{There are graphic details here if you have weak heart plz skip after the ball sack falls over}
As I opened my eyes, I looked around. From what I could see, there was blood everywhere. It was the blood of the child whose body I had taken over. I had long brown hair; however, I didn't like brown, so I started to change it to black, just a bit of reality manipulation on the body. That was quite easy because I was in the body; doing it to someone else's body would have been quite difficult.
I was tied down for some reason. My hands and feet were bound with metal cuffs that looked like they were at least 50 years old, and my surroundings were covered in my blood.
The boy whose body I had taken over was six, and, well, he was a Muggle, as they liked to call it. As for the wizard who had experimented on him, he had gone out to get some potion ingredients after force-feeding the potion he had been creating to the boy.
The job of the boy was to drink the new potions that the dark wizard would create, and then the wizard would note down the effects. From what I had seen in the memories of the boy, that wizard had just adopted him a few days ago. Apparently, the last test subject didn't survive his experiments and died too early.
As I was making sense of everything in my head, the door leading out of what appeared to be the basement opened, and the dark wizard came back in. The place lit up from the opening of the door. The whole place looked like a dungeon of some sort. There were old skeletons to one side, they looked to be the same age as him for some reason, and the place was dusty. The only place that was not dusty was the cauldron on top of the fireplace that would be lit soon.
"Fuckers trying to rob me of all people, think I'm getting old. One Crucio ought to teach 'em," an old voice said in a British accent.
The voice snapped me out of the trance of memory absorption I had been in, and as I looked to the side where the stairs were, there he was, an old man wearing a cloak, his wrinkled hands taking the cloak off himself. He had brown-colored eyes and a face full of wrinkles. I bet a house-elf would look better than this old man.
He had a wand in his hand that looked quite old and used. It looked like a sharp branch to me; however, who was I to judge after all, the wand chooses the wizard, or something similar.
"Looks like you are awake, eh?" the old wizard said as he looked at the body looking at him. As he did, his eyes widened slightly as a crooked smile with many teeth missing appeared on his face.
"Wonderful, oh look at this," he said to himself as he walked closer, quite fast for someone his age. He used his wand to shift my face from side to side.
"You have golden slitted eyes and black hair now, how fascinating. I wonder what ingredients gave you those changes. And you look quite healthy as well when I left you, you were on the verge of death," he said to me.
I didn't speak, not like I could. All I did was stare at his face. He had a face that looked like it had been made from the ball sack of some magical creature.
I hadn't learned any magic in my life, although I could use the powers I got from the world I had been in. I was a saint there before I left, and, well, my powers had evolved enough that I could make words appear in thin air; it was one property of the aspect I had.
However, I just let him examine me. Being looked at by an old man like that felt dirty. I do hope he doesn't touch me.
I didn't have that many powers. Before I had left my main self, I was given 3 chances to use my powers to manipulate reality. However, it shouldn't be anything too big, or my consciousness would die.
The things I could do would be more like the magic outbursts that children have when their emotions are out of control, however, more targeted.
As he was looking at me, our eyes seemed to meet for a moment, and a sudden, sharp pain hit my head. It felt like someone was using a hot knife to scramble up my insides.
From what it looked like, he was checking my memories with that Legilimency spell they used in the Harry Potter movies.
Although he wasn't going to find anything in there, I had moved the memories of the boy into my consciousness for later analysis. I wanted to see who this boy was and all that.
"Oh, would you look at that, you have no memories, not even one. You most likely even forgot how to speak, didn't you, boy? How fascinating," he said to himself as he looked at me with that ball sack face of his.
And as for the smile he gave me, it was like the line in the middle of the sack had been bent the wrong direction and cut open.
Fucking disgusting in my opinion. I will have to make sure this old man dies as fast as possible.
So I did what an eldritch would do in my position and used my reality manipulation to steal all the luck he had. There goes my first chance of reality manipulation, my changing my hair and eyes does not count.
I wonder how he will die. I hope he gets cursed by something; I would love to see that.
After he was done looking at me, he decided to write down the changes that had come over me and decided to turn around. He used a spell to light the lamp and candles that were spread around the place, though I couldn't hear what spell he was using.
As he was writing, his quill's tip seemed to break. However, he fixed it with a flick of his hand. He was using quite a lot of silent spells. From the looks of it, he was quite good at it, too.
After he was done writing down the changes, he walked to the cauldron and then started to take out different ingredients from the Undetectable Extension Charm pouch he had on him. There were quite a lot. On the table, by the time he was done, he started to cut the ingredients, and as for some, he decided that they didn't need to be cut apart—they were thrown in without being cut or even touched with his hands, as he used his wand to open the jar and levitate the ingredient that looked like shit for some reason into the cauldron.
As he was cutting the next ingredient, the jar he had opened previously fell onto the floor, somehow not breaking and just making a sharp noise. The old nut sack, who had been startled by the noise, accidentally cut his finger off with the ingredient.
"Morgana's saggy tits," he screamed in a high-pitched voice as he walked, clutching his fingers that had been cut off and stopping the bleeding at the same time.
"Where the fuck did I put the dittany leaves?" he said as he frantically looked around. "T-they must be upstairs," he muttered to himself as he walked to the stairs, only to step on the jar that had dropped earlier.
'This is quite entertaining, I should do this kind of thing more often,' I thought to myself as I looked at the old nut sack fall backwards towards the cauldron where he had been putting the ingredients in. However, he only hit his head there, though it was hard enough to drop the knife on the table straight into his eye.
"ARGGHHHH," he let out a scream full of agony. However, that was not the end of it, as the cauldron tipped over towards his face.
There was a sizzling sound that made me appreciate the acid-like potion he was creating; his skin melted off his face like butter off his hot pan..
The only thing that filled the room and perhaps the outside of the basement was his screams. I had a smile on my face as I watched it all happen,
In his pain, he accidentally shot a spell off his wand that was still clutched in his other hand, hitting a jar of some sort of power to fly off the other side of the room and smash him straight in the head, breaking the jar and spilling everything on the floor and the cauldron and half of the potion he was creating, before i could wince due to that power touching his skinless face full of only muscles, the potion exploded in a ball of fire engulfing the old man in it, the only things left were the lower body, as for above the belt there was nothing left, other than his charred body.