Do you think Voldemort is the only Dark Lord in town who can inspire such obedience?” Potter chuckled as Goyle flinched at hearing that name.

“No, Voldemort is as good as dead, and sadly for you, so are all his followers. This town isn’t big enough for both of us,” Potter stated as though it were factual. He then walked over to Goyle and patted the top of his head like he was an obedient dog. “Normally, I would just cut out your tongue and nail it to your forehead before displaying your body in Diagon Alley. It’s a powerful message to send to your friends. But luck is on your side today, my old friend. I have a use for you.” Potter smiled at him.

Goyle’s heart skipped a beat, hearing that there might be a way out of this. “Yes!” he answered quickly. “I’ll join your side!” he blurted out. Potter threw his head back and laughed heartily.

“Oh, Goyle,” Potter continued to chuckle. “I don’t need a twat like you in my ranks. However, I did discover that your Death Eater pals have brought in a batch of new recruits from Romania. They’re being trained at a manor in Southampton. I’m sure you know the one. It was the same house you were trained at,” Potter told him.

His stomach sank, and he was surprised that Potter knew so much about their operation. “I was going to handle it myself, but as you know, I have a sexy, naked woman in my bed waiting for me. It’s not wise to keep a woman waiting,” he smirked. “So I’ll let you handle it for me,” Potter added. “I know you’re a bumbling moron, but do try not to fuck this up,” he added.

“If you think I’m gonna …” Goyle began angrily but stopped when Potter flicked the middle of his forehead with his finger. The action hurt more than it should have.

“I’m afraid you have no choice,” Potter said with an evil smile. Goyle suddenly got worried.

He wrinkled his nose when his fake mustache began to tickle. He angled his eyes downward toward his lips and saw his mustache pulsating. The fake hairs suddenly stood on end, and in a panic, Goyle tried his damnedest to break free of his restraints. “Save your strength … This won’t be pleasant,” Potter’s voice cut through his panic.

His mustache trembled and split down the middle into two pieces. Goyle cried out in fright when each one morphed into a terrifying-looking caterpillar. Each was as black as night, and their bristly hairs looked needle-sharp. Goyle violently shook his head from side to side, trying desperately to knock them off his face, but it was useless. They began crawling up his skin, one going up his left cheek and the other on his right. Their movement was slow, which only made it worse. Every piece of skin they touched burned with stinging pain.

“GET IT OFF! AHHH!” Goyle squealed in pain and terror. Potter just watched on with a bored expression. When they reached his cheekbones, they curled inward and found the corner of his eyes. The front of his trousers became soaked with piss as he lost control of his bladder. Goyle’s mouth opened wide, and he screamed louder than he ever had. His nightmare was just beginning. The caterpillars pushed against the corners of his eyes and burrowed in. Slowly, they sank between his eyeballs and lids, and their hairs burned so severely that his vision became blurry. Goyle could feel them wiggling underneath his skin, and he wanted nothing more than to rip them out with his bare hands. Then, they pushed deeper.

Speak of the Devil

Harry watched as Goyle’s body spasmed uncontrollably while the muscles in his arms strained to break free of the shackles. Harry knew everyone’s greatest fears, and for some odd reason, Goyle was terrified of caterpillars. Harry didn’t look into it further because the reason didn’t matter to him. All he cared about was extracting the sweet anguish from his dumpy, out-of-shape body. To Harry, his torment was like a fine wine to be slowly savored. Goyle let out a gut-wrenching howl as he bucked hard enough to slide his chair several feet. He bucked one last time before a black, viscous liquid began oozing from the corners of his eyes. The white in Goyle’s eyes turned as dark as ink, and he let out a choking whimper. The same ebony ooze dripped from his mouth, blackening his yellow teeth. Then, his body stopped fighting the infection.

“Good boy,” Harry praised him. He snapped his fingers, and the shackles disappeared. Goyle whimpered again while she shakily got to his feet. Though he could still freely think, Goyle’s mind was now a prisoner in his own skin. His body would obey Harry’s every command while his mind uselessly fought against it. Goyle lumbered over to Harry and dropped to his knees before him, ready to be commanded. He lowered his head in subordination.

“Rise, you worthless meat sack,” Harry amusedly ordered. Goyle quickly rose to a standing position, though he appeared very shaky. His body hadn’t fully adapted to the infection just yet. “I want you to go to the house where you trained to be a Death Eater. When you get there, I want you to drop this vile onto the floor. Understand?” Harry asked him while handing over a large glass vile of bile-colored liquid. Goyle shakily took the vile from him.

“Y-Yess, Masster,” he slurred with a croaky voice. Trails of black liquid were streaked down his red cheeks.

“Good. Now, let’s get you ready for the party,” Harry said happily. He snapped his fingers again, and Goyle was suddenly hidden underneath a black robe and silver Death Eater mask. “Perfect!” Harry clapped his hand as he examined him. “Now run along,” Harry ordered with a shooing motion of his hand. Goyle croaked out what sounded like a cry as his body carried him to the front door.

Speak of the Devil

Amycus Carrow drank down half a glass of wine in a single gulp. He let out a loud belch and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Training recruits was a boring job, and while he would normally rather be out creating havoc, at the moment, he was secretly happy for the mundane task. Life expectancy for the average Death Eater has been drastically shortened as of late. He couldn’t count the number of colleagues who had gone missing or ended up with their heads on a pike. He didn’t want to meet the same fate. ‘Let the others look for Potter,’ he often told himself. Amycus wasn’t in any rush to meet the man who had trounced his Master on multiple occasions. “Get back to work!” he shouted at the recruits.

There were several dozen young men from Romania and the surrounding area in the manor who decided to join on the promise of riches and women. Little did they know that there was a madman out there whose sole purpose in life seemed to be hunting and killing Death Eaters. Upon hearing him yell, the young men started dueling again. None of them were very good, Amycus thought, but the Dark Lord needed as much fodder as he could get. ‘Poor bastards,’ Amycus thought with some amusement.

They were all in the main entrance, where there was more than enough room for everyone to train simultaneously. Suddenly, the front door opened, and in stepped one of his fellow Death Eaters in full regalia. Amycus noticed that he was walking strangely. He was kind of wobbly, and he was shuffling his feet.

“You alright there, mate?” Amycus asked. The figure stopped, and he thought he heard a whimper. Amycus went over to him. “Got some new orders?” he asked. Again, the man didn’t respond. “Hey! I’m talking to you,” he said, growing angry at being ignored. In anger, Amycus ripped the mask from the man’s face.

“Bloody hell,” Amycus whispered in disgust. Gregory Goyle’s face was ashen and blank. It was smeared with what appeared to be black blood. Amycus wasn’t the only one disturbed by the sight. The recruits stopped sparing and came in for a closer look. Many of them were revolted by the sight. Goyle then reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a large potion vile. He held it out as though he were offering it to Amycus. His hand was trembling badly. For some reason, Amycus had a very bad feeling about this. He took several steps backward until his back was pressed against the front door. That’s when the vile fell from Goyle’s hand.

Amycus heard a clink and then the sound of the glass breaking. When nothing happened, he let out a sigh of relief. A hissing sound cut that short. Looking down at the broken vile, he saw something strange. The liquid inside hadn’t spread out across the floor like a normal liquid would have. It formed a strange pulsating ball right before it turned jet black. Then it exploded with a pop.

“AAAAAAARGH!” Amycus shouted as a few drops of the liquid hit him in the face and chest. The pain was horrendous. He tried to wipe it from his face and was horrified to see that some of his facial meat had wiped off onto his hand. He was forced to look up when dozens of screams filled the room. Goyle was practically gone. He could see only chunks of his body on the floor that were quickly being dissolved by the black liquid. The recruits weren’t fairing much better. Faces were melted off. Arms and legs were sizzling into stumps. One unlucky young man was trying to hold in his guts after the flesh on his stomach was eaten away. Many of the recruits were outright killed. Bodies lay scattered across the floor. Their flesh was bubbling and sizzling away. The stench of melting flesh was something Amycus would never forget. A loud creak made him look up. The ceiling was being dissolved as well. A loud crash made him jump. The walls were melting away. By that point, the pain in his face and chest was too much to bear. As another recruit’s arm and head fell off his body, Amycus decided his best bet was to get the hell out of there. He turned to grab the door handle but found it had melted away. Half the ceiling caved in, crushing some of the screaming wounded. In desperation, Amycus kicked the door as hard as he could. He had never been so relieved as he was when the door violently swung open. He stumbled out into the daylight and found that his robes were smoking. He ripped his robes off and looked at his chest. His skin had peeled away, revealing fat and bone. He nearly vomited.

Another loud crash made him spin around. The rest of the second floor had dropped down and crushed the rest of the recruits. One of the outer walls gave way, and the manor tilted to the side. Amycus just turned and ran. He didn’t stop even when the thunderous bang of the house completely collapsing made him stumble. He bumbled past the wardline and vanished, in frantic need of medical help.

Meanwhile, many miles away, Narcissa squealed as she came for the second time. Harry was between her lovely thighs, thrusting into her like a man possessed while hoping that the new batch of wannabe Death Eaters enjoyed his welcome gift.