The grinding scrape of shifting stone echoed through the chamber as Tiger strode into the common room with predatory confidence.
Every little snake turned in unison, their mocking gazes converging on him like searchlights. An indescribable tension settled over the silent crowd—thick as smoke, heavy as a funeral shroud.
Head Boy Atlante Bursted advanced with his chosen duelists, the remaining Slytherins flowing behind them like a dark tide until Tiger stood surrounded in the eye of their storm.
The opposing forces faced each other across the ancient stones.
Watching girls held their breath—whether from curiosity, nerves, or naked hatred—waiting for blood to spill.
"..."
Bursted's face flushed crimson. Words formed and died on his lips as Tiger's calm, predatory stare reduced him to a strangled rooster, throat working soundlessly.
"Shelby!"
Corman Avery exploded from the crowd, unable to contain his fury any longer. He stalked toward Tiger with ice-cold rage burning in his eyes, chin raised in aristocratic contempt.
"If you possess even a shred of dignity—"
"If you're still a—"
The size-twelve boot that slammed into his chest cut off his words with surgical precision.
CRACK.
The sickening snap of ribs echoed through the chamber as Avery launched backward like a human cannonball, streaking past Gemma Farley in a blur of limbs before smashing into the liquor cabinet. Crystal exploded in glittering shards as he crumpled to the floor.
Girls' screams pierced the air.
Head Girl Gemma Farley sat frozen, teacup suspended halfway to her lips, her usually serene eyes wide with disbelief.
Under the horrified stares of every Slytherin present, Venom erupted across Tiger's frame—a three-meter nightmare of living shadow that dwarfed the assembled duelists.
Tentacles unfurled like arachnid limbs, their metallic sheen catching the firelight as apex predator instincts radiated outward in waves. Every student trembled involuntarily.
"Eyes, lungs, pancreas, brains—all delicious," the creature purred with dual voices, each word dripping hunger. "Pity we're short on time."
Its massive head tilted with predatory interest.
"So... SUBMIT OR BECOME FOOD!"
The roar shattered the air like thunder, hurricane-force and deafening. Saliva splattered across Atlante Bursted's face as those nightmare fangs loomed inches away.
The Head Boy's legs gave out. He hit the floor unconscious before his body finished falling.
Tiger wasted no more words.
Like a tiger among lambs, he plunged into the screaming crowd with devastating efficiency. Massive fists fell like meteors—each impact accompanied by bone-deep cracks and agonized shrieks as bodies flew from the scattering mob to crash unconscious against stone walls.
"Save me! I don't want to die!"
"Someone get a professor!"
"No no no—AHHHHH!"
Several students bolting for the exit found themselves pinned to the walls by razor-sharp spikes, crimson trickling down ancient mortar as their screams echoed through the dungeons.
"Don't run! Stand and fight!"
Lestrange tried desperately to rally the survivors, his aristocratic voice cracking with panic. "Draw your wands! Attack together!"
A gleaming battle-axe materialized from nowhere, spinning end-over-end toward his skull.
The tall, elegant pure-blood dove aside as his protective ring shattered like glass, scrambling on hands and knees toward the chamber's edge.
"He's going to kill me!" Lestrange babbled, all pretense of dignity abandoned. "He's actually going to kill me!"
The great terror of imminent death had stripped away every ounce of his courage.
Blinding light erupted behind the sofas as a writhing black tentacle lashed out, seizing Riley Shafiq's arm and twisting it into an impossible spiral. Her shriek of agony could have shattered crystal.
"Riley!"
"Glacius! Sectumsempra!"
Head Girl Gemma Farley abandoned all pretense of safety, her wand blazing as silvery light struck the attacking limb. The tentacle froze solid before multiple cutting curses shredded it like paper, severing it completely.
"This cannot be an Obscurus!" she gasped, frost-pale eyes wide with horror.
She hadn't expected such resilience—multiple Sectumsempra spells combined with freezing charms had barely managed to sever one appendage.
"Farley! Look out!"
Riley's warning came just as the spikes that had pinned students to walls transformed into projectile weapons, whistling through the air like artillery shells.
Gemma rolled desperately behind the nearest sofa, dragging Riley with her as a golden shield blazed to life around them both. Continuous impacts dimmed its radiance while furniture exploded into splinters beyond their protection.
"Damn it, we were all wrong!" Gemma's voice cracked with desperate realization. "We were all completely wrong!"
The vajra-like projectiles that shattered stone floors told the true story—this wasn't some uncontrolled magical outburst. This was calculated, precise, controlled violence.
"Get down! Everyone down!"
"Blaise!"
"Run, Pansy!"
"Draco, hit the floor!"
Chaos consumed the common room. Shattered stone, wailing voices, terrified screams, and blood—so much blood—painted every surface.
"WATCH CAREFULLY, YOU PATHETIC WORMS!"
Tiger's voice boomed above the carnage, dual-toned and inhuman.
"THIS IS WHAT REAL FUCKING POWER LOOKS LIKE!"
The massive shadow moved through the chamber with supernatural speed, targeting anyone foolish enough to remain standing or reach for a wand. Mercy was a foreign concept—only swift, brutal efficiency.
First-year students who couldn't escape in time pressed themselves into corners like terrified mice, their earlier bloodlust transformed into bone-deep terror.
Theodore Nott dragged the unconscious Blaise Zabini to safety, both boys weeping openly as they huddled with other survivors—aristocratic pride forgotten in the face of genuine predation.
The pure-blood elite found themselves trapped with nowhere to retreat. Panic and desperation warred in their eyes as fear crystallized into murderous intent.
"What IS this monster?!" Selwyn screamed, his composure finally cracking completely.
He spun toward Venom with his wand raised. "Confringo—"
The vajra projectile took his arm off at the shoulder before he could finish the incantation.
THUD.
Hot bone fragments and arterial spray painted nearby duelists crimson as Selwyn's wand clattered across stone. He clutched the spurting stump, his aristocratic features twisted in unimaginable agony.
The remaining fighters collapsed as their knees gave out, all fight bleeding away with their courage.
At last, silence fell over the ruined common room. Venom stood triumphant in the center of devastation, displaying rows of needle-sharp teeth in a predatory grin.
"Honestly, you should consider yourselves fortunate," it purred with dark satisfaction. "You encountered me—a reasonable creature. Notice how none of you idiots are actually dead?"
The symbiote placed massive claws on its hips with obvious pride. Without this recent evolution, controlling its strength to merely maim rather than murder would have proven impossible.
"But they're dying..."
Professor Snape's voice cut through the aftermath like a blade. The Potions Master stood in the doorway, his normally pale complexion gray as ash.
Surveying the blood-soaked ruins, listening to the agonized moans echoing off stone walls, his hands trembled with barely contained rage.
"Shelby, have you completely lost your mind?!"
Venom receded instantly, revealing Tiger's human form. His expression remained mockingly serene.
"I'm perfectly sane, Professor. They're the ones who've lost their minds."
Tiger gestured casually at the carnage surrounding him.
"This is Slytherin's finest? Attempting to provoke an Obscurus? Trying to attack a walking weapon of mass destruction?"
His laugh held no warmth whatsoever.
"Who exactly is the madman here? Any rational person knows better than to play with live grenades."
While he spoke, tendrils of black liquid crept across the floor from every direction, flowing back toward their host like living mercury. The agonized wailing gradually subsided.
Snape's obsidian eyes narrowed as he observed Selwyn's severed arm.
The limb that moments ago had been reduced to blood mist and bone fragments now lay intact beside its owner, the wound sealed and bloodless—waiting only for magical reattachment.
Students previously pinned to walls by spikes were slowly rising to their feet. The horrific puncture wounds had vanished entirely, leaving only torn, bloodstained clothing as evidence of their ordeal.
Riley Shafiq stared at her arm in wonder. The twisted, pretzel-like deformity had completely healed, only residual aching proof that any injury had occurred at all...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
The story isn't over...
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