TTRC: Murders and Horcruxes

I will live forever.

I will not die. Death is for those who are weak, who do not have power, and I will have it, even if I do not have it now.

I search for my wizard family, my magical ancestry, hoping to find answers. My mother came from a completely pure-blooded line of wizards and witches. Even though she had been a useless Squib, as well as a blood-traitor for bestowing her affections upon a Muggle, surely the family she had come from was much more reputable. From my research, the Gaunts were indeed a very powerful family, but had fallen off the map for decades. It worked to my advantage that they had been laying low.

Unfortunately, I was to be greatly disappointed.

Two of them are left, and they are deplorable beings. One is my grandfather, Marvolo, a miserable and bitter old sod, while the other is a vicious man, Morfin, my uncle. I get the information I desire to find my father's line when the ring Marvolo is wearing catches my eye. He reveals that it is a family heirloom, passed down from Salazar Slytherin himself. I know he is inaccurate, but it is obvious that it carries powerful magical properties.

I don't hesitate to use magic to steal the ring, murder my namesake, and frame my uncle for the crime.

More research takes over my life for the next year. From quite a bit of reading as well as some manipulation, I discover Horcruxes – a piece of Dark magic that uses murder to allow one to split the soul. No wizard has ever done it more than once, but my abilities far exceed any of theirs. I have no qualms about my plan to sever my soul so many times that I will have seven Horcruxes. Should I get what I want – and I will – I should have more than enough murders to achieve this.

I sever my soul and put a part into a journal so that it may direct another student into opening the Chamber of Secrets to do my work, after I leave, and preferably after Albus Dumbledore is dead.

I hunt down my Muggle father. He is living with his family. Good. I will destroy any chance for him to continue his line. It gives me great satisfaction that one day soon, I will be doing this to everyone who is not of purely magical blood.

My grandparents die without a fuss. My father, however, who I find with disgust is named Tom Riddle as well, begs for his life. I demand to know why he abandoned me and my mother. His answer I didn't care about, but I enjoyed watching him scramble to find an excuse that he foolishly hoped would spare his life. From his stuttered phrases and high-pitched pleas, I surmised that my mother had put him under a love potion. With this new information, Tom Riddle Sr. falls to the ground, eyes open in death.

A great pleasure overtakes my body as I leave the grounds, once again feeling an immense satisfaction. My plan is in motion, and I will not be stopped. I have already achieved so much and there is no one even aware. I feel almost giddy. I will succeed. I will never die.

I will live forever.