A.N. Random little thing I wrote while listening to Russian Roulette by Rihanna. I apologize if there are any spelling/grammatical errors. Enjoy and please review! :)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

She would always go to him. No matter the time of day, the weather, the location, she was there. Tom scared her to no end, he was a true monster. But... she couldn't find herself to care.

He pointed his wand to her chest, a cruel smirk decorating his strikingly handsome face. A glee in his eyes that could only be brought on from her fear. It was like this often. The threats, the screaming, the crying, the pain. It was a vicious cycle that could not be destroyed. No amount of therapy could make her recover because deep in the recesses of her mind, she enjoyed being broken. Liked having Tom put back the pieces of herself only to smash it to bits once again.

Memories of her family were fluttering in her mind, barely there but still in existence. Her mother baking cookies, Ron getting in a fight with George, Percy criticizing her sculpture of a snitch. She could only imagine the looks of hate they would give her now, bare before the devil himself and willing.

Molly would cry, ashamed of raising a disappointment such as herself while Arthur would stare upon her in loathing. Charlie and Bill wouldn't be able to look her in the eye, Percy giving her a unsurprised look, he always knew something was off about her. The twins would walk away, unable to deal with it all and Ron... Ron would ask her why. Why she chose to let the darkness infect her soul, why she allowed Tom to take her over so easily. Ginny wouldn't have an answer, she never did.

As Tom continued to push his wand further into her chest, bruising the delicate skin, Ginny could have sworn he could see her heart beating, hear it pounding like thunder. She was utterly terrified, rightfully so albeit. Anyone in her position would be. It was different for her though, she enjoyed the paralyzing fear he gave her, truly craved the shaking anxiety of what was to come.

All just a game, what the two lovers were playing. A twisted form of cat and mouse. But unlike the stereotype, where she would run and he would catch her, she was always there. She wanted to be caught, entrapped by his woven lies. Like a fly to honey. His sugar coated words, so sweet to hear, but sour and bitter once melted to its core.

Ginny closed her eyes, opening her mind up to her surroundings. Tom's light breathing, the texture of the wood of his wand on her flesh, the vivid ticking of a clock, the heat of the room and its worn wool carpet on her feet. He showed no tenderness, no mercy to her. Only raw hate, lust, love. No, Tom was incapable of love but she wasn't, she loved him with every fiber of her soul in her own way. His only love was power.

She had spoken to another man earlier, Tom's burning jealousy not lost on her. That was why he was far more violent towards her today. He would never realize it, never comprehend why she insistently evoked him. Never know that she liked the way he hurt her. If there was one thing she understood about Tom it was that he despised it when those he tried to torture would enjoy it. And this, this was torture. Sweet, sweet torture.

Many tried to save her from this, foolishly so. You can never fully take away those who do not want to be taken. The Order of the Phoenix lost many good men and women trying. Tom would never let her go. He would kill everyone on this planet if he had to. She was his, forever. Something that she was constantly reminded of. He was in charge of her. Tom chose when she would eat, breath, die. Ginny was his object, his possession and he would decide how she lived.

A slap across her face was all that was needed for her to snap her eyes back open. Bright brown meeting frosty blue. It was all so natural, all of this. Like she was born for this life. To be beaten and forced into submission. She was the master, always possessing the ability to know when to say yes or no. The master of playing the pawn in Tom's sick game of chess. Some days she would think she was the Queen, but she was all too aware that the position would never be filled. He was too vain to share the spotlight with anyone. No one could ever live up to his standards. Not even her, no matter how hard she tried.

Her breathing quickened as Tom's smirk morphed into a perfect picture of concentration. A drop of sweat falling down from his brow all the way down his naked chest. He was far too focused on her to wipe it away, to be bothered by such a measly thing. It was nearly time now.

She forced herself to push down the doubts, to back out now. Tom's anger was much worse than the chances she had going through with this.

His wand pushed even further into her. She was sure he was breaking the skin, swore she could feel the blood traveling down the valley between her breasts. The pain of it distracting but somehow she remained focused. If she didn't then Merlin only knows what the consequences would be.

Tom's eyes drifted down her body, licking his lips in anticipation before meeting her gaze once again, taking her aback by the fierce expression. He was ready. Fear once again burst through her veins, preparing for the unavoidable outcome. It was hard, incredibly so, to prepare for the unknown. His mind was impenetrable so she could never even begin to guess what his plans for her were. Was it going to be a simple stinging curse, a charm cast over her, a jinx, a hex, an unforgivable? She could never know.

He never bothered to ask her if she was ready, it would just happen. A deep breathe, held in for her sorry excuse of comfort. He never allowed her any sources of support, not even a small stuffed animal. Not surprising really, he loved to watch her squirm.

Words formed on his lips but were left unspoken, it was more of a taunt then anything. Ginny never learned to read lips and he never spoke the spell. Her life held no more value besides his amusement, so would death really be that unwelcoming? But she had no time to ponder as a flash of light overtook the room.