Who Killed Chloe Beaudelaire?

Chloe Beaudelaire always knew I was watching her. No human, witch or wizard should be able to see me, but she was an extraordinary exception. Now, who am I, you may ask? That does not matter. What matters, is the story of a special sixteen year old witch, named Chloe Beaudelaire.

My first encounter with Chloe was when she was only eight years old. The Beaudelaire family was spending the weekend visiting their grandparents’ lake side home. The family was having a pleasant picnic by the water’s edge, and little Chloe sat directly on the edge of the cliff that gazed over the crystal blue waters. She wore a bright pink ribbon in her hair that matched her brand new, shiny shoes. I watched her swing her legs wildly. I sighed with discontent as I watched her; a happy child at play, knowing what was to come next. Her little pink shoe flew off her small foot and landed in the calm waters below her. Then, like most of the children I’d claimed with such sadness in the past, she jumped after her shoe in vain.

The cold water numbed her body as she was submerged by the hungry waves of the starving lake. Then, I made my move. I glided over the disturbed surface of the water before gracefully sliding under the water, to where the young girl floated at least four feet below the water’s surface, gasping for air. She kicked and flailed her arms as she gradually floated back to the surface of the water, but her attempts at escaping the water’s icy depths came to no avail, as her body began to sink once again. Then, she saw me. She felt the cold chill of my soulless corpse as I held my hand of rotting flesh and bone out to her, beckoning for her to join the forces of the dead.

“No,” she whispered, earning herself a mouthful of salty, unclean water.

And then, she was gone, well…I was gone. I no longer found myself beckoning to the drowning little girl, but at the bedside of a withered, dying old man, surrounded by friends and family. Fate had been changed that afternoon. The little blonde girl was supposed to die, yet somehow she managed to elude the elements of fate, the lure of darkness and a relief from the pain she felt when I offered my hand to her. At the time, I did not know that the girl with the little pink ribbon and matching shoes was special. Seven years later, on a hot summer evening, I went on my regular rounds, collecting the dying souls of the elderly and the sick, when I suddenly felt a strange pull to a place far away. Against my will, I found myself standing beside Chloe Beaudelaire once again. A boy was lying on top of her, roughly kissing her neck and jaw line.

“Cameron, stop,” she whispered.

The boy, Cameron made no sigh that he had heard Chloe’s plea, and continued to kiss her roughly. Then I heard a voice ring through the air, as smooth as the soft wind outside.

“Take me now; take me so I don’t have to feel the pain anymore.”

Chloe wasn’t dying, she wanted to die. Somehow, this small fifteen year old girl had summoned me to her. Never had I ever been summoned by the mere emotions of any human, not even those who possessed the most powerful magic. That’s when I knew this girl was special. Not only was she able to see me, but somehow she had emotional connection me, making her able to summon me during times when she was flooded with dark emotions.

I turned away from the distressed teen, off to continue my daily rounds. That wasn’t the last day Chloe saw me. She once saw me claiming the soul of a young woman who had perished in a car accident, and even watched as I collected the soul of her sickly grandfather. On the night of her death, I felt the same pull I had felt that summer, when Chloe had summoned me, pleading for me to take her life. I arrived at her side, and that’s when I knew something was different this time. Chloe was happy, not distressed. She was walking happily to her dormitory in the wizarding school of Hogwarts, eager to return to the game of wizard chess she had been playing with her best friend earlier. Before that moment, I never knew that I could sense any form of emotion. It hit me like a bullet straight to the heart, the feeling of sadness. At first I didn’t understand why I my lifeless body had suddenly flooded with emotion, and then it all became clear to me, why I was summoned to this Hogwarts hallway. Chloe Beaudelaire was going to die.

I watched solemnly as a gang of cloaked figures appeared out of thin air, and began to march towards innocent Chloe. The cloaked figure at the head of the pack lowered their hood, to reveal a creature I knew all too well, Lord Voldemort. Oh, how I wished that I could snatch up the wretched soul of the creature I refused to call a man. Chloe heard the looming footsteps behind her, and hesitantly turned around to face her stalkers.

“Step aside girlie,” said a high, cold voice, the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Chloe gasped as her soft almond eyes fell upon the looming figure of Lord Voldemort. Her body quivered in fear as she wondered what was going to be done to her, and her beloved school. She didn't understand how they could've possibly penetrated the highly protected walls of Hogwarts. I decided then to make my presence known, by drifting over to the head of the crowd. Chloe quickly caught sight of me, and with a heavy heart, accepted her fate. She knew that this time, I wasn’t at her side to collect the soul of someone elderly or sick, but that I was waiting to collect her soul as she was killed by Lord Voldemort. Lord Voldemort held his hand out in front of Bellatrix, keeping her at bay, much to Bellatrix’s dismay.

“My Lord, can I kill her? She’s so small; it should only take a second!” Bellatrix pleaded with sadistic smile playing at her lips.

“No, she could be of use.” Voldemort lowered his hand to his robes, from which he pulled his legendary wand, a wand of mass destruction. “If you can bring us to Harry Potter, girl, we will spare your life. If not, we will simply have to kill you.”

I could hear even from the distance the sound of Chloe gulping. She knew where Harry Potter was, she had passed him on her way to her common room. Chloe didn’t even bother taking Voldemort’s offer into consideration, she knew what the outcome would be.

“Never.”

With that, Chloe pulled her wand from her sleeve, and began throwing as many curses and jinxes as she could mutter with one breathe. The gang of Voldemort’s followers, Death Eaters they called themselves, grew angry and began to throw countless spells Chloe’s way. Chloe managed to dodge the multitude of spells being cast her way for quite some time, and even managed to stun a Death Eater or two. Unfortunately, Chloe’s small victory was quickly demolished when she was hit by a well placed cruciatus curse, cast by none other then Lord Voldemort himself. Chloe’s fragile fell to the ground, writhing from the immense pain coursing through her body. Voldemort lifted his wand, and Chloe’s writhing body levitated into the air with a gentle grace and ease. A sickening smile spread across Voldemort’s contorted face; he took pleasure in torturing the poor girl.

“Such a shame, you could’ve been valuable.”

Voldemort raised his wand high in the air, his smile gradually growing wider.

“Avada Kedavra.”

A blinding green light engulfed the dark corridor as I began my approach towards Chloe. The moment the killing spell touched the very tip of her skin, I wrapped my cold hand around her wrist, and claimed her as my latest soul. Suddenly, a new strange emotion flooded my senses. Anger. I was angry that such a beautiful, innocent girl was taken so early into her life and by a creature as evil and sadistic as Lord Voldemort. I decided to fight back then. This special girl, Chloe, had died protecting a boy she barely knew, and I refused to let him die as well. I held out my hand, closed my eyes, and banished the gang of death eaters far, far away. I don’t know exactly where, but I was sure that they were miles away from Hogwarts. I made sure that they were disoriented, and sucked a bit of their magic into my own body. There was no way they could infiltrate Hogwarts now, they were too weak. The school was safe, for now.

Meanwhile, Chloe’s body had fallen to the ground, a tangled pile of broken bones and twisted limbs. Her soul stood beside me, confused and dazed.

“I’m dead,” she whispered, her eyes transfixed on her dead body, which lay inches below her.

“You are,” I replied sadly.

“But where did Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters go? We have to warn Hogwarts, they’re going after Harry Potter!” Chloe looked around her hysterically, searching for some way to make herself heard to those who were alive and well, unlike her.

“Don’t worry, all is well. They won’t be returning anytime soon, I’ve weakened them. What you did was very brave, Chloe Beaudelaire.”

“It wasn’t bravery, it was fate. I knew I was going to die there, why die without at least putting up a fight?” she replied calmly, as if discussing the events around her death was something she did on a daily basis.

I didn’t reply, there was no need to. On most occasions, I had to explain to the souls I had collected what had happened to them, and where their souls were destined to wander for eternity, but Chloe understood.

“Can we please leave now?” Chloe asked in no more then a whisper.

“Most souls prefer to say goodbye to their former lives before I bring them over to the afterlife. Don’t you want to say goodbye?” I asked her.

“My body is going to be found soon by my best friend, Anna. She’s gone looking for me. I don’t want to see her reaction.”

I asked no more questions, Chloe knew what she wanted. With that, I took Chloe’s hand and took her far away from the place of her death, to her new home, heaven.

Now, you may still be wondering, who am I, the mysterious creature that had a strange emotional connection to Chloe Beaudelaire?

I am the one who killed Chloe Beaudelaire.