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Regulus couldn’t see through the tears flowing from his eyes; all that was visible was the crimson seeping into the fur carpet— his mother would be angry about that, he thought numbly.
There was a fuzzy feeling in his mind that made his head ache; he should know why that is, he should. Still, nothing came to him. Blood was still seeping out of his skin, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
Did he do this? He couldn’t have— he’d never resort to something so undeniably stupid. But if he didn’t do it, then who did?
Regulus stumbled to his feet, feeling suddenly dizzy at the abrupt movement; still, he made his way to the bathroom, trying to blink away the black spots beginning to fill his vision.
He looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize himself.
It was him, of course it was, but there was something different about him, something uncanny. The person staring back at him through the mirror had sunken, dilated eyes the same shade of grey as his, their skin was pale–it looked almost like snow, something unhealthy for any normal person–their lips were cracked and bleeding and there were gashes all over the person’s face.
Blinkling, Regulus reached up to lightly trace over the gashes, wincing at the sharp pain that came when he did so. Still, he continued, pressing delicate fingers into each cut and somehow relishing at the pain— this was good, this he could control.
After a few moments, Regulus stopped what he was doing, frowning at his appearance in the mirror; his hair was wet, how strange.
He was missing something— Regulus was sure of that. There was something he was forgetting, something important-..
The Horcruxes— of course.
Fuck, how could he forget something so important? Regulus laughed to himself, ignoring the pain in his throat when he did so. He needed- he needed to destroy it, destroy the locket; he had to.
Making a move to rush out of the bathroom, Regulus couldn’t breathe.
“Fuck,” he tried muttering, but couldn’t even make a sound. His head was growing tighter by the moment, making him feel sick— he needed air, he needed oxygen.
He tried calling out for Sirius, for his mom, for his dad– no one came.
That shouldn’t have been strange– Sirius hated him, after all. No matter how much Regulus loved his brother, the older boy would never return it; he would choose James over him every time.
James— that name; oh James, always so pure, so perfect. Regulus wished he could’ve been better.
Feeling the pressure get too stifling, Regulus let himself fall to the floor, watching as his body was drained of blood, coloring the neat tile in a crimson color that made him sick.
It was the end as he knew it, and fuck, he hoped Kreacher would destroy the horcrux.