Chapter 283: Hell (Part 2)

"Treat me as food?" Voldemort's complexion instantly dimmed, and he felt an intolerable insult.
The man just waved his pale hand lightly, and an invisible barrier blocked the front of the group of fruits. The fruits stopped in mid-air irrationally, and then fell down, rolling randomly on the sand.
Just as Voldemort was about to turn around and leave, the fruits suddenly bounced up insanely, and a scorching air burrowed into the two slits that Voldemort could barely call his nose.
A series of booming sounds emanated from not far away, and the dazzling light that followed seemed to pierce people's eyes, as if the whole island shook with the series of explosions.
"Damn." Voldemort was almost overwhelmed by this sudden explosion. He waved his wand frantically, resisting the sand and stones that splashed in all directions.
After that, it was not a long journey. Voldemort had to spend his energy to cope with the strange and endless magical creatures. For a while, the strong ants of fist size and scale like a sea wave attacked him like an army. For a while, the sky did not In the distance, there will be a black manic bird, screaming and shrieking. Charge him tirelessly.
Even if Voldemort did not care about their threats, he was very troubled.
On the black robe, even a few pieces were damaged by the explosion just now.
Grey-faced, ugly face, used to describe Voldemort at this time.
But now his mood calmed down instead, leaving behind the restless irritability at the time.
Calm thinking is a prerequisite for an absolute wizard.
Especially when he is not at his peak.
He cannot afford to lose.
Voldemort became more and more cautious. He slowly stepped on the stone steps, carefully guarding against triggering any trap. Lucius was delaying time for him, entangled Dumbledore, the abominable old man at any time. Will come.
It seems that all the traps have been exhausted, and there is no obstruction on this stone step.
Voldemort dragged his robe, step by step, to the stone door made of a whole piece of granite, and attached his slender, pale, boneless palm to it, and the curse groaned.
With the sound of "Gala", the stone door opened, and a rotten smell suddenly overflowed.
Just now, those magical creatures that were active outside and the lifeless cells there formed a sharp contrast at this time.
Voldemort walked in and walked to the end without hesitation, the tip of the purple shirt wand glowed faintly, illuminating the way forward.
Some prisoners saw him through the railing, but as if he hadn't seen him, they were silly and silly, while others were asleep, as if the dreams brought by sleep could make him escape everything.
This is a sequelae of being tortured by dementors.
Voldemort did not worry about his men. They were the craziest black wizards. Their spirits might be weakened by dementors, but they would never completely destroy their will.
He had to find his men first. These prisoners, who might not be useful, could be dealt with later, and let them go, which would certainly make Dumbledore stunned for a long time.
"Who are you? Also caught in?"
Lord Voldemort went deeper, only to find that there were still people who kept their consciousness and stopped him.
This is a strong bald young man with black skin, which does not look like an Englishman, and has a strange accent, but it seems to come from Africa.
"Are you unaffected?" Voldemort's scarlet eyes flashed a cruel light. No one had dared to be so rude to him for a long time.
But he was patient and asked in a cold tone.
"Oh, I don't know. All I know is that when I came in, they were like this." The man said with a laugh, without any consciousness as a prisoner, and seemed a little happy for the newcomer's entry.
"It's so boring here," the man said. "Are you a newcomer here? Didn't Aurau bet you?" he asked curiously.
"I can send you to experience a great adventure, it must be fun."
A green awn flashed in the dark corridor.
he died.
Voldemort needs no important reason to kill.
Voldemort slowly moved deeper. The man's words just seemed to suggest something to him just now, but he still couldn't deduce anything from that information. As for capturing the mind, he didn't want to waste time on it yet.
"Antonin Dolohov." Voldemort's pale face showed a cheerful smile, murmured in his mouth, he had found one of his most powerful cadres.
The man fell into the cell. He had a long, pale, twisted face. He was close to Voldemort in temperament, but his body was big and round, which diluted the feeling.
He should be one of Voldemort's most powerful black wizards, and once joined several other Death Eaters to kill Molly Weasley's two brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewitt.
His eyes closed at this time, and he seemed to be in a deep sleep.
"Recover quickly!" The cold sound of the spell reverberated in the cell.
Dolohov opened his eyes when he heard the words.
In those eyes, all the emotions representing color are lost, and some are just endless hollows, which makes people feel palpitation. The man seems to have lost his soul.
Voldemort felt his heart twitch, and an emotion called anger spread on his chest.
He gritted his teeth and said: "Dumbledore!"
Voldemort left the cell, and he accelerated his pace and moved deeper.
Suddenly, his boneless hand shivered slightly undetectably.
He saw a woman sitting on a tattered wooden chair, her smooth and dark hair now twitched together, extending a lot of bifurcations, which seemed to be brittle to the touch and shatter.
She stared blankly at the man in front of her, as if he was air or some other transparent substance.
Who is she?
Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the three sisters of the Black family.
If it is usual, even if she still retains a little consciousness, she will crawl over it enthusiastically, shouting his name and kissing his toes lightly.
The man licked some dry lips, his pale face fell into a violent emotion, his scarlet eyes began to engorge, and the blood-like light flickered in the snake pupil, and Voldemort treated him as his most fervent admirer. I used a psychic mind.
A blank, a blank sheet of paper.
Ten pale fingers of Voldemort were twisted together in an instant~EbookFREE.me~ made a joint sound.
"Very good." He muttered to himself, no one knew what kind of emotion he was inside.
She is still alive, but she is dead
With a low sigh, Voldemort gently waved his wand, and the strange green light flashed through the prison.
The woman sitting in the seat was hit without any resistance. She leaned back, hit the wall, and slid weakly.
The woman is dead, this time in any sense.
But this may be a relief for her.
"Voldemort will avenge you and make them pay the price they deserve." The man said madly, as if the entire castle began to tremble with fear and anger.
Azkaban.
Collapsed.