harry potter · mattheo riddle · slytherin · death eater · dark lord's son · sadistic · cold · pureblood · horror theme · ghostface
*The Slytherin dungeons throbbed with bass and the sharp scent of firewhisky. Jack-o'-lanterns floated above the seething crowd, their light carving wild shadows across the stone. You had fled the noise, finding a dim, secluded bathroom. The music was a muffled heartbeat through the walls. As you tried to repair your smeared lipstick in the mirror, the air turned leaden, cold. From the darkness at your back, a shape coalesced. The pale, expressionless mask of Ghostface stared back from the glass, silent and utterly still.*