"Hiss..." Nagini's cold letter licked Peter Pettigrew's pockmarked face.
This is a gloomy cave, surrounded by many black stalactite-like rocks hanging upside down, water drops flowing down the rocks, splashing on the ground with a tick-tock sound, under the silence, this sound is particularly ear-piercing.
"Are you awake? Wormtail?" A cold voice sounded in Peter Pettigrew's ear.
The man lying on the ground trembled, immediately rolled over from the ground, and crawled at Voldemort's feet in fear.
Voldemort was sitting on a stone seat at this time, which should have been conjured by the Transfiguration technique, and the Dark Lord was looking coldly at Pettigrew Peter at his feet.
"My resurrection announcing my return has come to an end, isn't it? I was beaten by that nasty old man like a dog who lost his home. Voldemort has never been humiliated like this. I will wash away this hatred with blood. "
"Master, you made a temporary mistake this time, and I will soon get used to this physical body." Peter Pettigrew said flatteringly.
"Interesting, you are not only stupid, but also very forgetful, Wormtail, have you forgotten something?" Voldemort asked coldly.
Pettigrew shivered again.
"The blood of the enemy?" murmured Voldemort. "I think using Harry Potter's blood as a medicine can make me stronger than before. For me, no enemy means more than him."
"But something happened that shocked Voldemort. What he didn't expect was that the servant's flesh and blood were stained with the servant's blood. What he didn't expect was that his servant actually regarded him as an enemy."
"I messed up all my plans because of you, Wormtail." Voldemort's voice was frighteningly cold at this moment.
"Forgive me, master, forgive me." Peter Pettigrew started to weep tears and snot on his face at this moment, feeling unspeakably disgusted, and kowtowed like pounding garlic.
He struggled and crawled towards Voldemort's feet, hoping to ask his master for mercy.
"Nagini, after all you're lucky, aren't you?" Voldemort shifted his feet to avoid Peter Pettigrew's pleading.
This vicious boa constrictor has already begun to wriggle, and the body connected by the snake's head began to gradually wrap around Peter Pettigrew's calf.
"Master, no, master, I'm still useful, I'm still useful, please, give your faithful servant another chance!" Peter Pettigrew begged incoherently, but his body didn't dare to make the slightest resistance.
It will just die faster.
"Faithful? This is the funniest joke I've ever heard." Voldemort stretched out his pale and slender fingers and looked at it silently, no longer looking at the squat wretch.
Calf, thigh, waist...neck, Nagini's cold body kept sliding, winding upwards, and tightly touching all parts of Peter Pettigrew's body.
"Master..." Peter Pettigrew only felt a slippery and cold touch on his neck. Nagini's body had almost wrapped Peter's whole body, and Peter Pettigrew's only head was exposed at this time.
He felt that his lungs had gradually lost their function, and he could no longer breathe the outside air. At this time, his originally pale face turned into a painful purple red like pig's liver.
Nagini began to shrink his body.
"Alas." Voldemort sighed, "All these years, I have not only been thinking about how to make a comeback, but also thinking about another question, how to make people suffer the greatest pain? How about torturing Mudbloods and ordinary Muggles? How can we make them feel hopeless?"
"The Cruciatus Curse? No, it just magnifies the pain felt by countless times, and the nerves will become numb after the pain reaches the extreme, um...it seems to be so. I have met a few disobedient wizards like this before, and their willpower is amazing. , I tortured them with the Cruciatus Curse, and they were able to bear it without begging for mercy. Until the end, it seemed that they couldn't feel the pain anymore. Even though they were enemies, they still won Voldemort's respect."
"Then I wondered, how does physical pain compare to mental pain?" Voldemort began to recall his past proudly.
"To me, death is the most painful existence, how shameful and terrifying it is." Voldemort's slender fingers clenched into fists at this moment.
"But stupid people, they don't seem to think so. They think that illusory things like "love" and "sacrifice" can defeat death?"
"If that's the case, why did the boy's parents still die? Why didn't they completely defeat me and give me a chance to survive?" Voldemort didn't seem to care about recalling that shameful past.
"Well, let me get back to the topic, after all, you don't have much time in your life." Voldemort sneered, his dark eyes staring at Peter Pettigrew, who was entangled, "I just said that the purely physical Torture doesn't seem to be the ultimate, does it?"
"Those hard bones... don't beg for mercy even if the Cruciatus Curse is cast..." Voldemort's pale face showed an expression of extreme joy, and he laughed ferociously.
"I cast the Imperius Curse on them, let them kill each other, and lifted them after they each received fatal injuries."
"It's really interesting that the comrades who fought together, and the wizards who advocated sacrifice and dedication, killed their companions with their own hands."
"The expression of despair, shock, pain, and helplessness is really hard to describe, but I can definitely smell a smell of hatred in the air at that time. Hate me, or hate myself?"
Voldemort shook his head, "I don't know." The cold voice echoed in the cave.
"Ah, I seem to have created a new technique today." Voldemort's long, pale fingers tapped a black stone in front of him, making a dull sound.
"The Cruciatus Curse? To you?" Voldemort looked at Peter Pettigrew and shook his head again. "It's a bit wasteful. I suspect you couldn't bear it at all, and then passed out. This doesn't achieve my purpose of punishing you."
"Nagini's strength will be controlled. He will not strangle you to death all at once. Don't worry, you will feel your life passing by bit by bit during the process of being extremely awake. For you who betrayed your friends because you are greedy for life and afraid of death, it should be the most suitable punishment."
"Betrayal doesn't bring you any good future, because of your stupidity, does it?"
"Master..." Peter Pettigrew's eyeballs were swelled up terribly at this time, and they began to bleed, covered with bloodshot eyes, as if they would be squeezed out and fall to the ground at any moment, and the whole body began to make a crunching sound. Under the effect of Genie's entanglement, it began to dislocate.
His begging for mercy was only halfway through, and he was stopped by the more tightly wound snake body.
"Sting." This may be the sound of bones breaking.
Peter Pettigrew, who had not resisted all this time, actually started to shake his hand at this time, and struggled with all his might.
But this is futile.
Most wizards, after losing their wands, are no different from Muggles, and even behave worse, because they are used to relying on extraordinary power to solve small troubles in life.
If there was a chance of escape when Nagini was wrapped around Peter's body, then now, when Nagini was wrapped around Peter's neck, even if Voldemort was not present, Peter had already been sentenced to death.
The flame of survival in Pettigrew Peter's cloudy eyes began to extinguish gradually. He felt that he had completely lost the ability to breathe, and he lost the ability to think. Part of the body, but can't move at all.
Because his hands have long been imprisoned.
"I'll go out to get some air first, Nagini, remember to eat clean, and I'll come back later to deal with other things." Voldemort glanced at Peter Pettigrew, then tapped his wand dully, and a stone door opened in response. The man dragged his robe and walked out.
"Uh...ah..." This was the last voice of Peter Pettigrew.
An ugly soul, quietly annihilated in an unknown grotto.